#why do I have so many feels about this little bastard?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things.

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax.

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration.

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers.

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler.

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words.

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers! How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?"

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!"

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling.

"I could do this all day, princesa. "

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure.

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit.

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive.

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time.

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far.

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him.

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar.

"You okay?"

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you. "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all."

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two.

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand.

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over.

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you.

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass.

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder.

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?"

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink.

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar.

He stretches out his hand, and you take it.

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words.

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck.

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do.

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him.

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you.

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer.

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in.

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness.

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him.

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension.

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip.

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck.

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders.

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out.

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper.

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile.

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face.

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more.

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words.

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is.

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate all your needs.

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order.

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk.

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -"

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains.

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary.

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-"

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious .

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body.

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something.

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up.

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?"

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression is steady, just as unreadable.

"Do you want to?"

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me."

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust.

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod.

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man.

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper.

"Fuck, Miguel."

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares.

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans.

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters.

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm.

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?"

You nod frantically with a stifled sob.

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please."

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?"

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks.

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers.

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath.

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought.

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy.

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum.

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago.

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process.

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?"

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles.

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa."

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader #headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #jealousy

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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FIRE HYDRANT • portgas d. ace

ace loves his little squirter, perhaps a bit too much.

content + themes: firefighter!ace, firefighter!reader, choking, hate fucking, heavy squirting, he’s such a mean dom in this, mentions of oral sex, daddy is used, finger sucking, slapping, pet names are used (my love, babygirl, sweetheart), calls reader slut, missionary/mating press

📝: just a lil something to help me get my steam back. If it’s bad, you never saw it.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“Okay, okayyyy…take some outtt..fuck!”

“Don’t be stupid, now move your hand before I do it for you.”

he was relentless and had been for the past couple hours or so..it seemed like he had no intention of doing so anytime soon either. Perhaps this time around..your big ass mouth had bit off far more than you could ever chew. Hence why at the moment..he was fish hooking his fingers in the sides of your jaws. Prompting you to suck on them as a means to shut you up. Feeding you a light tap to the cheek to ensure so as well.

“Rookie..how many times do I have to say it, huh? You don’t run a damn thing. It’s been what..four? Five? Hell, I’ve lost count how many times you’ve come on this dick. It’s like you can’t get enough of me, my love. I already knew that much though.”

the words tearing through you like a serrated dagger, slowly but surely cutting you up. A reminder of your weak resolve. You hated it, you hated it so fucking much that the one man you despised got you wetter than any boyfriend or partner you’d ever encountered. That this bastard knew your body far better than you did sometimes. He could do things that you’d never even imagined..taking you to heights unknown and yet, all you could do was stare at him in disgust as his cock plunged within your center repeatedly. Slamming balls deep as they smacked against your puckering asshole; drenched in your sticky mixture from drumming it out of you. It was just as he said, you had come for him for about the seventh time now. Running on fumes and pure spite to keep going. Maybe you wanted to prove him wrong that you could take whatever he threw your way, including the dick.

“Haaaah!—shit! Not right there..I’m gonna—“

“I know, babygirl. I know you are so why fight it? Squirt on daddy’s dick. Feels much better than arguing with me, doesn’t it?”

or..you loved the way he fucked you and your pride wouldn’t allow you to admit it! It would explain the large puddle formed underneath the towels on his couch and the splashes surrounding his foot; the other planted next to you so that he could truly get in it the way he wanted. And here you were..in the last position you wanted to be! Folded like a goddamn pretzel with your toes wiggling behind your head and this asshole hovering over you with that same stupid grin on his face, those deep set eyes and his necklace dangling in front of your nose. He was enjoying this. Enjoying turning his stubborn little rookie into his personal fire hydrant. The tight, juicy grip of that cunt embracing him like a warm hug..tinting his tan hued shaft with a sheet of white essence before exploding into the sweet, delicious rain as he made you squirt yet again. He’d never had pussy like it and it was for that reason alone, he put up with your bad attitude or rather, calmed it down.

“Nnggghhh!..I can’t..” your words were barely even making it above a decibel. A lot more quiet than the shouting you did at him when you first arrived. Pissed off about your inspection results earlier in the day. Granted, that was before he hissed at you to sit down, shut the fuck up and be a good slut for him..before he snatched your sundress down to reveal those plump tits and sucked on those gorgeous brown nipples that go so erect for him as he fingered you. And well before pinned your legs back and damn near sucked the flavor from your pussy! Using those nimble fingers to get you to climax..it was then that he discovered your little secret:

“Ahhh..so you’re a squirter, rookie? Well that’s good to know.”

and hadn’t stopped exploring it since. So for the duration of your stay, he’d been stretching that pussy out and using you to his heart's desire. Pulling on your hair, smacking on that fat ass as he gave you vicious backshots. Even tossing the pillow out of your way so you had zero comfort. His punishment for waking him up. Using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve, making you eat him up until you made a mess, calling him daddy after rewarding you with a warm nut to the back of your throat and after that, the fun really began. He’d kept you like this..drawing out orgasm after orgasm; streams of clear juices reaching as far up to his chest. Pulling out, tapping that mushroom tip against your slit to coax out another right after. He was having too much fun!

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t even keep her eyes open. Too bad for you..”

suddenly, you’d feel the hard clutch of his digits around your throat which prompted you to gasp for air whilst clawing at his forearm. Zeroing in on your face, he’d hiss through gritted teeth and smile before slamming your head back down: “we’re not done, so wake that ass up. ‘M gonna beat that little pussy of yours so sore, you’ll be lucky if you can crawl out of here when I’m done. Gonna fuck you until you’re empty, baby..”

and something told you, that wouldn’t be anytime soon!

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suna-cerely-yours · 1 year

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i know ft kiyoomi

warnings: fem!bodied reader, dirty talk, public indecency, mentions of bondage, unedited.

“kiyo would you rather fuck someone wearing a black dress or a white one?”

sakusa lifts his eyes from his phone, fixing you with an incredulous look.

"why are you asking me that in the middle of a very public dressing room, which i'm probably not even supposed to be in right now?"

"it's literally 2pm and the store is practically empty kiyo. besides, i doubt the workers are paid enough to care anyway."

"that's not what i asked."

rolling your eyes, you push the door of the dressing room open further, revealing the short, white dress you had on.

"i haven't been laid in such a long time, and i have a good feeling about this weekend. i wanna make sure i look, y'know, fuckable or something."

a muscle in sakusa's jaw twitches as he glances over the dress, still leaning against the wall opposite to your dressing room, phone clutched in hand.

"okay, first of all fuckable isn't a real word. secondly, what sort of bastard are you dating who'll decide if he likes you based on your dress?"

pressing your lips together you squint at him, walking forward to grab his arm.

"ki-yo-omi, it's not that deep, just tell me if you would rather fuck someone in a white dress or a black one."

"if it's someone i'm interested in, their clothing would not matter."

hiding a grin, you shake your head slightly. your best friend really was leagues apart from most men you had met.

"okay so the white one then?"

shrugging, sakusa straightens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his dark slacks. "get whatever dress you want, if you'd like i could buy you both."

"kiyo, just say you wouldn't fuck me next time," you whine, "stop avoiding the question."

a hand catches your wrist as you turn to go back to change your clothes, sakusa's fingers warm against your skin.

"i never said i wouldn't fu- i wouldn't have sex with you. stop putting words into my mouth."

"fuck kiyo, fuck me. say it properly c'mon, we're not kids anymore."

scowling he lets go of your hand, "don't be a brat."

"oh yeah? and what are you going to do about it?"

you hear him scoff as you move to close the door, only to have the door be pushed back and find yourself pushed against a mirrored wall, the door clicking closed behind sakusa.

"kiyo, what the hell-"

"you think i don't want to fuck you? you think i don't fantasize about tying you up and making you beg for me?"

he moves closer, pressing a hand to the mirror beside your head, the other hand slipping inside your dress to grip your hip.

"do you have any idea what you do to me? how i feel like a complete caveman, devoid of any sense of rationality every time you show up in those little skirts? all i can ever think of is how much i want to flip them up and fuck you until you cry."

you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing as sakusa's lips brush against yours', his thumb lazily stroking hipbone.

"every time you come whining about how some boy couldn't make you cum, or left you unsatisfied, all i can think of is how i could make you cum without even making you take any clothes off- how i could make you cream around my dick so many times.

your lips part, as you moan, sakusa's fingers now slipping into your soaked panties.

fingers lightly tracing your pussy, he sighs into the crook of your neck.

" i would fuck you in each and every one of your dresses."

your eyes slide shut as he presses down your throbbing clit, head hitting against the mirror with a thud.

however instead of continuing, he moves away, "i'll pay for both dresses and meet you outside, i'm sure he'll fuck you regardless."

#sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa smut #hq #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Awooooooo!

Your dog is weird. Just.. just weird. Like, all dogs are weird. They have their quirks and their oddities, silly babies in fluffy bodies.

Johnny though…

He snuggles up in your bed every night; you don’t even bother trying to kick him out. He’s presses up tight against you, head almost on your pillow. Have to start sleeping in a shirt because one too many unfortunately placed cold nose bumps…. Yeah. But that’s fine. The fuzzy space heater is worth it.

(So what if you sort of wake up sometimes and half-dream its skin you’re snuggled up to. If you imagine a more human rasp to the quiet snores by your ear. If the tongue on your cheek is softer and smaller than you’re used to….

Your dating life has been dry for some time.)

Johnny pees in every room of your house at least once, but that’s not entirely surprising - he’s an intact male, after all. (Something you’re trying to, heh, fix. Though the appointment mysteriously keeps getting moved or cancelled.) thankfully, though, once he’s “marked his territory” he starts asking to go outside.

And that’s where the weirdness begins.

The first time you let him out off leash, he shoots off into the woods and only returns once he’s done. You panic, feel so stupid and irresponsible, near tears by the time he gets back. When he sees you upset, say on the porch steps, he darts to your side and leans into you until you calm down.

You stop worrying so much about his little “trips”. Means you dont have to clean up after him to keep the yard tidy after all.

The first time he bounds off into the woods and doesn’t come back after a few minutes, you almost go searching. But.., but well he’s a good boy. An hour later he comes back, scratching at the door.

You’re not sure what he’s up to and it makes you anxious. Don’t like the idea of an “outdoor” dog. All of yours have been in-home pets kept in sight at all times. You’re scared Johnny’s going to get hurt or bitten or hit by a car.

But he always comes back healthy whole.

One hour turns into two, then three. Entire mornings, only returning in the evening to climb into bed. Eventually a whole day. You have someone install a doggy door big enough for Johnny to slip through so that he can come and go as he pleases.

You get used to having a pet that’s only around sometimes, though you sniffle that you miss him when he’s gone. As if understanding, he’ll always lick at you, comforting.

The other weird thing - he demands to climb into bed while you’re doing “self care”. Again, dogs don’t get human social boundaries. He’s allowed on the bed so why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed up even if it’s not bedtime? It’s understandable dog logic, even if you have to stop the first several times it happens.

Keeping him out isn’t an option. Even if you manage to shut the bedroom door on him before he wriggles inside, he makes such a ruckus. Barking, howling, knocking over the trash and scratching at the door. You almost step directly into a puddle of pee once.

You just keep the lights off, close your eyes, and try to ignore the odd brush of fur or gust of air from his nose. Pretend he’s not there at all; and not staring the way he tends to.

Not getting off just isn’t an option. You make your peace with your dog too dumb to even turn away.

(You also learn very quickly to wash your toys as soon as you’re done. Can’t even wait to catch your breath. Calling him nasty makes his tail wag. You know it’s not reasonable to think he’s doing it on purpose.)

“Johnny, drop it!”

Instead of doing that, he drops his front half low, a lacy black pair of underwear in his teeth. He snatched it right out of your laundry basket while you were trying to start the washer.

“I’m going to turn you into a pair of boots. Put those down!”

Chasing a giant wolf-dog for your panties is ill-advised but what are you gonna do? Let him shred your underwear?

“I wanted to wear those out tonight, you bastard!”

You’re supposed to have a date. At this rate, you won’t even be able to shower, never mind get ready. Johnny’s been a nuisance all day, ever since you got off the phone with your mom this morning, updating her about your life and plans for the evening.

Determined, you give up and go to finish the laundry - only to hear a crash and a yelp. Johnny’s knocked over the mirror and stepped in the glass.

“Oh, baby boy,” you groan. “Dammit, John-Bon.”

You text your date for a rain check, then call ahead for the emergency vet. Huh… your first aid kit is much better stocked than you remember.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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sepublic · 1 year

Text

Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.

Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.

She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...

And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.

Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.

Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.

So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?

Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.

There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.

On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.

#the owl house #boiling isles titan #luz noceda #glyphs

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harstyle · 3 months

Text

… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation (not the sexy kind) and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and peppering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in an attempt of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he did it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You were your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N could never say no to that, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he’d been looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything was fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour in her mouth.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the hall where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that was a really fucked up thing to do.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt pretty normal to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry pulled her to the front of his chest, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. His mouth was near her ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. Fucking stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the side of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He coaxed her around, never letting go.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?” She still sounded nervous.

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

The delight that sparked in her was all he’d been looking for. “You’re confusing that way, love is fine but dating’s a strict no. I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, a smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles concept #famous!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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mobbu-min · 1 year

Text

☆ marry you ☆

(ft. the housewardens)

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you.

In which, he overhears how much you want to marry him.

a/n: despite all the requests i have, i find myself writing more indulgent fics -sigh-

tw: cursing

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Oh dear, poor Riddle is beyond flustered. Hearing you so openly say how much you want to marry him and spend the rest of your waking moments with him makes his heart flutter and pound. Cheeks dusted a bright red and eyes dazed with a lovesick glimmer.

⋆ Riddle is beyond happy, yet incredibly nervous.

⋆ Marriage had been a thought that came to him occasionally. Seeing you in such a beautiful attire staring at him lovingly and saying you do. Wearing a ring he worked so so hard for. Kissing you lips to seal the deal, is something he would love to see.

⋆ Perhaps after he successfully gets his degree and starts his profession, he’ll indulge you. Get you the ring of your dreams and kneel in front of you in a garden of roses. Staring lovingly into your shocked gaze. A wonderful thought, no?

“My rose, although we are still young and still have much to do, I want you to know, in my heart and if life will allow it, my plan has involved you since the beginning. Ahem, in other words, please be patient, my dear.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ I feel like I say this all the time, but he’s a smug bastard!

⋆ Look, Leona has never thought about marriage, not that he’s like ‘ew, barf, marriage’ more like it's just not something that is incredibly pressing in his life. He remembers Farena and his wife’s proposal and wedding, and of course the countless of royal/nobel weddings he was forced to attend, but other than that, marriage was never a thought that crossed his mind.

⋆ However, when he began to go out with you, it had come across his mind once or twice. Especially on those days where the world seemed particularly against him and you wordlessly handed him food you lovingly prepared and fed him with his head on your lap. Or that one time, you asked him to teach you chess only for you to continuously fail and claim you’ll get better soon and the next week you came back with a smug look on your face and claim you’ve had help from the Chess Gods (riddle and youtube), only to get your ass beat again. Did that dissuade you? No, because you're persistent. Or the one time Leona had actually attended class and was bored as hell, only for you to tap on the window(successfully startling him) and telling him to meet you in five minutes at the botanical gardens. And the moment he arrived, you surprised him again with a cute little picnic and chess.

⋆ There, of course, were millions and millions of other reasons, but regardless, Leona wouldn’t mind marrying you.

⋆ And with enough persistence, he might just pop up the question sooner or later.

⋆ Too many things have slipped between his grasp, and he isn’t going to let you do the same.

“If you wanted me so badly, you could’ve just said so, herbivore. Ha, why so flustered? Cat’s got your tongue? Hm, c’mere…-yawn-…here, let’s get married.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ Runs to his office to bring up his 10 year plan to change marriage from year 6 all the way down to year 2.

⋆ Like this man has already booked everything you could possibly want for your wedding. Clothing, flowers, venue and food, music and guests. Hell even, the cleaners are all booked and ready. He’s been planning it since your third date.

⋆ Call him hopeful, or delusional, or just plain stubborn, but Azul is dead set on having you as his spouse.

⋆ Azul is over the moon, everyone can see his change in demeanor. So much softer, a lot more lenient and a little more eager to spend his time with you. This change is welcomed by everyone, especially the twins since they see Azul’s change as a new tool to get what they want and tease him even more.

⋆ Azul loves you, so much that it hurts. So knowing that you want him just as badly as he wants you, makes him swoon.

⋆ Lowkey immediately called his mom that he got engaged (even though he hasn’t yet). Literally kicking his feet back and forth as he talks about you. Pure adoration slipping off his tongue, sweet like honey.

⋆ And you better get ready, Azul is making his proposal as romantic and mind blowing as he can. An event neither of you can ever forget.

“Love seeing you today, my sea angel. My, did you do your hair? New clothes? Oh, I see you’re wearing the earrings I got you, how lovely. -ahem- Forgive for getting off track- hm? W-why am I so red? Ha…no-no, I’m not sick, sea angel. I simply have big news to tell you.”

Kalim Al Asim <3

⋆ The only thing stopping him from proposing outright is that he doesn’t have the ring he has under his pillow for you!

⋆ Oh and ofc, jamil’s there. (silently cursing you out and congratulating you simultaneously)

⋆ He wastes no time proposing outright. With the help of Jamil, he manages to plan an ideal and romantic time and place to declare his undying love for you. A lovely, fulfilling meal made by Jamil in the candlelit dining room of Scarabia followed by a stunning flight through the night clouds with the moon’s soft gazing gliding over you. And at the oasis, next to the bushes of blooming desert flowers and the warm caresses of the heat, does he pop the question!

⋆ Kalim literally cannot thank the world enough for bringing you into his life. You’re his everything! He swears his heart beats for you and only you. That his life never truly began until you smiled so brightly in his direction. His ruby eyes struck with a shameless lovestruck gaze.

⋆ Kalim truly has never been happier than with you. And knowing, he’s able to keep his happiness and ensure yours is everything he could ever dream of.

“Marry me! … Huh? Why are you hiding? ..oh! Haha, I can’t help it! I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met! I know you're the one for me! …hehe, I hope I’m the one for you!”

Vil Schoenhiet <3

⋆ How bold of you. Already demanding a proposal from the Vil Schoenheit. Goodness, have you never been taught any patience? Very well, let's see what he can do.

⋆ Vil already has a pinterest board of your future ready to go. Everything ready from the smallest detail. Similar to Azul, nothing will ruin his perfect day.

⋆ Of course, Vil has thought about marrying you. Though not until much later in life, he wants to pursue his career more and the thought of leaving you alone for many nights, leaves him with an ill feeling in his stomach. Surely, you’d understand the pressure of being a high demand actor/model these days, right?

⋆ Either way, Vil’s stuck with the idea for days. Often dozing off to the thought of you holding a bouquet of carefully put together flowers standing near an open window basking in the sunlight. Your hair is put up with a simple flower decorating your ear. A smile stretched ear to ear as you beckoned him near. Fixing his suit and kissing his cheeks, giggling sweetly and whispering as if you were both a lovestruck teen couple sneaking out at night.

⋆ Then he thinks of coming home after a day of interviews, coming through the door of his shared penthouse. Seeing you setting dinner up, a domestic sight to behold. The beautiful amethyst ring that adorns your ring finger glinting in the warm lighting. Kissing his lips and helping him sit down in his seat, carefully undoing his hair and massaging his scalp. He’ll hear you talk about your day, about the cat you saw, about the traffic you encountered on the way back from work and the cute kid you helped at the park.

⋆ That thought sounds so appealing, like an apple, red and ripe, beckoning for him to bite.

⋆ Eventually, it gets too much. His heart pounds and yearns to see you wearing the ring from his dreams, the ring he’s already contacted the most experienced jewelry maker in the world to make.

⋆ He’s like a ticking time bomb, simply waiting for a chance to prove his love to his dearest star.

“I’ve never believed in fairy tales, I’ll have you know. After constantly staring in productions of famous tales, the amazement and wonder of them has faded away. That’s not to say that I no longer love them, I just realized that I’ve been living that fairytale life I’ve read so much about with you… Don’t laugh! …heh, I suppose it is quite amusing, huh? My star, will you make my fairytale come true?”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ Literally crashes!!! Stops working and Ortho, my sweet baby, has to haul his lanky ass to the infirmary. Like, he acts like he got shot at, then electrocuted then told to go take out the trash.

�� On a more personal level though, Idia is actually really apprehensive to marriage. He’s seen how cold his parents are to each other. The silent dinners, the cold stares, the heartlessness of their touch. Nothing about his parents screamed a loving and healthy relationship. Perhaps when he was younger, more hopeful, did he dream of a day where he would whisk his one true love away and live happily ever after with them and his brother.

⋆ To him, marriage is scary. Like scarier than public speaking, or an ultra mega level boss that he’s severely under prepared for! (ahem-malleus-ahem)

⋆ But that was ages ago, and that dream had long since died. Accepting that he’s destined for a life of solitude. Rejecting all human feelings for a way to protect himself, his heart, from both harm and harming.

⋆ However, Idia finds out that he can’t. Despite him feeling less than human most days, he feels the most human when he’s with you. And as much as he hated it at first, he can’t deny that he loves the way his cheeks flare and heart dances at the sight of you.

⋆ And all of his favorite shoujo anime always guaranteed a happy ending for the main couple. And let's be honest, you’re obviously the main character and Idia's more than happy being your love interest.

⋆ Marriage, although scary and frightening, doesn’t sound that bad if you’re the one he’s giving his life too. Sharing a life with you is more than what Idia thinks he deserves.

⋆ But a life with you is a life worth living.

“Huh? What is it? It’s a w-wedding v-venue, ofc! I t-thought w-we could p-practice, y’know?….You like it! How long did it take? …oh, well Ortho helped me a bunch getting it ready…Oh! Before we start, we need to wait for Ortho to log into Minecraft. He wanted to be the flower girl.”

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Babe, he’s been waiting for this!

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the moment you locked eyes. His heart was forever bound to you the moment you told him your name. Souls intertwined when you held him to your warmth. Fingers threading against his hair, and voice turned into a mere whisper as you proclaimed your love for him.

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the beginning and never once doubted it. Never once shied away from the thought of giving you his life. Malleus adores you and wishes for nothing more than to wake up every morning knowing you are his and he is yours.

⋆ A hopeless romantic, Malleus jumbles from proposing right then and there or giving you a night to remember. Ultimately going for the latter.

⋆ Similar to Kalim, he treats you to dinner then a stroll through a moonlit garden. Fireflies dancing around you both, humming and singing as they recognize the adoration and love swirling through the night air. Leading you to a clearing, he’ll dance with you. Twirling you around to the melody of his deep, soothing humming. Hauntingly enchanting. Bringing you into a sense of security.

⋆ His large hands caressing every part of your body. Pools of bright emerald gazing oh so lovingly at you. How he wishes he could immortalize this moment. In his mind, he works fast to paint down your sweet, endearing, expression to his memory. Each stroke of his mind crafting you so lovingly, never wanting this precious moment to end.

⋆ And of course, everything comes to an end. A sweet end for the night. One filled with joyous tears and hopeful laughter. A bright future ahead of you both.

⋆ A future Malleus is willing to fight for to ensure.

“This color will suit you perfectly, darling. Such a beautiful design for such a beautiful soul, no? Don’t shy away from me…See, such a pretty expression. Please, allow me to bask in every expression you’ll ever make, my treasure.”

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst hcs #twisted wonderland hcs

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wheneclipsefalls · 16 days

Text

Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too.

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him.

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder.

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.”

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku.

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal.

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask.

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives.

“Who?”

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?”

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.”

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation.

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.”

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.”

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused.

“Why?”

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?”

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own.

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.”

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell.

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice.

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood.

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.”

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully.

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.” It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of.

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress.

“Yeah.” He says shortly.

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you.

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words.

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end.

It won’t be.

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?”

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze.

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.”

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out.

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you.

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path.

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week.

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal.

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course.

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.”

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile.

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines.

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint.

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame.

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold.

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned.

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.”

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below.

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.”

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start.

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship.

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat.

You pray that they never fall on you again.

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward.

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention.

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity.

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him.

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place.

Pain?

Hatred?

Guilt?

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro.

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had.

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge.

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all.

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery.

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly.

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected.

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building.

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room.

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster.

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list.

Piece of cake.

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope.

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to.

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear.

“You’re an idiot.” She says.

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent.

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.”

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!”

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all.

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly.

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end.

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response.

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance.

You can hardly believe your luck.

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all.

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now.

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do.

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway.

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes.

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it.

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case.

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care.

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board.

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down.

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box.

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space.

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl.

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?”

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away.

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.”

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear.

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.”

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you.

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.”

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world.

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties.

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with.

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together.

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.”

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly.

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly.

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start.

You make one fatal mistake, however.

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times.

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him.

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away.

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.”

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention.

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck.

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!”

“Quiet, pet.”

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place.

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping.

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together.

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life.

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts.

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor.

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage.

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can.

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you.

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak.

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize.

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.”

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape.

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.”

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi.

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom.

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment.

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly.

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat.

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.”

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before.

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading.

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!”

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land.

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!”

The sound of slapping skin stops.

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish.

“Repeat, pet.”

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears.

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning.

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!”

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be.

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.”

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips.

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment.

Well, maybe not the source per say.

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels.

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you.

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket.

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy.

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling.

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here.

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report.

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns.

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned.

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath.

It stops.

You breathe.

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite.

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male.

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched.

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother.

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time.

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place.

Lo’ak’s grin is feral.

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible.

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours.

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright.

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change.

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button.

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground.

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest.

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm.

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later.

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully.

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks.

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now.

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest.

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching.

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs.

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more.

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak.

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air.

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless.

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships.

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty

Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha

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kazvha · 24 days

Note

Hi, I saw your requests were open for the time being. I wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons (or anything really) about isagi, kaiser or noa from blue lock having a crush on gn reader. Like how would they fall for them, deal with their feelings and confess ? Thanks for considering, good day/night.

Summary: Them developing a crush on you

Including: Kaiser, Noa, Isagi

Notes: First time writing for them, sorry if they're ooc. Thanks for requesting!

MICHAEL KAISER

• Kaiser became aware of you for the first time when he bumped into you and didn't even spare you a look. Irritated, you scowled and mentioned how ugly his haircut was

• He only gave you a side glance and went on

• Since then, he began to notice your presence much more on the Bastard München campus

• He saw you when he bought a coffee in the cafeteria, he recognized you standing on the side of the football field while he was warming up; even after his taxing training he noticed you on his way to the dorms

• Kaiser isn't someone who shies away from conversation. When you became the assistant of his physiotherapist he had finally the opportunity to talk with you

• He already forgot about the bumping incident and conversed with you like he did with everybody else, a lot of self-absorbed remarks and snarky comments. And you didn't hesitate to bite back

• He was a bit friendlier with you than with everybody else though because you weren't his opponent on the field

• Eventually you warmed up to each other and the stinginess in your conversations toned down a little. Kaiser found himself looking forward to finding you around campus and agitating you

• He quickly realized that he had formed a crush on you. That's also when every conversation with you took a flirty spin. Kaiser was confident in himself, it would only be a matter of time until you fell for him

• Kaiser addresses you with so many silly pet names like "Süßkartoffel, Schnucki, or Bärchen"* instead of using your name

• He's generally touchy with people, but he became so much more touchy-feely with you after realizing his feelings

• Head resting on your shoulder to look at the document you're reading, hands around your waist just for fun, or even patting your head and messing up your hair :(

• Kaiser tries everything to sweep you off your feet and fluster you. When he's sure that you like him back, he immediately asks you out.

• "You like me right? I caught you staring at me multiple times these last few days," he smiles arrogantly and leans back with his hands behind his head as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. "Good for you that I like you too! Let's go out this weekend."

(* sweet potato, sweetie, little bear)

NOEL NOA

• You were the social media manager of Bastard München and had to talk to Noa multiple times throughout the week since he was the player who got the most likes and views on your posts and videos

• Noa had to do several challenges and Tiktok dances because of you. He thought that most of them were strange, but the rational part of him understood that his cooperation would be good for the team's publicity

• He was so bad at dancing and doing these challenges, you had to teach him every time you shot a new dance video

• Noa was very flustered every time you came up to his side and guided him with your hands on him, but he didn't let it show

• Over time he became used to your ideas and you two grew a little bond. He even developed a little crush on you. The thought of carrying out your ideas wasn't that bad anymore as long as he got to spend time with you

• He tried to reason why he liked you in the first place. Several things came to his mind: His heart beat faster every time you were near him. He had the desire to please you. When he was with you, there was always a slight smile on his lips

• Noa wouldn't say anything and continue like this for a year, to find out if his feelings were fleeting

• He didn't feel the need to be in a romantic relationship right now since his hands were full with football-related things. But if he still decided to pursue one, he wanted to be with the right person

• So when his heart remained unchanged after a year, he tried his luck and asked you out in one of your shootings

• "Let me be frank with you, I caught feelings for you. Could I take you out on a date, if that's okay?"

YOICHI ISAGI

• Isagi fell for you after you interviewed him. You didn't ask him superficial questions like every other reporter, but you understood his plays and asked him about his ambitions

• He was initially stunned by your questions but answered all of them with eagerness in his voice

• He was so giddy when you exchanged your contact info at the end of it

• Also when you texted him, asking him for another interview

• The next one had a more casual vibe to it. You two went out to the park and ate street food while you asked him various questions. You quickly became friends due to his open nature and it almost felt like a date...

• He became a nervous wreck every time before you met up and he asked his mom for advice on how to treat you like a gentleman

• Even when you two texted he probably would delete and rewrite his messages for like five minutes before actually sending them. His friends tease him because of that

• He definitely practiced his whole confession at home in front of the mirror and when the time to confess came, he quickly rattled his whole speech off before he started second-guessing himself

• "Look, I immediately thought there was a connection between us the moment we met. You understand all my plays, but you're not only engrossed in my football journey, you're interested in the real me too! So, yeah it's actually no wonder that I developed a crush on you... Do you think you could accept my feelings?"

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tojivu · 3 months

Text

bite me ❤︎ ! ⋆ jjk men

an. my first multichar work !

cw. hickeys/lovebites with gojo, geto, toji, nanami + the terrible aftermath. suggestive, otherwise quite sfw. f!reader. suguru isn't a curse user.

playing. bite me by enhypen.

GOJO SATORU is a cocky fucking bastard. just 12 hours ago, he had you wrapped around his finger — quite literally, as well — and his lips were practically superglued to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbones. it didn't occur to you, though, that your boyfriend didn't have the weekend off; after all, he did tell you he was going to be home the entirety of it.

well, you should've known that satoru would do anything to have his way with you — a little white lie, that's what he tells himself — but he had to admit that he couldn't think very straight, otherwise, he wouldn't have let you leave so many.

it's 11 in the morning when you receive a text from shoko. you can hear the disgusted yet unsurprised tone through the pixels, asking you why your boyfriend was sporting roughly 4 — yes, they were so obvious that she could count — patches of purple on his neck and jawline.

shoko: satoru looks like he got in a fight with a leech lol

when satoru comes home, the mortified feeling intensifies by tenfold — they're much more obvious in real life. the colour has faded a little, but hickeys are still hickeys, and your boyfriend is still an imbecile.

"what?"

"you have no shame," you turn your head away from the man standing at the entryway of your shared home, and back to the television. "you said you were gonna be home. you left before i woke up—"

"important jujutsu stuff," satoru interrupts. he takes his blindfold off, quick footsteps as he makes his way to the couch. your arms are folded together, an attempt to show satoru that you were upset. "couldn't be helped, baby. 'm sorry."

you turn your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed when you realise your boyfriend doesn't care one bit — he thinks there's nothing wrong with people knowing he's unavailable, and even more so when you're the reason.

"can you at least use some of my foundation?"

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU has a little bit of dignity, but the collar of his shirt is a little too low to be coincidental. he secretly loves it whenever his friends ask about it, tease him about finally having a girl when he's been alone for so long.

it's a friday afternoon when he's at the gym getting his daily workouts in, and his cheeks flush when satoru nudges his bicep and lets a hearty laugh out; "aw, suguru's gotten busy, huh? this why you didn't turn up yesterday?"

suguru groans and tells satoru to shut the fuck up, but there's no denying that he was in fact busy. nevertheless, of course suguru had decorum; he covered himself up in front of the public and his family, but he really couldn't care less if his closest friends knew about what he was up to.

besides, his neck wasn't as bad as yours — he could only feel guilty as he watched you paint colour corrector and various shades of concealer on your neck, even doing the chilled spoon method; eventually giving up and settling for a scarf when they don't do the trick.

"i didn't know you were going out today," he says from the bed as you sit across the room at your mirror. "i fucked up."

"'s okay, sugu!" you smile reassuringly, contrasting the worried look on your face that spells it out for him — the sweet tone of your voice only makes suguru feel worse. "the scarf will work fine."

"i'm still sorry, baby. really."

he really isn't. but the guilt makes up for it, he thinks; he only hopes your mother doesn't catch a peek of the purple hiding beneath the fabric.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO also does not give two fucks. this man could leave the house absolutely littered in bite marks from your pearly whites — he loves looking at himself in the mirror in the morning, when you're still fast asleep, just admiring the artwork that is his body and the proof of the love you have for him on it.

this wasn't the case with the girls he used to mess around with, though. he absolutely loathed having any evidence of a woman on him, whether that be the scent of her perfume lingering on his clothes or in his apartment — or her messages appearing on his lock screen and his friends asking about it.

yet, it's different with you; but he supposes everything has been different with you. he thinks he's serious this time, about the relationship you two have — and he wants everyone to know that too, though he'll never say that out loud.

"tojiii?" you whine, arms stretching out as your eyes adjust to the sunlight that pours into the bedroom. you turn to his side of the bed, and you're not surprised when he isn't there — it's ironic. the first time you woke up in bed alone after a night with toji, you panicked and thought that he disappeared.

it's just then that your lover opens the door, duffle bag slung around his shoulder diagonally; his right shoulder hits the doorframe, almost fitting the entire width, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks when you see the hickeys on his neck.

you use your arms to push yourself up, sitting cross-legged on the sheets. "did you go out like that?"

"like what, princess?"

you smile at the name, but your lips don't part to answer — toji knows you know, but it's annoying how he acts so natural about it. he sets his bag down and his strong arms wrap around you, picking you up as if you're light as paper.

"show off," you mutter against the crook of his neck. "you need to start wearing hoodies to the gym."

toji catches a whiff of your scent and thinks you're dense for saying such a thing — he is finally proud to have someone by his side, so he might as well let everyone else know. he has to.

"not happening."

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO does cover up, but he wouldn't mind if someone saw them. he's very mature about it, really — not embarrassed in the slightest. after all, you were his wife and he was your husband. things are bound to happen between you two behind closed doors.

that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to conceal them, though. he asks to use your makeup to hide them — only to be fucked over when your shades don't match all too well. it's only then that he lets an exasperated sigh leave his lips, and you feel a hundred times guiltier.

"i'm sorry, kento," you bite down on your bottom lip out of worry. "maybe we can use the spoon?"

he shakes his head. nanami was running late, and he had to leave immediately.

"it's okay, darling," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "yaga won't be upset."

you knew gojo would tease him endlessly, and you also knew that nanami couldn't stand him. you almost tell him to stay home for a little longer so you can figure out a way to fix this.

"it's nothing to be ashamed of. we're adults," he reminds you, as if the events of last night and the evidence of said events do not. "i'll see you when i'm home?"

you sigh, middle and thumb fingers rubbing your temples. if only you were thinking straight — but you knew that was almost always impossible with kento. "okay. have a good day at work, ken."

kento plants one more kiss on your lips, and he has to pull himself away before another second passes; he always had trouble stopping himself with you.

he supposes that habit has come to bite him in the ass, now.

"thank you, sweetheart. i will."

yeah, gojo will never let him live this down.

280124 — is this ooc.

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagines #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto imagines #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami imagines #toji x reader #toji fluff #toji imagines

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bunnliix · 1 month

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Most to least likely in Skz to casually give you their black card for purchases

Since I'm having a lil trouble with a writing block today, I figured I'd post this up haha

Also, this is totally inspired by the video of Woozi giving Vernon his card to pay for a bubble wand.

Chan

This man would be so casual about it. You wouldn’t even need to ask. He’d notice that you're getting ready to go out, and instead of handing it to you, because he knows you'd try and hand it back, he would slip it into your wallet or purse for you to find later. He wants to take care of you, and this is one way that he can. He'd also act like it's nothing to give you his card, because to him it truly is nothing. Taking care of you is his biggest priority besides Stray Kids.

2. Minho

He would be casual about giving you his card, yes but it doesn't mean that you'd get it easily. He just wouldn't want to make a big deal about handing it to you for you to buy whatever it is that you want. He'd still be a cheeky bastard about it, just quietly and only for you to see. However, he also enjoys that you allow him to care for you in this way, and never truly minds you using it. Plus you use it to buy treats and toys for his cats, which he loves because his SO loves his cats as much as he does

3. Seungmin

Seungmin would also not make a huge deal about it. He would however be similar to Minho, and be cheeky about giving it to you. He would tease you a bit before and as he handed it to you, but never really withheld it because he knew you wouldn't do anything stupid with it and he enjoys seeing what you bring home from your shopping trips. You always give him little shows of what you bought. And if it's not clothing, you'd just be showing it off while telling him what exactly it is. He'd sit there smiling as this was his reward, listening to you chatting away as you showed off what you used his card for.

4. Felix

Felix would be super sweet about it. He wouldn't hesitate to give you his card, but he also wouldn't be silent about it. He'd make sure you knew that you could use it to buy anything. He'd also say something cute to you as he handed it over. He didn't mind what you bought with his money, he wanted you to feel happy, and if buying things you liked did that, then that was perfectly fine. He knows you'd have such a big smile on your face as you showed off all of your purchases, and no matter how much or how little you spent, it's all worth it to see your smile.

5. Hyunjin

Look, he's here because as much of a drama llama as he can be, I think the drama would more so extend to him begging and pleading to go with you. He'd want to be a part of the shopping experience, not just see the results of it like some of the others would be fine with. So either you'd have to give him a good reason why he can't come with, and then he'd give you the card after some whining, or you'd have to agree to him coming with. You'd still have to show off everything after you got home, even if he went with you. He loves seeing you dress up and show off for him.

6. Innie

He's a menace, he's gonna be loud about giving you his card. He will tease you about it, but only around the boys, he'd never do it publicly, or loud enough to attract strangers attention. He'd never be that much of an ass about it, but you'd have to put up with his antics before he'd hand over that black card. You'd learn that he did it out of a teasing love, knowing that he never had any problem about giving it to you, he just liked to be a menace.

7. Han

Okay, he's going to be pretty braggy to people that he has enough money to spend on you, that he has a black card that he'll freely give out to you. He's told you many times that he doesn't care what you use it for, and willingly hands it to you for even the smallest purchases. He brags to the boys way too much about it, but everyone knows it's because he's proud to be able to provide for you. He also is very touchy as he gives you the card, making sure you know he wants a show when you come back home afterwards.

8. Changbin

This man is going to be the loudest and most proud man about the fact that you're using his card. He doesn't care who hears him, he will brag to everyone about it, but mostly the other boys. He's just so proud to have enough money that allows for him to provide for you. He wants to treat his partner right, and that includes letting you spend his money any way you want. He'd definitely want you to show him everything you bought, even if it's something little and not worth showing off. He wants to see what you liked so much that you bought it. He's just a very vocal person about this, he's the type of person to brag about their partner, and this gives him yet another reason to.

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demonictacobeard · 2 months

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Charlie, pacing the floor: Vaggie, I’m worried about Adam. He hasn’t come out of his room in a week! And he hasn’t spoken to anybody since the first day

Vaggie, mumbling: Coming from someone who was his subordinate, trust me that’s a good thing

Charlie, not hearing her because Vaggie spoke so low: He has texted my dad, which is a good sign but also weird?

Vaggie, raising an eyebrow: That is weird, I wouldn’t expect that because there’s the whole wife seducing thing between them

Charlie, nodding and poking her phone: It shocked me too. But Dad spammed him with pictures of different ducks he made and Adam actually replied.

Vaggie: Did he tell him to stop?

Charlie, shaking her head: No, he was confused as fuck why Dad’s in love with ducks. I think Dad’s still typing the response to that….but I’m losing track of what I was originally saying. I’m worried about him! What do we do?

Vaggie, begrudgingly assisting only because she loves her girlfriend: We’ve only taken on residents who’ve been in Hell for a few years, Angel’s been here since the 40’s. But It’s only been a month and a week since Adam’s been in Hell, he’s still coping with it and grieving his old life. That will take time, give him space to wallow then start including him in the activities

Charlie, sighing: You're right. He needs time. And while we wait maybe I can at least get some ribs sent to his room to make him feel a little better……

Meanwhile, Adam who is in a nest of covers hiding from the new world he was stuck in: I didn’t think anybody could have this many fucking opinions about ducks. Except those fucker’s who invented the duck stamp competition on earth, Hah the apple bastard didn’t mention that. I’m gonna rub his face in it

Lucifer, his wings popping out in excitement: THE HUMANS HAVE WHAT?!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #guitarduck #Adam is going through it #Grieving and Lucifer’s impending interrogation about what the humans have been doing concerning ducks in the last thirty years #Charlie and her unrecognized sainthood #Vaggie will help redeem Adam for Charlie but she doesn’t have to like it

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hyunniesgirl · 3 months

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Bad intentions | Part 1

Pairing: nerd!Han Jisung x popular!reader(afab)

Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut(for the story in general, this part has no smut)

Words count: 8,056

Slightly inspired in the movie She's All That

*This is the second fic to my series Love is a mess. The stories can be read as standalones but they are all connected so some details mentioned may sound off.

Disclaimer: Jisung is proud asf, OC has kind of a sad backstory and has anxiety(not explored very deeply but there are descriptions of her symptoms), this part is just suggestive so no smut

Part 2

This story is NSFW and is going to have +18 themes so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: okay for the sake of the plot let's pretend for a moment that Han Jisung can be considered anything other than smocking hot, alright?

A/N²: My idea was for all the stories from this series to be oneshots but I just kept writing and writing and this one was almost 13k already and I haven't even gotten to the good part so I thought "I almost never read anything over 10k" so I split the oneshot for the sake of my readers attention span.

Jisung likes to think that he's better than all the guys fawning over you, he likes to think that even if he had a chance, he'd never lust over you. But well, sometimes a strong denial turns out to be an implicit affirmation.

It all started in social studies, he was trying to go over his notes for the test but the conversations happening at the same time didn't let him pay any attention to what was written in the sheets. There were five different conversations happening at the same time, but they all had the same subject: you.

Apparently, you had a boyfriend who cheated on you with a girl from a rival university? Or some trivial shit like that. Jisung doesn't understand why that matters to anyone but you and the said boyfriend. He doesn't understand why everyone feels like such a painful experience is any of their business. But he guesses it comes with the job.

Everyone knows you, you're the classic cheer captain, who dates — or dated — the infamous quarterback in the football team. People envy you, cherish you, they want to be you and he always thought they loved you, but after hearing so many snarky comments about you in the last 20 minutes, he's actually starting to pity you.

You wanted to kill him, Seunghoon, that bastard. He destroyed a relationship of a year just to get in someone's pants? Fucking idiot. You hate him so much for cheating on you, but you hate him the most for not showing up kneeling at your door and asking for forgiveness. Who does he think he is? He would never have gotten his position on the football team if it wasn't for you, everyone knows that.

It's an understatement to say you are always the best in everything you put your mind into and if you're not the best by nature, you work hard until you become the best. You are smart, pretty, popularity is your thing, you're used to getting everyone's attention wherever you go. Everyone loves you, or at least they pretend well enough.

So when you started dating this guy, who was a nobody it was pretty shocking for everyone else. You turned him into the most popular guy so he could stay by your side, so you expected a little bit of loyalty from him. Guess that was expecting too much from a horny dog like him.

You did love Seunghoon, you wouldn't have dated him for a year if you didn't. But his character was always questionable, that, you won't deny. There's that saying that love makes you blind but you knew that he's no good and yet stayed with him, that's on you.

You can't stand the pity looks people give you when you walk down the hallway, they could at least pretend they are not talking shit about you behind your back.

To think the semester has only just started, you wish you could take a year off to make sure things die down nicely. But if you do, you'll definitely lose your position as cheer captain, there are too many people willing to get rid of you so they can get your title.

It's best for you to try and get rid of these thoughts, so you hold your head high turning on a corner, decided to pretend everything is okay. That's when you bump into someone, dropping the books you have in your hands and your phone screen down on the floor, gasping immediately, the last thing you need right now is a broken phone.

When you lean over to collect your things, the person who bumped into you does the same, going for the phone at the same time and touching hands with you. A strange wave of electricity makes your whole body shiver by that touch, making you snap your head in the direction of the person.

You know him. He's one of the members of 3racha, a music group everyone loves. Curiously, this is the first time you have seen him outside of a presentation. He's clearly different from the other members, wearing baggy clothes and displaying a hair that's undeniable too long with some questionable choice of colors on it. You can't even really see his eyes, however, he has something about him that makes you refuse to take your eyes off him.

He grabs your book and phone, ignoring your shameless stare. Standing up and handing your things to you.

“Sorry, I can pay for your phone's repair”, he says and for the first time in a minute you can divert your eyes from him, looking at the screen, absolutely shattered and sighing.

“No, it's okay. I was the one who was distracted”, you smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. Why do you feel the sudden urge to flirt with him? He's not even your type. Or at least, that's what you think.

He hums, not really interested, taking a paper out of his bag and writing something on it.

“Here, this is my number if you change your mind”, he gives you the paper, saying goodbye and disappearing somewhere in the hallway.

When you finally meet Seunghoon, he doesn't even apologize, actually, he doesn't look regretful at all. He has a smug smile, as if what he did is not serious, as if he's better than you now.

You always had a thought in the corner of your mind that maybe he had some kind of inferiority complex when it came to you, but you didn't think he would go as far as to cheat on you just to prove he is better in some way.

“You don't harbor hard feelings, right?” He smirks, chin up. “I know you're much better than me, I'm sure you won't mind what happened and we can still be friends”, he's mocking you, you recognize that tone.

You're grasping the fabric of your skirt under the table, did he really pull you away from your practice to say this? The audacity of this man.

“Of course I don't mind”, you smile kindly, acting as unbothered as you possibly can. This is something you learned in so many years of having eyes on you all the time: pretend. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry or even get mad. If you are able to pretend you don't care at all about him, that's what you're gonna do.

“I'm glad-”, his smile falters a bit, you are sure he expected you to break. That shows how little he knows about you, you would never make a scene in public.

“Actually, I'm even seeing someone else already”, you blurt out, trying to make him more baffled and it works, he frowns and the look of confusion in his face is priceless.

“Well, that's great for you”, Seunghoon clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “We should definitely go on a double date sometime”

“Of course, I'd love that”, you nod, standing up. “I'll be going now, but it was great seeing you”, you lie, turning around and walking back to the gymnasium.

When it sinks in what you just did, you want to hit your head against the wall. What the hell was that? Why would you even tell him you're seeing someone when you're not? For fucksake, you're sure he's too proud to let this go, he'll try to find out who it is that you're seeing and when he finds out you lied, you'll be done for, faced with utter humiliation again.

“Why would you tell him you're seeing someone?” Mina asks, looking at you like you are the dumbest person alive, and honestly, you do feel like that at the moment.

“I don't know”, you cry out, “I guess I wanted him to feel miserable”

“And look where that got you”, Miyeon says, worriedly.

“I know, I'm an idiot”, you tell them and your friends nod, making you glare at them. “Well, I guess I'll just have to find a new boyfriend”, you say, dreadfully.

“You know it's not that easy”, Mina says, “you built Seunghoon from the scratch to the guy he is today, it won't have the same effect if you get just anybody that people already see everyday, it has to be shocking”

“Well, I don't know”, you sigh, “is there even someone like that here?”

“I don't know”, Miyeon says, “you need someone charming, someone who people can't take their eyes off”

“It won't be good if he's already known, it should be someone who's usually invisible”, Mina completes.

You sigh, there's only one person you can think of who instantly fits that description.

“What about him?” Miyeon takes you out of your thoughts, pointing to someone behind you. “Isn't he part of 3racha?”

“I mean, he fits what we are looking for”, Mina says.

You turn around, finding the guy you bumped on a few days ago sitting at the table behind you, you're sure you can remember his name if you just try a little harder. He's sitting with Changbin, the other guy from 3racha who is kind of your friend.

“But is there something for you to do there?” Mina looks at him with squinted eyes, trying to see how you could improve him.

“He's cute”, you check him out shamelessly, nodding to yourself.

“I'm not sure if you could make Seunghoon jealous with cuteness”, she shrugs.

“He's not just cute”, you bit your bottom lip, thinking hard. “He could use a different haircut and maybe a new wardrobe but I see a lot of potential in there”

“Well”, Mina sighs in defeat, “let's make a bet them”

“Are you in middle school?” You ask her, rolling your eyes.

“If you can make Seunghoon regret cheating on you, I'll give up on trying for cheer captain next semester”, she ignores your question, stretching her hand for you to shake it.

“As if you were going to win anyway”, you joke.

Of course she could win, Mina is your best friend and also the best dancer you know, she could easily steal your position if you didn't try so hard to keep it, so you do what you have to do, shaking her hand even though you don't have a good feeling about it.

It's been a few days since you decided to make Jisung your new boyfriend, you just haven't figured out how to approach him. For starters, you can't even find him in this damn university, how the hell can a member from a trio as popular as 3racha just walk around without being noticed? That's a mystery you'll have to solve later.

“Jisung? Why would you want me to set you up with him?” Changbin asks, confused.

“Well, I find him cute”, you shrug, that's not a lie.

“He's not your type, he's totally different from Seunghoon”, he stares at you with a brow raised, sipping from his drink.

“Why would I want someone like Seunghoon? My reputation is almost ruined because of that guy”, you say.

“You got a point”, Changbin sighs, “let me talk to him first”, he can feel something is up but with all the mess happening in his life already, he doesn't have the energy to dig any deeper.

Jisung stares at his friend for about five minutes, no words being said. Why would someone like you want to go out with someone like him?

He's pretty popular because of 3racha, but not near as popular as you or your friend group. Everyone knows he's an awkward guy, when he's on stage his personality changes, he's confident, it feels great, like he could conquer the world, but when he goes back to real life, he just doesn't feel the need to be perceived. Jisung doesn't have a reason to be popular outside of the stage, he's fine with being invisible.

“So, what do you think?” Changbin asks.

“I don't know”, Jisung shrugs.

“Think carefully, it's not everyday that someone like y/n wants to go on a date with an ordinary guy”, the older one insists.

Well, maybe he likes being ordinary. He always thought he wouldn't be like those guys who would do anything for a pretty girl, now it's his chance to prove it.

“You can tell her that I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it's a good idea”, Jisung says, confidently. Even though he wants to punch himself after saying it.

Changbin sighs.

“If you're sure about it”, he shrugs, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

What if he's just letting his prejudice get in the way of meeting someone nice? He sighs to himself, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Well, that's unexpected. Did you go so low as to be rejected by just anybody? How could Jisung not even accept a single date with you? Are you ugly? No, you're sure it's not that. Are you boring? It's not that either, of course. You don't think there's a single thing that would make him turn you down. Maybe you're not his type? No, you're everyone's type.

You won't give up, though. Han Jisung has too much potential for you to just leave him be, you're sure you can make him be even better than Seunghoon ever was. So you march to social studies, you asked Changbin who reluctantly told you that Jisung takes that class.

You enter the classroom earning a few glances, smiling kindly at the people you know and introducing yourself to the ones you don't.

Jisung is seated in the corner, writing something on his notebook, earbuds on. You walk up to him, sitting by his side and waiting for him to notice you, which doesn't take long. He feels a presence too close to him, making him turn to look at you.

He frowns, taking his earbuds slowly, trying to process your present so close to him.

“How can I help you?” He asks and you tilt your head, he's even cuter up close.

“I heard you turned me down”, you say, leaning over the desk to watch him.

“Yeah, sorry”, he shrugs nonchalantly, hurting your pride even more. He should feel at least a bit apologetic, shouldn’t he?

“What do I have to do for you to go out with me?” You push more. You even came here looking for him, you're not going to be discouraged just by a bit of indifference.

“Why do you want to go out with me anyway?” He frowns, it’s not that he doesn’t want to say yes, it’s just that every time that he feels tempted to actually lust over you his pride gets a little more hurt, did you think there was no chance of you being rejected by him?

“Well, I like you. You're cute”, you tell him as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“You don't even know me”, he scoffs, ignoring the fact that you called him cute.

“That's exactly why I want to go out with you, dummy. So I can get to know you better”, you smile, knowing he won't be able to get out of this situation without telling you why he won't go out with you.

“Well, you’re not my type”, he clears his throat, adjusting himself on his seat and trying to sound convincing, you’re clearly everyone’s type. “And I don’t think we would have much to talk about”

You’re going to fight him on this, argue that you’re a very interesting person that can talk about a lot of things, but the professor enters the classroom, eyeing you and tilting his head in confusion, since you passed this class last semester.

“I’m going to let it go for now”, you stand, “but don’t think you’re getting rid of me”, you huff, walking out of the class. He sure is stubborn, but you’re more.

Jisung feels like he's in those movies with a stalker following him around. You know, when the protagonist is sure that someone is watching them but every time they look around there's no one there? Except that in his case, you're always there. Every place he goes has you in it, glaring at him.

You're not actually glaring at him, even though he thinks you're. You're just shocked that he still hasn't come around to accepting going out with you, so you have to stare at him because you have to understand him. Why is he so different from the other guys? Of course you don't think you're better than anyone, but since news of your break up with Seunghoon broke out, your phone has been blowing up with texts from guys you didn't even know had your number, saying weird things and asking you out. So why is the only person you want to hear from, not giving a shit about you?

You ask Changbin's help but he refuses to meddle anymore than he already has, saying that he knows your intentions are not entirely good so he won't help anymore.

“Did you know we have a class with your new crush?” Mina says while looking at herself in the mirror of the clothes store you're visiting.

“What?” You take your eyes out of your phone to look at her, you have been staring at your screen for thirty minutes, trying to fight the urge to just call Jisung. He gave you his number so you could charge him with the repair of your broken phone but you already had it fixed, maybe you could use that little incident to your advantage.

“We have French with him, you chose Spanish, right?” Miyeon asks, looking around to see if she likes anything.

“Are you for real?” You ask and she looks at you, nodding. “Do you think there are still open spots in your class?” You ask, lost in thoughts.

“You're not going to switch classes just so you can get close to him, right?” Mina turns around to look at you, a brow raised in questioning. “Right?” She presses after you don't answer.

“I kinda prefer French though”, you smirk, standing up. “The school's office is still open now, isn't it?” You ask and both of your friends exchange looks, sighing and shaking their heads, sure that you're a lost cause.

It was not difficult to switch classes, you used up all your charm with the office’s secretary so she wouldn't argue too much about it. You just need a warm smile, some tiramisu and to compliment her nails.

You enter the class smiling victoriously, seeing your friends seated side by side and finding Jisung sitting alone in the back. You waltz over there, putting your things on the desk and sitting by his side.

Jisung takes a deep breath, side eyeing you for a moment.

“Are you serious right now?” He sighs, “you know you can't just keep coming to my classes, right? That's lowkey stalking”, he argues, making you chuckle.

“I don't know what you're talking about”, you shrug, “I'm enrolled in this class”, you tell him, pulling a paper with your schedule printed on it and showing it to him. “This is the only spot available”

He looks around to check, biting his bottom lip, embarrassed. He should have checked before assuming things but that doesn't change the fact that you have been around him too much lately.

“Okay”, he sighs, fidgeting on his seat.

“If I'm really making you uncomfortable I can find somewhere else to sit”, you say, even though you want to make him give in and accept to go out with you, you don't want him to feel genuinely bothered by you.

Jisung on the other hand feel likes he can give in at any moment, the second time he saw you looking at him he wanted to stand up and just go to you, telling you he would accept to go out with you, fuck his pride.

“It's okay”, he clears his throat, “You can sit whatever you want”, he says, making you smirk.

“I mean, are you sure?” You lean in his direction, glancing at his lap.

Jisung chokes immediately, coughing so much he thinks he's going to die, you didn't mean what he thinks you do, right?

Class starts before you can mess with him a little bit more, you didn't think you would have so much fun teasing someone.

Jisung stands up and leaves as soon as the professor says the class ended, he doesn't want to stay close to you for a minute more. He couldn't pay attention to class because your scent kept coming his way. He would glance at you and you wouldn't even be acknowledging him, paying 100% of attention in class. It did make him upset that he didn't seem to cause the same reaction in you as you do to him.

Except that, as stated before, you're very good at pretending. You really wanted to tease him every time you caught him staring at you, you could see everything he was doing with your peripheral vision and you wanted to giggle with every time he pouted while looking at you.

That's proof enough for you that not being his type it's not the reason why he's reluctant to go out with you but you didn't even think about the possibility of him not liking girls at all.

“As far as I know, he does like girls”, Changbin tells you. “I'm not sure about guys though, maybe he does too?”

“Well, that's good then”, you sigh, crossing your arms and nodding to yourself, lost in thoughts.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, with a brow raised. “Binnie, can't you help me out? Just this once” You plead again, giving him puppy eyes.

“Nope, I'm not sure what your intentions are but what I know is that you don't do things without a reason”, he shakes his head.

You sigh, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you know how to convince Changbin but it's the first time in your life that you have to resort to such dirty methods.

“You know, I met someone really nice one of these days”, you tell him, smiling friendly. “She's really cute and she has been helping me in a class we have together”, Changbin glares at you. “I think you know her, but she doesn't seem to like you at all…” You pout, making a show.

“What are you trying to say?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I'm trying to say that if you help me out, I can do the same”, you shrug, “you have so many virtues, Binnie, I'm confident I can make her see you in a different light”

You can at least try to convince her that Changbin is a good guy even though she's absolutely sure that he's bad news.

“Are you saying I should sell out my best friend so you can help me?” You see Changbin hesitate and that's when you push a little more.

“Come on, it's not like I'll do something awful to him”, you say, “I just want one date”

He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, alright”, he grunts. “I'll help you out just this one time and that's it”

“You're the best!” You say, clapping your hands excitedly.

This is definitely not how you thought the help would happen. The sun is burning your skin and the giggles of people around you are making you stressed. A pool party, why did he think this was going to be a good idea?

Just because you're at the same party as Jisung it doesn't mean you'll get a chance to talk to him or even accomplish your goal but even though the odds are against you, you are still going to try.

The day is too hot, the pool is bustling with people and you're uncomfortable in your bikini. In most days you love your body, you think you're pretty just the way you are but sometimes you have bad days, where you feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw you have.

You came to the party because you couldn't lose the opportunity but you can't see Jisung anywhere and your anxiety is only growing bigger. So as soon as you get the chance to escape, you do it. You wander around the frat house, looking for a place with no one, maybe Changbin's room is empty since he pretty much doesn't live in the house.

You walk up the stairs, swerving in the middle of the crowd who are talking and laughing with drinks in their hands, it's very overwhelming.

The corridor where the rooms are have less people, so you walk until the end to find Changbin's nameplate on the door. You knock twice to make sure there's no one there, the music in the pool is pretty loud so you can't hear if there are voices in the room but you wait a few seconds so people can get dressed if there is someone fucking there. You open the door slowly, finding the room empty. Hurrying inside and closing the door so no one sees you going in.

It's a pretty huge room with things that suit Changbin's personality to a T. There's gym equipment all over the place, a big bed in the middle, a door you can only guess leads to a private bathroom and a TV that you're not sure was ever used. But again, your friend only comes by the house once in a while since he lives in an apartment downtown with Chan and Jisung.

Changbin managed to convince Jisung that it would be a good way to promote 3racha if they threw a party and it didn't take much convincing to the frat president since that guy loves partying.

You sit by the bed, trying to take deep breaths. The burning sensation in your chest is easing a bit with the calm and silence of the room. Silence that is immediately interrupted by the door of the bathroom being opened, just to show a half naked Han Jisung coming out of there with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

You two stare at each other for a minute, both not sure what to do next, both frozen. You manage to stand up, turning your back to him, face burning with embarrassment.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone already here”, you clarify. “I- I knocked on the door”, you inform him as if that could change anything.

Jisung finds your reaction funny, he didn't take you for the shy type, who gets flustered by seeing a man like this.

“I was showering, I didn't hear the knock”, he says, walking to Changbin's wardrobe to get some clothes he leaves there for eventual emergencies since the frat house is closer than his house to the university.

“Yeah, I guessed that”, you gulp, trying to calm your beating heart. You didn't get to take a good look at him, but the little you did made you quite surprised. Jisung is pretty athletic and hot.

“You can turn around now”, he says. You do it slowly, still embarrassed.

“I'm sorry again”, you sigh.

“It's okay, it can happen”, he shrugs, sitting on the bed. He can't help but look at you too for a moment, you're wearing a deep green bikini that goes perfectly with the tone of your skin. You have a thin transparent shirt that doesn't leave much to the imagination making him bite his bottom lip. If you try to make a move on him again right now, he won't be able to say no.

However, his not very pure thoughts are interrupted by your uneasiness, shifting your weight from a leg to another, hands trying to cover your thighs. Did he look at you for too long? Did he make you uncomfortable? Jisung diverts his gaze from you immediately, he's always proud to say that he's not the same as the other guys who are just horny and nothing more, but look at him now.

“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable”, he stands up, ready to leave the room, “I'm sorry”

“No, you didn't make me uncomfortable”, you say, taking a step closer to him to stop him from leaving. “I was already feeling not great”, you clarify.

“Did something happen?” He asks, worried.

“No- I-”, you stop yourself from talking more, why do you actually want to talk to him about your problems? You don't even know him. “I'm having a bad day, my self esteem is kinda low so I feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw I have”

Jisung stops for a moment, malfunctioning. His head tilting to the side as he stares at you with furrowed brows.

“Exactly which “flaws” are we talking about?” He asks, making quotes with his fingers.

“I don't know”, you glance down to your feet, feeling embarrassed. “There are so many girls here who are much prettier than me”, you sigh, “oh, I'm not jealous of them, they are great. I'm a huge activist of women hyping up other women”, you add quickly. “Usually I won't let myself compare to other people, but when I'm having one of these days I just can't help to think things like: is my hair pretty enough? Should I go on a diet? Maybe I should hit the gym more often so I can look like that”, you sigh, you sound ridiculous. You are supposed to make him want to go out with you, not scare him with all your insecurities.

Jisung stares at you for a few seconds, realization hitting him. So you're human too, he already knew that, but seeing the pretty and popular y/n come out of the pedestal people built for her, makes him believe that maybe you're very different from what he thought about you.

“I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this”, Jisung clears his throat, trying to not sound like an idiot, “but I think you're pretty and even though you may have some flaws, everyone has. I can assure you yours are not in your looks”

You feel your cheeks growing hotter, that's surprising, a guy never managed to make you blush.

“But you said I'm not your type”, you pout, seizing the opportunity to tease him.

“Well, I had to say something so you would stop coming after me”, he sighs, “clearly it didn't work”

“So, will you go out with me?” You ask, hopeful and he sighs.

“Why do you want to go out with me so badly?”

“I already told you, you're cute. Also, you make me feel at ease”, it's not a lie. Jisung is the first person other than your friends that effortlessly makes you comfortable.

“Fine”, he huffs, “I already gave you my number so just text me”, he tells you and you smile, is this finally happening? Did he finally say yes?

You planned a whole date in an amusement park, it's cliche for a first date, although you never really went on a date there. You have never done this before for any guy you dated, but there's something about Han Jisung, you just want him to like you.

He's waiting for you in front of the park, looking nervous while scrolling through his phone. You bend down a bit, tilting your head to make him notice you.

“Hey”, you smile waiting for his greeting that doesn't come. Jisung is not easily impressionable but you just leave him speechless every time, he always takes a few seconds to take in your beauty before his brain starts functioning again.

That's the reaction you wanted from him and you are glad you managed to get it. You spent almost four hours getting ready, changed outfits at least ten times and did and redid your makeup over and over. In the end, you chose a natural look. You put on a tight high waisted skirt, a tank top and sneakers since you would be walking a lot. Your hair is down and your make-up is light, so it won't get smudged by hot weather.

“H-hi”, Jisung says, trying to recompose himself, he's not sure if he should comment on how pretty you look or if that would make you uncomfortable.

He can't help but think that it's wrong of him to be there with someone like you, someone totally out of his reach.

“What should we do first?” You ask excitedly, it's been years since the last time you went to an amusement park with your family.

“I think we can walk for a bit and see what catches our attention”, he says and you nod, walking into the park.

There are so many people, Jisung can't help but notice how you're looking around like a child getting to know a new place.

“Do you come often to these kinds of places?” He asks.

“Hm, not really”, you answer, turning around to look at him. “The last time was when I was a child probably”

“Oh?” He frowns. “You seemed excited, I thought your ex boyfriend must have brought you here at least a few times”

“Yeah, well, he was not really the romantic type”, you shrug, a sad smile on your lips.

Jisung doesn't like that, you always look confident and happy, he doesn't want to see you sad again.

“He is an idiot then”, he avoids your gaze, looking around while speaking, “If I had a girlfriend like you, I would move heavens and earth to make her happy”

You feel your heart skip a bit, your cheeks growing warmer and in a few seconds your whole face is burning. You can't believe Han Jisung is making you blush again, saying these words that are messing with your heartbeat.

“Should we go to the haunted house?” You ask awkwardly, trying to change the subject, pointing to the building at the end of the park. You try not looking at him, not sure if your cheeks are still red.

He hums, not really understanding why you look so flustered, he's sure you must hear this kind of thing all the time.

You two enter the house, looking around while walking into the dark. You were very confident in the beginning, you love horror movies, but jump scares are really not your cup of tea and that's the problem. The moment a doll(you assume) holding a knife with a ghost face mask pops out of nowhere you jump… into Jisung's arms. The way his arms immediately wrap around you in a protective position does something to your heart and honestly you feel hot all over.

You didn't even notice the little scares he got, or how he squeezed you every time some scary character showed up. The only thing you noticed was his unexpected strong arms embracing you the whole time until you left the haunted house.

Jisung didn't want to let you go. The moment he felt the cold breeze touching his skin, he knew he had to step back, you are not scared anymore. But he just doesn't want to. You look fragile, shy, endearing. Jisung shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking this, he thought he would be immune to your charms, but it turns out that he understands now why all those guys fawned over you.

He tries taking a step back, threatening to get away from you but you snuggle closer to him, a hand swinging fast to your shoulder so you could grip his hand in place.

“Can- can you keep holding me for a bit?” You ask awkwardly, not really wanting to look him in the eye.

You had no idea you missed being touched this much, you never noticed how cold Seunghoon’s touch was until you felt Jisung's warm hands on you. You're embarrassed for looking so fragile in front of him but not enough for you to let go, not at that moment.

“Yeah, sure”, he tells you, coming closer again and squeezing you against his chest. “Should we walk around for a bit?”

You nod, too lost in his scent to say anything.

Jisung felt strange for a moment. He's not used to letting his instincts take control, he's a very restrained guy. But he can't help but peek at your thighs when the skirt you're wearing rides up a bit, you're tiptoeing while trying to shoot the target with the water gun you have in your hands, like that would help you win.

“Do you really want that plushie?” He asks when you lose once more. “You could probably buy a better one with the money you're spending”, he points out and you pout.

“Where's the fun in that?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It's so much more exciting to win the prize”

Jisung finds you cute, you are just so different from all the rumors and how he thought you would be. Other than being someone who's high and mighty or arrogant, you're cute and funny.

Defeated, he sighs, paying for another round. This time he's the one trying.

It's difficult the first time. He never played this game so he has to get used to and understand how to win.

Jisung doesn't notice but you're not looking at the booth or to the target, you're looking at his face. He looks more handsome when he's focused, he has his lips pressed in a thin line and his grip on the water gun makes you shudder just thinking about how that grip would feel on you.

After a few tries, Jisung wins, asking you to choose what plushie you want.

“That one”, you point to the big quokka hanging in the wall. “It looks a bit like you”, you say when you get the plushie, lifting enough so you can compare it with Jisung.

“I'm cuter”, he pouts.

“Definitely”, you assure him, hugging your new plushie while Jisung’s ears grow hotter.

“Should we go to the ferris wheel?” He asks, looking at the time. It'll probably be your last ride since it's already late.

“Yes!” You jump excitedly, “I never had the chance before”, you say while you two walk in the direction of the big attraction.

“Not even when you were a child?” He asks, remembering you said that was the last time you went to an amusement park.

“My parents are not very fun to be around and my little brother was too young”, you say, shaking your head, “I was never very proficient in doing things by myself so I just didn't go”, you shrug.

Jisung feels that there's more to unpack into that topic, but he's not sure if you want to talk about it with him or right now. So he just slides his arm over your shoulder, surprising you by his bold move. You can feel your cheeks growing hot, are you blushing again?

When you hear the gears turning, excitement spreads all over your body but as soon as the cabin stops in the air, you're not so confident anymore.

“It's quite high, isn't it?” you say, looking down, feeling a little dizzy.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Jisung asks, panicked, seeing your face turning pale.

“No, of course not”, you shake your head frantically while shrinking in your seat, “I can't, I'm always at the top of the pyramid in our cheer stunts”, you tell him.

A sudden wave of air brushes over the cabin, making it shake slightly and you turn even more pale if that's even possible.

“You know it's different right?” He grabs you by the arm, pulling you closer to him. Jisung slides one of his hands on your waist, squeezing you close to him and with the other hand he cups your face, making you look at him. “Keep looking at me, you don't have to look down”

Jisung doesn't know why he feels this urge to protect you, of all the people he knows, you're probably the one he thinks needs the least protection. You keep staring at him, he is pretty, his lips are plump and inviting.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask when he licks his lips, huge doe eyes staring at him and waiting.

“Do you want me to?” He asks back, not really sure of what to do. Jisung is not certain, his heart is beating fast and his hands are sweating, you look so beautiful, so close to him.

So when you nod, he just loses control of every part of himself that was holding him back. He's sure after this, there's no going back, he's lost forever, but maybe he doesn't mind if it means it's you he's lost in.

His lips are soft, clumsily pressing against yours. You can tell he's unsure of how to proceed then why does his grip on you make you burn? He's squeezing your waist against his body like you're going to disappear if he doesn't hold you strongly and the hand he has cupping your cheeks, slowly slides to your hair, pulling it lightly, making you whimper.

In an instant his lips are not on yours anymore, he's trailing kisses down to your neck. You shiver, feeling his warm lips against your cold skin.

“Ah, Ji-Jisung”, you gasp when he bites your neck, sucking the area so deliciously it makes you bite your lips so you won't moan.

He hears your plea, kissing you once again and you notice you are the one that didn't know how to proceed. You've been squirming in his hands this whole time without touching him at all. You take a hand to his face, caressing his cheek and the other goes to his hip, pulling you even closer to him but before you can go further, the shake of the cabin going back down takes you out of your haze. You're in public, you had absolutely forgotten about that.

You stop the kiss, giving a peck on his lips before moving away. He looks disheveled, lips swollen and eyes searching for yours in an attempt to know exactly what you are thinking. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Now that he got a taste of something he should have remained oblivious to, he's not sure he'll be able to let go.

The ride home was awkward, to say the least. You are silent the whole time and Jisung is freaking out. He can't help but think he screwed up really badly. How the hell could he make you lose all interest with just a couple of kisses? Did he go too far by giving you a hickey? Maybe you don't like this kind of thing, you're a cheerleader after all, your image is important.

You on the other hand, have too many thoughts running through your mind, never did a man make you feel so desired with just a kiss. The way he embraced you so possessively was too much for you, Seunghoon never did anything like that. You were always the one searching for his touch, for some affection but it was never quite enough. His touches never really gave you what you wanted, you always thought it was weird, you thought maybe there was something wrong with you.

But how could Jisung make you feel so many things with a simple touch? A simple kiss? You're so lost in thoughts that you don't even notice when the car stops.

“We’re here”, Jisung says, not really looking at you.

You look at him, seeing him biting his bottom lip while squeezing the wheel.

“I had fun”, you tell him, shyly. His head snaps at you, a deep scowl on his face.

“You did?” He asks confused and you giggle, tilting your head.

“Yeah”, you bite your bottom lip, leaning over him without breaking eye contact. “I thought I made it clear by almost melting in your arms while you kissed me”, you tease, seeing his ears growing red.

“I thought maybe I did something wrong, you were quiet”, he looks at you waiting for some more reassurance.

“I'm sorry”, you cup his face, caressing his cheek, “it's been a long time since I felt the way you made me feel, I needed time to recover”, you tell him, pulling him in for a brief kiss.

“Wait, but what about-”

“That's what I'm telling you”, you chuckle, bitterly, “can you imagine feeling more in a night than you ever felt in a year with someone else? It really makes a girl think”

“Ah”, he nods, understanding what you're saying now. “Then, can I call you when I get home?” He asks eagerly, now that he knows that you did enjoy your time with him.

“I'd be mad if you didn't”, you give a peck on his lips, getting out of the car and walking to your front door, waving goodbye to him.

Walking into your empty house you come back to reality. For a moment, just a moment, while having fun with Jisung, you forgot how lonely you really are. It's always been like this, you're already used to it.

Your parents always wanted a boy, so it was disappointing for them when they had a girl. They tried for years to have a boy, getting more and more frustrated as time went by. You were five when they finally made it, their desired son was born and you were left aside.

It's not like they gave you any attention before, but after your brother was born, you were completely forgotten. The first time you went to an amusement park was when you were eight. It was your birthday and you begged them to take you there but in the end you couldn't really enjoy anything. Your brother was too little to play in anything and your parents didn't really want to play with you.

You feel a single tear run down your cheek but you shake your head, you shouldn't be doing that right now. You had fun with Jisung but that's that, you don't want another heartbreak the same as with Seunghoon.

You feel your phone buzzing, taking it out of your pocket to see Jisung's name lightening the screen and an involuntary smile grows on your lips, completely ignoring what you just thought.

“Hey, did you arrive safely?” You ask, walking up the stairs.

“Yeah”, he says, not sure why exactly he wanted to call you. He already said goodnight to you, did he want to hear your voice again? Why is he being so weird tonight?

“Okay, that's good”, you chuckle, putting the phone on speaker to start undressing.

Jisung sits in his bed, he knows you're probably tired but he doesn't want to hang up.

“What are you doing?” He asks, hearing the shuffle on the other side of the line.

“I'm changing”, you answer nonchalantly, not knowing how red his whole face turns the moment you finish saying that.

He doesn't say anything, making you look to the phone to check if he's still there.

“Want some pictures?” You ask playfully, making him choke on his own breath, coughing violently.

“No, I mean we- we just had our first date- I- I don't want you to think- it's too soon”, he rambles saying all that in half a second, making you laugh genuinely while you wander around your room.

You snap a picture of yourself, sending it to him and he freezes when he sees the notification. When he opens the text though, you're wearing a cute pajama with bees stamped on it, making him laugh too.

“You're cute”, he says and you stop in your tracks.

“It's been years since someone last called me cute”, you pout, sliding under your covers.

Jisung guessed that much, your type of beauty is not on the cute side. You have sharp features, most people could say you're on the sexy side and he would too, before tonight. Now, under the cover of a popular hot girl, he found a girl who's hot and popular but can be cute and funny too.

“Goodnight, y/n”, he says, throwing himself back in the bed.

“Goodnight”, you say, feeling your eyes heavy after hearing his goodbye.

Part 2

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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