#I’ll add more skips when I think of them
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causticsodaa · 18 hours ago
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Thank you, @lonelyzoneo! I’ve been meaning to write about Kaji for a while, so I’m happy to take this request.
To preface, I mainly think that Sakura and Kaji are cut from the same cloth, rather being two sides of the same coin (I believe Endo/Chika fits that idiom more). Their stories are quite literally direct parallels of each other, and their experiences/personalities aren’t so different lol.
Starting off with their backgrounds:
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Initially, both boys were shunned due to ‘unsightly’ aspects of themselves; with Sakura and his appearance/unruly behavior while Kaji would regress into his beast mode. Kaji did manage to suppress it with the help of Hiiragi, however Sakura had nobody to rely on (though I won’t be surprised if he has a secret mysterious ‘savior’ like Ume and Kaji did).
Speaking of Hiiragi, he’s saved both Kaji and Sakura from dire situations in battle.
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After they both started attending Furin, both Sakura and Kaji were unceremoniously elected as a class leader by their peers:
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And their close friends (Enomoto + Kusumi and Nirei + Suo) elect themselves as vice captains.
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During their first year [of leadership] however, they get into a drastic situation (being outnumbered by enemies) that manages to push them to a corner, ie. regress (Sakura blames himself for not being able to help the others in KEEL, Kaji turns back into the beast in his flashback)
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These incidents causes them to be shrouded in doubt and insecurity, believing that they are not worthy enough to be a class leader.
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They then visit their upperclassmen for advice (Sakura asks Kaji, while Kaji talked with Hiiragj the year before). Both give their underclassman different advice, but Hiiragi/Kaji ultimately reassure them that their negative perceptions on themselves does not mean that their friends share the same views. Coffee/green tea is also prevalent in these scenes but tumblr wont let me insert any more images so I can’t analyze them; just think of this tidbit as an honorable mention
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When Sakura and Kaji finish talking with their upperclassmen, they return to their own classrooms and apologize to their friends.
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Though, this apology garners different reactions from the two classes. 2-1 decided to shoulder Kaji’s burden with him:
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But 1-1 drill it into Sakura that they genuinely like him as a person, which is something that Sakura needed to hear the most then.
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This makes both Sakura and Kaji reflect on themselves. They then decide that they want to stay at Furin to protect and be with their friends despite their own setbacks in the end. Both these sequences have a dreamlike feel to them, too:
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However, both boys also regress to their ‘original’ selves during Noroshi. When Banjo hits Enomoto and Kusumi, Kaji begins to LARP as a furry turn back into a beast, even though he tried his best to not let his feral instincts take over him. Endo also uses Sakura’s friends against him, convincing him that he’s merely a burden to them—this causes Sakura to revert back to his more ‘insecure’ self, believing that he has no place amongst his friends, even though he cares for them deeply.
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Tumblr wont let me add any more images, so I’ll be skipping to the extras section. Feel free to add any other parallels between Sakura/Kaji in the reblogs (because I can’t)
Both Kusumi/Enomoto (and Hiragi) and Suo/Nirei visited their captains at their homes at one point
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Both also vibrate when they’re freaked out, lol
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Both Sakura and Kaji have sparred with Hiragi at one point too (I sure wish I could show this in my post so just take my word)
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transjess · 1 day ago
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“Crowley,” Sam says. “I am not marrying you.”
“Just hear me out,” Crowley says, holding his hands up. “This could be good for both of us, right? Just sit your giant arse down and listen to me for a minute.”
Sam glowers, but he’s always been curious, and the desire to know what the hell Crowley is on about wins over his instant dismissal. “You have a minute,” he says, lowering himself into a bunker chair. “One minute.”
“How generous,” Crowley says, but he doesn’t waste any time. “Look, Sam, neither of us wants Abaddon in charge, right? Alone you can’t defeat her, Cassie over there’s about as much use as a dodo, and as much as I hate to say it I’m not entirely confident I can beat her either. Wherever Dean’s buggered off to, he's not helping right now. But united, together, we have a chance.”
“Where the hell does marriage come into this?” Sam interrupts.
Crowley holds up a hand. “Patience, Moose,” he says. “I was getting to that.”
“Get to it faster,” Cas says.
“Down, boy,” Crowley says, unbothered. “Marriage comes into it because a lot of demons are sticklers for tradition, right? The only reason Abaddon has so many dogs in her corner is because they think that because she’s got the better claim to the throne, she’s more powerful - the Lucifer loyalists switched over to her, because she’s the closest they’ve got to him. A Knight is higher up the traditionalist food chain than a crossroads demon, no matter how efficiently Hell runs under my rule. Now, who else has a claim to the throne? Say, one directly related to Lucifer?”
“Me,” Sam says, starting to understand.
“Bingo. The demons loyal to me like the way Hell’s run, and the rest think I don’t have a claim to the throne strong enough to go against Abaddon. Even if they’re not traditionalists themselves, they think Hell will fall back to a more traditional rule, and they don’t want to be on the old girl’s bad side when that happens. But if I was allied with, say, the Boy King of Hell, true vessel of Lucifer? A lot of them would switch sides. And that would be huge.”
“Why marriage?” Cas asks. “Just sign a- a truce, or something.”
“What is marriage if not a contract?” Crowley says, spreading his arms a little and grinning. “A truce that isn’t binding isn’t worth the paper it’s written on, Feathers. And we can’t just be allies in this - full offense, Moose, but you’ve got quite the history of trying to kill me the moment I stop being completely useful to you. I’m not trusting your good word as far as I can throw it, mate. With a contract, I can make it a little more… binding. Historically, marriages have been uniting political allies for hundreds of years - what better nod to the traditionalists among the demon populace than a marriage between the current King of Hell and the destined Boyking? It’s a contract that goes off with a bang. I get to strengthen my position, you get to cash in a little of that Devil clout with any demons you come across - wouldn’t it be easier if they had to obey you? Skip past all that recitation and stabbing and whatnot? Quick and easy exorcisms, all for the low, low price of marrying me. Best of all, this contract wouldn’t even touch your soul. Not that I’d want it, mind you; the thing’s a mess. But regardless, all you have to hand over is… well, your hand. It’s a win-win.”
“You’re insane,” Sam says flatly. Cas hums in consideration.
“You wouldn’t have to take any interest in Hell itself, by the way,” Crowley adds. “I’ll run the whole shebang. Contracts, demon management, soul counts, all of that. You won’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. Just keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing - without the threat of demon usurpation and Abaddon takeover quite so weightily on my mind - and all that’ll be different is a ring on your finger and a ‘til death do us part. I’ll even let you read over the vows before the day. Just so you can make sure I’m not up to anything sinister.”
“You’re always up to something sinister,” Sam says, ignoring Crowley pretending to blush and bat his eyelashes. “I just don’t get your angle on this one. Marriage, of all things.”
“Well it’s not exactly ideal for me either,” Crowley says, rolling his eyes. “As much as I love to rile you up, I’m after a quiet life, no nagging wife telling me to clean up entrails after myself when I get home from work after a long day, etc etc. Though I suppose you’d make a decent little housewife, Samantha, all things considered.”
“Shut up,” Cas says before Sam can. Glad we’re on the same page, Sam thinks wryly.
“Look, Sam,” Crowley says, and he looks so completely serious for a moment that it’s almost startling after the faux-flirty banter. “Just think about it, alright? This could be good for both of us. And don’t worry,” he adds, switching back to flirty, lips curling up at the corner. “I won’t even expect you to consummate the marriage.” He winks, grinning, and then disappears. Cas scowls.
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alastorssimpforever · 2 months ago
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Definitely not motivated by any shipping wars and nonsense I’ve seen on the internet.
Come on guys. Let’s just have fun
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sincerely-sofie · 9 months ago
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I’m the anon that sent in all the Ruby stuff! It makes me so happy that you love her so much. I didn’t expect her to be such a beloved character to you and I was kind of nervous that you would have hated her tbh. ^^;
Something Ruby related — I had a fic about Twig and co. confronting the siblings before I ultimately scrapped it because I could not write villainous characters without making them feel cliché. I do remember this one line said by Ruby’s sister when she lashes out towards Twig:
“You wouldn’t get it. You have a cushy life style and you baby your daughter instead of actually raising her. We’re doing that ungrateful, spoiled brat a favor — we’re teaching her how to survive. You wouldn’t know the meaning of that with that silver spoon in your mouth.”
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I don’t blame you for struggling with not making the siblings feel cliché— writing villainous characters gets 900x more difficult the second you don’t want to make them sympathetic. Ark was fairly simple for me to write, even in scrapped scenes where he was all-in with his villainous role during the events of the post-game. Twig’s aunt, meanwhile, gave me a heck of a hard time while I was developing her backstory.
#this anon (while offering the most precious character to me free of charge): I hope Sofie doesn’t hate this character :/#meanwhile I am foaming at the mouth from how much I love Ruby and everything she adds to the AU#on a semi-related note I’ve been debating whether or not to make Twig evolving into a charizard officially canon#it’d be a neat idea but I’d miss drawing her as a charmeleon :<#I think if she DOES end up evolving it would be during her pursuit of Ruby’s siblings.#they’d bolt when they realized they’re outmatched by a world-class explorer who’s also a ticked off mother#and they’re able to run much faster than she is able to.#they’re fine. they just need to put a little more distance between them and those maniacs and then keep their heads down for a while—#—change up the disguises they use and skip town when the coast is clear. they’re fine.#they can go grab Ruby and teach her a lesson for giving them so much trouble after the heat dies down.#Meanwhile Twig has sprouted wings and is rapidly closing in on their location whilst lit on fire.#it’d be a fun parallel if this is how things play out; Grovyle evolved from a treecko during an attack so he could protect Twig.#Now Twig is doing the same for one of her own loved ones.#not sure if I’ll make it canon but it sure is fun to think about!#the present is a gift au#shadow baby AU#pmd darkrai#pmd ocs#pmd oc#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokémon mystery dungeon#pmd#sofie answers asks#stuff by sofie
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elixirfromthestars · 2 months ago
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By The Warmth Of The Oven
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.
Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?
a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡
bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆
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“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 
“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 
“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 
Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 
“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 
“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.
“In the kitchen?”
“With you.” 
Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.
You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.
“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.
He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 
When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 
“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.
“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”
“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”
“Bucky!” 
You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 
Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 
You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.
“Looks like I was right.” 
“Huh?”
“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 
“That's the liquor talking.”
“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”
You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.
“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.
“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 
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spider-stark · 4 months ago
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EVERYTHING
Kaz Brekker x Reader
Summary - Kaz Brekker doesn't make any sense—and trying to understand him is getting to be exhausting.
Warnings - fem!reader, reader worked at a brothel, subtle hints at past abuse, some major dog / master symbolism idfk, mentions of blood/weapons, close proximity, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED SO IF THERE'S A TYPO IDK
Word Count - 3.8k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
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“Touch me.” 
You’ve only just slipped inside Kaz Brekker’s room at the Slat, and you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. The door’s still cracked, after all—and the mindless clamor of those playing cards down in the foyer is loud enough to play tricks on anyone’s ears. 
You push the door shut, habit making you click the lock into place before spinning around to face him. “Pardon?” 
The lanterns burn low, dim light chasing shadows across the spacious attic. Kaz stands over by his desk, leaning his weight against the edge in lieu of his cane. He’s dragging a gloved hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically flustered. 
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” he snaps. 
Your laugh comes out breathy and awkward. “We both know I’m a shit actor, Brekker.” 
It’s why you’re never picked when the Dreg’s need a decoy—some girl to saddle up next to a sleazy merchant or another hapless mark, distracting them with batted lashes and a well-timed hand on their thigh. In Jesper’s words, you’re so socially inept that you’d probably blow the operation before it even got started.
To your dismay, Kaz doesn’t repeat himself. With his gaze carefully pinned to the tops of his black boots, he demands, “Why are you here?” 
Your brow quirks. “At the Slat?” 
“In my room.” 
The answer eludes you. Why did you come up here? It’s not like tonight was the first time Dirtyhands has ever skipped out on playing Blackjack with the rest of the group, and yet he’d caught your attention when he slipped from the foyer and went limping up the stairs. 
Then again, that’s not so surprising. Kaz always catches your eye, doesn’t he? 
In the year since you joined the Dregs, you’d earned an unfortunate nickname for yourself around the Barrel: The Bastard’s Pet. Wherever Kaz Brekker goes, you’re sure to be hot on his heels, following after him like a dog, loyal and clingy. 
You tell yourself it’s because that’s your job—to keep Kaz safe, to watch his six. But the devil’s got eyes in the back of his head, and you know Kaz Brekker doesn’t really need protection. 
So, it begs the question: Why are you here? In his room, at the Slat, as a member of the Dregs? Why does he keep you around? 
Unsure of the answer, you simply avoid giving one. 
“You should play games with them sometimes,” you tell him, giving a subtle nod over your shoulder. Their voices are muffled now, but you can still hear everyone downstairs exchanging jeers as they shuffle another round. “It makes you look like a recluse, always sneaking off to be by yourself.” 
Kaz drums one finger against the desk. It’s an erratic beat, following no set rhythm. “I am a recluse,” he grinds out. 
You almost snort. Clearly. 
It’s not like anyone joins a gang with the hopes of making friends—and none of the Dregs are dumb enough to think they’ll find a buddy in the infamous Dirtyhands, anyway. Still, you don’t think it’d kill him to try being a little more sociable. 
The others would like having him around. 
You like having him around. 
“I’ll ask one more time.” Dark eyes flick up, heavy as stones when they land on yours. Suddenly, the large attic feels awfully claustrophobic. “Why are you here?” 
A lie comes easily enough, slipping right through your teeth. 
“I got bored playing,” you tell him. “And Jesper’s cheating, anyway.” 
“They’re all cheating,” Kaz points out. 
“But Jesper’s bad at it,” you argue. Lifting a shoulder, you add, “It ruins the fun.” 
His finger falls still against the desk, ceasing its rhythmless beat. Warm light flickers all around him, dark shadows dancing over the harsh angles of his face. You watch his jaw tick, note the subtle curl of his upper lip. You’re overcome with the distinct feeling that you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 
Probably because you are. 
You’ve seen this face before. Been the one to clean the bloody mess left behind by whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of it. Now, as the one standing in the line of fire, you feel your stomach start to twist. 
You tell yourself it’s dread. Anxiety for what’s to come. 
“From where I was standing,” Kaz grinds out, his stare unflinching, “you looked to be having plenty of…” A sharp breath, his tongue gliding over pearly teeth. “Fun.” 
There’s something hidden in the word. A meaning that goes well beyond its dictionary definition. Is it a challenge? A dare, maybe? Or—perhaps the most unlikely of the options—some sort of plea? 
“And what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, finally daring a step closer, slowly drifting from the closed door. 
Kaz shakes his head. “It means what it means.” 
As you draw closer, he moves around the desk and takes a seat. He stretches his bad leg out in front of him, mindlessly rubbing a hand down toward his knee. It’s always bothering him by this point in the night. 
“Go back downstairs.” An order—not a suggestion. 
Across from him now, you place both palms on his desk. The smooth wood is cool against your skin, though the rest of you feels impossibly warm. It’s a side effect of standing too close to him, you think. The flushed cheeks and the vice around your lungs, always leaving your mind fuzzy and your pulse erratic. 
You hate him for it, sometimes. For the effect he has on you. 
“Why?”  you ask, riding out your little bold streak. “So you have a reason to gripe some more about me having fun?” 
“I’m not griping,” Kaz shoots back, very evidently griping. 
“Griping, carping, quibbling, or complaining—doesn’t matter how you word it, all of 'em fit you to a T right now, Brekker.” 
He’s not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the swirling patterns of the wood grain or the neat stack of papers or anything else that gives him an excuse to keep his head low. A month or so after you joined the Dregs, Kaz told you that you had a talent for getting under his skin. Maybe that’s why you don’t need to be able to see his face to know just how annoyed he looks. 
“Go downstairs.” 
“I will,” you vow. “After you explain what you meant.” 
Frustrated, he insists, “There’s nothing to explain.” 
“What did you say when I came in?” 
“Go downstairs.” 
You throw your hands up. “If you won’t tell me what you said, then at least explain why ‘fun’ is such a problem!” 
“Go. Down. Stairs.” 
“Make me.” 
Wood screeches, the chair flying back as he shoots to his feet. The stiffness in his leg makes the movement a little clumsy, and you don’t miss the subtlest flash of a wince before he leans against the desk. 
“Do you know why I brought you in?” 
For a moment, it’s all you can do to blink at him. Because, no—you don’t know why Kaz offered you a place with the Dregs. 
You’re not a sharpshooter like Jesper or a trained Grisha like Nina, not as smart as Wylan or as silent as Inej. You’re decent when it comes to sleight-of-hand and slightly above average with a blade, but even those skills are ones you’ve only learned since joining the gang. 
Back when you first met Kaz, you were nothing and no one. An unlucky girl roped into an indenture with Pekka Rollins, forced to work out of the Sweet Shop—the nastiest, most dangerous brothel in all of Ketterdam. 
“Because you’re secretly a big softie with a heart of gold?” You hope your sarcasm is enough to mask the twinge of shame brought on by your past. 
But Kaz is too good for that. Nothing gets past him—evident by the tiny wrinkle of concern that forms between his dark brows, instantly picking up on the faint dip in your tone. 
Fortunately for you, being observant doesn’t equate to being consoling, and so he doesn’t mention it. 
“Because you didn’t make me sick,” he answers, low and even. You’re not so sure if it’s an insult or compliment, and before you get a chance to ask, Kaz continues, “It was late. And raining. I’d just finished teaching a Razorgull lackey what happens when you breach parley. He was a real bleeder—made a mess of my suit. I ended up leaving him for Jesper to deal with. Thought I’d avoid eyes by sticking to the shadows, walking in the alleys behind the brothels.” Your eyes must be betraying you, because you almost think that’s a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Imagine my surprise when a runaway harlot nearly knocked a helpless cripple like me off his feet.” 
You bite your cheek, still deciding if you want to slap him for calling you a harlot or laugh in his face. In spite of his limp and cane, Kaz Brekker is far from what you’d consider helpless. 
“So, what? You had me join the Dregs because I nearly bulldozed you in an alley?” That whole night was spotty for you, the panic you’d felt having rendered your memory foggy and incomplete. 
“Inej had told me about you,” Kaz says. “That Pekka Rollins got a new girl—an escape artist, always trying her luck at running away.” 
You didn’t know that, but maybe you should have. Inej isn’t the best spider in the Barrel without reason. She knows everything—and all she knows is reported directly to Kaz. Even so, you’re not sure you’re catching his point with all this. 
As if he can see you trying to mentally connect the dots, Kaz says, “Maybe I had another purpose in walking behind those brothels. Maybe I wanted to see just how quick on her feet Pekka Rollins’ escape artist was.” His head tilts slightly. “Or maybe I just didn’t want anyone to see me when I wasn’t looking my best. Either way, I left that alley knowing you’d be a part of my crew.” 
Your memory of that night may be spotty, but the one after is still crystal clear. A Suli spider had crawled through your window at the Sweet Shop, told you that Per Haskell was willing to pay a very hefty sum to buyout your indenture if you agreed to work for the Dregs. To this day, you’re still unsure of how Kaz managed to convince him you were worth it—or why he bothered. 
“You’re not making any sense, Brekker,” you admit, rubbing at your temple. A headache burrows there, seeming to grow worse with every minute. “Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? Cause I’m… fast?” 
It sounds stupid. It is stupid. 
You’re no faster than anyone else—and you certainly hadn’t been fast enough to outrun Pekka Rollins’ goons. Everytime you made a run from the Sweet Shop, they dragged you right back, kicking and screaming the whole way. 
“No.” Kaz sighs. Drags a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. “I wanted you-”
Kaz doesn’t finish that thought. 
A violent CRASH! steals your attention. Both of your heads snap toward the closed door, listening intently for any sign of danger.
Instead, you hear Jesper’s boisterous cackle chime. Wylan starts shouting about something indiscernible—vase, shattered, and moron among the words you catch.
A smile sneaks up on you. 
But, when you turn back to Kaz, it’s promptly wiped away. 
He looks like he’s had a lemon rind forced into his mouth, scowling at the door. “What’s going on with you and Van Eck?” 
You blink. “What?” 
“You heard me.” 
You did—but hearing him is a far stretch from understanding him, and it’s seemed like Kaz has been talking in circles since you came in. What’s Wylan have to do with any of this? 
“I don’t get what you’re asking.” 
“Stop making me repeat myself.” 
“Then stop being so confusing, Brekker!” you huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand-”
Kaz cuts you off with a look. Cold as death, he grinds out, “Are you fucking him?” 
Shock. Confusion. 
They course through you in equal measure, coupled with slight amusement. The latter must show on your face, because Kaz’s scowl deepens before he looks down at his desk, pretending to fiddle with something. 
“I have work to do,” he says stiffly. “Go downstairs.” 
Your feet stay firmly planted, the desk’s width all that separates the two of you. “Why would you think that?” 
Of all the assholes and degenerates in the Dregs, Wylan’s probably the closest you have to a real friend. It came with the territory—both of you having become newbies around the same time, trying to learn the ropes and fit in. 
You’re not fucking him, though. 
Kaz sinks back into his chair. His usually-squared shoulders curve slightly, as if some weight is pressing down on them. “Go downstairs.” 
“I thought you didn’t like repeating yourself?” you ask, almost taunting. 
“Go.” The word strains between his teeth. “Now.” 
For no good reason, you make a stand. Stare down the barrel of the gun, unafraid and unrelenting. How strange, you think. The tightness in your chest has never once been apprehension. 
It was excitement. Anticipation. 
You’ve always liked getting under his skin. Finding out what makes him tick, figuring out which words earn the sharpest glares. You want him to pull the trigger, if only because it means you have his attention—and like a dog waiting at its master’s feet, you could care less if it comes with an open hand or a closed fist. 
So long as it comes. So long as he notices you. 
“What did you say when I came in?” You uncross your arms, make yourself stand up tall. “Tell me.” 
Dark eyes shoot up. Kaz almost looks shocked, the dull echo of emotion creasing the lines of his face, parting his lips. You wait, but no sound comes out. 
Dirtyhands is used to giving orders. Not taking them. 
“You’ve heard what they say about me.” You wave a dismissive hand toward the shoddy window overlooking the Barrel. “Brekker’s Pet. Always with you, always following you around! Ask any sod in Ketterdam and they’ll say the same—the only way I’d have time to fuck someone is if you were in the room!” And even then, it wouldn’t be Wylan. 
A steel rod takes the place of Kaz’s spine, turning your words over in his head. “Fine. Maybe you haven’t,” he relents. “But you want to.” 
It’s a gamble. An unusually shitty one, at that. 
You blow out an exasperated breath. This whole thing is getting old. “Saints, Kaz. What’s your deal?” 
He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then opens it again. 
“I saw you downstairs,” he says. “Touching Van Eck.” 
Your brows lift, fists clenching. You don’t know what you expected from him, but it certainly hadn’t been a bold-faced lie! 
But then you start thinking of the moments before you saw Kaz head upstairs, laughing and playing Blackjack before you folded your hand to follow after him. You’d been sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug, wedged between Wylan and Raske, when you noticed—Shit. 
Kaz is right, and that makes you want to scream. Why is Kaz always right? 
It was after you noticed Jesper was cheating, that he’d poorly marked the deck with daub; a sticky, ash-colored substance. You’d leaned in close to point it out to Wylan—your hand against his forearm, your lips dangerously close to the Merchling’s ear. After he noticed the marks, you both exchanged quiet giggles over just how bad Jesper was at swindling. 
Still, there had been nothing sexual about it. Nothing between you and Wylan. 
But, even if there was, why would Kaz care? 
I saw you—touching Van Eck. His words race through your mind, pulsing in time with the dull ache in your temple. Touch me, touch me, touch me. 
All of a sudden, the fog begins to clear. Something in your memory clicks. 
That night behind the brothels—when you were running from the Sweet Shop, when Kaz had been drenched in the blood of some Razorgull. Barefoot and frantic, you really had almost knocked him off his feet. Gloved hands had held your arms tight, keeping you still. His hair had been messy and your mind a blur—and when you’d seen the crimson smeared across his cheek, you hadn’t thought twice before wiping it away. 
You’d done what so few have. You had touched Kaz Brekker, skin-on-skin. 
Because you didn’t make me sick. 
When you don’t speak, Kaz shifts in his chair. Straightens an already-neat stacks of papers. “You won’t try and deny it?” he asks. 
Maybe you imagine the quaver in his voice. Or maybe you don’t. 
Either way, you start around his desk. Your every step is slow—cautious. 
You stop beside him, and Kaz shifts again. You’re standing closer than you’d usually dare to get, so close that you can hear it when he swallows. 
“You should go downstairs,” he tells you, lower than before. 
Your head tilts, hair shifting over one shoulder. “Is that what you want?” 
His answer hides in silence so thick it’s a tangible presence. It curls around you, makes gooseflesh prickle along your skin. Your mouth feels dry, your stomach like it’s tied in knots. 
Suddenly, you don’t need him to repeat what he’d said. 
As always, Kaz was right—you'd heard him the first time. 
“Ask me again.” The words drip from your tongue, an order and a plea. “Ask me and I’ll do it.” 
Kaz gives you a look, one you’ve never seen before. Dark eyes rove over you, brimming with worry and stress and—and Saints, a sense of desire so strong it makes your toes curl in your boots, a feeling like lightning coursing up your spine. 
In a voice like stone on stone, raspy and urgent, Kaz breathes out, “Touch me.” 
So you do. 
You cup his face, graze your thumb over his cheekbone. Kaz stiffens, swallowing once more—but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to pull away. 
“You know, to be such a bastard,” you start, a note of teasing in your voice, “you’re awfully pretty, Brekker.” 
Heat blooms against your palm, a deep blush crawling over his pale cheeks. 
“Shut up,” Kaz grumbles. 
You grin. “Want me to go downstairs?” 
A gasp rips from your throat as a gloved hand clamps around your wrist, Kaz pulling you down toward him. Anxiety still tightens his features, but beneath it he looks all too pleased with himself when you stumble clumsily into his lap. 
For the sake of comfort, you adjust your legs—careful for his bad one—and settle your arms over his shoulders. Then, when it fully settles that you’re straddling Kaz-fucking-Brekker, it gets a lot harder to breathe. 
“Should I take that as a no?” It sounds like a pant, your lungs constricting. 
He lifts the hem of your shirt, the feel of leather cool against your skin as Kaz jabs a finger into your side. “Do I always have to repeat myself around you?” he asks. Dark eyes dip past your jaw, his tongue gliding over his lips. You don’t think he actually cares to hear your answer, which is good—because you’re pretty sure you just forgot how to speak. 
Kaz drags his finger up the curve of your waist, his touch tentative and featherlight. It feels a lot like being studied—the way his dark brows knit together, staring at you as if you’re a magic trick he’s yet to master, a puzzle he hasn’t quite figured out. 
“It’s not because you’re fast,” he says, somewhat distracted. It takes a minute for you to realize that he’s referring to your earlier question—Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? 
“Good,” you manage. “Because I’m not.” 
The slightest twitch of a smile. “No.” He takes his time tracing over every divet in your ribs, slowly trailing up, up, up. “You’re not.” 
“But I didn’t make you sick.” You’re not prepared for the wave of sickness that comes with the reminder, stomach roiling. 
The Bastard’s Pet. Is that truly all you are? All you’re worth to the Dregs? Useless at saddling up next to sleazy merchants, but good enough to curl up at Kaz Brekker’s feet. 
As if he can read your mind, Kaz’s hand goes still against your side. “Wipe that sour look off your face, would you? If I only wanted you to touch me, I would’ve just come to the Sweet Shop instead of getting my ass chewed by Haskell.”
You wiggle just enough to knock one knee into his hip, glaring at him. Both of you pretend not to notice the catch in his breath—or the growing hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against your core. 
Gruff, Kaz continues, “You were in an alley and saw a man dripping with blood, and your first thought was to reach out and clean his cheek.” His head shakes, a strand of coal-black hair swaying near his temple. “It was ignorant,” he tells you. “And… decent. Innocent.” 
You almost laugh. Innocent. That’s hardly a word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially right now, your every muscle straining in an attempt to keep your hips perfectly still, hands folded at the base of his neck. 
“I didn’t know innocence like that could survive in the Barrel.” His hand starts again, tracing little shapes against your side. “Even if you never touched me again, I wasn’t gonna let Pekka Rollin’s crush someone like you between his grimy little fingers.” 
“So that’s the answer?” you ask, nibbling on your lip. “I’m in the Dregs cause I’m innocent?” What a reason to have someone join a gang. Hey, you seem pure! Wanna get corrupted? 
“You’re in the Dregs because you know how to persevere,” Kaz answers, holding your gaze. “How to get up and try again, no matter how many times you’re knocked down.” The sensation of smooth leather drifts higher. “Because you’re a survivor.” Your eyelids flutter, sucking in a breath as he palms the plump curve of your breast. “Because you’re loyal,” he starts, and it’s almost reverent the way he almost whispers, “my perfect little pet.” 
The world grinds to a halt. 
Outside of this room—this moment—nothing exists. 
Too quiet, you ask, “What do you want from me, Kaz?” 
You want him to feel in control, to be the one that decides how this is gonna go. But your self-restraint is a fraying cord, mere seconds from snapping in half. 
If it were up to you, how far would you go? How much of Kaz Brekker would you explore? As far as I could, you think, desperate. As much as he’d let me. 
That’s the trouble with dogs. They’re loyal and clingy, forgiving and insistent. They want for everything and take whatever they’re given. They’ll spend hours begging at your feet. Lick scraps from the floor until their tongues begin to bleed. 
When it comes to Kaz Brekker, you’ll take whatever he has to give. 
And you’ll never stop begging for more, more, more. 
“Everything.” His breath is warm against your lips, the leather cool on your breast. “I want everything.”
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a/n - just in case anyone couldn't tell, i obviously just finished reading six of crows (yeah ik i'm very late to the party). i randomly started writing this while i was stuck in traffic and it just sort of spiraled over the past 24 hours and now here we are! this was born! idk if i'll get anymore kaz ideas, but it was fun writing something more dialogue heavy (dialogue has my heart<3)
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pianocat939 · 1 month ago
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Yandere Player 333 (Myung-Gi) Headcanons
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This gif screams mansplaining lmao
Lowkey he's kinda super stupid when he was talking with Jun-Hee but never mind that.
Tw: Manipulation. Mostly it. Just manipulation.
This guy definitely gives the type who acts they're rational and always thinks they're right regardless of what the situation is. I think this was super apparent all throughout the season.
Before the game even starts, he doesn't really notice any of the players. All he thinks about is paying off the debt (but then Thanos and Minggyu start bothering him of course).
It was actually the during the consent forms did he notice you first. You were right in front of him. He couldn't help but note you look kind of interesting. He doesn't try talking to you like Thanos would though.
He notices you more during Red Light, Green Light. Especially when Player 196 first gets killed. For some reason, he feels a little protective over you. Maybe because he notices your terrified expression and how you look like you're about to cry.
He doesn't know you, but he quickly shoves you behind him. He doesn't interact you for the rest of the game. Just on his way to win. He occasionally puts his arm behind him to make sure you stop.
He doesn't really do anything during voting time. He won't try to influence your decision unlike Thanos. But he does take note of whatever decision you try to make.
Skipping to the 2nd game, he teams up with you in order to ensure your safety. He’s noticed much more how vulnerable you are. It’s pitiful. But he knows why. So he teams up with you.
“Hey, you don’t have a team yet right? Join mine. You’ll be safer.”
By the 2nd voting, if you aren’t picking O, then he’ll gently coax you. He insists on all sorts of evidence and stuff. Essentially trying to sound smart.
“Do you want to die? Do you want to disappear off the earth with only debt to your name? Then hit X. Around XX% of people die with debt every year.”
The 2nd meal time, he talks to you more. He subtly pats your shoulder or head if you’re freaking out. Or if you’re hidden enough he’ll tug you closer. Warning you to not do anything stupid. That if you want to survive, you need to stick with him.
“That Thanos bastard won’t hesitate to let you die.”
By the 3rd game, he’s tugging you along everywhere. He doesn’t really care who or what. As long as you survive (and himself of course). He becomes much more aggressive about keeping you safe.
“Don’t follow them. They’re gonna push you out!”
All in all, he just hides you or just mostly manipulates you into thinking he’s the rational, smart one. That you need to stick with him because he’s reliable.
—————————————————————————
Ah we love a good manipulative man. Anyway, he’s like the opposite of Thanos, which makes their interactions so much funnier.
I’m still debating whether I do Thanos part 3 first or Myunggi vs Thanos first. We’ll see. Actually, if I do the Myunggi vs Thanos, I’ll probably do 3 parts. Basically the main story and then an ending for Myunggi and Thanos (I want to add some juice).
- Celina
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enanansbbg · 5 months ago
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Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:
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this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!
With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.
To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.
In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.
Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.
This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.
Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.
See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.
From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.
You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.
Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3
🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”
🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…
🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”
🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”
An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.
But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”
Singing in Sync, ep. 8
🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”
🎧: “Could you cover for me?”
🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”
After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.
Awakening Beat, ep. 8
🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”
🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)
However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.
Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4
🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”
🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)
🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”
Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)
At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”
BFBY, ep. 8
🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”
🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”
Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.
BFBY, ep. 8
🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”
🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”
🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”
We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.
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But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.
Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.
Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.
VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7
🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”
🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”
🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”
🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”
And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.
This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.
An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.
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An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.
So what about Kohane?
Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.
So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.
She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.
WTWG, ep. 7
🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)
🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)
In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.
Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2
Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”
🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)
���: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)
🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)
🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”
🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”
🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)
And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.
In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it
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jollyhunter · 2 months ago
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24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 5.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)
Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.
Words: 1,330
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A/N: Here I was, thinking I was real creative with this kinky UNO version - then my hubby told me "Ya know this game exists, right?" And of course it does. It's called "Dirty UNO" in case any of you is interested 🤭 On another sidenote, I changed the design for the kinky advent calendar posts! I was missing my Dean moods ayyy
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5th Dec. - Dirty UNO
Dean grins cockily and laughs, “Are you ready to lose, baby?” He playfully wiggles the cards in his hands and winks at you.
You roll your eyes in mock-annoyance and let out a chuckle, “You wish honey, you wish.”
“I’ll make sure to not go to easy on you.” He grins and places down a Draw 2 card. “You owe me two shots and a kiss, gorgeous.”
You keep a straight face as you reach for the shot glass and hold it out for him to fill it up, “Gimme,” you nod at the bottle while you hold your 2 cards close to you.
Dean chuckles “As you wish,” and fills it up to the brim, you chug the whiskey down and he fills it once more, his green eyes gleaming in the dimmed light of the main room as he watches you down the second glass. “I guess I’ll take my other prize now,” he grins as he leans forward for a kiss, quickly capturing your lips in a passionate kiss and taking in the taste of alcohol on your lips.
You briefly swipe your tongue over the bottom of your lip before you draw two cards and add them to your deck, your expression turning mischievous. “My turn, sucker,” You cackle as you smack a Skip card onto his.
“Damnit,” he swears, but there’s no real bite to it - he wouldn’t admit it, but you knew he was gonna enjoy his punishment as much as you do. He quickly chugs down two shots before he stands up from his chair and walks around the table where he kneels down next to you, his hands slowly moving up your legs, “You’re gonna pay for that Skippi,“ he says playfully as he pushes you back onto the chair and spreads your legs.
You have to bite back a moan, determined to not lose this early. Your hands quickly go to unbutton your jeans and he hooks his fingers over the rim to pull them all the way down to your ankles along with your panties. The shots slowly make you lose your inhibitions and you tease him with a sultry smile, “Dig in.” He doesn’t have to be told twice and next thing you know he’s eating you out like a desperate man, his hands grabbing your thighs to keep them spread, his only goal to get some form of noise out of you. You bite your lips and throw back your head, fighting the urge to moan out loud when he’s suddenly sucking at your clit and you finally snap, that guttural moan slipping past your teeth. “There we go,” he hums in a satisfied tone as he pulls away from you, licking his lips, “I knew I would get you to make noises sooner or later,” he looks up at you with that cocky smirk of his before he pushes off the ground and returns to slump down on his seat across from you. “That was unfair,” you breath out shakily, your legs still trembling slightly.
Dean smiles smugly as he watches you try to compose yourself and place down a red 6. “You’re not getting out of this that easily, sunshine.” He grins and looks at his remaining 3 cards, “I believe it’s my turn again.” With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, he tosses a red Reverse card onto yours. He starts to unbuckle his belt while his eyes never leave yours and he has the audacity to wink at you with a tilt of his chin towards his crotch.
“Seriously now?” You scoff but cannot help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. You place your cards onto the table, face down, and with quick steps walk around the table, your eyes drifting down to his boner.
“Come on, sweetheart, on your knees.” He grins up at you and pats his thighs, fully aware of how cocky he is at the moment - and you know damn well he’s enjoying every second of it. This was payback, right? You kneel down next to his chair and your hand quickly snakes past his boxers rim to free his fully erected cock. With your free hand you fish out your phone and set the timer on one minute. “If you’re being a good boy for me, I might even make you cum in those 60 seconds.” You tease in a mock-sultry tone before you wrap your fingers around him and start to slide them up and down in a torturous slow pace. Every now and then you squeeze your hand to draw some sweet whimpers from him. His hands grip the edge of the chair and his hips involuntarily buck up towards you while his head drops back against the seat with a low groan. “Damn, baby…” he mumbles as he bites his lips and you start to increase the pace. You’re using just the right amount of friction, determined to make him come undone in the last 20 seconds with your fingers already glistening with his pre-cum. His eyes squeeze closed as he groans again, knowing he’s not going to last much longer and just when the alarm rings, his hips buck up one more time before he cums in the tight grip of your hand. “Fuck,” he pants out as the words leave his mouth, “That was… Damn…” You smile victoriously while you wipe your hand clean. “Told ya.”
After he had regained his composure and you sat back down to pick up your cards, you look up to eye the remaining two cards in his hand. “Your turn, honey.” You challenge him, trying to hide your fear of losing.
Dean notices how your eyes keep darting to his two remaining cards and he doesn’t miss the chance to grin at you smugly, ”Yeah, ‘m not gonna lie, I don’t have much left here.” He wiggles the two cards between his fingers, his emerald eyes glinting. “Looks like one of us will be naked soon. UNO.” he says while he places down a Draw 2 card. He fills the shot glass and shoves it across the table with a sly smirk, “Go on, down the hatch.”
“Damnit,” you curse silently, your head already a bit hazy of the past couple of shots. “Another two, huh,” you mumble as you down the first shot, letting him refill it before you force down the next one, the whiskey burning your throat as you empty the shot glass. “Alrighty, c’mere-“ you mutter, your voice already taking on a bit of a slur as the alcohol kicks in. You lean over the table and place a swift, sloppy kiss on his lips before you sit back down, adding the additional two cards to your hand. Your eyes narrow, scanning the numbers, until you have to realize that you have no way of stopping him. And honestly, you were kinda relieved about it. Dean is a sore loser and you don’t plan to deal with a grumpy Dean for the rest of the day – plus, it was kinda cute to see his victorious beaming smile. Feigning annoyance, you finally lay down a simple number card and watch his reaction.
Dean grins like a child as he watches you place down your card, realizing he’s got you now. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a spot now,” he teases as he stands up from his chair and walks around the table to stand behind your chair. He leans down to your ear and whispers with his voice a bit deeper than before, “I hope you’re in the mood for another loss, sunshine.” And without further warning he drops his last card onto the stack. His lips curl into a victorious smile as he slides the card with the game rules across the table and his finger taps the last line; Loser takes 2 shots, get naked and make their partner cum. “...Looks like it’s time to strip.”
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Masterlist of opened windows:
1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke
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⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝
Tags:
@gardenofeden07 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967
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ttodorokiii · 3 months ago
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aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(
warnings: yándèrè, guílt, mánípùlátíòn, íntènsè.
note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!
•••
You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.
You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…
But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.
You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.
And it terrifies you.
Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,
feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.
So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,
you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.
“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.
It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.
“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”
He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,
like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.
“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”
How dare he say that?
You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.
“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”
The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.
“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.
You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”
“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”
He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…
You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,
Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.
But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.
“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.
You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.
You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”
But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.
“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”
And it’s in that moment you realize,
the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.
And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.
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wendichester · 1 month ago
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could you pls write about reader attempting to bake a pie 🥧 but dean and sam already know it’s not going to be good because while reader is skilled in many things, cooking/baking isn’t one of them but they don’t have the heart to tell her no, that is until reader leaves the room and they spit it out cuz it’e awful 😂👩🏽‍🍳
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🥧༄⋆ baking time,
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summary. who knew homemade pie could be so... tasty?
pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester
wordcount. 641.
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You’re in the kitchen, humming to yourself, as you carefully follow the recipe you found online. Sam and Dean are sitting at the table, watching with a mix of concern and confusion. They’ve been through this before—your attempts at cooking and baking are... let’s say, a little less than successful. But neither of them has the heart to tell you this probably isn’t going to end well.
Dean leans back in his chair, eyeing the pie crust you’ve just rolled out. “You sure you don’t want some help?” he asks, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
“I’ve got it!” you say, flashing him a grin that could only be described as pure determination. “You two just relax. I’m going to bake the best pie you’ve ever tasted.”
Sam glances at Dean, but before either of them can get a word in, you’ve already started dumping ingredients into a bowl, mixing them with an intensity that has Sam’s eyebrows knitting together. “Uh, maybe you should double-check the recipe? You’re using... a whole stick of butter, right?”
You glance over your shoulder, laughing. “That’s what it says. I’m not skimping on the good stuff.”
Dean coughs, trying to hide his grin. “Sure, sure. More butter never hurt anyone.”
The smell of baking fruit and sugar fills the air as you continue your work, oblivious to the concerned looks Dean and Sam exchange. At one point, Sam swears he sees you accidentally spill an entire jar of cinnamon into the pie filling.
Dean shifts in his seat, his eyes darting between you and the pie. “You sure this is the best way to do it?” he asks, hoping you won’t catch on to his barely disguised panic.
You flash him another confident grin. “Relax, Dean. I know what I’m doing.”
When the pie finally goes into the oven, you stand back, hands on your hips. “There. Now we just wait.”
Dean and Sam look at each other, both clearly thinking the same thing: This is going to be a disaster.
A few minutes later, the timer goes off, and you skip over to the oven, pulling out the golden-brown pie that’s, well, kind of slanted on one side. But you’re beaming. “It’s perfect!”
Dean and Sam exchange a glance. “Looks... uh, great,” Sam says weakly, forcing a smile.
Dean clears his throat, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, if you like your pie with a little... character.”
You’re so excited, though, you don’t even notice. “Okay, I’m serving it up now.”
Dean looks at Sam with wide eyes as you put down the plates, one slice in each. He leans in as soon as you turn your back, going in for a third slice. “Uh... maybe we should... I dunno, have a little taste test first?” He grabs a fork before Sam can protest, and takes a cautious bite.
Sam watches him, a little horrified. Dean’s face scrunches up, his eyes watering. He chews a little longer than necessary before spitting it out dramatically into a napkin. “I—I don’t think this is supposed to taste like that.”
Sam hesitates, then gingerly picks up his own slice. He takes one bite and immediately follows Dean’s lead, spitting it out. “I think I’ve had better pie at the bottom of a dumpster.”
But neither of them has the heart to tell you how awful it really is. When you turn back around with a plate of pie, you see both of them smiling with strained expressions.
“Best pie ever,” Dean says, forcing a smile.
Sam quickly adds, “Amazing. Really, I’m impressed.”
You beam, obviously proud of your work. “I knew you’d love it. I’ll make it again next week!”
Dean and Sam exchange a glance, both of them silently agreeing they’ll never, ever let you bake again. Not unless they want to die from cinnamon overload.
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want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles
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joemama-2 · 26 days ago
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wc: 1098
“Hey,” you hear from beside you. Your head swivels to your left, immediately spotting the bright grin the pink-haired man sports beside you. Head tilted slightly and leaning against the bar top by his forearm. You spare a brief glance at it, noticing the veins that run up along his flesh, the hint of muscles that peek out from beneath his white shirt. “You all by yourself?” He asks in a friendly tone, getting himself comfortable in the seat next to you.
On instinct, you want to decline. However, it’s a Saturday night, you’re at a bar, a little tipsy…so where’s the fun in that? “Maybe.”
He chuckles, his eyes fixated on your features. Almost too fixated, like he’s actively forcing himself not to look anywhere else. (The way your ass perks out from the way you’re sitting; that dress doing nothing to hide it) “Maybe. Does that mean I can stay?”
“Depends.” You swivel the remnants left of your drink in your glass.
“On?”
“If you make it worth my while.”
His eyebrows raise slightly, but his grin widens, revealing a dimple that only adds to the charm of his boyish features. His honey eyes exhibiting a tiny gleam from beneath the dimmed lighting. “Guess I better start working for it, then.” He straightens, gesturing to the bartender with a casual wave. “Another for me, and…” He pauses, tilting his head toward your glass. “Whatever the pretty woman here is drinking.”
The bartender nods, already turning to prepare your order, and Yuji swivels his body to face you fully, resting his elbow on the bar. “Alright,” he says, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the countertop. “What does ‘worth your while’ mean, exactly? Drinks, conversation, bad pick-up lines?”
You hum thoughtfully, pretending to mull it over. “Well, you’re off to a decent start. But I don’t think a drink’s going to cut it.”
“Oh, I see.” He leans in just slightly, enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne—something clean and fresh, like citrus with a hint of spice. You feel a familiar warmth pool in your gut, having to hold your body back from instinctively leaning in. “You’re the type who needs to be impressed. Alright, fair enough. Let’s skip the small talk, then.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
He grins, a mischievous sparkle lighting up his eyes. “Well, I could tell you I saved a cat from a tree once, but that’d be too cliché, right? Or that I know how to make a killer pancake from scratch.”
Your lips twitch as you try to stifle a laugh. His humor feels enticing and intimate. “And you think pancakes are impressive?”
“Only when you’re craving them,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to suggest he’s enjoying this far too much. “And trust me, I make the best pancakes.”
The drink arrives in front of you, and you take a slow sip, letting his words linger. “Alright, pancake master,” you say finally, setting your glass down. “Consider me intrigued. But I’ll warn you now—flattery’s not going to work on me.”
“Oh, I’m not flattering you.” He smiles, leaning back with an easy confidence that feels entirely unforced. “I’m just stating facts. But if you’re intrigued…” He shrugs lightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of determination. “I must be doing something right.”
“Or I’m just being nice and humoring you,” you add on, lifting the glass to your pink lips. His gaze is laser focused on the action, watching you tilt your head back and shift your eyes closed. Seeing your throat bob up once and then back down as you consume the burning liquid. Darting his tongue out to run across his lower lip, clearing his throat subtly and shifting in his seat.
His awkwardness is cute, you think to yourself.
“That’s fine too. I don’t mind.” He ends up saying, resting his cheek against his palm and ignoring the heat that crawls up his neck.
For some reason now, you’re looking at him in a different light. His cologne is pulling you more in by the second, his casual, confident demeanor that’s not too cocky, his spiky hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it, and the way his hand is itching closer to yours. He’s wearing a thin, gold chain around his neck that coincidentally houses a small charm of your first initial.
Huh.
“What’s your name, pretty?” He asks, voice tilting in a curious manner.
You find yourself instantly obeying, telling him your name. The alcohol you’ve consumed is making your skin feel flushed, or maybe it’s the way his smile grows more genuine, his thick fingers gently running over your smaller ones. Weaving them together before feeling across your rigid knuckles. “You know, that happens to be my favorite word.”
“What is?” Your head tilts, turning your hand the other way so he could massage the lines of your palm.
“Your name.”
The laugh that falls from your lips is automatic. “Cheesy.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with cheesy?”
Pulling your hand away, you stand up from your barstool. Overestimating yourself because as soon as your feet hit the hard floor, you’re feeling your body sway backwards. The man works quickly, faster than you could react. Strong arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you tethered to his chest. He looks down at you, eyes flashing with concern.
You’re meeting his stare, the intoxicating scent of his feels more invading than before. But you’re welcoming it this time, head tilting up to nose at the side of his neck. All the while he’s silently bending his head down so you could get a better sniff, smiling to himself with the tip of your nose pokes at a sensitive spot.
After a couple seconds, your arms wrap around his neck. “God, I told you not to wear this. You know what it does to me.”
He laughs in your ear, pulling his other arm around your waist. “It’s not my fault, you know I love Sauvage.” You grumble as he leads you away from the bar, over to a booth. “So, you lost.”
“Shut up.”
He pulls you down to his lap, tapping lightly at your ass then squeezing, now taking the time to admire your assets shamelessly. “What? It’s true.”
“You almost lost. I saw it in your eyes.” You tell him, lips pulling down into a frown.
He leans forward slightly and places a quick kiss to them. “You know I can’t help it. Your ass is a siren’s call to me. Can I bite—”
“No.”
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sexlapis · 1 year ago
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Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~
Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D
thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.
and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)
cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(
wc: 2k+
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you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.
sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.
admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.
sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.
you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.
there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.
toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.
“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.
“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.
“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”
“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.
fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.
but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.
so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.
“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.
“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”
you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.
it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-
you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.
“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”
you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”
and then there is black.
౨ৎ
you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.
“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.
oh, toji’s here.
“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.
“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.
“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”
“oh.”
toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.
“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”
you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.
toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”
the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.
“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.
“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”
you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”
toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.
“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.
“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.
you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.
“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”
you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”
“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”
“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.
“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”
you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.
“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”
“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”
“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”
you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.
“yeah, i do.” you agree.
suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.
toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”
you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.
toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”
“i will if there’s food involved.”
“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”
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a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3
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teapartyprincess4two · 1 year ago
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Full Set- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo
classification: mostly fluff
warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)
summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.
“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.
You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.
When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”
She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.
In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”
The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”
What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’
“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.
“Do you think we can add more glitter?”
After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.
As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.
Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.
For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.
You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:
@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!
Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!
@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!
He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.
The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.
When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.
Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.
You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.
“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.
“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.
“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.
“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.
“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”
Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.
“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.
Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.
Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.
“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she’s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.
“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.
“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.
“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.
“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.
“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.
As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.
While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”
You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.
The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.
“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.
“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’
You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.
Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.
To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.
You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.
The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.
Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”
“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.
“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.
“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.
Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”
When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.
When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.
It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.
Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:
@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!
‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:
@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)
What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.
@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!
The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.
Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.
“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.
“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.
“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”
You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.
“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.
“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.
The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.
While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.
When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?
“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.
Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.
He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.
Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.
Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.
For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.
Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.
Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.
When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.
He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.
“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.
“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.
When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.
You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.
“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.
“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”
“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.
Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.
Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”
His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.
Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.
“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.
“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.
“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.
There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.
“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.
“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.
You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.
MASTERLIST
A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
1K notes · View notes
lailols · 2 months ago
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Kai’s Pretty Girlfriend [3]: Step Three Revised
OT5 x reader, masterlist
Warnings: vibrators, oral (f receiving), degradation (dumb, slut), overstim, denial, dom txt, sub reader
Kai has always said that hindsight is 20/20. When making the plan, he overlooked the fact that Steps Two and Three were basically the same. But he must keep integrity! So he decides to shift the plan just a bit.
He wakes up with a little skip in his step on his next day off, even though you’re not in his bed. It’s okay, you’ll be here later and then the plan can commence. He’s quite excited. He would even go so far as to call himself a mastermind. Ah. This day simply could not get better.
He looks over to Taehyun’s bed to find him scrolling on his phone and sets the plan in motion. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. You won’t even know what hit you. Not literally of course…. Well…. Maybe.
<3
You don’t take two steps inside the dorm before Kai slams you against the door and smashes his lips against yours. You open your mouth to gasp and he doesn’t hesitate to stick his tongue inside.
His hands travel from your face down to your thighs tugging you up into his arms. He uses the new position to press into you harder. Humping up into your clothed pussy.
“Kai,” you run your hands down from his shoulders to his chest, tapping slightly. “Kai, baby, I need to breathe.”
“Do you really?” He pouts up at you. “I’d gladly die so long as my last breath is going into your body.”
“Pack it up, Romeo. I want to see the surprise you said you had for me.” You shift your hips a bit lower to rut against his. “If I like it, I’ll give you a reward, yeah?”
“Will you, baby?” He squeezes your hips. “Are you sure you can handle what I want? I've got two whole free days in a row, I can’t even imagine the things I could do to you in that time.”
“Well, we can’t do anything against this door.”
“Wanna bet?”
After Kai proves you very, very wrong, he takes you back to his room to actually begin the plan. He lays you down gently on your back and hovers over you.
“Baby, would you like to try something today?” He asks gently as he rubs your sides.
“Like what?” You look at him with slightly glazed eyes.
“Remember that surprise I had for you? I want to play a game sweetie.” He says with a sweet smile, but his eyes tell a completely different story.
“What kind of game?” You ask feeling excitement flow down your body straight to your core.
“Well….”
<3
Of all the things you’ve let Kai do to you, this has to be the most embarrassing. It’s hot- there’s no denying that, but god. You’ve always known you had a bit of a degradation kink (let’s be real here, not even just a bit), but did you really need to add humiliation to the list?
Because there's nothing more humiliating than walking down the hallway in nothing but panties and one of Kai's shirts with trembling legs. It’s not the fact that you’re wearing those that humiliate you, but what lies under them. You're lucky no one is out of their room yet. Well, you hope someone is out.
Kai probably thought he was so smart for setting this game up as if you haven't known the guys for nearly five years. Well, the jokes on him because you know just the person to shut it down, and then you'll go back to gloat.
Realistically speaking, there's no way he'd know if you just went in the bathroom for a bit and then came back. Maybe you’ll just do that. Though you don’t even want to think about what Kai’d do if he found out.
Has the dorm always been this large? Or are you just moving extremely slowly? If you don't get there soon, you think you'll come again and you've already done it twice.
When you get to the room, you knock twice softly. If he doesn't answer, you'll just go with plan B and hope Kai doesn't find out. Your plans are thwarted when you hear a soft 'come in.'
You push open the door to find Soobin at his desk and fucking Beomgyu on his bed playing on his phone. They both look at you and Beomgyu sits up.
"What's up y/n?"
"Um, I need to talk to Soobin," You say standing by the door as casually as you can.
"Oh, go ahead," Beomgyu says lying back down.
"Is it okay if you leave?" You shift awkwardly, hoping he just complies.
"No, I don't think I want to. Go ahead and talk to him." He says easily.
"Seriously, just go." You shoot him a glare. "It'll only be a minute."
"Hm. Alright then. I'll remember that." With those words, Beomgyu grabs his phone and heads out the door, making sure to bump your shoulder as he goes.
"What's up?" Soobin asks, turning his chair around to face his bed and waving you over.
You make your way over as naturally as you can and stand near his bed. As much as you're sure Soobin likes you well enough, you don't think he'd appreciate you leaving a wet spot on his bed.
"I just need you to do something for me, and then I'll be out of your hair." You say neutrally. "I don't want to bother you too much on one of your rare free days."
"Alright, what can I do for you?" He says leaning a bit closer to you.
"Well..." You hesitate a bit. "You promise not to judge me?"
"Of course, I won't judge you, y/n." He furrows his eyes a bit. "Did you and Kai get into an argument? Also, sit down so we can talk comfortably.”
"Um, no, we didn't." You start and move a bit closer. "And I kind of can't sit down."
His eyebrows raise. "Why not? My bed is clean, I promise. I just did laundry a few days ago."
"Um, that's not why. Actually, that's even more reason for me to not sit."
"And why is that?"
"I'm just going to say it, okay? Don't interrupt and don't judge me." You assert before launching into your explanation. "KaiputabulletvibeinmeandsaidthatIhavetoaskoneofyoutotakeitout."
"What?"
"Kai... he put a bullet vibe in me and said that I have to ask... one of you to take it out."
His eyes widen. "Really?"
"Yeah, I even have the remote for it."
"Well, why do you have the remote? And if you have it, why don't you just cut it off yourself?"
"...He said you get to choose whether you take it out, turn it down, or... turn it up. I can't do it myself." You really hope this doesn't change the way Soobin thinks about you.
"Oh." Soobin suddenly stands, startling you. "Well, now that you've cleared that up, go on and sit down."
"Soobin, I just told y-"
"And I said to sit down. You're really going to talk back when I'm the one you're asking for help?" He fixes you with a bored look.
Your mouth slams shut. It’s safe to say that you didn’t expect this. You really thought Soobin would just smile softly as he usually does and help you out. Maybe he just wants you to be comfortable? You hesitantly sit on the edge of his bed facing him.
"Give me the remote," He says, reaching an arm out. You hesitate before handing it over. “So you can be good. Was that so hard?”
"N-no." You stammer out, pressing your thighs together. Soobin wastes no time, walking in front of you and kneeling right in front of your legs.
"Okay, now let me see.”
"W-what?" You look down at him in shock. "What do you mean?"
"I mean let me see you. Are you so dumb already? I don’t think that was a hard request.” One of his hands, the one not holding the remote, travels up your leg stopping about mid-thigh. “You’re so lucky Kai told us not to touch you... or in any way that matters, at least."
"I- You want to see?"
"That's what I said, no? Y'know what? I was trying so hard to be nice but you'll learn." He clicks a button on the remote and suddenly the vibrations inside of you get so much stronger. You gasp and curl into yourself in pleasure.
"Ah! Soobin, please!"
"Do what I said, and I'll stop." You hurry to open your legs in front of him, and the vibrations slow down. You know there's an embarrassing wet spot on your panties and you can't bear to look at him. It's weird having a man that's not Kai so close to you in this way. Weird, but not unwelcome. "Move your panties out of the way. Do I have to tell you everything?"
You move a hand down to pull your panties to the side, trying to ignore the way your juices make the move sticky. You chance a glance at Soobin to find him completely transfixed. His throat bobs and his hand twitches where it is on your thigh.
"Fuck, you're so pretty here too." He moves a bit closer. "Play with your clit for me, baby."
You whimper and bring your other hand down to rub at your nub. Your hips buck a bit from the stimulation and you fall back. The vibrations raise again and you let out a moan.
"Just like that, I want you to make a mess on my bed. Don't you want that too?" Well, you didn't, but now nothing else seems right. You look down at Soobin and see him wet his lips while his eyes remain on your lower half. You nod in agreement but then there's a click and the vibrations slow down.
"Why'd you do that?"
"Ask me." He says it like a plea and a demand at once. “Ask me to let you come on my bed." He crawls over you, hips bracketing yours. He’s not close enough to touch anywhere that matters but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body. "C'mon, pretty, be good for me. You can be good can't you?"
"Yes, yes, I can." You reply, looking up at him. "Binnie, I want to make a mess on your bed. Please let me."
"You're asking me to let you come on my bed? You want to come on your boyfriend's friend's bed?" He looks at you in wonder, clicking a button so the vibrations rise again. "You're so dirty, bunny. Go ahead."
Your jaw drops open in a gasp and your head tilts back at the stimulation. Soobin’s hand comes up to grab your jaw and make you hold eye contact. He’s drinking in the expressions on your face as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness you fall apart like this. You come with a long moan and then start whimpering again when the vibrations don't stop. "Bin, please! Turn it off, I came!"
"I can't turn it off, pretty. Well, I can, but I won't." With that Soobin climbs off of you and grabs your hand to pull you up. He hands you back the remote and smiles. "I'm sure someone else will help you out though." He pushes you towards the door and relishes in the way you stumble out.
As soon as the door closes Soobin goes back to his knees in front of where you were sitting. He admires the wet spot on his bed for a bit before leaning in closer and breathing in your scent. His hands travel down to his pants and palms his length.
“Fuck.” He moans as his eyes close to picture how you looked beneath him. How pretty you sounded. How beautiful you are everywhere. He really feels like a pervert when he opens his mouth to kiss and lick at the spot you left. Reaching beneath his pants to rub at his dick. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, considering how dry it is but Soobin feels like he has the best damn orgasm of his life. He can’t imagine how it’ll feel when he gets inside you. Shit. Just the thought of it has him hardening up again.
He strips out of his pants and boxers and positions his hips to be even with the spot. Let's just say that when he's done, his bed is wetter than it was when you left.
<3
When you leave the room, you see Beomgyu on the couch and immediately continue down the hallway until he calls out to you.
"You're not even going to ask me to help?" He asks with a smirk.
"No." You say simply, turning away from him. "If I'm lucky, I won't have to ask you at all."
"Hm. We'll see how that works out for you." He says with a laugh.
<3
When you open the door to Kai’s room, you find him gone and Taehyun clearing out his bag. He must’ve just gotten back from the gym.
“Hey, y/n.” He says with a smile that’s a little too knowing. “What’s up?”
“You mean you don’t know?” You ask in disbelief. Soobin outright said that Kai told them not to touch you. Beomgyu also hinted at it in the hallway. You find it hard to believe that Taehyun, Kai’s best friend, isn’t in on the game.
“Know what?” He asks as he walks in front of you. “You look a little flushed, are you okay?” He brings a hand up to wipe some hair out of your face and feel your forehead.
“No, I’m fine.” You shake your head a bit. “Well, not fine but I’m not sick.”
“And why aren’t you fine, hm?” He tilts his head to the side innocently. You’d almost believe the act if there wasn’t a storm brewing in those big eyes of his.
“Kai told you about the game. I know he told you about it.”
“What game?” He asks as he walks back over to his bag, continuing to take things out of it. “I’m just getting back from the gym, y/n, I don’t have time for you to come in here and speak in riddles.”
“I’m not speaking in riddles. You’re playing dumb.” You say with a scoff, crossing your arms.
“I’m playing dumb? That’s rich coming from you.” He pauses to get a look at you. “Or I guess it’s not really playing in your case.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You walk over to him.
“I’m just saying. You came bursting in here and all you’ve done thus far is mouth off at me.” He turns to face you. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’m not gonna tolerate it. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I’m sure any of the other guys will entertain you just fine.
“I came here to ask for help.” At your words he scoffs.
“You must know you’re not getting help with the way you’ve been talking to me.”
"What did you expect me to do?" Your arms shoot up with your words. "The entire time I've been here, you've been speaking down on me like I'm-"
Your words are cut off when Tae's hand shoots up to grab your face. He squeezes your cheeks together and brings your head up.
"Like you're what?" He tilts his head with a mocking pout. "Like you're nothing more than a stupid slut?"
His words have your thighs pressing together and a frown coming on your face. “I’m no-“ you’re not able to finish before he’s squeezing your cheeks harder.
“You’re not? Are you really gonna lie when you're here like this?" He brings his hand down to ghost over your neck making your breath catch. "Pretty face flushed? Eyes glazed with tears? A fucking vibrator in your cunt? What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry, Tyun. I didn't mean to." He scoffs at your words, and you can hardly blame him because you don't believe yourself either. But that's okay. You've gotten out of worse with Hyuka; maybe he won't be so different. "I really didn't mean to! I'm just- It's just so hard. It hurts, Tyun, please help me? Please?"
He hums before pushing you back onto his bed and walking over to his desk to drag his chair in front of it. “Where’s the remote?”
You hold it out to him but he shakes his head and says, “Keep it. Lean against the wall with your legs spread.”
You follow his instructions and look a him again. “What? Not gonna say anything?”
“No. It didn’t help much when I did.” You say with a frown.
“Hm. Maybe you can learn something.” He relaxes into the chair as if he’s watching a movie. “Turn it up.” He nods to the remote in your hand. “Don’t even think about pretending.”
You click the top button on the remote and barely have time to let out a little 'oh' at the uptake in vibrations before Taehyun continues to rattle on.
"You didn't even ask me how my time at the gym was. That's quite rude, don't you think?" His words have your face twisting in confusion. He's not wrong, but surely there are more important matters than his gym session. You continue staring at him until he tilts his head as if urging you to ask.
"How was the gym, Tyun?" He gives you a once over before letting out an 'up' and waits for the click to launch into his description of his time.
You're able to listen to the start of his rant about meeting up with a few friends to push a 'PR' and triceps until all you can focus on are the vibrations the little toy is sending throughout your body. It's really not your fault. You've always been sensitive and although the vibe isn't touching that sweet spot inside of you it still feels really good. Almost too good. You don't even realize that your eyes have closed until Taehyun calls your name.
"Hm?" You blink up at him dazed.
"You're not even listening to me. Turn it down." Before you can open your mouth to refuse, he's cutting you off. "That wasn't a question." Click.
"Anyways, where was I? Oh, yes! And then..." Now you're not listening to him because you're too busy thinking about how much of an ass he is. If he didn't want to play, why even keep you in here? You do not care about his stupid gym session or how some guy almost got crushed if Taehyun hadn't been there to hold up the bar, you kinda wish he got crushed since-
"Y/n." Your eyes flick back to him again. "You really don't know how to listen, do you?"
"I'm sorry, which one of us has a vibrator inside of them right now?" His jaw clenches at your words and he stands up to rip the remote out of your hands before sitting back down.
Click. Click. Click.
You gasp and hunch over at the pleasure that surges through your body. "Tae-"
"Shut up. Isn't this what you wanted?" You don't get a chance to respond before you're coming and slumping over onto his bed. You expect the vibrations to lower after that, but, of course, they don't. You're quickly learning that nothing with Taehyun will be that easy.
“Turn it off! Please!” Your words don’t make a difference, if anything it makes Taehyun lean closer in his chair watching you with heat in his eyes. Tears flow down your face and your body is scrunched as if that’ll make things better. “Tae! I can’t!”
“No.” Taehyun watches you writhing on his bed before continuing. “You know what to say if you really want me to stop. But we both know you don’t want that, right?”
His words have more tears fall because he’s right. You know that at any moment you could make everything stop but you don’t want to. You want him to push you in a different way than Kai. Not that your boyfriend doesn’t push you like this. Kai likes to sweeten his mockery with coos and kisses, while Tae makes sure to let you know how desperate you are. It’s exhilarating in a way.
The pulses inside of you get stronger and you’re tumbling over the edge again. He shows mercy by lowering the intensity before pulling you up and wiping your tears away with gentle hands, not that it helps because more fall again soon after.
“Good. Maybe next time I’ll be nicer if you aren’t so rude.” With that and a light tap to your butt, he’s pushing you out of the room and closing the door.
As you slowly make your way to the final room you notice the Beomgyu is not in the living room anymore.
<3
You don't even bother knocking on Yeonjun's door before entering. If you can call entering, stumbling in and nearly falling on your face. Yeonjun startles from where he is on his bed until he sees the state that you're in.
"Oh, you poor thing." He says standing and walking over to you. His arms circle your waist and pull you into his body, steadying you. He tilts your head up and asks, “Who'd you ask so far?"
"Soobin and Taehyun." You say with a sniffle. Yeonjun’s hands moving to wipe away your tears and guide you to the bed.
"Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. They must’ve been so mean to you, huh?” He says guiding you to the bed and taking the remote from where it's clenched in your hands. "Does it hurt?"
"It hurts so bad, Junie," You don't think you've stopped crying since you left Taehyun's room. "Help me, please."
"I'll help you, honey, but can you do something for me?" He guides you into laying your head in his lap and caresses your hair when you nod. "Can you take one more for me, baby? One more and it'll all be over."
When you nod again, the vibe picks up once again and you thrash a bit on the bed, crying out.
"Shh, shh, it's okay." He continues petting your hair, cooing at you with a gentle look in his eyes. "You can take it. You're so good for me, for us. Just give me one more, yeah? Need to see how pretty you look when you come."
He wipes the tears from your eyes and continues to pet your hair as the vibe works you up to the edge. It takes a while but his gaze doesn’t falter from your face. Tracing your features with something akin to awe. It’s so intimate you want to both turn away and bask in it. When you’re pushed over the edge, he turns the vibe down to let you ride it out and then turns it off completely.
"Here, let me help you." He gently moves from under you and brings himself between your legs. Pulling down your soaked panties and pocketing them. He then runs his hands back up your thighs slowly. "You did so well, sweetie." His hands are gentle, reverent, as they trace shapes along your body. He takes a minute to look at how your hole flutters around the toy inside of you before he grabs the end of the vibe and pulls it out with careful hands to not overstimulate you any more than you already are.
He lets you lay there for a bit catching your breath before he moves to help you sit up. He hands you both the remote and the vibe.
"Go tell Hueningie how well you did, okay?" You nod again with a sniffle and then lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you, Junie."
<3
When you make it back to Kai's room, you nearly let out a groan when you see Beomgyu in there instead of him.
"Junie took it out for me you're not needed here." You say with a glare, holding up the remote and the vibe.
"I figured he would," He says with a shrug. "That's why I asked Hyuka to tweak the rules a bit for me."
"Wha-" You don't get to say much more before Beomgyu pulls you onto the bed and straddles your hips. You try to push him away but he gathers both of your wrists in one hand and pushes them above your head.
"You see, you've been so mean to me today." He says leaning in close to you. "Can you tell me why? I was so excited to play with you."
"'Cause I knew you'd be mean to me. I know your game, Gyu." You say looking away from him. That doesn't last long when he grips your chin roughly and turns it back to him.
"What game? Do you mean the shy act Soobin put on? Bet you didn't know how much of a pervert he is. I'm sure he's humping his bed at the thought of you writhing under him like this. Or how about Taehyun, hm? I'm sure he just bowed over and helped you out, right? No? That's odd. The only one of us that's actually nice is Yeonjun."
"I didn't know that before. But you've told me about how you are in bed. You've told all of us."
"What if I was gonna be nice, huh? Maybe I like taking care of good girls?" He says snaking his hand down to your throat, squeezing just enough. "Guess you won't find out because you've been such a brat. Shame."
"What're you gonna do to me?" He answers your question with a laugh.
“Oh, not much.” He says making his way down your body, pulling your shirt up as he goes. “Just when Kai and I discussed your behavior, we reached the same conclusion. If you’re not too fucked out of your mind, maybe you’ll catch on too.”
He marks those words with a harsh suck to your clit that pulls a yelp out of you and makes your hands shoot down to pull on his hair. Your movements seem to encourage him because he moves lower to tease his tongue at your hole before licking a wet stripe back up to your clit.
That alone has your thighs closing around his head but he quickly pulls back and pushes your thighs up.
“Hold them.” When you make no movements to, he fixes you with a look that has you scrambling to do as he said.
With that, he places a kiss on your mound before getting back to work. Sucking and licking into you before pulling back to nip along your thighs. Your wetness paints the bottom of his face and despite the harshness of his eyes, he looks so pretty that you have to look away from him.
You're too busy replaying the image of him in your head that you didn’t even register him moving his hand up to put two fingers inside but you definitely feel it and it makes you buck your hips up, chasing his touch.
“Gyu! ‘m gonna, oh god, 'm gonna come.” He doesn’t respond but his movements get almost desperate. He fucks his tongue deep into you and uses his fingers to press on that sweet spot inside you that pushes you closer to the edge. He waits until you're on the perfect edge to pull away.
“No.” His words make a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. You were right there. While he waits for you to come down, he presses kisses to your thighs, paying extra attention to the marks he left previously. When the desperate need in you fizzles out, he starts up again.
By the third edge, you have tears flowing down your face and pleas falling out of your lips like a prayer.
"Gyu, please, please! I-I can't. Please, 'm sorry, sorry."
"Go on then." You don't get a chance to open your mouth before he starts speaking again.
"I thought you wanted to come so bad? Why are you taking so long? Hurry up, before I stop again."
You open your mouth to apologize? Thank him? You don't even know yourself but all that comes out is a long, drawn-out moan that marks your orgasm. You pull on his hair and he comes up while placing kisses along your body while praising you.
“You did so good, love. So pretty and perfect for us. Such a good girl. It’s all over now, baby. You can rest and I’ll take care of everything else.” At his words, your eyes flutter closed.
<3
When you come to, you’re clean and dressed in another one of Kai's shirts pressed against his chest with one of his arms around you while the other holds his phone. His attention shifts from the phone to your face at your movement and he gives you a smile.
“Hey, baby.” He says with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”
You take a minute to think. “Good, if not a bit sore.”
“I figured you’d be.” He nods and then asks, “How was it? How were they?”
“It was interesting but fun.” You say with a smile. “They’re all very different than you.” And then with an afterthought, “and each other.”
“Good different or bad different?” His question would seem innocent if you didn’t know how to read him after four years of dating. You catch the way his arm tenses subtly from where it’s under you and the way his eyes waver a bit.
“Not good or bad. Just different.” You say with a shrug. Your words make him relax and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
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I'm sorry it took so long, but yippie step three was a success! I hope it was worth the wait! I'm not going to jinx anything but chapter four should be out sooner rather than later.
Kai being worried about how he 'measures up' to the rest of the guys isn't going to be a major plot point, but I do think it's important. As stated before, you've both only been with each other so I do think he'd be a bit nervous about if you'll end up preferring someone over him (that won't happen because Hyuka is amazing and we love him, but still).
Who do you think will be your 'first' kiss among the four?
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luveline · 9 months ago
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jade!! if your reqs are still open… would you write emily and mom!r? kind of like you’ve been doing with hotch or steve (with noah). i feel like she’d be one of those people who speaks to kids like they’re tiny adults
Emily presses the flat of her wooden spoon into a blueberry and watches the skin of it burst open. It sinks into the oatmeal beneath, a soft beige turning lilac. 
She flicks off the heat. She can’t cook like you can, but oatmeal makes itself. The mushy blueberries means the oats are soft enough for eating, usually. She dips a spoon in to check, adds a big pinch of salt, wonders if that’s stupid and eats another mouthful that burns her lips. 
“Ouch,” she mumbles. Slowly, she tips her head from one side to the other. “But yummy.” 
“Em-wy?” 
“What?” She turns on the spot. There in the doorway stands your little girl, an ever-present smile on her face as she lifts her hand for a wave. “Hello,” Emily says 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want?” 
“Water, please.”
Emily turns the handle of her pot before she bends down with her arms out, a gentle invitation. Sometimes Jane wants to be held, but usually she’s just hanging around. To Emily’s surprise, Jane skips and stumbles her way into Emily’s legs, where Emily takes her under the arms and pulls her up against her chest. 
She smiles at Jane’s little face. She looks so much like you, and she’s such a sweet girl. “Hi, baby,” she says, not quite slipping into baby talk, but softer than she’d spoken to her before. “Where’s your mommy?” 
Jane points down at the stove. “Breakfast?” 
“You bet. Is mommy still getting dressed?” 
“Maybe.” 
Emily shifts Jane on her hip and turns to the cabinet for a sippy cup. “Okie dokie. Let’s make you your water, ‘cos you asked me so nicely. You want some apple juice too?” 
Jane rubs her face against Emily’s shoulder with a yawn but doesn’t answer. 
“Babe?” Emily calls. “Can I give her some apple juice?” 
You swing around the corner. Emily’s apartment is big, sound carries, and yet she’d had no idea you were so close. You’ve changed your shirt but your pyjama bottoms remain, your hair out of your face —her heart gives a jump. To love someone and to know you’re lucky to have them simultaneously can often inspire tachycardia. 
“Sure,” you say. 
You’re wearing her socks, your pyjama pant legs pooled around your feet, and your shirt baggy but short at the arms. You have the most lovely arms. It’s stupid, but Emily knows it’s true. She could kiss every inch of each one without getting bored. Not that you need to know that about her. 
You slide across the kitchen tile to give Jane a light peck. Smiling, you turn Emily’s face with your pinky finger and give her an even softer one, careful of her makeup. “Good morning.” 
“Yeah, good morning,” Emily says, bouncing Jane higher up her side. “You look ready for another day in bed.” 
“Do you really have to go?” 
“You know I do, it’s Monday.” 
“We should petition for longer weekends. Don’t you think so, bubby? Shouldn’t Emily stay home and make us all our meals? Mommy’s still tired.” 
Jane hears your sweetened voice and holds her arms out to be held. You take her from Emily’s arms, and you lean against the counter as your smile fades. “I really wish you could stay,” you say more earnestly. “I miss you when you’re not here.” 
“I’ll be home tonight, I promise. They know you’re not feeling well, nobody expects me to leave you here with the baby all by yourself.” Not feeling well is an understatement that neither of you comment on. Emily just wants to rub the tension right out of your shoulders. She doesn’t have the time. 
“I used to be by myself before,” you point out. 
“I know. But now we’re together, and I love you, and I’ll be back tonight.” She hates the crestfallen set to your brow. “I’m sorry.” 
“No, I’m sorry. I’m being silly.” 
Emily thinks about it, her finger creeping up to rub Jane’s soft cheek. “Mommy’s not silly, is she?” she asks in a murmur. “She’s beautiful.” 
Jane nods her head clumsily. “Yes.” 
“See? If Janie thinks so, it must be true.” She smiles until you smile back. “I’ll be home by six. Cross my heart.” 
“Can I have another kiss before you go? Won’t mess up your lips, I promise.” 
Emily could never say no to you. She didn't want to, but she couldn’t. She leans in careful not to crush your little clinger and lets her eyes shutter closed, her breath held as you tip your chin down and your noses press together. You might be cautious of her makeup, but Emily isn’t. Her kiss is a promise that she’s gonna come home tonight. She can’t always keep them, but right now she’s determined. 
She pulls away. Your lips are red with transferred lipstick that moves with your smile. 
“Kiss me?” Jane asks. 
“Who, me?” Emily asks. 
Jane nod. Emily presses a chaste kiss to Jane’s chubby cheek, and rubs the lipstick away with similar tenderness. “Let me get you your juice, bub, and then I really gotta go.” 
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