#Is today a special occasion or something?
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the-universal-sun · 2 days ago
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I’ve been feeling a bit “blah” and apathetic today, so I wanted to write some head canons about a regressed Stan when he has those days. As always, I’m always open to helpful comments! Please enjoy!
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-It’s easy to see when Lee is feeling down-for Ford at least. Some may think otherwise given Stan’s disinclination towards speaking when he’s feeling small, but Ford can read his brothers body language fluently
-When he’s feeling���not bad but all-in-all “blah”, Lee isn’t as playful as he usually is. He just sits or lays there, absentmindedly scribbling or running a toy car back and forth, making no effort to make his cute little “zoom” noises or to draw a cohesive figure
-Lee doesn’t know why, sometimes he just feels bored in a way? He doesn’t know how to describe it. there are days where nothing really interests him and he just wants to nap all day
-Ford when this first started happening, kind of panicked and tried engaging Lee in activities he usually loved or things that were reserved for special occasions, none of which worked. This sent Ford into a spiral thinking it was something he did wrong. He just sat there, holding Lee and rocking him until he was feeling big again
-Stan explained that sometimes he gets like this for a day-kind of apathetic and feeling “blah”-but he’ll be fine the next day. All he needs is some patience. Ford of course throws himself full bodily into research. And in conclusion, whenever Stan or Lee are feeling a bit down and out, he just needs to breathe, not panic, and to be patient with him
-So, when Lee is feeling apathetic, Ford makes sure that Lee knows that’s is completely okay to feel that way, but he does give him some small tasks with clear goals to help him get engaged, just a little. He’ll ask Lee to draw or color him a specific picture, to help put together lunch or dinner-handing Ford different ingredients-or asking Lee to help him clean up the Shack/Boat. Small things that just help Lee get up and move and interact with the world. Ford always make sure to thank and praise Lee for his help and the pretty pictures too. Praise does make his Sweet Boy blush and become a bit more energetic
-Ford of course will let Lee curl up with his stuffies and weighted blanket against or near Ford and nap, checking up in him every hour or so to see how he’s doing. Lee may be mostly non-verbal when Little, but they learned some sign to communicate without forcing Lee to speak. That and, again, Ford can read Lee’s body language well enough to know if he needs help
-Lee, and later Stan, always appreciates Ford’s efforts to help him in this state of mind, and he tries his best to show it. He’s not good with words, but he’s great with physical affection. He’ll give Ford an extra hard hug, nuzzle into the junction between his shoulder and neck, and occasionally, a big, wet kiss of Ford’s cheek. Ford may act grossed out, but Lee knows his big brother likes it, his smile gives it away
-Ford will always worry about his little brother, no matter his headspace. He wants to just fix all of his problems so his brother can live happy and peacefully, but he knows that sometimes, all he can do is just be there for him and catch him if he falls. He loves Stan in all forms, so he’ll always be there for him, his good days and his bad ones.
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soliloquent-stark · 2 days ago
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Hi, would you have any baby's first Stony fic recs for a stucky shipper?? Like I want to read Stony but literally have no idea where to start or how to get there without feeling like "wait, where's Bucky?" if that makes any sense
Tysmia!!
hi! congrats and welcome :) i want you to know i am taking this task very seriously! i am a big bucky lover so i don't read bucky bashing fics anyways, so pretty much any rec of mine is okay from that sense, but i understand the difficulty in switching ships or having your fav absent.
so, i thought the best way to get acquainted with stevetony would be to read fics that contain bucky, or past stucky, or focus on learning about tony from steve's pov (since i assume you're most familiar with his perspective and character, so then you can fall in love with tony together). i also added some stuckony ones in case that's your cup of tea, but feel free to skip those. 💕
ps. almost all these are mcu, but let me know if you want comics/au recs too. but overall, for more recs, you can check this tag.
music by @treesramblings
Steve turns seventy-five today. Tony has a special plan in place to show Steve a happy birthday.
I used to use liquor to get me inspired (but you look so beautiful) by @underwhelmingalchemist
Steve was used to Tony's flirting. It was weird and slightly annoying, but it was just part of who he was. It was always surface-level compliments, comments on his ass and thighs, teasing him about his "pretty face". But when he was drunk, those comments turned to something sweeter and much more genuine.
more after the cut
Triple Espresso by @festiveferret
Everything is going great for Steve. He loves his boyfriend, his apartment, his pets. He finally has some opportunities to share his artwork, the coffee shop he manages is doing well, and Bucky is about to finish his exams, which means no more night shifts. It finally feels like life is on track. And then Tony Stark walks into the cafe and everything goes off the rails.
5 Times Bucky Thought Tony Was Good For Steve +1 Time He Told Him by Anonymous
To say Bucky is unimpressed by Stark would be an understatement. It isn’t that he dislikes him. It’s more that he’s a brand of indifferent that curdles with disdain on the rare occasion that Bucky catches him on the TV: Stark is glib and crass in a way his father never was, and he wears suits like he’d slipped out of the womb clad in Armani. So it’s a surprise when Bucky moves into the Tower and finds that Steve actually gets along with the guy.
some words build houses in your throat by only_more_love
The night before they travel back in time, Tony says what he needs to say.
A Partial Dictionary Of The 21st Century By Captain Steve Rogers, US Army by @copperbadge
Steve is adapting well to the new millennium, and he has the dictionary to prove it.
Equilateral by FestiveFerret
It was the way Steve had said, “I found him,” the desperate, agonized hope, that had Tony replying with, “Bring him home,” without any hesitation. But now, now he was hesitating like fuck.
felt with your two hands by @ishipallthings
Steve lets out an exasperated huff. “It’s just, I can’t shave.” It’s such a small thing to be upset about, and yet here he is, fighting the urge to tear his bandages just to look clean-shaven again. One glance at Tony shows that he’s surprised by Steve’s admission, eyes now fixed on the days-old scruff covering the bottom half of Steve’s face. (In which Tony helps Steve with shaving, and the close proximity leads to so much more than either of them anticipated.)
Feels Like Home by @tinystark616
Steve thinks there must be something fundamentally wrong with him when adjusting to his new life seems scarier than fighting an army of aliens. He knows how to fight. He's excellent at it. What he doesn't know is how to feel like he belongs in the future.
Catching Up Fast by Catchclaw, Crowgirl
Tony doesn't see the other guy coming, is the thing. Best mistake of his life.
everybody needs some affection by @meidui
It's for Steve's sake, Tony tells himself as he befriends Bucky. (But then it isn't.)
last call by @gottalovev
Tony didn’t prepare for Steve calling first. It's been thirteen months, why now?
Operation: Knuckleheads by FestiveFerret
Bucky is enjoying his new, post-Winter Soldier life at Avengers Tower, until he discovers that the constant tension between Steve and Tony was caused by a recent (and mysterious) breakup. Determined to make his friends happy, Bucky gives himself a new mission: figure out what went wrong, and get these two idiots in love back together again.
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diamondsheep · 1 year ago
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East Blue Crew ✨ !!!
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samodivas · 2 months ago
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if you think everyone has someone they love more than they love you, you're probably wrong. you fit into other people's lives in a unique way that you just can't fathom from your vantage point, so you only see the spaces you don't fill, and you automatically focus on that.
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peppermintquartz · 1 year ago
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you know that nice thing you bought to use on a special occasion but have yet to use it?
go use it
today is a special occasion! today is the right day!
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flash-from-the-past · 1 year ago
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Pany Pang Lovely Girl Merry Christmas
(from web archive)
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seiwas · 16 days ago
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these heels belong to this same concept
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another day of me believing that katsuki goes crazy when he sees you around the house wearing these
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propelbottle · 6 months ago
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sorry for being a downer y'all it's just been such a shit week
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consultingskeletondetective · 11 months ago
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Colonel's Girl
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You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.
masterlist 🩷 ao3
tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex
This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 
Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 
“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”
“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.
“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.
“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”
Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”
“Get out of my sight.”
Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.
König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 
“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”
Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 
“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”
“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”
“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.
“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 
You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 
A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.
“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 
You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 
You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”
“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.
Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 
The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.
You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.
“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.
König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.
“Sir-my breakfast…”
“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 
“Help yourself, ma’am.” 
“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 
König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 
You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 
It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.
It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.
“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”
You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 
König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 
It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.
“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 
“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”
“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”
König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.
“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”
König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.
“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 
“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.
The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.
You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.
“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.
“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 
König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 
Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.
“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”
“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.
“Have I offended you?”
Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.
“Just leave me alone.”
There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.
“As you wish.”
He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.
König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.
Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.
“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 
“Relax, he’s not going to know.”
“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”
“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”
“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”
They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 
It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  
You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 
A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.
“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.
Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.
The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 
“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 
You frowned and took a step closer to him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. 
“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 
“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”
“It’s fine, really.”
You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”
König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 
“Oh my god, what happened?”
“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”
“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”
“You didn’t.” He replied.
“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.
“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”
“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”
There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”
König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 
“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”
You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”
König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”
You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.
“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”
You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.
“It’s not important now-”
“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”
Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.
“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”
You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 
You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.
König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 
You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 
He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 
König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 
You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 
“May I ask you a question?”
Oh. “Of course.”
“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”
You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”
“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”
Forthright . You forgot.
You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.
“Right.” 
“It’s not your problem.” 
König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 
Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”
König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 
“What message?” König asked suddenly. 
“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.
“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”
Oh. 
“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.
“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”
You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 
“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”
“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”
Oh, this was very fucking bad.
“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”
“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”
You blinked. 
“Wha- why would you think that?”
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”
When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.
“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.
You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”
“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?
“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”
“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”
“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”
“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”
“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”
König didn’t respond. 
“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”
“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.
The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 
You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 
You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”
“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”
“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”
Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”
Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.
You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 
You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 
You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.
“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.
“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”
König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.
He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 
“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”
You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.
“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”
You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 
“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.
König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”
“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”
You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 
“What?” You asked.
“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 
“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”
You took a bold step forward.
“And are you?”
König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.
König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 
As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.
He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.
The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.
You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?
You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.
Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.
“Schatz?” 
Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.
König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.
“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.
He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.
The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 
You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 
You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.
“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”
It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.
“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”
You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 
“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”
“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”
“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”
One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.
Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 
He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 
Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.
“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 
“I - I want you, too.”
Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.
“K-König,” you murmured quietly.
“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.
“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.
“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.
“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”
“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.
“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.
He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.
“Did you just have an orgasm?”
“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 
“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.
“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 
“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.
“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”
“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.
“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.
“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”
“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”
“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.
“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.
“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.
“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”
“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 
Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.
“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”
“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”
“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”
You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 
“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”
“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 
“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”
He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.
You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.
“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”
“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.
“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”
“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”
You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 
Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.
“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”
“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”
König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.
“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”
“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”
“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”
“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 
König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.
You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.
“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”
He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”
You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.
“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.
“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”
This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.
“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”
He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.
“What?” You asked.
“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”
12K notes · View notes
dollgxtz · 4 months ago
Text
Getting Closer
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Word Count: 4.6k
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking
AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"
AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡
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Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.
Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?
"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"
Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.
Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.
"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.
You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.
"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.
"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.
"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.
"She seems pretty funny to me"
"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"
"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?
You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.
"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"
You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.
Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.
"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".
"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.
"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"
Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.
"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.
You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???
You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???
"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"
Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.
You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.
Your phone rings.
You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.
"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?
"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.
"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"
"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.
"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.
Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.
"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?
You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.
"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.
"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"
He hangs up.
You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.
But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.
Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.
You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.
Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.
The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.
"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.
"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.
"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"
You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.
"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"
"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.
That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.
You hang up.
Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.
You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.
You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.
Shit shit shit.
His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?
You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.
"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.
"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.
Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.
"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.
You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.
"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.
'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".
As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.
"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.
As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.
The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.
"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.
You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.
"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.
"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.
You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.
Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.
You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.
"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.
You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.
You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.
You hear footsteps behind you.
The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.
That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.
You collapse.
Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.
Wait. The balcony.
Fuck.
You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.
Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?
There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.
"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.
"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"
"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.
"Would you have heard me?"
"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.
You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.
"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"
Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.
"Surprise...~"
You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.
He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.
You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.
"Let me go!" you yell.
"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.
He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.
"So fucking predictable, as usual"
He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.
"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.
"None of those are safe words sweetie"
You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.
"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.
"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.
"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"
He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.
???
You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.
You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.
"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.
"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.
"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.
This bastard.
He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.
"Sylus, I-"
Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.
"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.
"Its supposed to"
"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.
"Calm down kitten"
"Sylus-'
"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"
You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.
"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."
With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.
Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.
You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.
When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.
Sylus.
You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.
"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.
"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.
"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".
You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.
"Yeah, lets go"
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miniimight · 7 months ago
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"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!
with gojo, nanami x fem!reader
notes trying out this writing thing again lol
in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'
now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.
it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!
GOJO
satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"
you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.
he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.
it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...
when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.
"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"
"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.
you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."
he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"
"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.
"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."
you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"
"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.
"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."
huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."
"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."
his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"
you nod.
"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.
you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"
"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."
"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.
"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.
you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.
he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"
you giggle. "okay."
"yay!! now let's go!!"
by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!
NANAMI
kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.
"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.
he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."
you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."
he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"
you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.
kento frowned. "oh..."
"yeah."
you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.
"y/n." he called you.
"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.
"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.
you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."
he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."
you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."
his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"
you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."
kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"
"um..."
"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."
it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."
"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."
"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"
"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."
warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.
he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."
he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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nvuy · 7 months ago
Note
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE TO THE BOOTHILL COMMUNITY I'm eating very well this week salute for your contribution 🫡🫡🫡 I also like the idea of sappy boothill he's the type to say "my girlfriend hates me I hope I die" and the Jessica and Roger rabbit dynamic is so!!!
he’s your ride or die. it’s most definitely a case of somebody asking “what do you see in him?” to which you reply “he makes me laugh.”
he’s so whipped to the point he’ll be in a serious debacle with somebody, guns drawn, throwing threats, but as soon as he hears the custom ringtone he’s set up that indicates that it’s you calling, he holds up a finger to his opponent and answers the call.
example: “oh, keep talking.” his gun is aimed directly in the centre of his opponent’s forehead. “one more word and i’ll blow a nice hole through yo–”
his pocket vibrates and chimes a ridiculous tune.
gun disappears back in its holster, the red targets in his irides fade and he turns his body away to answer the phone. “hey sweetie!”
his opponent is stunned. “wh–”
boothill holds up a finger. “of course i can buy dinner on the way home! what do you want to eat?” his opponent just barely hears a voice speaking on the other side of the phone. “mhm… i can get that… no problem… hey, you’re not working on friday, right? i’ll take ya out for dinner. there’s a nice little restaurant on the xianzhou luofu i think you’d like… sound good? i’ll see you tonight… love ya lots.”
probably makes kissy noises before he hangs up.
“seriously? are you–”
whoops. trigger finger’s a bit too itchy today.
adding onto what you said, he’s so sad when you’re upset with him. to me, he seems very disorganised and more of a risk taker. he’s got a body of steel; lots of risks won’t even leave a dent on him. he’s constantly running late to things, constantly leaving tasks unfinished to start something he finds more interesting. he’s in for the thrill of the ride.
one time, he forgot a date he himself had set up.
not only did he come home to find you clearly upset over it, but he was absolutely fuming at himself. apologised one million times to you, two million kisses, probably got on his knees, and he can’t ever forgive himself.
even if you’ve already forgiven him, you’re laughing and trying to get him to stand up because “you’re a grown man acting like this.” he latches onto you like a koala bear.
it’s not even that deep either. it’s just a lunch. it’s not like it was a special occasion. speaking of which, he’d never forget a birthday, valentine’s day, whatever traditional holidays you celebrate. never ever.
he’s actually such a sappy gooey loser it’s so sweet. his favourite thing to do is bury his face in your neck or your chest or your lap. he’s all over you like sticky sweet honey, and you can’t get rid of him that easily.
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months ago
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I feel like a more useful phrase for encompassing how Hollywood's Corsets Are Evil attitude underestimates women's intelligence, as opposed to "would we have worn something like them for 500 years if they weren't comfortable?" is
"would the vast majority of us have worn something like them for 500 years if they were absolute torture devices in 100% of use cases?"
would we have worn them if they weren't comfortable? just as a blanket statement with no further modifiers...yes. I've been watching deep dives on lip fillers while I sew this morning. people will ABSOLUTELY do things that are not only uncomfortable but outright dangerous, for beauty
however
"the vast majority" is a key difference here. most women don't get lip fillers, especially not to the point of looking cartoonish. most of us, regardless of gender, look at that and cringe. corsets were worn with the ubiquity of bras, and I cannot emphasize that enough. so it's hardly the same thing
and as for comfort...well, that's a moving target. I can't say "X garment is comfortable" and leave it at that, because different people find comfort in different things. and we all have different bodies, to boot. I don't find stiletto heels comfortable, and most people agree with me on that. I also don't find sweatpants comfortable, though- they're mostly polyester and therefore overly warm to me, and they make me mentally uncomfortable to wear because they're so far outside of what makes me feel happy and confident
and anyway, the media isn't saying that corsets were UncomfyTM. that's not engaging with the actual message. they're saying corsets were TORTURE. that they made women faint all the time! that they killed us! that they broke ribs and chafed us bloody! and that they did all of this regardless of how one wore them, because this is just How Corsets Always Work!
which is...demonstrably not true. some women did tightlace. that cannot be denied and I wouldn't try to. but go back to the filler situation- it's not everyone. and even some women who were willing to put up with tightlacing for special occasions wouldn't do it every day. some brides wear Spanx for their weddings now, who wouldn't touch the stuff 99% of the time
would it have happened, period, if it wasn't comfortable? yes, easily. but that's the wrong question
would it have been as ubiquitous as wearing a bra is today if it were a hellish pain-nightmare across the board? absolutely not
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hwaflms · 8 months ago
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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]
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{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/
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[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc
[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me
[☆] wc. 6.1k
[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh
[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p
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even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.
today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.
you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)
now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.
presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.
“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”
you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.
swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”
“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.
you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.
“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.
“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.
“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”
he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.
out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.
as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.
sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.
“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.
“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.
“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.
“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”
some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.
“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.
“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.
“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”
haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.
“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.
your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?
it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.
maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.
you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.
“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.
much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.
renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.
taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.
while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.
you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.
“are you okay with this?”
and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.
he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.
jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”
renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.
the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.
you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.
“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.
haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.
“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.
settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.
you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.
“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”
it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.
“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.
if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.
at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.
you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–
no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?
you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.
finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”
“who are you talking to?”
you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.
“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.
“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”
he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”
you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.
“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”
“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”
“…what?”
everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.
“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.
“like you want to kiss me.”
a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.
“am i wrong, pretty?”
judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”
normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.
he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.
you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.
no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.
“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”
you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.
you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”
your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.
“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”
everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.
though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”
even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.
“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”
if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.
“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”
his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”
you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.
you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.
he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”
your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.
in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.
“wait hyuck, let me–“
as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“
it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”
your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”
taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.
the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”
“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”
“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.
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seungfl0wer · 4 months ago
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Bangchan As Your Boyfriend
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Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
Contains Smut 🩵
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•He’s such a cute, giggly, bushy mess. He’s so giddy about everything.
•Finds everything you do just so damn cute.
•One of his favorite things is when you get to talking about something you love.
•The way you’re so excited about it just makes him smile while listing.
•The sparkle in your eyes just makes his heart do flips.
•Another thing he absolutely just melts at is you in his clothes.
•He finds it so cute and attractive just seeing you in his shirts/hoodies.
•The day he finds you all curled up in bed in his hoodie snuggling up to his pillow.
•Ugh man feels like his heart is on fire.
•He’s such a sweet Clingy man.
•Wants to always be touching you in some way.
•Is he slightly possessive or is he just doing loving boyfriend things?
•The answer is yes. Yes to both.
•He always has a hand on you. Either on your thigh, holding your hand, touching your arms. Anything.
•He’s very thoughtful.
•Remembers all the things you tell him.
•So when he’s traveling and sees your favorite animal, snack or favorite character in that one show you guys binge watched.
•He’s buying it for you.
•Speaking of buying things.
•Loves buying you both matching clothes.
•Finds it so adorable.
•He’s getting you both a whole wardrobe of couple outfits.
•Just loves showing you off.
•Talks non-stop about you.
•”y/n loves those!” “Omg those are y/ns faves!”
•“Y/n and I come here all the time” “y/n did this funny thing today”
•Plans out time for his schedule to make sure he has time to spend with you.
•Does in fact cry when he’s away from you for too long.
•He gets you to wear one of his hoodies for a while before leaving so he can snuggle it.
•Also cries into that.
•He’s just so head over heels for you it hurts being away for so long.
•When he does eventually come home.
•He’s all over you.
•You’re not leaving his sight for at least a week straight.
•He’s gonna be glued to you.
•Arms wrapped around you.
•Telling you how much he missed you. How much he wants to take you to the places he was.
•Giving you all the things he found for you.
•Also apologizing for leaving you for so long.
•Which you always playfully smack him telling him
•“I don’t mind, I knew when we started dating this would happen. At least at the end of everything you come back to me.”
•Your words always bringing tears to his eyes.
•Mans has a whole folder of songs he’s made for you.
•There’s some he’s shown you but a lot are special.
•For special occasions like birthdays/anniversaries.
•He also has a whole folder of pictures/videos of you.
•A lot. A LOT. Of unflattering ones.
•Has those saved in a special folder so you can’t delete them.
•He thinks they’re cute but you think they’d be perfect blackmail material.
•He really enjoys your input on things.
•Music, style, life. He really likes to hear what you have to say.
•Always checks up on you, just simple “did you eat today?” Or “Did you drink water?”
•Sends the sweetest good morning texts
•And you know something?
•The spark yall have never dies.
•The longer you date, the more he knows he’s gonna marry you.
•He falls more and more in love with you every day.
•Truly heart eyes for you constantly.
•Chan is really just the best, he’s so caring, compassionate and just.. the man you want forever with.
•And nothing would make you happier than to spend that forever with him.
︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵
•As loving as he is normally that transfers to love making.
•And that’s what it is.
•Love making.
•He’s so sensational, and passionate.
•You both definitely sit down and talk about what you both like.
•Chan always wants to make sure you’re comfortable.
•But god does he just lose control sometimes.
•His mind goes as he’s fucking you.
•He looks like a dog with his tongue basically hanging out.
•The noises he makes are so hot-
•This man’s vocal on a daily you think he’s not in bed?
•If he’s not making noises he’s talking.
•Big into talking.
•”Baby, you feel so good” “ah you’re taking me so good”
•”My love your milking my cock-“ “you’re so good for me baby”
•Ugh-
•Definitely loves interlocking hands.
•He can get a little rough sometimes.
•Spanking, Choking, hair pulling, probably has a daddy kink.
•I said what I said.
•We all know he does-
•He’s such a softy though.
•Soft dom for sure
•Always. Always makes sure you cum.
•You could have been an absolute brat.
•And yeah he’s gonna punish you but honestly.
•He’s gonna let you cum.
•Even if he says he won’t.
•He will.
•He always does.
•Also listen-
•This man’s going down on you often.
•So often.
•He just can’t get over how you sound.
•Can’t get over how you look when his tongue is lapping at your hole.
•Really just drives him crazy.
•So much aftercare. Ugh dude-
•Cleans you up, cuddles you, gets you a snack and a drink.
•”You did so well baby” “it’s ok baby I’m here I’m not going anywhere ever. I love you”
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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menagerofmischief · 4 days ago
Text
M4X
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summary: after max wins his 4th title in vegas, you congratulate him in a special way in his driver's room
tags: pwp, kinda sub!max, semi public sex, blowjob, deep throating, I went a bit wild on use of "champion"
wc: 1.4k
a/n: do I have an exam tomorrow? yes! am I in the middle of writing a lando fic? also yes! but ever since the race ended I keep thinking about this so I had to write it.
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You waited patiently, bounding on the balls of your feet as you gathered outside the RedBull garage alongside the employees, feeling like both your nerves and excitement were choking you up.
Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling when Max pulled the car up in front of the “champion” banner, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as you watched him get out of the car.
A quick pose for the picture and then he was pulling off his helmet and balaclava, eyes searching across the many faces in the crowd until they finally met yours. And then he was running, a smile on his face as he reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to spin you around in joy, both of you laughing through choked sobs.
“You did it!” You said, your voice cracking. Max put you down, your feet now flat against the ground and you looked up at him, looping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.
It was a desperate, passionate, raw and purely primal kind of kiss. The kind Max rarely allowed himself in public, but this was a special occasion. Open mouthed, his tongue stroking against your own, licking into your mouth desperately.
Finally the two of you pulled away, the loud cheers coming from the workers of RedBull filling your ears as everyone celebrated the win.
You part your lips, a breath coming out as your eyes meet with his and your lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Congratulations, champion.” You say, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go celebrate!”
Max nodded, leaning in for another kiss, shorter this time, and then going down to greet the rest of the team and celebrate with them before heading to the cool down car.
Once all the formal celebrations and interviews were down, and everyone gave their congratulations, Max went to search for you.
A brief talk with one of the mechanics let him know you were waiting for him in his driver's room and he wasted no time in making his way over there.
He twisted the door, stepping into the room and his eyes immediately scanning the small space until they landed on you, sitting on top of his massage table with legs dangling down, wearing one of by now very spottable shirts in the RedBull garage, with his name. M4X.
"Do you like the shirt?" You ask with a laugh, pushing your chest out a bit to show him the logo.
He hums, making his way across the room and to you, one of his hands grabbing your chin and lifting up your head to kiss you. "Love it," he replies, lips brushing against your own with each word he speaks.
You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back a bit, enough to give you space to jump down from the massage table. You circle around him, running your fingers along his shoulders and back.
“You looked so good today,” you purr in his ear, fingers grasping onto the zipper of his racing suit as you slowly start pulling it down. “A 4 time world champion. My world champion.”
Max groans at the words coming from your mouth and you take the moment to lean forward and press open mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck, licking against the spots you know are the most sensitive for him.
“Fuck, schatje.” He says, his voice coming out more as a broken whisper than what he intended.
You move your hands and start pushing down his race suit until it pools around his ankles and with just a second of effort he steps out of it, looking at you with wide eyes and pouty lips, almost as if begging for anything you want to give him, as long as it’s something.
“Go on and sit,” you tell him, gesturing towards one of the chairs in the room. For a second he’s completely still and you think maybe he hasn’t heard you but then he bolts towards the chair, practically tripping over his own two feet as he moves to sit down.
You pull down your pants and step out of them, the slightly colder Vegas air making goosebumps raise across the skin of your legs. You leave the shirt on, a pair of navy blue panties barely peeking out. 
Max takes in a deep breath as you sink down onto your knees in front of him. “Wait!” He says, and you still instantly, you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he gets up to grab his discarded racing suit and pulls you up just enough to slip the fabric under your knees before moving back into the chair. 
“Thank you, baby.” You smile at him, leaning forward and pressing kisses along the skin of his thigh, the muscles flexing due to him tensing up from your actions. “Now, I think my champion deserves a reward, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” Max says, his voice overly excited but you can’t blame him. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” You say, palming him over his boxers before sinking your fingers under the waistband. He lifts his hips in an effort to help you pull his boxers down and once you have them off you waste no time wrapping your hands around his already hard cock.
You slide your fingers over the slit, collecting the bits of precum that has already started leaking and using it as lube as you twist your hands down his dick. Max hisses, feeling pleasure overwhelm his senses as you lean forward, pressing a kiss onto the tip of his cock before opening your mouth and gently sucking on it.
Max’s moans are nearly pornographic, his cheeks flushed and lips open as moans and pleas slip past. You push your head further down, gliding your tongue along his length and pressing it just a bit against the vein running along the underside of his cock.
“You feel so good, schatje.” He says, his voice cracking. His hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair as he pulls it into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face.
He pushed your head down, not too rough, forcing you to take him deeper into your mouth until the tip is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is rubbing against his neatly trimmed base.
You hollow your cheeks around him, giving him a long suck before pulling your hair halfway up and then dropping it down again, gagging a little from the pressure at the back of your throat. 
It doesn’t take long for you to feel Max’s thighs tensing and slightly shaking as he approaches the edge of his orgasm, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He moans out, hips lifting off the chair as he thrusts his dick into your mouth, chasing the warmth around his dick. “So good, schatje, so good." Gonna make me cum.”
Encouraged by his words you speed up your movements, bobbing your head along his dick faster until you feel him twitch inside of you, and then filling your mouth with his hot cum. You pull off his slowly softening cock, letting it slip past your lips, and swallow.
You smile at him as you eye the mess on his cock and then teasingly lean back down to lick him clean. “You did so good baby,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his briefly as you go to stand up.
Max stands up, one of his knees buckling slightly, he leans down and grabs his boxers and pulls them up. “I didn’t get the podium today but this was so much better.” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You laugh in response, pressing your lips against the palm of his hand. “Come on, champ, get dressed.” You say, the tone of your voice teasing. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight.”
“Or maybe I’ll be hitting your cervix tonight.”
A laugh slips past your lips, your tongue darting out to lick them. “Maybe after a few drinks and some dancing.”
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