#I can’t stop staring at those earrings they’re so perfect | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunny584 · 9 months ago

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OBSESSED: ITADORI

A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋

S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.

C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+

“ITADORI!”

Oh for fucks sake.

Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.

“Coach?”

“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”

His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.

Fact.

But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.

“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”

Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.

Whatever.

What’s a few more seconds, right?

You are just so…hot.

In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.

A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.

His knees.

He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”

“Yes sir!” Times up.

“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”

The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.

“She’s perfect.”

“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.

“So?”

“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”

Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.

His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.

Not to mention quarterback.

“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”

Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.

But you do.

You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.

Why else would you wear those yoga pants?

They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.

Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.

Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.

“Hello? Yuji?”

Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.

“Y-yeah? Hi.”

Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.

Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.

And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.

You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.

Light.

Breathy.

Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.

“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”

“Distracted?” His voice cracks.

“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”

But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.

Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.

Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—

“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”

You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.

A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.

“H-huh?”

“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”

Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.

“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.

Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.

Did you know?

That you snapped his self-control in half?

And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?

Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?

Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.

His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.

Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.

Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?

So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.

Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.

Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?

You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’

“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.

Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.

“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.

Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.

He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.

All because you complimented his eyes?!

Who the hell is he?

“Sukuna, give it a rest.”

Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.

“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“

“I’m serious. Quit it.”

Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.

“Quit what, brat?”

“Quit…making me think..things like that.”

Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.

“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”

Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.

Yuji has never been a pervert.

Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.

He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?

Wrong.

Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.

And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.

Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.

One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.

His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.

“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.

His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.

A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.

Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.

The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.

Shit.

He’s in trouble.

Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.

But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.

After one measly compliment.

How will he act if you bend over in front of him?

Or lean over a little too far?

God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?

Then a lightbulb goes off.

Yuji has the perfect solution.

He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.

“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.

He draws in a steadying breath.

“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”

“….YOU WHAT?!?!”

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hyunsvngs · 11 months ago

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hyunsvngbinimas !

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

warnings: reader is a cat hybrid, perv!minho, heats, slick, kind of omegaverse but not, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, depictions of porn

Nothing is going right.

Minho’s apartment smells of those cliche candles that just reek of Christmas - spiced cinnamon apple strudel, or something like it. He’s burnt his cookies. His hair is covered in white sugary flakes that he’d tried to make snow for his gingerbread house with, and they’re currently melting into his hair from how stressed out he’s getting. Felix will be here any second. He’s freaking out. Felix always judges his baking.

He sighs, scraping the burnt remnants of his baking endeavours into the bin. Felix will have to be happy with just the gingerbread house. Anyway, Minho got him an amazing present for Christmas - a new headset for his gaming setup that had little holes for his white fluffy cat ears to peek through.

Being best friends with a hybrid wasn’t easy for Minho. Unfortunately, Minho had some weird affinity for cat girls and boys alike, and his computer was decked out with mountains of hybrid heat porn that would make even Felix’s weird friend Jisung stutter. Minho had gotten drunk one night and opened up to Felix about it, and had received an overly wet kiss on a cheek and a sweet chirp of “I’ll fuck you whenever, hyung”. Minho still blushes to the tips of his ears when he remembers it.

Felix’s hybrid status isn’t the only reason he’s reserved as Minho’s lifelong best friend. Felix is devious, weird, and a little bit evil just like Minho - he’s also always late, which really means a lot to Minho when he’s stressing out like this.

True to his nature, there’s a loud knock on the door approximately fifteen minutes after the meeting time after Minho had just put the baking tray of newer, more promising cookies into the oven. Minho throws his oven gloves to the side and then he’s charging over to the door to swing it open, ready to give Felix a fake lecture about being late to their designated day for exchanging presents.

Only, when the door opens, Felix isn’t alone. He’s standing on Minho’s doorstep with a wild smile on his face, a beanie pulled over his ears and his white tail swishing in excitement. Next to him is you.

And you’re, well, you. You’re a cat hybrid, too, sans-beanie and baring your orange ears for the world to see. You have a matching smile on your face, and Minho can’t help but fight his own smile back. It’s that contagious. Your fluffy winter dress is swaying around your mid-thigh, and when you turn to stop your suitcase from falling in the snow, your tail curls in annoyance.

Wait. You have a suitcase.

“Yongbok-ah,” Minho starts, his apron covered in flour. His apron is covered in flour. He’s a mess, and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen is standing on his doorstep with a cute little dress on. He wonders if you’d let him flip it up and stretch your pussy open with his thick- no. He clears his throat, repeats Felix’s Korean name once again. “Yongbok-ah. What is this?”

“Your new roommate!” Felix beams, his smile stretching from ear-to-ear. Minho contemplates how he can kill him. “She was looking for somewhere to stay. Her landlord just kicked her out over Christmas, hyung, isn’t that so sad? Anyway, I remembered you saying you wouldn’t mind someone moving in to help with rent, so-”

“I work!” You blurt, cheeks sufficiently rosy pink and your bottom lip looking so biteable. Minho mentally chastises himself. He needs to behave. “I can pay rent, and Felix said you’d like me.”

Oh, he did, did he? Minho manages to drag his eyes away from you to stare menacingly at Felix, who only nods in agreement and smiles. Minho sighs, eyes flickering behind him. How quick can he do a deep clean of the house so that you think he’s perfect and amazing and maybe want to be with him? “I do have a spare bedroom.”

“Great!” Felix chirps. His eyes flicker between you and Minho. You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, tail swishing around your back excitedly. It’s orange with faint stripes in it, and Minho’s trying not to get hard in his pants over the way you’re grinning at him. Felix claps his hands together, gloved and muffled. “So, I’ve got to go now. Bye, hyung!”

“Y-Yongbok,” Minho blurts. Did he really just stutter? “What about your present?”

“Oh, give it to me another day,” Yongbok waves him off, already turning down the drive.

Minho scoffs. “What about my present, you little-”

Yongbok turns around. “She is your present, hyung. Silly.”

Minho reverts his eyes to you. He can feel how he’s widening them in shock, his bottom lip quivering. He wants to say something. He wants to talk to you, but how can he? You’re looking at him so expectantly and your dress has damn pom poms on it. He’s going to die. “Uh. D’ya wanna come in? I have cookies in the oven.”

“Great!” You say, and Minho’s convinced your voice is exactly how angels sound. You shimmy past him with your suitcase and leave it in the doorway, sashaying into the living room as if you’ve been there a million times. He watches you sprawl on the sofa in awe, stretching languidly. If he squints, he might be able to see the panties you’ve got on underneath your dress. “I love cookies.”

“Uh, yeah,” Minho says intelligently, kicking the door shut. He’s quick to follow you despite still being in his apron and having white specks in his dark hair. He tries to sit down casually on the sofa, and you gravitate towards his body heat, curling up beside him. “Have you had a roommate before?”

“A roommate?” You perk up, looking at him. Minho thinks he’s going to die. He’s definitely hard now, and he’s glad the apron is loose enough to cover it. You blink, and then you nod. “I guess so. In college, I stayed with a bunny girl. She was super sweet.”

A bunny girl? You two… lived together? Minho’s heart has stopped beating, officially. Maybe you’re still close friends. Maybe you can bring her over, when one or both of you are in your heats, and maybe you’ll let him watch if you-

Oh, Minho’s so fucked.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re so fucked.

When Felix said his friend Minho had mentioned wanting a roommate, you hadn’t expected him to be so sexy. Even standing on his doorstep with an apron covered in flour and a timid expression on his face, he was sexy. He’d shown you to the spare bedroom, nice as pie, and had waited while you got settled in to comfier clothes before getting on the couch with him. You couldn’t stop your tail from swishing when he fed you a cookie, warm from the oven, and you’d been looking at him with round, owlish eyes. He has to know. You’re wondering how much you can put down to kitty tendencies just to get closer to him.

“Can we cuddle?” You chirp, and Minho turns to you. He blinks, lips parted. His eyes are so dark, so round. “You know, kitty tendencies. I like the warmth. If it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay-”

“No,” He shakes his head, patting his lap. “C’mere, kitty- sorry, God, can I call you that? Is that okay?”

You giggle, curling up in his lap. Your tail curls around his arm comfortably, and Minho chokes back a noise. You wonder if he’s alright. “Kitty is fine. I like it.”

Minho lets out a stuttered breath. “O-Okay, so- how do you want to do this? I can cook for us, if you wanna clean?” He shakes his head. You feel his body tense up from beneath you. His thighs are so broad and muscled you can’t help but nuzzle your nose into one. You’re purring before you even realise you are. “Actually, no. Don’t clean.”

“I can clean!” You insist, but he’s already protesting again.

“No, kitty. Please don’t. Please don’t clean.”

Why not? You screw your face up in a pout, but you can’t help but feel the most comfortable you’d ever felt. It feels domestic, almost, the way you’re curled up on his lap and he’s just letting you. He’s warm. He’s warm and toned, and you flip over to look up at him. God, he’s pretty - sharp nose, pouty lips, the cutest bunny teeth that would have you swearing he had to be a hybrid too if you hadn’t seen his human ears. You want him.

Minho looks down at you then, a smile playing on his lips. “Why are you staring at me, kitty cat?”

You blush, shaking your head. “No reason. Hey, do you wanna watch a movie? I’m not moving though.”

“Of course,” Minho chuckles, his shoulders shaking. You watch as he reaches over you to grab the remote, flicking through channels until he finds a decent Christmas one. He looks at you, almost hesitant with his spare hand raised above your hair. “I- Felix likes when I scratch his ears. Do you- would you-”

“Yes, please,” You nod eagerly, and he snickers at your response. His hand threads into your hair, fingertips rubbing absentmindedly at the start of your orange ears, and you purr. It makes him tense up again.

When you finally turn over to pay attention to the movie, it’s some stupid film about two people finding love at Christmas. You can’t help but hope you have a similar experience, and you definitely wouldn’t be disappointed if it happened with the man who’s currently stroking over your ears and humming a soft tune. It feels too easy with him, too natural, but you’re not one to complain.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re panicking. You’ve been living with Minho for a week now, and between him doing absolutely everything around the house and refusing to let you pay rent - for what reason you’re unsure - you’re determined to get him a good gift for Christmas. Christmas is only in a few days, and you just can’t find anything perfect scrolling through your laptop. You have goosebumps on your arms from how cold you are, but you’re so focused you can’t put an extra layer on.

You’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the screen freezes, turns blue, and crashes. What? You bang on the keyboard with clenched fists, ears flattening in annoyance. What’s going on? Has it… broken? No way. No way would this happen to you, not during the most important time of your life. You had to get Minho a good gift.

He’s sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone when you perk your head around the doorway - or perk your tail around, since that’s the first thing Minho sees. He grins, turning to you. God, his grin makes your stomach flutter.

“What’s up, kitty cat?” He muses, and you grimace.

“I- I was doing… something on my laptop, and I think it’s broken,” You say, voice quiet. Despite getting so close to Minho in the week you’ve been there, including even taking naps together on the sofa, you still can’t push past your silly little crush on him. Especially not when he scratches under your chin and feeds you cookies. “Nothing weird. I just- could I use yours? Just for an hour or two, and then you can have it back, and-”

“Of course you can,” Minho cuts you off. You try not to stare at his biceps as he leans over to grab his laptop, white t-shirt clenching tight around his muscles. You suppress a whimper as he hands it to you, and then you’re scurrying back to your room with a delighted squeal.

The sheets are soft on your legs as you make yourself comfortable again, and then you open the laptop. It has no password, which is just so Minho, and is covered in cat stickers. He must really like cats. The thought makes your tail curl in delight, and you try to calm your excitement as the laptop boots up.

Immediately, you take notice of the fact that his laptop is definitely a newer, more expensive model than yours. It makes you shy, embarrassed that you’re not paying rent to live in his house and still can’t even get a good laptop, but then you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. He has around ten files, labelled nothing other than numbers 1-10, and they’re neatly organised in a row across the screen.

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you’re clicking on the first one. You gasp, hand covering your mouth. You’re snooping. Maybe… maybe the files will help you learn what stuff he’s into, what kind of things he’d love for Christmas? Yeah. That’s why you’re looking. Definitely no other reason.

The first file has ten files inside it, all video files that are just begging for you to double click on. Could you watch them? Could you be nosy like this? Does that make you an awful person? You realise that yeah, you must be an awful person because you’re going to watch them. You’re going to watch every single one just to find out what they could be.

You don’t expect to be met with a cat hybrid being bent over a desk. She’s a girl, noted from the way the man’s speaking to her, and her slick is gushing around his cock. Your eyes widen, comically round, yet you can’t tear them away. Her tail curls around his waist, keeping him close, and her eyes roll back into her head. The camera is positioned to the side but it captures every single expression she’s making.

Is this what Minho’s into? Is he… into you? Would he fuck you like this, would he talk to you like this?

You’re clicking on the second video before you can even think of it. This one is recorded by the male, camera positioned to capture the cat girl’s tits as they sway and bounce enticingly. You want Minho to record you while you ride him like this. You wipe sweat off of your brow. She’s pretty, with blushing cheeks and ears flattened to her head as she moans in ecstasy. His pubic hair is drenched with her slick. You whimper. You want it. You want it with Minho.

He must jerk off to these, you decide, clicking on the third video. This one’s a little different - the girl is on her knees, slobbering and spitting all over a rather large cock. Is Minho that big? It’d be perfect to breed you, he could hit your cervix like that. You wipe drool off of your bottom lip. It’s suddenly very, very warm, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Imagining Minho’s cock is sending your senses into haywire, your whole body feeling like it’s been ignited with fire and electricity and-

“Kitty,” A voice from your door. You perk up. You’d left it open, just slightly ajar, and Minho is standing there with wide doe eyes. “Oh, no. You’ve seen them. I’m so sorry, if you want to move out I understand and I- kitty?”

You’re panting. Your eyes are glassy, covered in unshed tears, and your t-shirt suddenly feels like it’s stuck to you. Weren’t you just cold? You can’t remember. Your senses are full of Minho, Minho, Minho, and you want him to fuck you under the Christmas tree or bend you over the sofa or his desk or just take you on the floor, you aren’t picky.

“Minho,” You finally speak, chest heaving. “Minho, Minho, you- you- you like these? You- Minho, please, do you like these videos?”

He’s slow walking over to your bed, almost anxious to approach you. He sighs when he reaches the foot of the mattress, climbing onto it to sit cross-legged. He twiddles his thumbs. “Yeah. It turns me on. Yongbok- Felix said I have a kink for it. I’m sorry.”

“S-Sorry?” It’s so warm. It’s so warm. “Minho, Minho, I- I’m really warm. Are you warm? It’s really warm in my room, isn’t it?”

Minho’s eyebrows furrow. He reaches over, placing the back of his hand to your forehead, and you whine. Loudly. Just him touching your forehead with the back of his hand is enough to make your pussy drool slick into your sleep shorts, and you can’t even begin to question why you’re suddenly so wet, until Minho speaks. “Oh, kitty,” He coos, his hand moving up to scratch your ear. You hum, leaning into the touch. Your vision is blurry, but you can see him perfectly. “Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry. I think you’re going into heat, kitty. I’ll call Yongbok, and-”

“No,” You wail, surging forward. The laptop slides off the side of the bed with a loud clatter, and Minho doesn’t even blink, staring owlishly at you as you wrap your arms around his middle. You’re in heat. You can tell when his body hits yours, your pussy gushing and making even more of a mess just from his body, despite being clothed. “No. God, please, Minho, don’t leave. It’s you, I want you, I was thinking about you and me, and the videos, and-”

“You want me?” Minho’s voice is soft, and he swipes a thumb over your cheekbone. Your head is positioned on his chest, and you can smell him, earthy and woodsy and manly. He sighs, and then he’s speaking again. “I want you.”

“Please. Please, please, please, please, I need you, I need to see it, I need to feel you,” You’re babbling, sweat dripping down your temple, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air. “I- Minho, is- do you want to? Please.”

“You need to see it?” He chuckles, shoulders shaking. His eyes form crescent moons and you can’t even admire how cute he is through your haze of lust. “What’s it, kitty cat? My dick?” You nod eagerly, and Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “I want to kiss you first. Let me do it right, yeah? Let me do it how I want to. I need to treat you right.”

You’re still shocked when his lips press into yours, pouty and plush. He licks into your mouth and you have to avoid nipping at his bottom lip, until he does it to you and you deem it fair game. You’re devouring him then, nibbling on his lip and sucking on his tongue and encompassing your arms around his neck. He lets you push him into the mattress, lets you run your hands through his hair and pull away to nip at his neck teasingly.

“Kitty likes to bite, huh?” He huffs, and you nod, nipping him again for his cheek. Your tail swishes behind you, excited and playful, and you can feel how hard he is against your leg. “Better not bite like that when you suck my cock.”

You pull away from his neck in alarm, the milky skin littered in teeth marks and red bruises. “I can suck it? You’ll let me? Oh, please-”

His hand envelops in your hair, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging hard. “Maybe later. I can feel how that pussy is drooling on me. You need it badly, huh? Need me badly.”

“Yes! Yes, yeah, since I saw you, I- I wanted you to fuck me through my heat so bad, pin me to the bed and just make me take it, and when I saw the videos I- Minho, I thought I was gonna die, and-”

Minho flips you over onto the mattress, your front planted against the bed. You let out a satisfied purr when he strokes your tail with one hand, and then he’s hooking his thumbs into your sleep shorts and yanking them down your legs. You feel the cold air hit your pussy and you moan, loud and high pitched, spreading your thighs to arch your back and present your pussy to him.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Minho coos, his thumb swiping over your hole. Your hole clenches with the lack of fullness, oozing more slick over his digit, and he groans. “Messy little pussy. God, do you want me inside you that bad? Little minx.”

“Please, please. Minho, Minho, will you fuck me? Look’it,” You whine, spreading your legs further. “Look at how wet I am. I need you, need you. M-master, please.”

Minho hisses through his teeth, and then his cockhead is pressing between your folds. When did he get naked? “You dirty little thing,” He whispers, his voice low. “Take master’s cock, then. You wanted to see it, how’s about feeling it?”

He sinks into you, all of his shaft in one go. It doesn’t hurt, only stretches you beyond pleasure, and your fingernails rip into the sheets with one loud moan. It feels insane, raw and veiny and pressing against your walls as if he was made for you. You let him grip your hips and arch you further, your tail wrapping around his waist to keep him close to you. It’s like the first video you saw, and the realisation has you whimpering into the sheets.

“God, you don’t know how long I thought about you like this,” Minho grunts, and then he’s thrusting. His pace is punishing immediately, your slick gushing and squelching around his cock messily and you can only hope his pubes are drenched in it. You want him to cum inside you, breed you, fill you up with kittens and mark you as his so that everyone knows. “Pliant, wet and so desperate for me.”

“Love it,” You slur, eyes rolling back into your head. You don’t realise you’re bouncing back on his thrusts, ass hitting the bottom of his tummy with every movement. He’s bent fully over your body, chest against your back and his lips whispering filth into your ear. “Love your cock, master, ‘s so big, I feel so full, I- hnnfg, master, master, will you breed me? Will you cum inside me?”

“Oh, kitty cat,” He moans, passionate, and when you try to look at him his eyes are rolling back into his head. His bunny teeth bite his bottom lip, almost drawing blood. His cockhead fucks against your cervix with every thrust, primal and intense. He wraps his arms around your front, hands clutching onto your shoulders to pull you back into him. “I’ll breed you, jagi. I’ll fuck you full until it has to take, yeah?”

You can’t think straight. Your pussy clenches around Minho’s cock almost painfully and it only makes him feel bigger, pulsing and throbbing inside of you. You need his cum. You need to cum - your clit throbs painfully with it. “Oh, oh, I need’a- master, master, I need to cum, I need to cum, please, hurts,” You huff, squirming beneath him. He reaches from your shoulder to pin your hips down into the bed, ensuring that you can’t thrash or wriggle anymore and he has full leverage to fuck you the way you need it. “It hurts! Ah, it hurts, I can’t, I can’t, I need to cum, I need to-”

“What’s stopping you?” He questions, hips starting to fuck you in a sinuous grind instead. The change in pace has your toes curling, hands scrabbling to find a better grip on the sheets as he lets you feel every inch and every vein of his length. “C’mon. Cum around my cock, and I’ll give you my cum, breed you full of kittens. Give it to me, jagi, c’mon, let me feel it.”

With a wail and a sharp inhale of breath, you’re cumming quicker than you ever have with any partner or even your own hand. Your pussy pulsates and gushes around him, and he grunts through your orgasm, trying with all of his might to fuck you through it. You try to thrash, to grind back on him through it, but he has you pinned down with a vice grip that only proves to make you cum even harder.

Minho’s hips press tightly against yours, and with a deep sigh, you feel his cum flood inside of you. You’re purring with the sensation of it, warm and thick and reaching your cervix with every messy pulsation of his load. You hope it takes, deep down inside you - you hope you’re swollen with it, that everyone knows he’s yours and you’re his.

With the knowledge that you’re full of cum, your heat is slightly sated, and you blink through the fog while Minho sidles up next to you. When did he pull out? You huff and cuddle into his chest, and he reaches up instinctively to scratch over your ears.

“Good?” He questions, voice timid. You blink owlishly.

“Good?!” You shriek, lifting your head up to stare at him. “I’m enlisting you for the rest of my heat, and then every day after that. You’re mine now.”

Minho chuckles. “I think that’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever been given.”

“Well, I was actually looking for something to get you when my laptop broke,” You say shyly, and Minho turns to look at you with a wide smile on his face. “It’s embarrassing! Just have me instead.”

“I think I’m okay with that,” He yawns, eyes fluttering shut. “Nap. You’re gonna need to be fucked again soon.”

You wondered how he knew, then you remembered the videos on his computer. “That’s true. Merry early Christmas, Minho.”

“Merry early Christmas, kitty cat.”

#hyunsvngbinimas!#juno's fics ♡#lee minho smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #lee minho x reader #lee minho fanfiction

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cloudcountry · 4 months ago

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Hello! If it's not too much trouble, can I ask for some headcanons for Deuce, Jack, Jamil, and Azul overhearing the reader gushing about them to a friend? It's not like they meant to eavesdrop, they just happened to be passing and they heard a snippet of all the nice things the reader said about them

SUMMARY: they eavesdrop on you while you gush about them!

COMMENTS: writing for jamil is so hard...........

Deuce left to go get some snacks for you and Ace, since he was used to carrying all of the bags anyways. He didn’t expect to come back to hearing you gush about him to a disgruntled Ace, going on and on about how amazing you thought he was.

“Prefect pleaseee, spare me. I know you’re down bad.” Ace groans, and Deuce stands outside the door just a little bit longer even though he knows it's bad to eavesdrop.

“What do you mean!? Have you seen him!? I am the perfect, acceptable amount of interested, thank you very much!” you proclaim dramatically, “He’s just so hard working, and so kind, and even though he’s so tough he’s also really gentle...have you seen him make eggs? I wish I was those eggs!”

Deuce’s face feels like it’s burning. He steps into the room, unable to listen to your rambling anymore. You and Ace stop talking and turn to look at him, only for Ace to burst with laughter at his flaming red face.

Jack would love to say that he’s unfazed. He’d also love to grab his tail and stop it from wagging so damn much, but unfortunately that is not how his tail works. It's a bit odd that you decided to tell this to Ruggie of all people, and honestly Jack thinks you should have gone to literally anyone else.

He respects his upperclassmen of course, but he knows Ruggie is going to tease both of you relentlessly. He can already hear it now, the high pitched, iconic Ruggie laugh ringing in his ears

Regardless...his face is far warmer than it usually is. Maybe he likes being praised...just a little bit...

If Azul is being honest, he was just eavesdropping to gain insight into your struggles. Now he’s stuck sitting a table away from you, hiding his face with a textbook because he definitely looks at least a little bit panicked and he has a reputation to uphold.

You're babbling on and on to your Heartslabyul friends about how lovely you think Azul is, despite their interjections of “Prefect that is literally the guy who screwed us over” and “Prefect...you could do so much better for yourself, you know that?”

He covers his surprised snort with a soft cough when you shoot back with a “Well you two were the ones silly enough to sign his deal. His business is still running for a reason.”

Really, you’re something else.

Jamil isn’t used to praise that it’s for his food and isn’t from Kalim. Unfortunately enough, it’s him who you’re talking to when he walks into Scarabia’s lounge.

He freezes in place when he hears his name, about to open his mouth and chastise you two for talking about someone when they’re not there, but he hears just what you have to say and he’s so glad he didn’t get the chance to say anything.

Staring at you and Kalim’s backs, he has to admit he’s more than a little flustered and more than a little annoyed that he can’t see your face or the smile you’re so obviously wearing when you talk about how beautiful and clever Jamil is.

A foreign emotion rears its head inside him and a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—he’ll just get you to spill your guts later.

-> deuce's darlings . . . @vivigoesinsane @deucespadez @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> azul's business partners . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade fluff #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl fluff #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto fluff #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper fluff #gn reader

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therealslimshakespeare · 1 month ago

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|| Lizards

Benny x Lu full blurb

Without thinking, because she is twenty four now and has been to the beach and has swam with friends and has lived a life, Lu shucks her dress, her shoes, her slip and dives into the lake, nylon undergarments ruined and only just sufficient to be considered a covering. It’s fine, it’s normal, she comes up to the surface and she knows, somewhere far back in her mind she knows, her chest and its scar is visible but it doesn’t matter. The sun is bright, the water is reflecting so strongly she has to squint and through it all Benny is tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing between puffs of exertion at treading water. He is laughing at having jumped in, at the fact she went for it, too. It doesn’t matter that her body is on display, as a gruesome curiosity or an incitement to desire.

She is swimming with Benny and it’s all just fine.

It makes the moment so utterly enjoyable Lu feels like all her longing to be out here, to be surrounded by this big vast world— it’s been close to right, very near what she’s needed, it’s just made a little better with him and that’s unfortunate as he lives in Chicago. Benny shouldn’t be in the city, he should be in a sparkling lake with minnows assaulting his feet and diamonds of water caught in his lashes.

They’re laughing at each other, so much so they’re close to drowning, and they don’t have to say why. It’s perfect.

She could count each of his lashes as she swims around him, so close and so circular she’s half minnow herself, Benny’s eyes don’t leave her face and he’s stopped laughing enough to look mildly wary at her antics. She’d like to count his lashes, she realizes, she never really thought of how many there were, distracted perhaps, by his beard at other times.

Back when he had a beard: she knew that about him. Back when she stuffed cardboard into her brassieres: he knew that about her.

She keeps circling him and can’t make any progress on counting his lashes because he begins to laugh again, but it’s short and aggravated and she waits for him to explain it, she knows he will.

“What’re you, half mermaid?” there’s quashed competition in his voice, he’s betrayed at her leaving off their giggle fit to actually swim.

“You sure aren’t.” she laughs back, his neck is almost fully in the water, “Those big strong shoulders can’t hold you up? Am I going to have to tow you to the rock?”

Benny takes the teasing well, his face clears if anything, quick to laugh at himself. “You’ve got an advantage, you come here a lot. I’ve been rottin’ in the city.”

Lu gives an approving nod at his conclusion, it aligns with her own. “Yes, so you’ve gotta fix that. You should come out here more often.”

He doesn’t need to come here. Here with her.

There’s all manner of woods and water and nature just outside his stupid city but that’s not an option somehow, not with the way he’s here with her when he could be in the woods with Jack or out on a boat with Maureen. He chose here, instead.

“Yeah, I should.” Benny just agrees because they don’t have to say all that, say that it feels right and different. It just is for now and they can let it be.

She watches him lay back in the water, floating along with the gentle ripple and his ears are below the water and his eyes are on the big blue sky above them and Lu thinks that’s a perfect idea so she floats back too, staring at the sky they once knew so well, wondering if he misses it like she does- in a way that’s half agony of separation and absolute terror of ever being made to reunite with it.

Bucky doesn’t get that; he’s still flying.

Ida and Gale would still be if their governments weren’t so shit to them.

Jack never wanted to but he’d done it for the country, for his people, because it was right. From how often Benny and Jack see each other, like they’re dosing each other up by sheer proximity, Lu guesses they shared that singular motivation.

She turns her head, one ear clogged and filled with water, her other cheek so far into the lake it’s almost lapping up her one nostril; but she can see Benny floating near her, he has his eyes closed.

He gets it, she thinks, heart so full she could cry from happiness for once.

“-don’t you want to fall asleep like this?” she wants to ask him, says it aloud only because she knows his ears are under the water, his face doesn’t even twitch, his eyelids are smooth without a crease of a squint or a frown around them, his nose is ever so gently upturned and Lu wants to place her hand under his head, keep him like this forever, let him enjoy it like she does, “You could, I’d keep you up, make sure you don’t drown.”

When Benny turns his face to her she blushes hot even in the freshwater lake, he looks like he’s caught her at something she shouldn’t be doing, a chiding look of kindness but it reminds her she shouldn’t be treading water and staring at his face like she loves him. If only he could see himself. He’d understand it then. Anyone would.

It’s Benny. And it’s perfect and before he pulls his head up fully he lets himself sink a little and does a slow lazy flip in the water and she feels him tickle her foot on the way back up.

It’s much the same laying on the toasty flat limestone rocks on the lakeshore. Benny and her, burning their backs on the rock, tender bellies getting scorched by late afternoon sun, underwear drying out as crispy as the grass. He’s got his eyes closed again, lashes fanned out on freckling cheeks. And Lu is watching him once more and thinking how much she’d like to be a couple of lazy lizards with Benny.

She snickers at the thought.

“What’s that?” he hums.

Lu shakes her head, disbelieving that she’s about to embarrass herself like this but at least he still has his eyes closed, “I was thinking that we’re a pair of lizards.” And that she’d like to keep being a lizard with him and have a lizard family.

Benny doesn’t laugh at her, his nose crinkles in a mildly disgusted way but he looks like he’s gotta agree despite it all, she feels so fuzzy by that. “I think my back is gonna stay on the rock when I sit up.”

The clasps of her bra are digging into her spine but, otherwise it’s burning and fabulous and she wants to stay forever. The look on his face, lazily tilted towards hers on the rock with his eyes half masted and open, agrees so eloquently Lu wants to— she doesn’t know. So she settles with reaching out and resting her hand on the browned meat of his pretty shoulder. Benny’s eyes droop further and they chide her ever so gently for the fire it ignites in them both all at once, and Lu would love to be two lizards and stay here forever.

#those who can #Benny x Lu #blurb #Benny Demarco #masters of the air #mota #tallulah smith

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juuuulez · 1 month ago

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🔥 | kinktober #8: hate fuck + semi-public sex, steve harrington.

oh this was just 😍😍😍 gotta be my fav piece of this month so far……lots of sub steve 😍

-> prompt/kinktober masterlist <-

you’ve never heard steve so pathetic than now, where you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

quite literally, too.

the storage closet in family video is suffocating, especially combined with your shared heat, those stuttered gasps and pants. one wrong move and a shelf will rattle, a broom could fall, so you’d been very firm when instructing steve to stay still.

sans his hips, of course, which pathetically rut into your hand, his bulge aching for any proper stimulation: but this would have to do for now. you can practically feel the outline of his dick in those tight jeans, your palm unrelenting, the heel of it pressing firmly into his crotch.

his face finds your neck, trying to hide. you let him, at least until steve’s teeth brush against your skin, his tongue wet and hot. it feels good. but that’s not the point, it isn’t about what feels good.

“stop. teeth away,” you grunt, using your spare hand to grip his jaw, pulling his face up and keeping it firm against the wall. “what’re you, a fuckin’ dog?”

it makes his face flush red, barely noticeable in the low light. he doesn’t have any sort of quip, either, which makes you grin, grinding your hand firmer into his clothed cock. it has steve breathing heavier, his eyes lidded.

to pacify the noise, you slip your fingers into his mouth, his teeth scraping against delicate skin. but you know he’d never bite down. steve isn’t that much of a brat.

there are shadowy footsteps outside the room, only just visible through the crack under the door. you hold your breath, but thankfully they pass, and you’re sure to lower your voice a few octaves.

“can’t keep it in your pants,” you mutter, staring right into his eyes. they’re blown wide with arousal, so you continue, knowing he’s into this. “creeping out every customer, at this point. why’ve you gotta be such a slut, huh?”

steve’s hand reaches out, clasping tightly at your wrist, holding you in place. it makes satisfaction burn in your chest, knowing that he’s getting off on this, nearing his peak and all you had to do was call him a few names.

not that he can really say that, not with your fingers in his mouth, pressing down against his tongue. it causes spit to dribble past his plush lips, soaking his chin, your wrist. so perfect.

you relent, pressing your own lips to his cheek, voice so dangerously close to his ear. “c’mon, stevie. if you’re gonna be a slut, gotta at least do it right, hm? cum for me, hurry up. don’t wanna get caught.”

and it works, for steve’s eyes practically roll back in his head, working himself down against your open palm. his cock twitches under you, spilling into his underwear, likely making it all sticky and wet for the rest of the shift. something about that is appealing to you.

you continue to apply pressure until he squirms, making a voice of protest that’s muffled by your fingers, to which you finally pull your hand away. it’s slick with saliva that drips down your wrist and forearm. pretty gross.

steve’s head drops down onto your shoulder again, a long breath leaving his body. he feels lax against you, causing you to grunt slightly under his weight, carding your hand (the clean one) through his hair.

“c’mon, lover boy. too heavy.” you mumble, pressing a much kinder kiss to the side of his face.

it elicits a grumble from steve, who’s still trying to regain his bearings. “that felt so good.” he sighs, and the sound is almost blissful, which makes you smile.

“i know,” you whisper, pulling his face up to smatter the side in kisses. “such a freak, harrington. now let’s get outta here before robin finds out. she’ll kill us.”

and steve relents, his hand snaking into your own, shuffling out of the closet close behind. you suppress a grin: he gets clingy after sex. well, not really sex, but whatever that was.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader

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ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

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The Start Of Something New (Bruce BannerxReader)

Summary: Meeting you sparks something new for Bruce AND Hulk.

Words: 5,852 Warnings: Sex on the first date, PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Hulk is a flirt, Only sex with Bruce tho.

When Tony had handed over the username and password to a newly made dating profile, Bruce had been very confused, and honestly, a tad reluctant.

However, after being hounded by his best friend to just give it a try, he gave in. The first few swipes had gone horribly. Most women unmatched with him after the first few messages. Or worse, they knew he was in the Avengers and had some sort of weird fetish about it. That is until he matched with you. Sweet, funny, beautiful, hard-working you.

You were like a meteor that knocked him out of orbit.

Something different than anything he had experienced with other partners. Messaging back and forth in the app had quickly turned into an exchange of numbers. Texting with you had been easier because it gave Bruce time to analyze his responses, but hearing your laugh while talking on the phone? God, he was certain there was no better sound. You were so open and honest that communicating came naturally. Which wasn’t something he was used to after his failed relationship with Natasha. He pushes those thoughts from his mind and instead focuses on nervously pacing outside of the Aquarium. After a month of good morning texts and late-night phone calls—today is the day. The day the two of you would finally meet in person and go on your first real date. You two had shared coffee over Facetime a few times, but to Bruce those weren’t dates. This would decide if you’d want to continue communicating. And though you made him feel at ease whenever the two of you spoke, the thought of fucking it all up weighs heavily on him. Bruce checks his watch for the fifth time before catching sight of his reflection in the glass exterior of the building. He fixes his hair while giving himself a pep talk. “Come on, Bruce. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it, just be yourself.” Your Uber pulls up just as he finishes his words of affirmation. He quickly straightens his back and turns to see you just as you step out of the car. You’re wearing the prettiest little sundress that sways softly in the summer breeze. He gulps. You look perfect. Jogging over to you, he holds out his hand to help you up onto the curb. “Hey!” He closes the car door behind you with a nervous smile, “T-thanks for coming. You look amazing.”

You can tell that Bruce is nervous and it warms your heart. Little does he know that you feel similar. Not only is he a brilliant scientist, but he has saved the world multiple times…what right do you have to spend time with him? You try not to let your insecurities show and squeeze his hand, not only as a comfort to him, but for you as well. “Aw Bruce, thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say.” You let yourself size him up before quirking your head to the side. “You look rather handsome.” His cheeks flush, though he tries to hide it by talking about where he’s chosen to take you for your date.

“I was glad to hear that you enjoy the aquarium.” He keeps your hand in his as he steers you towards the entrance. “I thought it would be the perfect place to bring a so-fish-ticated woman like yourself.” Bruce laughs at his own dad joke before rubbing his face in embarrassment. Tony had told him to keep the dumb jokes at a minimum. But then his ears perk up at the sound of you giggling and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Just like the first time he heard you laugh over the phone, he’s instantly put at ease, “Thank you for not clam-ming up at my terrible humor.” You giggle harder, your free hand coming up to grip his bicep. “Your humor is not terrible!” you lightly scold as you approach the first tank of colorful fish. They instantly capture your attention. “Wow, they’re all so beautiful!” Your hand on Bruce’s bicep feels so warm. He can’t stop himself from staring at your reflection in the glass—you look good together.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asks to stop himself from planning out an entire future with you. It’s too soon for that. Especially when there are so many variables that could mess things up. You tilt your head to the side, taking a moment to respond, “Hmmm, probably this one.” You point to a fish with a blend of blue and purple scales.

He nods and looks at the corresponding identification card printed next to the tank.

“Oh look here, that one is native to Wakanda. The scales are used to produce important and sustainable fertilizer for their diverse agricultural offerings.” He realizes he’s rambling, and looks to you wide-eyed. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I get excited.” You smile and turn to face him fully. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re so smart, Bruce. I could listen to you talk for hours.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t deny that the praise feels good but he feels undeserving. “I mean I only read what the identification card says,” he deflects with a teasing grin, hoping the joke would hide his insecurities. You cock your hip before playfully swatting at his upper arm. There’s such a fire in you. Bruce adores it. “You know what I mean, Doctor Banner. Now, show me which fish is your favorite?” Your curiosity about his interests has him lighting up. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you over to another tank. “My favorite is right over here.” Dropping your hand, he instead comes to stand behind you. With one hand on your waist and the other pointing out the fish. He hadn’t meant to tuck you so perfectly against him, but he did, and now he doesn’t ever want to move away. The smell of your shampoo and perfume mix together, leaving him totally captivated. It takes all his restraint to keep talking and not bury his face into your hair.

“That’s the puffer fish, or Tetraodontidae. They have this defense mechanism, so basically, when they are threatened, they can expand to over double their size. I guess I have a soft spot for them.”

You find yourself leaning back against his chest as you listen to his explanation. His reasoning not only makes perfect sense but shows you how insightful he can be. “I can understand why. It’s almost like you and Hulk.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. It’s only then that you both realize just how close you’ve both become. Bruce can’t help but notice that his lips are inches from yours. “Yes. It’s like me and Hulk.” His voice comes out huskier than he intends. There’s a tension building. One that’s begging to break free. All either one of you would have to do is close the last remaining inches, but before you can, Bruce’s watch beeps. It breaks the trance and has you both stepping back from one another. He checks his watch and silences the alarm. “Shoot, we have to hurry. There’s something I need to show you!” Without another word, he takes your hand and starts leading you to another part of the aquarium. There’s a bounce in his step as he walks you to the big surprise. His whole reason for picking the aquarium for your first date is because on your dating profile, you had written that your favorite animals are otters. Bruce had tucked this piece of information away until he needed it. He had painstakingly looked for an aquarium that not only had an otters exhibit but gave people the chance to pet them. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you found out. But when you both turn the corner you are instead faced with a giant sign that reads “Exhibit Closed for Renovation”. His heart drops and the blood in his veins starts to boil. He had checked the website! Had planned the entire date around this! “The website said it was going to be open!” he grits out as the hand not holding yours clenches into a fist. He feels Hulk beneath his skin, tugging to be let out. Bruce tries to suppress the feeling, but his chest begins to heave. Things have been better between them. No longer did he treat Hulk as a monster but as a part of him. Bruce made space for him in his home and life, which led to them not needing to fight one another for control. Instead, they attempted to live side by side. However, this is different. It mirrors a time when even the slightest inconvenience would trigger the Hulk. The tips of his ears and fingers prickle to a subtle shade of green. “This isn’t fair. Now everything is ruined!” He lets out a low growl and grips the hand he’s holding until you wince. You don’t have time to respond before you’re forced to rip your hand out of his grasp. That’s when you notice the color of his fingertips. Not knowing what to do to help, but not willing to abandon him, you step in front of him and cup his face. “Bruce? I need you to look at me. Nothing is ruined.” As you talk, you maneuver him backward until you’re both tucked away in a corner close to an emergency exit. You figure this is the best place for him to be if he did in fact lose control. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t respond. Instead, he tucks his chin to his chest and continues to breathe heavily. You say his name with a little more force, but still, nothing. He’s too preoccupied with the fury bubbling in his stomach. It causes tendrils of anger to spread through his limbs. Your words are muffled and your touch is hot. All his internal attempts to calm himself are destroyed by the deep seeded anger and self-loathing.

“This always happens. I can’t do anything right. Everything is ruined.” You’re more panicked now, it’s evident in your tone. “Forget about the otters! I don’t care. Please, Bruce, I’m just happy to be here with you!” What do you do? How do you break him from this spell? You needed him to focus on the good! An idea pops into your mind and before you have a chance to think it over…you do it. You grip his face, jerking it towards you, and kiss him—hard on the mouth. Your arms encircle his neck, putting your all into the kiss and trembling slightly. All you can do is pray your plan works and he kisses you back. For Bruce, his world stops spinning and time stands still. The kiss is enough to bring him back to the present. His heart rate settles and his skin tone reverts to normal, but his eyes are shut tight. He can’t kiss you back, not like this. Not when you were only kissing him for your safety. So he gently pushes you away. “T-Thank you…for that but I’m…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to…do that just to shut me up.” His words confuse you and you speak over him before he can continue, “I didn’t do it to shut you up! I did it because I wanted to and because I thought giving you something happy to think about would help.” You lose your nerve, faltering momentarily. “I…I’m sorry if I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your consent.” Bruce’s brow furrows and he finally meets your gaze again. “Wait, you wanted to kiss me?” You nod in earnest and he smiles. He brings his hand to cup your cheek. “You were so brave and strong. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me.” You relax into his touch, letting your face rest in his palm. You’re so beautiful and sweet. It makes Bruce long for things he hasn’t allowed himself to want. “I’m also sorry for assuming you were kissing me out of pity. I guess I just couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss…that.” He motions behind him, to where the Hulk had almost been standing.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a questionable look. “The Hulk is just a part of you. I know you’re used to people being afraid of him, but I’m not. I would kiss you, him, and anything else in between.” His cheeks twinge pink. Someone kissing Hulk? That wasn’t something Bruce could even fathom, but the feeling of his pulse skipping a beat tells him that his green counterpart is excited by the offer. Nervously, he chuckles at the realization. “W-Why don’t we take things one step at a time?” He says this not only to you but to appease Hulk into calming down. You take his hand and nod in agreement. The touch sends tingles from his palm and up his arm, making him feel bold. “Can I…I mean, may I kiss you? For real this time?” You nod with a smile and Bruce closes the distance between you. The kiss is soft and chaste but he can still taste the sweetness of your mouth. He hums at the taste but pulls away before he loses himself. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” He extends his hand to you. “Come with me?” You take it and let him lead you to the back of the aquarium. He leads you past countless tanks of exotic fish until you come to a dark room. So dark that it’s almost pitch black, but quickly your eyes adjust, revealing tanks filled with various-sized jellyfish. You gasp at how delicate they are, their subtle glow showing their translucence. Their bodies pushing and pulling them through the water in an almost intricate dance.

“Did you know that jellyfish are the world's oldest animal?” You shake your head ‘no’, transfixed on the tanks before you but soaking in his words like a sponge. “Scientists have found fossils indicating they preceded dinosaurs. I think they're magical.” You’re alone in this small dark space, and Bruce steps closer to whisper into your ear. “I think you’re pretty magical too.”

You gasp and turn towards him, whispering his name just before he captures your lips in another kiss. He’s more confident now, pulling you closer by your waist and gripping your hips tightly. You make out like teenagers, anxious and hungry for more. He whimpers at how good you feel and you can’t help but shudder against him in response. Your hands slide up to wrap around his broad shoulders. You feel safe in his arms so you push your body flush against him. He responds in turn, opening his mouth so that your tongues can touch. You’re so turned on that you’re certain you’ll combust, but he breaks the kiss. He’s breathing hard, clearly attempting to calm his heart rate. You give him space to do so and instead lace your fingers with his. He smiles his thanks before speaking. “How about on the way out, we take you to the gift shop so I can buy you a stuffed otter to make up for not being able to see the real ones?” You nod in excitement until it clicks that the date will be ending soon. “I would love that, but…what if after, I didn’t want to go home? What if I wanted to go home with you?” It takes Bruce a few moments to process exactly what you’re asking, but once it does his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yes! Uh…I mean, I would be honored.” The gift shop, walking to his car, and the drive to his home go by in a blur. One minute, you were asking him to take you home, and the next, you were holding a stuffed otter in your lap as he opened the car door for you.

You smile at the gesture, letting him help you out of his car, and walking up the front steps to his home. Little do you know, Bruce is holding his breath in hopes that he hadn’t left his home a mess before leaving. He sighs in relief after unlocking the door and seeing that the house is relatively clean. You step forward, taking in your surroundings, but his eyes are taking in your body. He imagines taking you to his bed and undressing you slowly. You move about his home, having no idea he was undressing you with his eyes. “You have a lovely home, Bruce. Most guy’s homes are…well…gross.” You giggle to yourself before placing your otter on the couch. He says your name in a way that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It sounds hot…needy…sexual. You turn to him, and like the opposite ends of two magnets, you’re pulled together–crashing into each other. No longer able to resist, your hands grope and mouths meet. You want to beg for more but he’s already hoisting you up by the waist and carrying you down the hall. You don’t know where he’s taking you, and frankly, you don’t care as long as he keeps kissing you.

He stumbles while pushing open his bedroom door with his foot, but quickly regains his stride over to his bed so he can carefully lay you down. Your hair fans out along his pillows and he sighs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Hearing him curse has you biting your bottom lip. You grip his shirt and tug him towards you until he’s leaning over you. “I want you, Bruce. I’ve wanted you since the first time we talked on the phone.” He nearly chokes at your confession because he’s certain he had made an utter fool of himself on that phone call. “Please…” Your plea breaks him from his thoughts as your fingers start working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.” Shit. Shit. Shit. This was happening. This was really about to happen. Bruce’s cock jumps within the confines of his pants. “I won’t, Princess. I won’t make you wait.” His words are rushed, breathless as trembling fingers work on unzipping your sundress. “I’ve been wanting you too.” You’re both rushing to get one another naked now. His shirt. Your dress. His pants. Your bra. His cock is freed from his boxers and Bruce sighs with relief. You blush at the sight of how hard and thick he is. It would fill you up so perfectly. He looks at you with the same amount of desire in his gaze. Your nipples harden under that gaze, causing his cock to throb. And then he’s on you, crawling over your body so he can cage you beneath him. He can’t help himself from kissing his way down your chest and stomach, pausing only when he gets to the waistband of your lace panties. “May I?”

He doesn’t need to ask, but the fact that he does warms your heart. You nod, giving your consent, and he hooks two fingers under the lace. You lift your hips, making it easier for your panties to be pulled down your legs. Once free of them, you let your legs fall away to reveal your cunt to him. You blush, knowing you’re already wet with slick. “Your kisses have been making me wet all afternoon,” you whisper, embarrassed. Bruce perks up at this information, letting a finger trace along your folds. “Wow, really? All afternoon?” You nod, your face feeling hot. “I love that you’re this wet for me.” He turns his head so he can leave kisses along your inner thigh. “I want to taste,” he groans, hungry for it. So hungry that he dives his face between your thighs, licking from your slit to your clit. He moans as the taste and scent of your cunt fill his senses. You moan at the feeling of his tongue alternating between licking your clit and slipping his tongue inside. Each time, your inner walls clench around the muscles of his tongue. “Oh God, y-you’re so good with your mouth!” you pant, starting to buck your hips. Lewdly, he devours your wetness, grunting against your flesh. His arms wrap around your thighs and pull you forward so your cunt is smashed against his face. He turns his focus on your clit, eagerly sucking on it. He’s so turned on by the noises you’re making and the taste on his tongue that he can’t stop himself from rutting into the mattress to get some relief. “I want you to cum on my face,” he declares suddenly, as if the idea just popped into his head and he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud. “Can you do that for me?” You find that you can only nod as the pleasure steadily builds throughout your limbs. “Here, let me try this,” he says as he slips his middle finger into your awaiting hole. Instantly, you grind down on it, crying out his name when he starts fingering you harder. His mouth returns to your clit, swirling his tongue over it to drive you closer and closer to the edge. And damn are you close to that edge. You scream for him, tell him how good he’s making you feel. He doesn’t let up, and without warning, your back is arching off the bed as you cum all over his face, just like he wanted you to. He works you through your aftershocks, licking up every drop of cum that spills out of you until your body slumps back onto the bed. It’s only then that he eases his finger out and sits back on his knees. “That…was incredible,” he pants with a light chuckle and then leans over you once more to leave a kiss on your temple. “Thank you for that, Princess.” You practically purr at the nickname. Usually, names like that give you the ick, but Bruce saying it gives you butterflies. “I love it when you call me that. I like being your Princess.” You hook a leg around his waist, beckoning him closer so his cock is nestled against the cleft of your cunt. He whimpers, grinding his erection against you. He wants to be inside you, wants to fuck you hard and deep, but he needs to slow down. “W-Wait, wait,” he pleads, holding your hips firm in an attempt to keep you both in place. “We…We need to talk first.” Something about his tone gives you pause. “What’s the matter?”you ask, giving him your full attention. Bruce worries at his bottom lip, wanting to say the right thing. “I don’t want to scare you but…sometimes…uh, when I cum, I turn a little…green.” A blush works its way up from his neck. “If you catch my drift.” You sit up, more intrigued than afraid, but the man before you misunderstands and continues on nervously. “You have n-nothing to worry about, I promise you. I would never let anything happen to you.” You silence him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m not afraid. Not of you or of him. I want to make you cum.” Your hand drops, replacing it with your lips, whispering against his mouth. “I want to make you both cum.”

Your acceptance of him and his other half stirs an animalistic lust from deep within him. When he moves on top of you, it feels as if it’s in tandem with Hulk. They had never moved as one before. Had never wanted the same thing so completely as they do now.

Bruce kisses you roughly, tongues rolling along one another while their bodies grind. He aligns his cock with your opening, moaning in between your kisses. “Is that what the sweet girl wants? To make us cum so hard that we turn for you?” His voice is deeper, with pupils blown wide with lust. His words have your heart racing, and although this is your first time in Bruce’s bed…something tells you it’s both he and Hulk who would be fucking you tonight. You push your forehead against his and nod eagerly. If he was going to speak, it’s cut off by the growl that bubbles up from his throat. He’s completely overtaken by his feral alter ego, and in one fell swoop, sheathes his cock fully inside of you. You yelp, tensing at the sudden intrusion, but damn does he fill you up. However, the sound seems to bring Bruce back into himself. “S-Shit, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

You feel him starting to pull out of your heat. “Don’t!” you cry, wrapping your legs around him to keep him in place. “D-Don’t stop, Bruce. You feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He nods, relieved that he hasn’t hurt you, and starts rolling his hips. “Mmhh, you feel good too. So tight.” But his slow pace doesn’t last long. His hands push your legs away, giving him space to pull out and then slam back in. You both throw your heads back, swearing loudly at the first deep thrust. Your walls had clenched so perfectly around his length so he pulls out and does it again. The drag of his thick cock along your walls is making you gush. You scream his name and claw at his back. You can’t seem to focus on anything but the hard pounding rhythm of his cock. Bruce bows his head and starts kissing, biting and sucking at your breasts. He does so as passionately as he had eaten your cunt, making you wonder if he has a slight oral fixation when it comes to sex. Not that you mind. You’ll wear the marks he’s leaving on your breasts with pride.

A hand reaches between your legs to find your clit and rub firm circles on it. You arch into his touch and thrusts, trying to meet both. It causes a wet slapping noise to fill the room as he ruts into you.

Every thrust brings a flush of green across Bruce’s broad back. But he can’t cum. Can’t turn.

He needs to make you cum and he needs to keep you safe. But his control is slipping the closer his orgasm becomes. “A-Am I making you feel good, Princess?” You don’t hesitate to moan your reply in between desperate pants, “Yes, fuck yes! G-Getting close. More Bruce. Fuck m-me more, make me cum!” Any momentary self-consciousness fades at the sight of you falling apart. He gives you exactly what you need and cracks his hips faster, harder, rougher, while keeping firm pressure on your clit. It has your muscles tightening, that feeling of sweet release just within reach. His movements become sloppy, unable to keep away his own orgasm for much longer. But you’re too close to cumming to notice or care. “Cum for me, Princess. I…I need you to cum with me.” His words are all you need to come crashing over the edge. Your orgasm rocks you to your core, the entire time chanting his name like he’s your own personal God. Your inner walls pulse around every throbbing inch of his cock, coaxing him to reach his own peak.

His back contorts and green flashes down his arms and legs as he cums, filling you with it as he screams, sounding more monster than man. Was he about to…turn?

You don’t have time to react, because as quickly as it started, Bruce collapses on top of you. You’re honestly too stunned to react but the sound of a whimper breaks you from it. “Bruce?” Your arms come around him so you can stroke his back and hair. “Are you alright?”

It takes him a few minutes of heavy breathing before he’s able to lift his head.” I-I’m okay. Could we just…lay here for a little while?” He sounds exhausted and lost. It tugs at your heartstrings. “Of course, for as long as you need,” you whisper, allowing your fingers to delicately trace over the lines of his back. For a long while, you lay together with his cock still nestled inside you. Not that you mind, it feels right being close to him. When he’s ready, Bruce slowly props himself up and slips out of you before looking you in the eye. He sheepishly thanks you, looking rather flustered. “I’m uh…sorry if I scared you earlier…you just felt so good and he…” Bruce trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue, so you sit up and cup his cheek so he looks at you. “You have nothing to apologize for. You made me cum so hard. I’d let you fuck me over and over again if you wanted to.” He visibly perks up at that and can’t stop the boyish grin from spreading across his features. You grin back. “I guess I made him feel good too…if he was fighting to break out.” He takes a calming breath and runs a hand through his hair. “He uh…still does.”

“Really??” You sound shocked but intrigued. “Do you…uh want to let him out? I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” Bruce hesitates, not knowing if letting Hulk out is a good idea, but then he looks back at you. His eyes roam over your beautiful naked body that is now sitting back against the headboard.

An image of you relaxing in his bed every morning from now until the end of time flashes through his mind. But it isn’t just his fantasy…it’s Hulk’s. “Well…he does think you’re pretty.” “Really? He told you that?” You blush, biting your bottom lip, and Bruce can’t help but chuckle at how adorable you look. “It’s more like a feeling, but yes, in a way.” You nod in understanding and wait for his final say on the matter. “Okay, you and Hulk can meet,” he agrees, and you happily squeal. “I’ll see you in the morning?” “In the morning,” you repeat, and Bruce leans in to give you another kiss before standing. He makes his way over to his dresser and pulls out a clean pair of boxers that are enhanced to stretch to Hulk’s size. “Now, if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to use my phone and call Tony,” he says over his shoulder while slipping the boxers on. “Call Tony, got it! But everything will be fine,” you reassure as you reach over the side of the bed to grab your underwear, and Bruce’s discarded shirt and put them on. When you look back at him, he’s facing away from you with his back rounded. He groans as loudly as he did when he came but is undoubtedly pained. Green muscles ripple out from his spine, up his neck, and down his limbs. You watch amazed as he doubles in size right before your eyes. He sways for a moment before gaining his footing and turning around to face you. Your breath catches in your throat at the realization that the famous Hulk is standing in front of you. “H-Hi there. I’m–”

“HULK KNOWS.” His deep booming voice cuts you off. “You do?” Hulk nods. “YOU’RE PRETTY LADY.” The pet name makes you giggle and move closer to him but still remain perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes roam over him, wondering what being held in his arms would feel like. “Is…Is this where you sleep too? Or do you have your own room?” You use the questions as a way to distract your mind from thinking about his touch. He scrunches his green nose up in distaste, “BANNER’S MATTRESS TOO LUMPY. HULK HAS BIGGER BED.” He points down the hall to where the home’s second bedroom is. “PRETTY LADY WANT TO SEE HULK’S ROOM?”

“I would love that.” You smile and he holds out his hand for you to take. You do so, and with more gentleness than should have been capable of someone his size, he helps you out of bed and leads you to his room. However, the entire way, your eyes stayed glued on Hulk–memorizing and taking in the parts of him that were still innately Bruce. With your tiny hand in his massive one, he steps inside his bedroom, no longer needing to crouch down because the ceiling is higher now. The walls are covered with photos and newspaper clippings of the Avengers and their families. You smile, it’s endearing to see that he has a soft side. Hulk flops down on the extra-large mattress with a smirk, stealing your attention away from the photographs. “HULK’S ROOM BETTER. BED SOFTER AND BETTER FOR SNUGGLES.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed, silently inviting you over. You raise a brow in his direction.

You couldn’t believe it…he was flirting with you. Boldly flirting with you at that! As if he already knew he had you right where he wanted… Those green eyes look at you like the alpha of a pack, ready to lay beside his mate. Maybe Hulk wasn’t just Bruce’s rage personified but also his self-confidence with the opposite sex. Not having an answer, you decide to climb up and join him on the bed. If he wants to be a flirt, then so would you. You lay down beside him so you can rest your head on his rather huge bicep. “Mmhm, you’re right…much more comfortable.” You smirk up at him. Seeing the smug look on your face has him laughing, his frame rumbles with it. “PRETTY LADY LIKE HULK’S ARMS BETTER! BANNER WILL BE JEALOUS.”

You shake your head at his silliness. “I love both of your arms,” you lightly scold until you yawn without warning. “Shoot, sorry about that. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

Hulk shakes his head at your apology and lightly pats your head. “NO SORRY. PRETTY LADY SLEEP NOW.”

You nod, suddenly finding it difficult to stay awake. He pulls you in, letting you fully nestle against him.

“BANNER SAYS PRETTY LADY LIKES HAIR PLAYED WITH.”

At first, his words confuse you, but then you remember one late-night phone conversation when you told Bruce that having your hair played with always puts you right to sleep.

You smile at the memory, confirming Hulk’s words, and his fingers find their way into your hair. He gently strokes and pets, leaving you nearly purring.

Hulk chuckles under his breath but doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. “PRETTY LADY SOUNDS LIKE KITTEN.”

“I guess that makes me Hulk’s kitten,” you mumble, trying to stifle another yawn.

“HULK’S KITTEN,” he repeats softly in agreement. “CLOSE YOUR EYES, KITTEN. HULK KEEP YOU SAFE FOR BANNER.”

Your half-lidded eyes finally fall shut.

It only takes another moment and you’re asleep.

Hulk watches you, not wanting sleep to overtake him, but it isn’t easy when he feels so relaxed with you in his arms. Eventually, exhaustion seeps in, winning him over. But just before he fully subcomes to sleep, both Hulk and Bruce share the same thought.

This would be the start of something new.

#lady in writing #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #incredible hulk #hulk x reader #bruce banner smut #mark ruffalo #bruce banner fanfiction

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shitsndgiggs · 2 months ago

Note

You know the one about Jobe being the insecure one in the relationship bc of Jude but how about the reader being the one insecure because Jobe is starting to really blow up and has so many girls in his dm's alllll the time but he ofc does everything to reasure you xx

FOR ME, ITS YOU - JOBE BELLINGHAM

… idk

Jobe Bellingham x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I was scrolling through my phone, aimlessly flipping between apps, but my mind was far from the glowing screen. Ever since Jobe’s football career had started to take off, things had changed.

He was blowing up—his name in headlines, interviews, more fans, and… DMs. Tons of them.

And not just any DMs. Beautiful girls, influencers, models—women I could only dream of looking like.

They flooded his notifications, and it gnawed at me. I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping in.

What if he realized he could do better?

Jobe was sitting across the room, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the knot of insecurity that had been tightening in my chest.

Every time I glanced at him, my thoughts spiraled. What if he was talking to one of them? What if they were funnier or more interesting? What if he started to lose interest in me?

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. “You’ve been getting a lot of attention lately.”

Jobe looked up from his phone, a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light, but failing miserably. “You know... all the DMs, comments, the girls. I see them, Jobe. They're all so—" I paused, unsure how to even finish the sentence, “...gorgeous.”

His expression softened immediately. “Wait, is that what’s been bothering you?”

I avoided his gaze, suddenly feeling silly for even bringing it up. But it was eating me up inside, and I couldn’t pretend anymore. “I just… sometimes I wonder if you’ll realize you could be with someone like them. Someone who’s... better.”

Jobe set his phone down and crossed the room, sitting beside me on the couch. He gently took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You really think I’d want to be with anyone else?”

I shrugged, still staring at the floor. “I mean, look at them. They’re flawless, and they seem so perfect for you. You’re blowing up right now, Jobe, and I can’t help but feel like... maybe I’m not enough.”

He turned toward me, his hand cupping my chin and lifting my face so our eyes met. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re the one I want. Not them. You.”

I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “But they’re so—”

“Stop,” Jobe interrupted, his voice full of sincerity. “Yeah, maybe they’re models or influencers, but I don’t care about any of that. You think I care about some random girl sliding into my DMs when I’ve got you?”

I looked at him, my heart aching with uncertainty. “But why me? You could have anyone, Jobe.”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Why you? Because you’re the one who’s been with me from the start. You’re the one who knows me better than anyone. You’re the one who makes me laugh, who supports me, who’s real with me. None of those girls know me like you do. They don’t mean anything compared to you.”

I blinked back tears, trying to believe him, but my insecurities still lingered. “But what if—”

“No,” he said firmly, leaning in closer, his voice gentle but unwavering. “I don’t want them. I want you. You’re more than enough. You’re everything I need, everything I want.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes full of warmth. “I love how you’re always there for me. I love how you know all my quirks and still put up with me. I love how you make me feel grounded when everything else is crazy. That’s what matters to me, not a bunch of likes or DMs from people who don’t even know who I am.”

I finally let out a small laugh, feeling the tension in my chest start to loosen. “You’re really not interested in them?”

Jobe smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not even a little bit. Besides, they don’t have anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at my lips. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug. “You’re beautiful, and you’re everything I could ask for. I’m lucky to have you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

As I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, his words finally started to sink in. Maybe I didn’t need to compare myself to all those other girls. Jobe chose me. And for now, that was enough.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice soft.

He kissed the top of my head and smiled against my hair. “I love you too, and nothing’s going to change that.”

#football imagine #football x reader #jobe bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham

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hypnoneghoul · 4 months ago

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Hyp! You said, so you shall receive! Ofcourse only if you want to do something with it but this lil shit has been rattling around my racoon brain for a bit. So, for you 🤲

Rain has the most delicate wrist’s. They’re not even the smallest in the pack, Aurora for example has teeny tiny, fingers overlap, kinda wrist’s.

No Rain’s are a contradiction of themselves, delicate and soft looking like precious porcelain but there’s strength in there too, there has to be because the bass is heavy.

His Ulna is very prominent and after he’s been playing for a few hours there’s a vein that curves around it, cradling the bone.

It’s also a terribly erogenous spot for him, Dew would know. He’s spent a hours staring, stroking his fingers over the delicate joints, imagining how he’d make Rain into a weepy little mess begging Dew to just do something, stop teasing.

Rains wrists drive Dew absolutely feral and Rain knows it.

Or something like that, idk. 🤷🏻‍♂️

this made my brain go empty for weeks but here i am and i bring food. loosely inspired by @miasmaghoul's fic on dewther watching the ghovie, hope u don't mind

does not contain any rhrn spoilers!!!

“Should’ve made you take the jacket off sooner,” Dewdrop whispers right into his ear with another slow stroke over delicate skin.

It’s stretched so thin over the bones of Rain’s wrist, keeping all the tendons and veins not hidden, but veiled nonetheless.

The water ghoul grits his teeth and digs his claws further into his own thigh. Well, not claws, considering he’s got them glamored—they’re surrounded by tens of unsuspecting humans, after all—but his blunt, perfectly trimmed nails. The same ones that are still flashing on the big screen right before them from time to time.

“I’d get to see those pretty wrists even more.”

Rain can do nothing but keep his head straight and his eyes glued to the screen. He should’ve known. He should’ve known his little mate would go absolutely feral seeing not just him in general in the cinema, but the close-ups of his hands. His wrists.

Why the delicate bones wrapped in fair skin were Dewdrop’s undoing, nobody’s ever learned, even though nobody could deny that every single part of Rain’s body is absolutely perfect. He carries the precisely carved out and yet so natural beauty of renaissance statues. For some reason, the fire ghoul’s favorite part of him is one of the unassuming ones and because of this his mate’s own body was conditioned to betray him every single time a reverent fingertip would be placed over that spot.

“Dew, you can’t–” Rain mutters when the music is loud enough to cover up his cracking voice. There’s nothing more he wants right now than for Dewdrop to go on and work him up and up until he tips over the edge, but they can't, they're in public. And the water ghoul knows he won’t be able to control himself if his mate carries on his teasing.

“Sure I can,” Dewdrop turns to smile at him and if Rain didn’t know better he’d call it genuine, sweet, innocent. The fire ghoul is all but that.

Dewdrop lets his glamor slip the tiniest bit, just enough for one of his nails to return to its natural state. He scrapes it over the middle one of Rain’s flexors, pressing it down just enough to leave a straight red line following the tendon. His skin is so delicate, it takes barely anything to leave a mark.

The thought makes the fire ghoul let out a growl.

Rain whines pathetically like a kicked puppy and throws his head back against the top of the cushioned cinema seat. Another clip focused solely on his own fretting hand flashes on the screen and the water ghoul wants to scream.

Instead he throws his free hand over his crotch, pressing down onto the steadily growing bulge to take some of the edge off. It doesn’t escape Dewdrop’s attention—just as the smell of the fire ghoul’s cunt in arousal doesn’t escape Rain’s.

He leans into his ear once again.

“It’s actually a wonder you’ve never tried putting your whole hand into me,” Dewdrop whispers, moving his claw up Rain’s forearm as he shakes in his seat. “We should try that later. Wanna see your wrist buried inside me while my slick is dripping down this pretty veiny forearm all the way to your elbow.”

The next noise the water ghoul lets out makes the entire auditorium turn their heads.

#divider by @ghuleh-recs #hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul

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daengtokki · 1 year ago

Text

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 8.5k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: part three was heavily edited from it's original version. There are most likely some grammatical errors that I've glossed over from staring at the screen for so long. Feel free to send a message and let me know if you see anything wildly wrong.

→ PART ONE

→ PART TWO

Part 3 of 4

“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”

He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.

His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and back across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.

You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.

Your plane lands four hours later than scheduled. You’re tired, hungry, and your back is killing you. Korea Air is fine, and it always has been, but 13 hours in coach is something you’ll never get used to.

There were no plans to travel home up until three days ago, and it’s a miracle you got the week off to deal with your family. As much as you hate doing it, you don’t mind a change of scenery and a break from your typical work days in Korea.

Honestly, this is the perfect solution to the loneliness and monotony. It was only three weeks ago that you finally got to see Seungmin again, but it’s been a long three weeks. And he has kept his promise of keeping in touch.

Every single day since date number two, he's sent at least one text. You try to send messages only when he does, but occasionally you can’t help yourself, and you send something in the middle of your work day, or right before you go to bed. You’re still a little worried about being a bother, and holding back your clingy-ness has been difficult, but he always sends something back. Not always right away, but he does answer. And he sends selfies often—those texts are your favorite.

You have failed to mention that you’ve been on your way to Chicago (he sent a text about two hours ago, letting you know the first two shows had gone well), and that you’d be arriving the day before he would also be in the same city. But you’ll let him know soon. You don’t have much hope for getting to see him while you’re both here; he’s busy, and the last thing you want to do is bother him during a tight schedule. But he's been the only thing on your mind for weeks.

You managed to get a ticket to the Chicago concert the night you realized you be in town for it, but it wasn’t cheap. Even if you don’t get to see him alone, seeing him on stage will be worth the price.

____

“Who are you talking to?”

There’s a giggle in his ear, and a sharp chin lands on his shoulder. “Why are you smiliiing?”

IN grabs Seungmin’s shoulders and takes a seat directly behind him, giving him a good view of the phone in his friends hands.

“Don’t be nosy.”

“Is it the girl you’ve been talking to?”

Seungmin half turns and stares at IN, then looks him up and down, “What are you talking about?”

IN stares back wordlessly, a grin plastered on his face. He’s squinting his eyes at him accusingly. “I’m talking about the girl you’re always texting.”

Seungmin picks up his iced coffee, takes a sip, then releases himself from IN’s stare.

IN follows him across the room.

“Send her a cute selfie.”

“I already did.”

“Oh, haha!” He beams with pride at thinking he got him to slip up. “Did she send one back? Can I see her?”

“No. And no.”

“I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”

“How did you know if nobody else knows?”

IN stops and thinks for a moment, then he side-eyes the other two members that are currently in the same room. They’re too far away to hear the conversation, but Seungmin stands and heads over to them.

“Chan?”

Chan turns and looks at him with a smile. He doesn’t get a chance to speak before Seungmin does.

“Did you tell IN about her?”

It takes him a few seconds to process what he’s being asked. “No, no…I didn’t tell anyone.” his voice lowers as he realizes what they’re talking about.

“How does he know?”

Chan peaks around him at IN, who’s already staring wide eyed. He beckons him over with two fingers, and he runs over, unbothered.

“How do you know?” He asks softly, very curiously. “I didn’t tell you.”

“I just guessed.”

Seungmin and Chan stare, speechless.

“I always see him smiling and laughing while he’s texting, and then taking selfies. I didn’t know he was actually texting…” he looks around at the others that just walked into the room. “…texting someone.” He whispers the last part.

“The less people that know, the better…” Chan says, but casually, as if he knows he doesn’t really have to tell IN. “It’s nothing serious, right Seungmin?”

“Huh…” he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. “Oh um, no…it’s not.”

Chan stares a little longer, “is it?”

Seungmin feels like his mind is being read. “We just talk a lot.”

He nods and leaves it at that. IN smiles at Seungmin once more before walking off. Then he pulls his phone out to check his notification.

Sounds like you guys had a good time. I did catch some fan videos from last night!

He smiles at the text, and then wonders what you’re doing up at four in the morning.

____

You pull out your phone, hoping the buzz in your pocket is him.

What are you doing up so late? Are you okay?

Oh, you forgot about the time difference. Maybe it’s time to let him know you’re not in Korea.

“I’m okay. I just landed in Chicago. I had a family thing come up, and I had to come home. I promise I’m not following you.”

You see him typing a few seconds after your message is delivered.

oh, you’re from Chicago! That’s so exciting that you’re here. Are you coming to the concert tomorrow night? Please come!

Before you have time to reply, he’s typing again…

Maybe not if you have family to see

“No, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it”

let me know what seats you have…maybe I can get you closer

You’re trying to text him and stuff your bags into the trunk of you moms car at the same time.

“I don’t think they’re very close, but I’ll let you know as soon as I get home”

don’t worry, I’ll figure something out

“What are you so smiley about?” Your mom asks and slams the trunk shut.

“Just a text.”

____

“Sooo…”

“Soooo what?” Seungmin glances at IN. He has an inkling about what he’s getting at, and he’s trying not to indulge him too much. But Seungmin will admit that if any of them were going to find out prematurely, he's glad it was him.

“Can I see her?” He’s careful and quiet saying it. “Please?”

“Fine, give me a second.” He types a quick message and then pulls up the photos you’ve both shared. He finds one of the very few selfies you’ve sent him and shoves it a few inches from IN’s face.

He looks and his eyes widen, smirk grows. “Oh she’s not…” he stops himself and lowers his excited voice, “she’s not Korean? Oh she sent a text.” He giggled and tries to finish reading before Seungmin pulls the phone back.

“No, she’s not.”

“Where is she from?”

“Chicago. She’s here now, too.”

“Oh she’s gonna come see us tomorrow!”

Seungmin nods and types, “yeah, she is coming. I need to get her a better seat.”

“Sneak her into soundcheck.“

____

The next morning, you wake up to the buzzing of a text notification. A Seungmin message. You open it up and squint through sleepy, jet-lagged eyes. It’s barely 8 am. You slept an entire ten hours, at least.

Good morning 🤍 if you’re able to, come down to the venue at around 2!

A close-up selfie follows. You can only see his eye, a peace sign, and a little bit of hair.

And a heart emoji. That combination is a first.

You reply, set an alarm, and immediately fall back asleep.

And luckily, you don’t sleep through it. At eleven, you’re up, nervous, showered, more nervous, and then when it’s time to figure out your wardrobe, you feel like you’re going to puke. Knowing you’ll see Seungmin is keeping most of your nerves at bay, but the fact that it’ll be at an arena of this size, with this many people (you assume there will be a massive amount of fans already hanging around that early, because you know how concerts here are), and throw in the possibility of meeting his friends…you’re nervous.

____

It’s as busy near the venue as you expected. And you find yourself enjoying it, surprisingly. Seeing all of the fans gathered around and clearly having a good time, despite the heat, is nice.

You jump out of your Uber and send a text to Seungmin. You need a more accurate location to head to, but for now you don’t mind wandering around and people watching. Just a glance at someone seems to immediately give away their favorite member, and you make it a point to look for anyone who prefers your favorite.

A text message buzzes before you get too far.

there is a staff entrance at the box office, just walk in and pretend like you belong

That sounds like a terrible idea, but you trust him and head in that direction. It’s not very busy there, because the tickets have long since sold out, but there are staff members milling around. You don’t look like you belong, but you also know that attitude and demeanor can get you far, so…

____

Seungmin only mentioned his plan (IN’s, really) to Chan about ten minutes prior to his last message to you.

“I don’t know if that was the best idea,” he says. “Is she already here?”

“Yes, she’s somewhere outside. And I know.”

“Okay, I might have a solution. Wait here.”

Chan disappears for a few minutes, and in the meantime, Seungmin actually starts to feel a little nervous. His plan was simple: have you walk casually in through the staff entrance he’s already seen used many times that days, by many different people—some with and some without staff shirts or lanyards.

“Even if she gets in using your terrible plan,” Chan returns, and behind him is a man much larger and taller than either of them. “She can’t walk around alone or with you the entire time.”

“She gets her own bodyguard!”

“Chaperone. And she won’t look too out of place with him. “

“Thanks, Chan. Thank you, Jay.”

“No problem, buddy. Let’s go find her before she gets lost.” Jay pats Seungmin on the back and leads him down the hallway. “What does she look like?”

It’s a long walk toward the entrance, but both of them scan every person and group as they pass by. It gives the butterflies in his stomach more time to move up to his chest and throat.

“She’s right there!” Seungmin waves and gets your attention before approaching. He doesn’t want to make a scene, so he waits until none of the venue staff is around.

You have a hard time containing yourself when you finally catch sight of him. You don’t remember him ever smiling as wide as he is right now, and it makes your legs tremble a little.

You wave and wait for him to reach you.

“Hey…” Seungmin stands a few feet from you. He seems a little uneasy.

The man following behind him is obviously trying to keep some distance, but not too much distance. “I can turn away if it makes you both more comfortable.”

“No Jay, you’re fine,” Seungmin laughs but doesn’t look away from you.

“Is this your bodyguard?”

“He is, actually. But today he’s going to hang out with you so you don’t look out of place, and you have someone who knows what’s going on.”

“Oh, that's a relief.”

“But I’ll take you to our dressing room if you’d like…if you want to meet everyone."

"I'm...I do, but do you think it's too much? I mean, too much too soon?"

"Meeting them?" He thinks about it. His mouth is pushed to one side, puffing up his cheek. "I don't mind if you want to wait. We can always just go right out by the stage for soundcheck. You'll see them out there, they'll probably see you. You'll be a mystery."

"I like that idea. Maybe afterward I'll feel better about it."

He nods and waves Jay over. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“You look nice.” He lowers his voice and and drops his gaze to the floor. But you can still see his smile.

____

You’re sitting a few rows back from the main stage. Your chaperone is a few yards away and much more relaxed out here. There are so many people working the sound check that your extra face is hardly out of place, so now you feel like you can relax and enjoy the view.

All eight of them are on stage, along with a few band members, and some techs. There’s a camera filming everything just off stage, and another directly on stage with them. You watch Seungmin as he interacts with it. He looks relaxed and happy. No more worry in his eyes.

You get out the earplugs he gave you, but for now you just enjoy listening to him speak into his mic and headset. He looks at you a few times, but subtly, trying not to direct too much attention.

One of the others keeps looking your way, you assume out of confusion or curiosity. Or both. It’s Lee Know. You watch as he walks along the edge of the stage closest to where you’re sitting. Another member joins him and looks out; this one is smiling, almost as wide as Seungmin smiled at you earlier. You know who everyone is thanks to the endless videos you've watched. It's IN.

You try not to make too much eye contact, but you don’t avoid them completely. They seem to know who you are.

Your chaperone appears next to again and takes a seat, “having a good time?”

“I am, thank you for dealing with me.”

“No problem, anything for these boys.”

“Do you know them well?”

“I’ve been working with them for a while now, so I’d say I do. How’d a girl like you meet Mr. Kim?”

The Mr. Kim is said with a bit of sarcasm, but a cute, playful sarcasm. And by a girl like you, you assume he means an American.

“I live in Korea, near where he grew up. We met through a friend. Do we seem like a weird match? I mean…we’re not a couple—"

“Are you sure about that? He’s looking at you right now with those big puppy dog eyes.”

Jay points up to Seungmin. When you look, he quickly smiles and waves before running back to the center of the stage.

____

Your adrenaline is off the charts at the end of the concert. You had an idea of what to expect from footage of other concerts, but being there in person, watching them…watching him, was obviously on another level. You feel like you’ve been introduced to a new little part of Seungmin’s personality. You feel closer to him.

Now you’re back outside in the fresh night air. You haven’t heard from him yet, but you’re not surprised. He’s probably exhausted. You stick around, though. He didn’t mention anything about seeing each other after the concert ended, so you don’t assume anything or get your hopes up (even though they are, by default, always up when it comes to him).

A small group of girls—you can’t really tell how old, maybe around your age—find a place to sit near you. They’re understandably excited and very loud, so you listen in as they talk about their favorite parts, favorite songs, and biases. The loudest of the group is a Felix fan. You sneak a glance at them and one of them notices you.

She waves, “are you here alone?”

You look around and then point to yourself, “Me? Oh, yeah I am.”

The rest of them wave you over with such enthusiasm that you can’t possibly deny them your presence.

“Was it your first concert? It was mine, but not theirs. We’re flying to California for the first two next week.” The girl who looks the youngest, and has a Han Quokka plush strapped to her gestures to the whole group. “Are you going to any more?”

“This is the only one I got a ticket for, so probably not.

“Who’s you bias?” The one who spoke to you first asks.

You hesitate for a moment. Who is your bias?

“It’s Seungmin.”

The girl continues talking, but you’re distracted by the buzzing of your phone. It’s him.

you are still around, yeah?

“Of course! I’m outside”

Now he’s calling. “Sorry, I gotta get this!” You excuse yourself from the group and answer.

“Hi, it’s a little loud out here.”

“Okay, I just figured calling would be easier. Come back in the way you did earlier, I’m already here.”

“Okay, I’m near there. Give me 10 seconds.”

He starts counting down…

“Okay…nine…”

You laugh and speed up a little—

“Eight…”

—but there are more people here and dodging them is not easy.

“Seven…six…five…��

“Count slower!”

“Fooooouur…three…”

You see the door and push through a couple much harder than you intend, but your hand is pushing the door open just as Seungmin says—

“Two! You did it!”

He’s a good distance away, but you can see his smile. He takes a few steps toward you, but lets you finish closing the gap. He holds out his arms and pulls you into a hug, which catches you off guard. You’re surprised oh makes him giggle. There’s nobody around except for Jay, but it still feels very bold.

“You were amazing.” You squeeze him a little tighter around the waist, and he reciprocates.

“Thank you…I hope you had a good time.”

“I did,” you slowly release him but keep a bit of his shirt clenched in your fist. “What’s your plan for tonight?”

“Hotel tonight…and I think we are leaving in the morning. Unless they change things last minute, which sometimes happens.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to leave right away. It’d be nice if you stayed in Chicago a little longer, though.”

“Yes, it would be nice.” You see him glance at Jay and lower his voice. “I can let you know which hotel, though. And I’ll text you my room number.“

“Oh?” You feel your face getting hot, and Seungmin’s cheeks have definitely turned a shade of pink.

“Unless I have to share the room.”

“Well, you just let know which hotel. And we’ll figure something out if we need to.”

He nods shyly and takes your face in his hands. He doesn’t pull you in for a kiss, though, just gently rubs his thumb over your cheek. And it’s somehow even better.

“I have to go, but I’ll text you.” He disappears with Jay around the corner.

And then you panic a little, because you weren’t ready for a hotel invitation. You’re having flashbacks of the last date, and how heavy things got for just a few minutes. And how Seungmin reacted, because he hasn’t gone that far with anyone yet.

Maybe that isn’t what he was getting at. You’ve spent plenty of time with him alone in your apartment, why would being alone in his hotel be any different?

It’s just a feeling. Just in the way he lowered his voice and blushed. Things will play out how they’re supposed to, though. No pressure. You’d never put him in an uncomfortable situation.

It might be a good idea to prepare anyway.

Going home seems pointless, because the hotel is most likely here in the city. You don’t want to waste time traveling home and then back. You’re already short on time as it is.

But when you find a convenience store to pop into, you get a look at yourself in the mirror. It could be worse, you suppose. It was a hot day, and the concert was no different. Besides, Seungmin has already seen you like this. It can’t be that bad.

But you do buy a water to chug, gum, and when you pass by the condoms, you stare at them for far too long. Buying them means you expect something to happen, and you feel weird about expecting it for some reason. Not buying them and being unprepared seems worse, though.

You grab a pack. You grab two, actually. You did get a quick feel of him before. And you remember it well. Now you just have to deal with the awkwardness of checking out with two different sizes of condoms.

You stuff your purchases between the mess of other things in your bag and walk aimlessly for a few blocks. It’s still crowded down here, even though it’s getting late, and you can’t help but start worrying when almost an hour passes with no text from a Seungmin.

Maybe you should have gone home and waited.

But just as the thought crosses your mind, you get a message.

“Here’s the address, and my room number is 1344.”

Your heart starts to race when you read it. He has his own room, so things will at least be easy. And the address is only another two blocks away.

____

You text him when you get to his room instead of knocking. You’re afraid to make any unnecessary noise. He's shuffling around in the room before the latch clicks and the doorknob turns.

Somehow every time you see him, he’s even better looking.

The door is closed and locked behind you before either of you speak.

“Hi…you got here fast!”

“I was close by. Was I too fast?” You look him up and down. He’s in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his hair is a little damp.

“No, definitely not. As long as I don’t look like a wet dog.”

“No, you look very handsome,” you grab a handful of his shirt and pull him toward you. “It’s a good look.”

He leans forward and kisses you on the forehead. Another romantic gesture. It gives you butterflies. You like it, but you can't help but be baffled by his very bold and distinct romantic gestures. Three weeks ago he had a hard time with your hypothetical dating question. But that was three weeks ago.

“Do you want something more comfortable to wear? I can give you one of my shirts.

Okay, so maybe he does want you to spend the night, “Yes, I'd like that.”

He grabs one from his bag and shakes it out. Then he brings it to his face to smell it, “this is clean.”

“Thanks,” you hold it up and look at it.

“It not very big on me, so it should fit okay.”

You head into the bathroom and look at yourself again, try to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down. Big breath in, slow breath out. It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to drive you crazy, but he’s doing a very good job.

You start taking off your necklaces, your bracelets, and then peel off your shirt that’s long since dried from the sweating you did all day. You check yourself for any offending odors, and even though it’s not bad, you take the time clean up the best you can.

It’s been a while since you had to do a sink bath before a potential lay. And every single one before this wasn’t even worth it. Seungmin is different, though.

Now you wonder if this is the way you want things to go. In a hotel, very little preparation. But you may not see him again for a while after tonight. And if this feels good for him, it's good for you.

There is still the possibility that he won’t be ready.

You slip into his shirt, and it's still pretty big. The sleeves reach your elbows and the bottom hem just covers your shorts. You could walk out without them and he might not even realize it—you take them off and fold them up neatly with your shirt and jewelry, look at yourself one more time, and then head back out to him.

“Oh, that looks good on you,” he turns from his seat at the edge of the bed, then pats his hands on the spot next to him. “Come here.”

As you climb onto the bed and crawl toward him, he slowly lies down on his back. “Are you tired?”

“No, not tired,” he props himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you. “Not yet...it takes a while to relax after a concert." He pulls at the hem of your shirt and his fingers slide across your thigh. He takes his hand away, so you grab it and put it back. Seungmin takes the hint and slides his palm to the side and gently squeezes.

When he looks up at you, you grin, but he just lets himself fall forward so he can hide his face in the blanket. You hear a big sigh, and maybe a soft laugh.

“What’s the matter?” You lie down next to him and wait until he turns his face to yours. “Minnie?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to get cozy and watch something?”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

You pull the blankets down and fluff the pillows while he gathers himself again. “Which side do you prefer?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t usually have to choose.”

“Okay, I’ll take the left side.” You cover yourself up and relax against the pillows.

Seungmin follows, but he stays on top of the blankets for a moment and stares at you. You stare back and say nothing. Then he crawls underneath them, too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You say.

He just pushes himself into the pillows and pulls the blanket up to his chin without a word, but he turns himself to face you.

You do the same.

“If that’s what you want.” He says.

You roll your eyes around as if you’re thinking and hmm under your breath. “Can I come closer?”

He nods.

You scoot yourself toward him until you can rest your forehead against his. “That’s better.”

“Can’t watch anything like this.”

“Oh, no I guess not,” you move back a little and look him over. “Should we—“

“No,” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back. “This is good.”

You take the invitation and place your hand on his neck; he moves in for a kiss before you get the chance to, though. And he kisses hard enough to push you on your back.

For a moment you think this might be it, but you find yourself hesitating and softening your kiss. Then loosening the grip on his neck.

He pulls back and stares down at you.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” you cup his face and hold him there. “There’s no rush.”

“I know.” He comes back down, kisses you once, and then falls back at your side. But his arm remains draped over your stomach.

Your heart sinks a little. It feels like you don’t know what you want. Well, you do know you want him, but you’re nervous. Maybe just as nervous as he is. “Don’t think I don’t want to, because I do.”

Seungmin smiles and sets his head against your shoulder. “I know you do.”

He knows you want him. You’re glad he knows—and you love the way he says it.

“Are you stopping because you’re worried I’m not ready?”

“No, only you know that. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“You’re nervous?”

“I am.”

“You can’t be nervous if I’m nervous.”

He’s right. You take a deep breath and turn to face him again. Kiss him on the lips. Your free hand snakes around his waist, finds the hem of his shirt, and tucks underneath to run over his skin.

His muscles tighten for a second, then slowly relax as your hand moves upward against his side and across his shoulder blade. He sighs as you touch him.

You haven’t felt this much of his body until now.

You keep going, touching his stomach, his chest. It’s then that you feel his hand on you. It’s warm moving across your thigh, over your hip. His touch is soft, but he squeezes when he pulls you closer.

Seungmin slides his hand down to the back of your thigh and brings you as close as he can manage.

He’s on top off you again, hand still on you. His hips are gently pushing into yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, and now your brain only wants one thing: to get them off of him.

“Seungmin,” you get him to look at you. “Seungmin?”

“Mhm?”

You pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

“Yeah?” He kisses your neck and lifts your shirt. “Are you okay?”

You nod and help him get it off.

“Oh,” he laughs and touches the spot directly below your sternum. “Tattoo.”

He looks over you slowly, a little shyly, before placing a kiss on your collarbone. You run a hand across the back of his neck. The other slides down his stomach until it reaches the band of his sweatpants.

Your heart beats wildly in your throat as your hand disappears. Fingers wrap around him and feel every inch. He whimpers softly into your neck. The hand buried in his hair moves down and kneads hard into his shoulder as your fingers stroke him.

Seungmin’s face is still in your neck, breathing hard. Eventually he takes a hand and maneuvers it to pull at his sweatpants. You let go to help slide them down enough to free him.

He moans, a little apprehensively, when you touch him again. You know you have to take it easy; he’s obviously very sensitive and you want this to last as long as possible for him.

“I like hearing you, don’t be shy.”

He tries to hold back an embarrassed laugh, but he does a bad job of it.

“Are you comfortable in this position? I could…do this with you on your back.”

He nods, but you don’t know which part he’s nodding to.

“Lie down.”

You let go of him until he’s on his back and relaxing. His face is still flushed and his breathing is a little shaky, but his eyes are almost closed. He seems relaxed enough. You kiss him and wrap your hand around him again.

His eyes open fully when you begin to stroke him again. His lips part and you slide your tongue against his.

The moans coming from him become a little louder. His hand lightly grips and slides down you arm.

“I didn’t really prepare for this. It could be better…if we had lube.”

“It feels good.” He whispers and smiles into your mouth. “Oh, I do have some.”

“Where?” You slow down a bit and let go of his lips. “I can grab it.”

“It’s…” he laughs sleepily, “it’s in my bag on the chair, in the smaller black bag.”

You climb over him and jump off the bed. The bag is is already open and a few things have been pulled out, but you can see a small black bag on the side. “I found it,” you unzip it and look around.

“It’s in the other little bag inside of that.” He laughs again. “Everyone is very nosy.”

You unzip the second bag, and there it is. It’s small, and still looks pretty full. You turn and look at him, “for when you’re lonely and horny on the road.”

He laughs again. “Yes, exactly.”

You warm a small amount in your hand and push the blanket down a little. You’ve touched him, but you haven’t really looked anywhere besides his lips and eyes yet. Now you watch your hand slowly move up and down , and the warmth and slickness makes everything so much better. You can feel how good it is for him. Your heartbeat drops into your stomach and you can feel yourself getting wetter every time he lets himself moan.

But as wet as you think you might be, his size is still more intimidating than you expected.

“You’re very good at this.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so soft.

“Yeah?”

He bites his lips and nods. “It feels so good.”

The room is warm, and the AC hasn't kicked on again. There are a few beads of sweat forming at his temple—you kiss him there and work your way down to his chest, then across his stomach.

The muscles tighten as you move across his hot skin, further and further down. When you slide your tongue across his head, he moans out the breath he’d been holding since you got to his chest. The sound he makes is desperate. He does it again when your lips close around him and your hand grips a little more tightly.

He wasn’t prepared for your mouth. He breathes out your name and it sends a wave of pleasure through you. His hand touches softly across your back and neck.

He says your name again.

“You okay, Minnie?” You kiss his stomach again and look up at him.

He nods and sits up, “can I touch you?”

You let go of him and straddle his stomach. He reaches for you and runs his fingers over the thin fabric. You put your hand over his and push your underwear to the side so he can feel you. There’s another, almost inaudible moan when he does.

Two fingers slip deep inside as you lean in to kiss him, and with your help, he gets the hang of moving inside of you.

You sigh sweetly into his mouth. You’re already much more sensitive than you normally would be. Every little movement he makes is causing just enough friction where you need it. The heel of his palm found your clit and you’re not sure he even realizes.

“I’m gonna come if you keep that up, wait a sec,” you stop his hand and take a deep breath.

“You are?” His voice cracks and he sits up more. His other hand has been digging into your hip, and he finally loosens his grip. There might be a bruise there later.

You grab his face and kiss him hard, then finally maneuver yourself out of your underwear while he’s there to keep you balanced. You reach behind and find his cock, stroke him a few times, and move back.

“Are you good if I…have a seat?” You laugh and wrap your other arm around his shoulder.

“Yes, very good,” he holds onto your waist to help steady you both.

When his head slides across you, he smiles and throws his head back. You do it again before carefully pushing him a little bit inside of you. It doesn’t take much to get another sound out of him.

“There’s a lot more to go,”

He looks drunk, but he smirks, “sorry.”

“For what?”

“For having a lot more to go,” he laughs.

“I’m not complaining.”

You push him deeper, just a little, because you’re not sure what your limit will be in this position.

And deeper. You watch him carefully. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open. You hold him tightly around the neck with both arms before slowly lifting yourself.

It takes a few more times before you find a rhythm , but when you do, you’re sure the sound Seungmin makes reaches the surrounding hotel rooms.

You try to quiet him with your mouth, but it only stifles him a little. You love the noise, but if the others are close enough to hear him, it might makes things awkward.

His hands hold your hips and slowly guide you up and down on his cock. You breath his name into his mouth, and he bites down on your lip.

His voice is a whisper. “Is it okay?”

“Yes,” you whine and push yourself as far down as you can. It stings, just a little, and only for a moment. “You feel so good.”

He leans back to watch himself slide inside of you, and the lusty, satisfied look on his face is making the ride even smoother. “Do I?” He takes your face in his hand and runs his thumb along your lips and cheek.

The room disappears and all that exists is the feeling of him; his breath on your neck, his voice in your ears. His hands grip you tighter, lifting you, and holding you steady when he fills you up again.

He’s not ready for it when you pick up your pace. His fingers dig hard into your hips—you hear him swear under his breath as he attempts to keep himself under control.

“Talk to me, I wanna hear your voice. Do you like it, Minnie?”

Seungmin kisses your neck, his lips graze over your ear, “yes,” he manages through the soft sounds he can’t hold back, “yes, fuck. You feel amazing.”

You pull him away and look at him, arms still wrapped firmly around his neck. One hand slides up and into his hair. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Under me, lost in it. I thought you were sexy before…but—“

“You think I’m sexy?” His smile is cute and tipsy, voice is airy. If it weren’t for you holding him up, he’d be flat on his back.

All of the sudden, you’re snapped back to reality. Seungmin is there, eyes wide, but the room is back. You’re no longer floating. You lost control and went a little too hard, and it hurt. You make a pained sound and all of your weight is on his shoulders.

“Did I hurt you?” He holds you up and pulls out, and you’re now relieved to be giving your burning thighs a break.

“No, no you didn’t,” You have to kiss him to get rid of the worried look on his face. “That was my fault.”

“We should change positions.”

You lay back on the pillows and grab his waist when he crawls over you. Your legs fall open and rest on either side of him.

“This is a bad angle for you to look at,” he smiles and hides his face in your neck.

You lift his face back up, “is that a joke? You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever had between my legs.”

He whispers a no and hides his face again, but at the same time, his fingertips slide down your thigh as if he’s teasing you.

”Sexiest…” you moan into his ear and wrap your legs around him to bring him closer.

You don’t need to give him any more direction. He explores you briefly with his fingers before guiding himself in the same way you did; slow and gentle.

“I’ll be careful…” he slides in easily in this position, stopping short to make sure he isn’t going too far.

You take his hips and carefully pull him in the rest of the way.

A rough groan jumps out of him when you meet. He stays there and looks at you until you brush the hair from his eyes and speak. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he smiles, looks down your body, then back up to your face. “Just like looking at you.”

“I’m the one with the view,” you kiss him and shift your hips, getting another sound out of him.

Now he’s finding a rhythm, but he’s much more reserved than you were. He seems to know his own limits, and maybe he’s trying not to overdo it and finish too fast.

“Is this okay?” He nuzzles into your ear and whispers before kissing you just below it.

“Yes,” your hands run up his sides and back, his neck, into his hair, “it’s perfect.”

He thrusts into you, very delicately, a few more times before slowing down. Then he stops completely, still inside of you. He’s breathing hard, eyes closed in concentration.

“Seungmin?”

“I just…need a few seconds.”

“Take your time,” you take his hand in yours and help his thumb find your clit.

He moves it in slow circles and watches you for any direction. But he does very well. He has a light touch, and a good pace. His hands are soft and warm. This, combined with him inside of you, looking down at you with eyes drunk with pleasure trying so hard not to come yet, is making everything happen very fast. But you don’t mind.

When he pulls out halfway and pushes back inside, you whimper and the pleased look on his face pushes you over the edge. He smiles and starts fucking you again, and he doesn't let up—you feel it coming. You moan much louder than you intend. He loves hearing it.

Your back arches up and your legs squeeze around him. It lasts a long time, and he doesn’t stop—just carefully touches you in the right spot until your body finally relaxes

“Wow…did you—”

You nod and try to catch your breath.

He doesn’t get through his question because it’s his turn. He comes hard and fast. The condom was completely forgotten up until this point, and he certainly doesn’t attempt to pull out. You don’t even allow yourself to dwell on it—you just enjoy the moment.

Seungmin’s mouth hangs open, and his eyes water. His moan is different this time; it’s more feral. His whole body tightens and moves in slow motion as his orgasm passes through him. He pumps into you until he can't take it anymore..

Then he’s catching his breath and regaining his composure. He comes down to kiss you, tucks an arm under your neck to bring you closer. He slowly pulls out and puts his weight on his knees.

“Come here…”

He listens and slowly lowers himself next to you. His hair is a little damp from sweat, and his face is pink. It’s a good look for him. You pull the sheet up and over both of you, then wipe at his brow with your thumb.

“That was nice,” he’s still catching his breath. His eyes close and you can see his body soften and relax on the pillows. “That was very nice.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“It was better than nice,” his eyes flutter open and he looks at you. Then he reaches out and pulls until there’s no space left between you. “It was much better than I thought it could be.”

“Wow,” you say into his neck. “That’s quite a compliment.”

“But I’m sorry, it’s probably not great that we didn’t use protection.”

“No, but I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

Someone’s phone buzzes.

“I think that was me,” Seungmin says and reaches behind him. His phone got lost somewhere underneath the blankets. As soon as he glances at the screen, he tosses it behind him again. “Are you going to stay the night?” He asks, arms tight around you again.

“I should get home before my mom starts to worry.”

He nods and tries to hide a pout.

“But you’re leaving in the morning, right?

“I think so, I’m not sure what time.”

“Would it be alright if I spent the night? So we can say goodbye.”

“Yes, that's a much better plan.”

“Can I use the shower?” You wiggle free of his grasp and look at him, “heat, concert, sex…that’s a lot to sleep in.”

Seungmin laughs and nods, “yes, go take a long hot shower.”

____

When you come back to the room, Seungmin is sitting at the desk writing. You can hear soft music playing from his phone. There are fresh clothes laid out on your side of the bed: the shirt you had on very briefly, and a pair of very comfy looking sweatpants.

“Are these for me?” You ask. He’s already cleaned up and redressed.

He closes his book he’s writing in and spins around in the chair, “yes, I’m sure they won’t fit very well, but they’re comfortable.”

“Thank you.” You drop your towel and pick up the shirt.

Seungmin stares at you as you pull it over your head, “what?” You laugh and grab the sweatpants. They are soft and they look expensive.

“Uhm, sorry…I didn’t see you without your bra before.”

You think he might be blushing.

“Oh!” You grab your chest, “I guess you didn’t. Come here.”

“Hm?” He smirks and walks toward you as you lift the shirt back over your head. “Oh…”

You take his hands and he immediately touches you, running his palms, and then his fingertips, over your nipples. They stiffen from his touch. He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls you closer, keeping one hand on your chest. The other runs down your side and over your ass. He squeezes and kisses the spot where your tattoo is.

This could turn into something very quickly, but right now you want nothing more than to get under the covers with him and sleep. You know he needs it.

“I like this,” he pulls at the hem of your shirt when you slip it back on. “You look cute in my clothes.”

____

It’s nice waking up next to him.

The room is still dark because the curtains are pulled shut, but not completely—little bits of sunlight make it in through the sides. You can see his sleeping face, cheek squashed against the pillow, lips slightly parted. He’s curled up tight in his spot with the blanket only covering his lower half, but one bare knee is far up enough to poke out.

His arm is reaching toward you, palm up and fingers curled. You slide your hand over the sheets and gently touch him. His fingers twitch and then close around yours.

He sighs deeply, then opens his eyes. First he looks at his hand holding onto yours, then his eyes move along your arm and up to where you’re laying on your pillow.

“Good morning,” he squeezes your hand and moves himself closer to you. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod and pull his hand up to your lips. “Did you?”

“Mhm, very well.”

“Did I tell you how amazing you were last night?” You ask and fluff his hair, “I mean…” you hide behind a hand, “I’m still asleep.”

“Well, I don’t know about…amazing.”

“The concert I mean!” you hide your face in the pillow, and Seungmin giggles as he tries to get you to look at him.

“I was okay I think.”

“The concert was…and you. I was focused on you the whole time.” You clarify as much as possible through your grin.

“You focused on Seungmin the whole time?”

“Yeah, the best part.

“And last night…last last night.” He smiles wide.

“Also focused on Seungmin.”

He pushes himself closer until his face disappears into your neck. “Thank you.”

A knock echoes through the room. Three heavy knocks. The voice that comes through is soft. “Seungmin, are you up?”

“Oh, it’s Lee Know. Stay here.”

You stay put and pull the covers up over your shoulders, but you turn to face the door. Seungmin opens the locks and pulls it open a few inches.

“What’s wrong? It’s still early.”

“I know, but I thought you might want to get breakfast,” Lee Know puts a palm on his side of the door and pushes, “can I not come in?”

“Uh, you can but…” Seungmin hesitates. “I’m not alone.” He gives in when Lee Know takes several steps into the room. He won’t be able to hide you for much longer.

“Oh,” he looks to the spot on the bed where you’re under a pile of covers. “Is it the girl, the one who was at the soundcheck?”

“Did IN tell you about her?.”

“No, Chan did. I should go. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to go,” you squeak out. You can just make him out from your spot, and when you pull the covers down from your nose, his whole body comes into view. Then you remember that one of them doesn't speak English very well, and you think it may have been him. You repeat yourself in Korean.

His eyes widen a bit. “Should we all get into bed, then?” He can be sarcastic and dry; you remember Seungmin mentioned that as well.

You sit up and look at him with a smirk on your face. “He’s the boss.” You nod toward Seungmin.

“You’re the boss,” Lee Know looks at Seungmin and winks. “Text me if you want to come.”

Now he turns to you, “nice to meet you,” he smirks and lets himself out.

Seungmin let’s out a long sigh when he’s gone.

“Come back to bed,” you move the blankets from his spot and fluff up his pillow. “Please.”

He listens and crawls back to your side. When he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, he says, “I was nervous about you meeting him.”

“Lee Know? Why were you nervous?”

“Am…am nervous, I guess.”

“You don’t think he’d like me?”

“The opposite, actually.” He hides his face in your chest and whines.

You oooh into his ear and it makes him giggle. “Does that tickle?” You move his hair and place a kiss there.

“I think you two are very similar.” Seungmin says. “You remind me of him sometimes, especially when we text.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he shakes his head, still shoved into your chest. “But, I just think you’d like him.”

You scoot yourself down until you’re face to face with him, but he still doesn’t lift his gaze. “Hey, look at me.”

He doesn't.

"Minnie?"

This time he listens, but he also gives you his best puppy eyes.

“You think I’ll get to know him and like him more than I like you?”

Seungmin nods.

“And that he’ll steal me away from you?”

He nods again, then stops and shakes his head, "You're not really mine to be stolen away..." he scrunches his face up in thought, wondering if his English made any sense.

“Well, I’m a little flattered you’d think someone else would like me that much. I’m much more flattered you don’t wanna have me stolen away.”

He rubs his eyes and sits himself up on the bed. “I’m sorry, I know we already talked about this.”

“We can talk about it again if you want to.”

He shakes his head and gets back under the covers. His hands find you and start to paw—at your side, your hip. He slides one down your outer thigh, and slowly back up. Then he starts to talk anyway. “He also knows Choonhee very well.”

“Okay, I think I'm understanding. I could have possibly been set up with Lee Know instead of Seungmin?”

You can hear his dramatic whine from underneath the covers. “It is very possible.”

“But I was set up with you for a reason. And you’re the first person I went on a date with since I left home, so I got very lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah, lucky. Good dates are hard to find.”

Seungmin pokes his head out from the covers and smiles at you. “I’m glad I was a good date.”

"You were a perfect date."

"You should call me Minnie more." He says it's softly, but his hands are in a dangerous spot. "All the time. I like it.

"You were a perfect date, Minnie."

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #kim seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #skz seungmin #skz fluff #skz smut #seungmin smut #seungmin fluff

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a Tall S/O

Warnings: Fluff, Implied Smut, Dominant Simon, Body Worship, Angst, Insecurity, Reassurance, Hurt/Comfort, Profanity, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.

It doesn’t matter if you’re even a centimeter smaller than Ghost; he’s going to call you every stout nickname under the sun.

‘Shorty’, ‘Shawty’, ‘Tiny Smalls’, ‘Little One’ – anything that comes to his mind.

If you’re taller than him, that changes nothing.

You’re still his little bean and he’ll treat you as such.

Throws you over his shoulder at any and every convenience (and inconvenience), claiming that he’s “Whisking you away.”

Usually to the bedroom.

If you even try to think about telling him that you’re insecure because of your height, Simon shuts that down immediately.

“Oh no, Love,” he says, voice dropping, eyes half-lidded. “You don’t get to feel anything unless I tell you to.”

He brings a hand to your chin, grips it between his fingers. Makes you look at him.

“Or do I need to remind you?”

Simon uses sex as a means of showing you how much he loves you; making you feel less insecure is a core aspect of his mission.

He doesn’t stop until your body’s shaking and you’re in tears, euphoria electrifying your every cell, until you believe all the ‘I love you’s and ‘You’re perfect’s he whispers into your ear.

He knows that just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you want to be a top.

If you do, he’ll let you, of course. Actively encourage it if you so desire.

But, regardless of your size, he’s still in charge. And he makes sure you know that.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned down while he destroys you, all the while telling you how beautiful you are, how he couldn’t ask for a more wonderful partner, how lucky he is to have met you.

Simon knows how difficult it can be to walk into a room and be the tallest person there, especially given how broad his frame is. The feeling of eyes on you is a heavy burden; he knows that more than most.

He always makes an effort to whisper in your ear if you catch anyone staring at you that “They’re just jealous because you look fuckin’ stellar in those jeans.”

Please wear tight-fitting clothes around him; they send him absolutely feral!!!

Your outline just does something to him that nobody else has managed to achieve before.

He knows you like to wear his clothes so he has some of his hoodies, pants and shirts set aside for you to wear whenever you please. He knows they’re more likely to fit and it’s a lot more convenient for you than having to visit three continents and a hundred stores trying to find clothes tailored to your size.

He becomes absolutely insatiable when you wear his clothes btw. He’s such a menace.

He’ll be all over you, telling you how gorgeous your thighs look peeking out from under his shirt you’re wearing.

P O S S E S S I V E.

He has a habit of body worshiping you. It comes naturally to him just as breathing does.

He just can’t help it; you send him absolutely insane with your body proportions.

It doesn’t matter to Simon one bit if you have short legs and a longer torso, or if you don’t match the image of the average supermodel with legs that you could drive a car along. Hell, it doesn’t matter if you do match the image of a supermodel; your body is perfect.

And the quickest way to a lesson in self-love is to let Simon know you need it.

And he’s not one to say no.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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cloudcountry · 3 months ago

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Please I need balor x farmer fic 🤭🤭🤭 thank you!!!

SUMMARY: how balor falls for you, and how you two get together

COMMENTS: @shinysparklesapphires spat this one out for you too

Balor seems like the type to fall for you whenever. Like, it’s not a flashy romantic moment, or a meaningful occasion, you just come up to his cart in the morning to check out his stock and gasp when you see a pretty gemstone or laugh when you see a silly article of clothing from the capital (“Balor, why on Earth do they wear stuff like this?”) and he finds himself frozen in place.

He can’t stop staring at you all of a sudden, your eyes seem brighter today and your laugh sounds happier, your skin looks so warm and inviting, his shoulders relax and his lips part, his eyes locked onto everything that makes you who you are, and he almost falls over. He stumbles weirdly, catching himself on the side of his cart with an awkward smile.

You ask him if he’s okay and he flushes bright pink, brow furrowing softly as his grin turns sappy, letting you know that he’s fine in the softest voice you’ve ever heard him use. It leaves you reeling, his usually plucky and cheerful voice smooth and gentle, and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and now you’re the one swallowing nervously and shuffling your feet against the dew-covered grass.

Wind chimes sing in the distance and you wrap up your conversation, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You say something about buying seeds at the General Store and Balor has half a mind to follow you like a lost puppy, but he doesn’t. If he’s going to woo you, he needs to spare some of his dignity. Not too much though.

The next morning he leaves you a bouquet of flowers that are out of season, knowing full well you’ll connect the dots. Months pass and he regularly drops hints about how he feels, but not without fidgeting and backtracking a few times. It takes everything in him not to do a silly triumphant dance when he sees a bouquet of flowers left on his cart, with a little card that says they’re from you.

He runs all over town, flowers in hand, searching high and low for you, He finally catches you coming out of the mines, backpack bulging with rocks and artifacts and monster loot. You jump when he calls you name, waving you over with a beaming smile on his face, cradling your bouquet like a baby. You laugh and run over to him, backpack thumping against your back.

Was gonna look for you as soon as I left the mines is what you say to him, taking your backpack off of your shoulders and placing it on the ground, digging through it until you find a bundle of pure sapphires, one or two perfect specimens thrown in the mix. Balor stands, slack jawed as you hold them out to him, a nervous smile on your face. You did all of that work, got all of those...for him?

“You’re astounding.” he breathes, heart pounding so hard he hears it in his ears, the blood in his body is rushing straight to his brain and he asks you out right then and there, confessing how long he’s adored you, how he wants to be with you officially now, promising to buy you a drink at the Inn. He sees you duck your head and smile nervously, accepting his offer without even a moment’s hesitation. He expects you to keep to yourself when you two arrive at the Inn, still riding the high of finally being together, but you burst through the Inn doors and shout that Balor is yours now, that you’re together, and he finds himself shrinking behind you in embarrassment.

The townsfolk take it in stride (after all, the atmosphere here has always been rowdy), clapping and congratulating the two of you. Some tease the embarrassed Balor, asking if he’s planning on sticking around now, moving in on the farm with you, getting a mining permit and taking care of the animals with you. Yearning takes root in Balor’s chest as he sees you laughing with Adeline and Eiland, and if he concentrates hard enough he can feel the soft skin of a cow under his fingertips.

It feels right. You feel right. And as you run back over and grab his hand, pulling him over to a cheerful Hemlock, Balor feels more at peace than he ever has in his life.

#auburn's fics <3 #auburn in mistria <3 #fom balor #fom balor x reader #fields of mistria #fields of mistria x reader #fields of mistria balor #fields of mistria balor x reader #balor x reader #gn reader

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sunonyoreface · 2 years ago

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He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 18

An: Thanks for your patience, March is a really busy month for me! The tension is building and I can't wait for the next part (19 is looking steamy).

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 2800

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of knives, mentions of death.

I think of all the phone calls I’ve made throughout my life. The hundreds of hours I’ve spent talking to friends and family. Sharing the exciting news of getting into college with my childhood best friend who moved away in elementary school. Gossiping with my favourite coworker about an awful shift when she didn’t open with me in the morning. Listening closer to hear the whispers of shared secrets between the few people I really care about. Talking late into the night about that one person I couldn’t scrub from my mind. The conversation slowly dying down but neither of us ready to hang up. Neither of us ready for the silence after the line goes dead. The relief of hearing their voice after days or weeks of nothing. All those conversations flicker through my mind as I stare at the landline sitting on Captain Price’s desk. It’s a clunky, faded, black thing with a rubber coil attaching the receiver to the phone and the numbers on the keys have long since rubbed off.

I’m not prepared to hear his voice. After learning all I know about him, I don’t think it’ll sound the same. There’s no way the man I’m about to speak to is the one I’ve known my whole life.

Soap was supposed to be here. Then five minutes ago, he was called out to demolitions by another sergeant who said it was “urgent”. I wasn’t sure what his specialty was until recently and after getting to know him better, it makes perfect sense. He spends almost every waking moment out there, yet won’t tell me what they’re doing. Whenever I ask, he sits up straighter and has to suppress his smile, but I don’t miss the excitement in his eyes when he says it’s classified.

Right now I’d rather be there with Soap than sat in front of Price and Ghost and some scrawny man with equipment hooked to that damn phone. I’d rather be almost anywhere than here.

The script crinkles in my hand. The Captain already gave the go-ahead. Now it’s all on me. I feel Ghost’s eyes on me. I want to find some comfort in them, but just can’t. After he left, he told Price about the mole. He had to, I get it, but I also can’t help the feeling that nothing I say will stay between us.

I wish I was back in his room, lying on top of the covers and reading his copy of Huckleberry Finn knowing that no one could get to me. Only Simon.

And then the phone is in my hand, pressed against my ear: ringing once, twice. And then it stops. Shuffling sounds fill the other line. Then, I hear his voice. That voice that softens when it speaks to me. That has always been so understanding. That ordered those men to mercilessly take the lives of innocent civilians praying for salvation.

“Y/n?” he asks, almost unsure – like the possibility of talking to me might just be too good to be true.

“Hi,” the word dad almost slips from my lips, but I know if it does, I won’t be able to keep it together. My hands don’t feel attached to my body. Like somewhere in the numb space of my forearms, they were simply disconnected. My mouth is dry and I eye the script, but can’t get the words to come into focus.

“Are you okay? Have they hurt you? Are you eating?” there’s just something to his voice, that I can’t quite pin down. Something disingenuous. Like he’s only playing the role of a concerned parent. When I meet Ghost’s eyes, I know he hears it too. He nods, urging me to speak.

“I’m fine,” my voice is strangely even. “They said I could see you again. That they’d make a trade,” the rest of my body disconnects from my mind and suddenly I’m standing beside Ghost watching myself talk on the phone. The hope in my voice is real. The girl on the phone is going to go home safely to her dad. And it sounds like she genuinely believes every word she’s saying.

“Oh my sweet girl,” he croons. “I want nothing more. Your mother and I have been worried sick.”

“Mom?” I latch onto the hopeful word. “Is she there with you?”

“No, but she’s somewhere safe, being guarded by some of our best. You’ll get to see her soon,” he purposely leaves out her location, unknowing of 141’s extensive intel.

“Dad, I-I,” just like in the script, Price audibly warns me we’re short on time. An intentional move to add more pressure to our conversation. My father will have heard him in the background. “They said I can’t talk much longer,” my tone is rushed and worried. I see a small smile tug on the corner of Price’s mouth. I’m convincing.

“Hey,” he says. “Soon enough we’ll have all the time in the world,” the ultranationalist who snuck into my room said he was displeased that I leaked the ambush info, but you’d never pick up on that while listening to him on the phone. He hides his cruelty so well. Even knowing what he’s capable of now, the man I’m speaking to just doesn’t sound like the type. “But y/n, I’m going to need to know what they want from us first. Okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble like a scared child. I smooth out the script across my thighs and read off their demands. I recite the names of five men. Two of their leaders and three of 141’s soldiers who were taken prisoner at one point or another. Neither my father nor my uncles are on the list. There’s no way they’d trade one of themselves for me. Even I know that.

“Those are the men they want?” I hear a newfound tension in his voice as he shifts in his seat.

“That’s what they told me to say,” my eyes are glued to the paper. If I look at Ghost or Price now, I’ll lose my concentration.

He sighs deeply, “I’ll need a few days little bird, those are some top dogs. But I’m going to get you out, don’t you worry.”

I sniffle as though this is too much. Like hearing his voice made me realize how much I miss him and now I might cry. “Love you,” my voice cracks.

“Love you too darling,” the line goes silent for just a moment. “I’ll be in touch,” with these words, his voice significantly deepens. He’ll be in touch. He has his ways of contacting me despite 141’s precautions. I should expect a shadowy visitor very soon.

Then he hangs up. I place the phone back on the mount. Horror creeps its way up my shoulders and I know I’m back in my own body.

“Well done,” Price congratulates me. He’s surprised I did so well. I don’t come off as the type of person to perform well under pressure – I normally don’t – yet the phone call was almost flawless.

“Thank you,” I attempt a small smile, but inside, I feel awful. Dirty. Blindsided. I can’t believe that is the same man I’ve known my entire life. Sinking betrayal anchors my bones to the depths of the Mariana Trench. The immense pressure makes my head feel as though it’s about to implode upon itself. But along with the shame I now carry because of our kinship, there’s also molten anger stirring within my core, threatening to erupt.

“Thank you, Sergeant, you’re dismissed,” Price turns to the man who recorded the call and waits for him to leave. Ghost hasn’t said a word almost this entire time. Yet he closely watches the man leave with his equipment as suspicious as ever. He doesn’t trust a soul. Especially now. “Within the next few days, your little friend will pay another visit. We’ve installed another camera outside your door and tapped the room. Tell him the truth, just like he asked, we don’t need to aggravate them further, but it is essential he doesn’t think you snitched again,” Price’s tone has turned serious. He understands the gravity of the situation.

The ultranationalist could decide to kill me if he thinks I snitched again. He would certainly order the execution of my friends back home. While Price doesn’t care about them, he needs me alive. They won’t have the opportunity to ambush the Ultranationalists without me alive for a supposed exchange.

“Any questions?” he asks. For once, I have none.

“No sir.”

“Right. Ghost, your request is approved. Take the afternoon to complete it. Return her to her quarters before 1800,” he nods once toward the lieutenant. And then we’re off.

I don’t know why, but I expected him to say something as we navigate the halls. However, like usual, Ghost is completely stoic.

When we first met, I was always silently instructed to walk in front of him. Ghost was suspicious of me. Despite being cleared by intel, part of him still considered the possibility that I could be an Ultranationalist. By walking behind me he eliminated any chance of a surprise attack. His analytical eyes would trail up and down my frame trying to decipher any hidden motives. He’d take note of the length of my stride. How I hold my head, my shoulders. How my hands fidgeted and I picked at my nails and then my cuticles once they were too short.

Something has changed since then. A lot has changed.

Now I walk beside him. Close, but not close enough that our arms brush. Not close enough to attract suspicion. He no longer glares at me like I could turn on him at any moment. There’s so much more depth to his eyes when they steal small glances my way. Sometimes – like now as we walk along the sparsely populated halls - I feel him step closer so we’re almost touching, the heat of each other’s body is just noticeable, before he reminds himself that someone could come across us at any moment. Then, after a brief moment of indulgence, he once again shifts away to a more professional distance. I sense the same kind of longing pulses through his veins as mine.

My thoughts are interrupted as we continue to walk past my room.

“Aren’t you dropping me off?” the confusion is evident in my voice as my pace slows. Ghost turns to look at me while keeping his pace.

“No. We’re training,” he says. Training? Is this the request Price mentioned earlier? What kind of training is he referring to? What is Ghost planning?

“We are?”

“Affirmative,” he confirms. His long legs are hard to keep up to as they stride with purpose.

“What kind of training?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” Ghost says. And if I’m not mistaken, I almost detect a hint of teasing in his voice.

Yet, Ghost doesn’t take me to a gym or shooting range, instead, he leads me right back to his quarters.

“Is this a joke?” suspicion is evident in my voice. I hesitate as he waits for me to enter first.

“Negative,” the curt response is typical. He isn’t about to volunteer any additional information.

“What could we possibly train for in your room?” my mind involuntarily wanders to a variety of things, but none that will help with the exchange. As I make eye contact with him, my cheeks flush almost immediately. Ghost’s gaze is strong and unwavering. He knows exactly where my thoughts have drifted.

“I’ll show you,” he motions to the door. A small ball of nervous energy forms in my lower stomach. The type that has no place being here right now. The type that’ll get me into trouble. “First, I want to know your thoughts on the phone call?”

“I don’t want to think about the phone call,” I say as I leave him behind in the hall. Once inside, he takes his vest off and hangs it on the back of the door. Facing away from me, he slips off the skull mask and quickly replaces it with a plain black balaclava. My whole body freezes at the sight. I can’t believe he just took it off in front of me. His hair is darker than I thought it’d be. The strands are a stark contrast against his fair eyelashes. He wears it clean cut like most men in the military, short on the sides and more forgiving on top. But it’s overall longer than I imagined. My mind drifts to what it would feel like to run my fingers through the delicate strands. To gently trace my nails along his scalp. To roughly grasp him by the hair as he–

“It’s not often Price congratulates someone on their performance,” Ghost’s head tilts as he gauges my response. I don’t speak, my mind still stuck on the fact he took his mask off in front of me, even if I couldn’t see his face. “You were almost as good there as you were during the interrogations,” he continues. Heat creeps up my neck. I don’t know if it’s a feeling of flattery or embarrassment.

“I’m not good at it. It feels like I’m not even there,” like the actions aren’t even my own. It’s a dangerous feeling. How far can a person go when they don’t feel responsible for their actions? How far could I go?

“But you know you are?” his tone becomes mildly concerned. Does he think I’m slipping from reality?

“I know I am. It’s just easier to separate myself from what I’m doing,” I think out loud, my voice slowly fading toward the end of my sentence. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of protecting myself?

“Y/n, if it’s too much let me know,” Ghost says seriously as a gloved hand reaches out and touches my chin. It has been too much since the moment they kidnapped me. But now all I can do now is figure out how to survive until the exchange is over. “For this too.”

The second half of his sentence catches my attention.

“And what is ‘this?’” what does he keep alluding to?

Ghost’s delicate hand on my chin leaves as he reaches for something strapped to his belt. The gloved hand unsheathes a steel knife. He flips it around and offers the handle to me. I hesitantly take it from him, all the while closely watching his eyes. There’s a glint to them. Something troublesome. At this point, his intentions could be anything.

“What’s your safe word?” his husky voice is suddenly a lot lower as he takes a step backward and squares his shoulders. There’s an ambiguous spark in his eyes. One that’s about to catch fire. I can almost smell the damp, smouldering smoke in the air.

“Safe word?” my breath catches in my throat and I try to force a swallow. I choke back a nervous laugh. He’s joking, right? The knife feels unnatural in my hand.

“Think of one, sweetheart,” he rasps. There’s that damn name again. The one that makes it so fucking hard to think. My mind snags on it like a loose thread to a nail, pulling every thought out of order. Only he can mend me.

“Um, I don’t – Soap, I guess?” his call sign comes to mind first.

“Not Soap. Something different,” his head juts to the side with disapproval.

“Okay. Fine. Pizza then,” I’m still confused as to why he wants me to have a safe word.

“Pizza,” Ghost repeats to himself, burning it to memory. He takes another step back and I almost feel myself relaxing. My shoulders don’t feel so tense. The knife is no longer so heavy. I glance down at the mean little thing in my hand. I wonder how many people have died by this blade?

Ghost doesn’t wait for my eyes to return to his. From the edge of my peripheral, something large lunges at me. He’s incredibly fast. Just a flash of movement in the dim light. Fear hasn’t had the chance to take over yet. Instinct kicks in and I jump back out of the way, just narrowly escaping his first attempt at grabbing me. But there’s nowhere to go. The room is small and he’s closer to the door than I am. He wants me to fight. He’s forcing me to.

“The fuck are you doing?” I angrily spit at him as I corner myself between the dresser and wall, knife still in hand.

Ghost looks as terrifying as ever as he shifts to face me once more. His intimidating frame takes up the entire walkway between the bed and dresser. Those thick shoulders heave along with his chest as his breathing deepens. His gloved hands stay open at his sides, eager to grab at me again. Ghost’s sharp eyes look darker than before. He is completely locked in on me.

There is no escaping what comes next.

Pt 19:

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