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dangerous-yam-fries · 6 months ago

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NSFW Yandere Alien x Human GN Reader - Introduction

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: kidnapping/alien abduction (tee hee), noncon/dubcon, uhhh not manhandling alienhandling?, MINORS JUST LEAVE I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU GO AS LONG AS IT'S FAR FROM ME

Zuri is the ruthless captain of the spacecraft Seed, plundering other ships and satellite-societies. Standing at roughly 8ft tall, his gray skin laden with tattoos and scars, long blue hair tied into dreadlocks, and his eyes. The first time you saw them, you weren’t sure what color of blue they were.

Whether it was the color of Earth, the icy planet of Kobu, or the reflective satellite society of Framtida, they were bluer than anything you had ever laid eyes upon before.

Zuri and his crews often robbed research ships for things of scientific value, usually to sell for I.U. (Interstellar Units).

It was your 3rd year working on the research spacecraft Argon. You weren’t a particularly noticeable employee, just a custodian of the first quadrant. So when the ship was breached by Seed, you didn’t think they’d bother to go after you.

You hid in your shared quarters, just sitting on your bed and guarding your belongings while you stared at all the other empty beds. You heard crashes and screams, alarms and gunfire, but all you did was clutch your pillow to your ears and wait for it stop.

But then you heard the unmistakable sound of a code being entered into the keypad of the room you were in. You dove under the bed, your body clinging to the wall as you stayed quiet. You saw pairs of boots walking through the room, heard hushed voices and watched as they looked under beds and rummaged through luggage.

The blood in your veins ran cold as they got closer and closer to you, and finally, you were face to face with a pair of impossibly blue eyes. You were so star struck that you didn’t struggle when you pulled out from under the bed and thrown into the middle of the room.

“Did you really think you could hide?” That sent a chill down your spine, or maybe it was just the cold sweat building up beneath your clothes.

You couldn’t speak, all you could see were those striking irises. It wasn’t until you felt a slap to your cheek that you spoke. “N-no.” You choked on your words, dread suffocating your throat as you prepared for the end.

When Zuri looked at you, he saw the fear that filled your eyes and how you forced your tears back. It made him want to fill you with something else, and make you cry.

So then Zuri gave you a choice, die right then and there, or join his crew. You chose the latter, but you slowly came to regret that decision as you begun life on Seed.

As a newbie, you kept your head down and did as you were told, but that wasn’t enough to keep the captain away from you. You thought that Captain Zuri wanted to kill you, or worse, so you did everything in your power to avoid him. But that only made him angrier. It wasn’t everyday that he of all people took an interest in someone, and your apparent disinterest in him left a mark on his pride.

Zuri thought long and hard as to why you weren’t reciprocative of his courting. He was obviously a powerful mate, handsome too, with wealth that could buy him a small planet if he so desired. Thinking about how to make himself more appealing to you only made him more obsessed, until you were all he could think of. An itch that he just couldn’t scratch, sitting rent free in his head.

For the next few months, you would be cleaning or doing repairs and he would be watching you. Sometimes through security cameras, usually brooding in a dark corner, or even looming over your shoulder. Zuri also gave you special privileges. You got your own room, small as it was, you always got off duty before meal times so you’d get early pickings, and you were even allowed to use the private showers.

But for some reason it wasn’t enough to cury any favor with you. You’re still as afraid of him as you were on the first day that you met, and it drives Zuri insane.

Humans are so difficult, so picky and confusing and complicated. So he’d have to make things simpler for you. Zuri found you on the east side of the ship, you were distracted with cleaning the windows. Well, not cleaning. The wash towel laid dripping at your hip while you gazed out the window into the void of space.

You looked so peaceful and content. But that changed as soon as you saw Zuri in the reflection.

You quickly apologized for getting off task, and you begun cleaning again. “Come with me. Now.” He ordered you and ignored your pleas, he dragged you back to his personal quarters, his grip unwavering.

He didn’t let go of you even once the door shut behind you both, Zuri simply stood in front of you, towering over you with his tall form. Humans have a tradition of getting down on one knee to profess their love, so that’s exactly what he did.

You were surprised that he was kneeling before you, and a little concerned. You tried to pry your wrist out of his hand, tried to get him to stand up, but he refused. Zuri confessed his love to you right then and there, his blue eyes looked so firm and steady, he was so sure of himself.

When you politely refused, he wasn’t even mad. Words and subtle gestures weren’t going to get through to a dense little human like yourself. So Zuri was going to fuck his love into you, then, surely, you’d know just how strongly he felt about you.

You were of course, extremely opposed to the idea, you struggled, but he was much stronger than you. Screaming didn’t work either, the room had thick metal walls with top of the line noise cancellation and isolation. Besides, Zuri was the captain, no one would have helped you anyways.

You were quickly stripped and thrown onto the bed, and Zuri kept a knee on your chest to stop you from running while he took his clothes off.

You saw his many tattoos, scars, and stretch marks from his muscles. And you saw his dick. He was already erect and dripping precum. It was large, and you could tell it was heavy too, some of his pre dripping onto your bare skin as he caged you in beneath him.

Zuri has waited for you far too long to wait for release, so you’re quickly forced on top of him, 69 style. You grip his dick while he services you orally, trying to stretch you out as quickly as possible. You can feel his ribbed cock throbbing in your hand, yelped when you feel a harsh slap to your ass.

You get the memo. He wants you to suck his dick, you can just barely get the head into your mouth as you rub and pump the rest of his length with both of your hands. You stop when you cum, the stimulus becoming too distracting, but this time he moves your body so that you’re straddling him.

You can’t bring yourself to look into Zuri’s eyes, the shame becoming too much as tears spill down your cheeks. And there it is. That look that he’s been looking for.

You look so beautiful stuffed full of his length, crying into his arms as he sends tremors of pleasure throughout your body.

You’re finally his<3

#yandere x male reader #male reader #yandere x reader #yandere alien #alien x human #alien x reader #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #female reader #gn reader

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werezmastarbucks · 2 months ago

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there's always a quiet one

masterlist - part 2 of 6

in which you meet a certain SUGA at Namjoon's birthday party

word count: 4414

warnings: none

music: steven universe by l.dre, already dead by lofi.samurai, unsaved info by joji, lost! by rm

Kim Namjoon has passed the test. Not only was he polite and not a maneater with a coke nose; he also seemed infintely grateful to you for protecting his baby sister. The capacity for compassion in his brain was just the same size as the others; he acknowledged even the fact that you knew nobody at the party, except Minji and Jungkook (and the latter, very vaguely), and asked you to be comfortable and not stress. Minji kept tugging on your hand and repeating that they are good boys. She seemed to like this phrase a lot.

First thing after finishing the conversation with birthday boy, you strolled towards the boat bar room where someone with black bangs guided you. His name was probably Taehyung because that's what Minji called him. You found all the people present on the marine vehicle absolutely stunning. They were like people from the TV - in their TV skins. It was maddening. All equally pretty, Minji included, which made you want to hide. You had no idea how usual people look to them and was afraid of meeting them all; you counted seven other men on the boat, excluding Namjoon, yourself and Minji. Jungkook, the guy from the music videos, billboards and CK ads, had an unmistakeably sweet baby face in reality. His gaze was curious and inviting, and he constantly chewed on his lower lip. On your way to the bar you greeted someone and recognized Jimin (sweet voice, object of obsession for crazy stalkers in the news) in this person.

"Are you also in BTS?" you asked him in a whisper. Maybe you should have researched beforehand, but Minji failed to mention their names until today, so. Jimin pressed his lips together and you saw he was trying not to laugh. His nostrils grew with the effort.

"Almost everyone is", he helped. He smelled like candy and his hair looked like cotton candy, too. Amazingly glistening eyes, like he was on something. But his careful disposition and tender voice betrayed his gentleness:

"That guy, in the Abramovich shirt? He is the only one who's not from the band. He's Namjoon's best friend. The rest of us are... well, us", he spoke English with elegant fairy accent of unknown origin.

"And you're Y/N, right? Minji keeps talking about you non-stop. You're the first normal friend she made in years".

This sounded sad. You nodded. Said that it was nice to meet him, and Jimin asked if you're okay.

"Yes, but I am a little star struck, even though I am ignorant about most of you".

Jimin bit his lower lip with a content smile.

"Yes, it's the vibe I give off", he suddenly changed into a very happy person, "no worries. No worries".

"I need a drink".

"On, Yoongi will make you one, he's already hiding in there", Jimin stabbed the air behind his shoulder with his thumb. "Have fun".

This wasn't mortifying at all, you thought. Jimin himself was like a butterfly that was more scared of you, than the other way around. The boat, although music blasted on the deck outside, was relatively peaceful: people (men) were sitting around on sofas, chatting, their legs crossed, and Minji, as you expected her to do, kind of forgot about you once she saw all her 'good boys'. She was somewhere outside: you could see the segment of her dark haired head in the small window.

You headed on into the bar and finally found yourself in a tiny, stylishly furnished space: same glistening wood, beige leather. You wondered if this boat was rented, or belonged exclusively to Namjoon.

A wide back stood at the bar counter, tee black, hair, raven black, in black jeans, all black. But when he turned around, his face was round and white like the moon. Before seeing him you were thinking that you've yet to meet a non-conventionally beautiful person in here, and here he was. You got fairly used to seeing the local faces everywhere, since you were in Seoul. Still, he looked slightly different, and you didn't know what it was.

"Hi", his voice was low and his mouth, round, produced the sound with certain roughness of unwillingness. He's already hiding in there.

Although, upon looking at you, his brow was raised a little, opening up the eyes.

"Y/N?"

"Yes", you walked to the counter and observed the variety of alcohol. You quickly got confused with the huge amounts of similarly looking bottles.

"What are you drinking?"

He sounded like a very diligent student of English that tried to enunciate his syllables. You hummed, head empty, brain busy working out his name. There was familiarity to his face.

"Something that I can drink for a long time and not vomit later".

"Got it", he said with a little bit more enthusiasm and started working at once. His hands flew up to a shelf and grabbed a bottle. You decided to test him a little.

"How was the funeral?"

Instead of frowning, or smiling, he replied nonchalantly:

"Boring as hell. They all had long faces like someone died".

Finally, you both snickered, delighted by the seamless run of the joke you synchronized. You watched him, and as the smile touched his lips, you could see his teeth, and finally, it clicked in your brain.

"Oh, I saw your face on a bus".

Yoongi's shoulders shook with silent laughter. The guy had the effortless magnetism about him. It was a shame, you thought, he wasn't attractive.

"It's weird seeing you move, like, in reality".

Yoongi twitched his head to brush off the hair from the eyes and finally turned to you with his whole body. His eyes started sliding down you, and stopped at the collarbone.

"I try not to move, generally".

He started stirring the drink and then craned his neck in search of a straw, allowing the tip of his tongue to travel across his lower lip. The thick silver earring shimmered through the black hair and you looked away. He was all shades of moon-pale and light pink. The more animated he became, the more interesting he got, actually.

"Minji keeps talking about you", he said with the undetectable tone to his voice. You spotted a colorful straw in a metal jar to your left and took one to plop into your drink.

"Do you need one?"

"No, thank you. She mentioned you work at a university".

"Yeah", you nodded, "what about you?"

He smiled again, letting out a sigh at the same time. He didn't look tortured, but seemed to avoid looking you in the eye.

"I am in a band. Here you go".

As soon as the first gulp of the drink slithered down your throat, you realized several things. Yoongi is super, painfully shy; or he plainly hates you. Also, he is great at making cocktails. He suddenly turned his eyes to you, dark in contrast with his pale skin, to see if you like it.

"Have you eaten?"

You were taken aback by this question. Only Minji asked you that usually, because she was someone close to you. Yoongi nodded towards the glass in your hands:

"It's strong. You should eat before you drink a lot".

You nodded,

"We had pizza in a taxi".

Yoongi's mouth was pulled in a smile again:

"Did Minji drop any pieces on the floor?"

They were really close.

"Yes", you laughed, "smeared the driver's seat with ketchup".

Yoongi winced.

"She is so funny", you said, heartfelt, a sudden wave of love for your friend washing over you. The silent laughter he mastered, that shook his shoulders, made you smile as well.

"She has been the greatest support for me in adapting here", you had no idea why you said it.

"Did you live here long?"

His H's had adorable rigour to them. He tried too much to sound as clearly as possible and that showed his inner hardworking, simplistic nature.

"About two years now".

He nodded significantly.

"Yes, being alone is difficult", his eyes pierced through your face, "where are you from?"

You named your country, and Yoongi nodded again, like he was recording the data into inner software.

"Imagine the shock of differences. The new job, the new people around, and generally, loneliness. And Minji just held me through that, for the last seven months".

Yoongi managed to smirk with only one half of his mouth, showing pale salmon of his gums. His mouth, producing careful and weighed sounds and words, working not to break the bridge of connection between you.

"You fail to mention how you killed her ex with a bottle of soju".

The Korean word that fell out from his tongue had a pleasant grumble to it.

You choked on your cocktail, and Yoongi pursed his lips and smiled only with his eyes.

"Is that what she's telling you nowadays?"

"I am hyperbolizing a little. But the point stands".

"Is he dead though?"

Suga ran his hand through his hair, texture so soft that it literally cascaded back, released by his palm.

"Who cares", he stretched, his voice low. Timbre was satisfying, scratching the right spot in your brain. You felt your lips and cheeks go hot and focused on your drink while the guy kept himself busy with his own glass. Yoongi was simpler about this and just poured himself some whiskey and plopped a cube of ice into it.

"I'm sorry", he said suddenly, and you looked up, "when I am not at my best, I am unfriendly".

"At least you're not loud like the upstairs", you murmured approvingly. The bar space was slightly lower compared to the main cabin.

"There's always a quiet one", he readily agreed, with the same kind of pride that filled Jimin when you told him about being star struck.

"Give me twenty minutes", he continued, pressing the glass to his lips, but he didn't have a chance to finish, as Minji threw herself into the narrow space of the bar.

"Yoongi!" she yelped, and stepped towards him, finding a place under his arm immediately. Yoongi pressed her to himself like he, not Namjoon, was her older brother. Her eyes twinkled at you; was she already drunk?

"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Oh, please for the love of Christ, don't start it, you thought and shook your head violently.

"No, you didn't".

Minji looked up at unperturbed Yoongi and left his side.

"Then I need to kidnap you. I'm already tired of them, and it's barely been an hour. Let's go on the deck".

And so she pulled your hand and relieved you of Yoongi's company. You tried not to attribute it to anything. He was, after all, a celebrity. Probably crafted face. Crafted personality. Maybe he had this specific role in the band, of the quiet and suave guy. You were happy to step away from him, thinking, how does Minji not get delirious, being surrounded by not one, but six of them?

On the deck, the sun was very slowly setting, and Seoul was floating on the side, slick, glistening, like on a vintage film. It was a breathtaking picture which you two enjoyed for a while. You took pictures of the sunset, and Minji gently warned you not to record or take pictures of the members, and you understood. She wasn't too concerned about it; she kept babbling at you to fill you in on who you're partying with.

"Seong-won, he's Namjoon's school time friend. He's just a normal guy like you and me. But the rest of them, you'll want to remember, you naughty foreigner", she scolded you playfully. "Have you met them? I've seen you talking with Jimin".

She met someone's eyes and you looked up. A tall guy passed you by and made a face at Minji. He nodded to you gravely, which you found funny.

"Do they all have a skill or something?" you laughed, "this one is super amusing".

Minji grinned.

"This is Jin. He is known as the most handsome in the band. My brother, Namjoon, is the leader. He is the most level-headed. You'll see tonight".

"I'd think Yoongi is", you raised your eyebrow.

"Great, you know some names! Yoongi is honestly sometimes a little unhinged. He is quiet for now, but wait until he gets into the mood".

She tapped her nail on the banister. The warm, juicy September air with still a huge whiff of August, was filling your nostrils and hair. A little bit more like that, and you'd get used to this feeling of freedom.

"Jimin is the gentle one, he is, like, always soothing to be around".

You nodded. Checks out. She was naming them like Pokémon: Taehyung is the unpredictable and smooth one; Jungkook is the youngest, and thus, he is everybody's favorite and also super talented. There's nothing he's bad at! Hobi, or Hoseok is the dancer, he dances everywhere, he can't stop dancing. Even now, when you turned your head to illustrate her words, the guy was moving smoothly to the sound of music.

"It's very easy to make him laugh", Minji added.

They all had a characteristic, you noticed. Like characters in a movie.

"They are good boys", she thought out loud, her eyes staring somewhere in the distance.

"Are you already drunk?"

"A little", Minji admitted, "I hope you have fun here. I didn't wanna force you, you know".

"So far it's entertaining, I must admit", you said. You turned towards the open door and was looking into the cabin. Yoongi emerged from the bar with his whiskey glass and walked slowly towards the dancing Hoseok. The latter instantly put his arm around Yoongi's broad shoulder. They swayed together slowly.

"They are super cosy with each other", you noticed.

"They have grown together, all seven of them. Jungkook was just fifteen when they started training together. They've been through all of it, everything", Minji's voice quivered a bit, and you stared at her with surprise.

"Sorry. I get emotional. They are..."

"Good boys?"

She gulped down her drink.

The party went on. As the sky turned redder, everybody went out on the deck to take pictures or just look. Jin was screaming at Hoseok (you watched them very closely to memorize their names):

"Film me! Film me now!" in Korean. You noticed that this whole company was trying to adjust when in close proximity to you and switched to somewhat broken but sincerely sweet English in your earshot.

"Picture, please!" Jin cried, when his eyes noticed you're looking, and started laughing at himself, "J-Hope, picture, please!"

It was honestly mellow and fun. They took pictures in pairs and in threes, and then you offered to take one picture of all of them, together, but they all couldn't fit in one shot on a narrow deck. Jungkook spent painfully long minutes trying to help you create a certain shape they could stand in, so that they would fit. He offered holding someone on his and Namjoon's shoulders, and got slapped, and shut up finally.

The sun was sliding down the dusty sky, skyscrapers on land growing darker, ember, and commotion slowly moved back inside where music became louder. Two cocktails down, you still felt adequate, thanks to Yoongi; he made you the second when you found him again at the bar. Back at the cabin, you enjoyed observing their chatter, unconcerned with having to socialise too much. Taehyung, whom you confused with Jin once, heard Jimin say to you "no worries" and kept mimicking him; everytime he passed you by, he asked something, or offered a piece of food like sacrifice, and kept saying 'no worries, no worries'.

Namjoon made it his mission to leave a classy impression on you, introducing everybody again, but way more professionally than his sister. He explained who did what in the greatest phenomenon of all time, which was BTS. You watched his mouth move with the words like "vocals" and "rap line" and hoped that he understands that all this information is about to skip your brain because you're getting slowly drunk. Still, out of respect he naturally installed in you, you listened and asked questions. You asked about the posters he's collecting, and what art he likes, and what books he reads, and he seemed genuinely intelligent and nice. His face was smooth, without a single defect, and he was a gentleman.

"I hope you understand that you are stuck with us for as long as you live here", he said in his impeccable American English that you also found borderline endearing and amusing.

"Huh?"

"Minji thinks she's in great debt to you. We don't know what Taejeong would've done if it hadn't been for you", he clarified, "he was always a very violent and abusive man".

You stepped a little closer to him and got a whiff of his subtle cologne.

"Why was she with him?" you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Namjoon shrugged.

"The mystery of attraction. Our parents raised us pretty well and she's never been slapped around the house like I have. So I don't know where it came from".

"You are very well spoken", you complimented him. Namjoon seemed pleased to no end, and for the third time today you saw a wild BTS prideful boy peek through:

"Thank you. I've been listening to American rap all my life".

The pairs switched. The sun was so low that the light switched on, and the mood changed. You managed to crawl towards an unoccupied armchair and fell into it to observe from aside. Someone was being loud in the bar below. Suddenly Jungkook exclaimed:

"UNO!"

"Oh, there we go", you heard the low voice above your ear. You hadn't noticed Yoongi, blending in with the black leather, sitting in the armchair next to you.

"Now we play Uno because Jungkook will nag until everybody wants to play. Then he will win and make everybody do a Lambada or something".

"At this point I don't mind", you mused, looking into your empty glass.

"Min Yoongi, I need another one".

His slow yet sharp eyes switched to you.

"Have you eaten?"

Everything happened exactly as Yoongi predicted. Jungkook had a special, strange grip on people: they cheated for him and pulled their punches on him. Being literally the youngest in the whole group, he got to laugh with his tongue out while everybody admired him. You won two games, Yoongi won two as well; everytime he sat next to you and you dealt on him, you said his full name out loud to remember it better. You did the same with your other neighbors. Jungkook won five games and everybody decided that it wasn't worth it anymore. Hoseok did Lambada because he hasn't won a single time. The music was playing loud enough, and people were relaxed. They started dancing and you might have joined, but first you went downstairs to fix yourself a new drink since your personal barista forgot about it.

Once you were back, you all but flew onto Minji who was dying laughing; she was thoroughly enjoying the boy's club, so you wondered if your presence was ever needed in the first place.

In the cabin, the following was erupting: Namjoon's childhood friend whose name you forgot because he hadn't sat next to you once in Uno, lay on the armchair looking completely dead. BTS in full number were joined at the shoulder, jumping together, all seven of them, chanting with the music. Jungkook was in the very middle of them. You've never seen such a explosively happy picture before, you thought. This was almost insane. They were jumping in synch, all chanting and laughing, even Yoongi, and suddenly, Minji shrieked:

"Maknae throw!"

Jungkook threw himself up in a hop, and Jin, together with Namjoon, on his sides, took his weight onto themselves, and in the next second Jungkook was in the air performing the smallest flip in boat dancing history. Once he landed, the chain was complete again, and they continued singing, turning towards their passed out friend, trying to wake him up.

"They do that every time", Minji was roaring with laughter, and you realized that your jaws were separated, and your mouth which was used to crying, swearing and yawning, hooted with joy as well.

More dancing ensued, and one body got detached from the rest and floated towards you. You were trying to collect your legs, knees spreading, alcohol circulating in your blood. Where Yoongi's professional, probably alcoholic hand, knew the exact balance between making it tipsy and drunk, you just poured yourself a whole lot of soju and added a little juice to it. As you noticed Yoongi's white face approach the armchairs in the pink-purple party light, you shook your head:

"I haven't eaten".

He disappeared like a spirit and then reemerged the same way. Your mind was skipping fractions of time, video input changing into flashes of moments: his hand, pale, with visible veins, holding a plate towards you, as he is sitting down. You take the plate as carefully as you can and shove whatever's on it in your mouth. The birthday cake and some fruit. You hope you eat it with a fork and not your hand. The present gifting ceremony went well in the beginning of the evening: even if Kim Namjoon, the millionaire, deemed your antique store vases worthless, he hid this feeling very deep inside. He looked sincerely happy as he observed them, and handled them carefully, passing one of them to Hoseok for inspection. Now, you finished his birthday cake, and potassium from the banana suddenly brought back some of consciousness to you.

"Okay?" he asked. You suddenly realized Yoongi is still next to you. His face looked quite different in this light: he pushed his hair behind his ears and looked like a gun for hire now. You informed him about it, and he replied with a condescending lopsided smile. You were past the point of trying to to embarrass yoursef in front of an idol. He didn't dwell on you too long, it seemed. Speaking in such loud room was hard.

"Why", you yelled, shifting your body closer to make him hear, "do you call yourself Sugar?"

His shoulders shook.

"It's not Sugar, it's Suga. I like basketball", he cut the noise wave with his hand, putting it like a shield against your heads as you leaned onto each other.

"There is a position in basketball, shooting guard. SU-GA".

"That's quite smart", you muttered.

"Thank you. Why do you call yourself spoilt?" there was a spark in his eye. He was smiling again.

You frowned at first, and he didn't help. It was a good five seconds staring into his pitch-black eyes before you realized the top you're wearing said SPOILT in nostalgic nineties font.

"It's because life spoilt me, you know", you strangely reminded yourself of Jin with his awkward, jokingly delicate English, "it's just so good to me".

"Do you know Sebadoh?" he asked. It sounded like a demon name. You shook your head, and the boat, together with Yoongi, swayed.

"It's a band. They have a song with this title", he pointed at your top.

"Spoiled. I saw you and it started playing in my head and wouldn't stop".

He found it amusing, apparently. It warranted another wide smile. While you were thinking of what to say to that, Minji joined you, her face glistening with sweat, hair slicked back like she was shooting an erotic movie. She looked good, flushed, the vein on her throat pumping. Yoongi raised his eyes and looked at her. For some twisted reason a small part of you suddenly had a hope that he doesn't ask her if she's eaten.

Minji crashed onto the armrest by your side and bowed down to hear you both:

"Whatcha doing?"

"Playing basketball", you uttered, your brain partying there, with the rest of the crowd. Minji opened her mouth showing her white pearl teeth. Yoongi gestured for her to take his armchair and gave her his place. He retreated silently into the dancing crowd, bopping his head lazily, then took a sharp step aside as Jungkook attempted to throw himself onto his hyung's shoulders.

"How do you like them?"

You had to give it to Minji, she didn't abandon you all the way and wasn't speaking nonsense. She was happily tipsy, her body clearly craving more dancing, more movement, more action. She was biting her lower lip, scanning them with her eyes.

"Which one do you like the most?"

She nudged you with her shoulder. You scratched your head and discovered a small cut on your forearm you didn't even remember getting.

"Uuhhh..."

"Come on. Tell me and I'll tell you", she flashed her predatory smile in the red light, and you felt corrupted. You shrugged.

"I guess your brother is the most handsome so far".

Minji made the funniest face, pursing her lips and bulging her eyes.

"He i-i-sss, isn't he? He's totally a heartthroob, Namjoon. Wow. I approve, Y/N. Do you wanna dance with him?"

A chucke escaped your mouth.

"No, I don't wanna dance".

"Ah, you're a party, hater, just like Yoongi hyung".

She got distracted and pointed her finger into the dancing male bodies. Yoongi was in the middle, his left hand clutching Hoseok's neck in a firm lock, and his right, trying to get the hair off his face.

"By the way", Minji laid her chin on your shoulder, about to deliver the craziest line so far, "I am sleeping with him. Occasionally. You know, no strings attached".

The music got really loud all of a sudden, bashing your head in. You lost her voice in the torrent of it.

"What? With Yoongi?"

Minji was already vibing again and gave you a naive, careless stare. She nodded, then moved towards you again.

"Yes, you see, I was so in love with Teojeong... I had to break this feeling, and one evening, we just sort of met, and he was in his white sweatshirt, you know I love it, and he made me laugh so much, God, I don't know what happened, but now we're friends with benefits".

"Is he good?" you wondered out loud, your eyes still transfixed on him, for the last time, you guessed. Jin stepped out of the crowd and crooked his finger, calling Minji in.

"Uh-huh!" she jumped up instantly, and you saw the back of her. The music changed, a slow song filling the cabin, and almost all the boys vanished from the dancing spot. Only Jin and Minji were in each other's arms, both drunk and giggling. Taehyung approached you slowly:

"Dance?"

He read it on your face, but still, his hand was in the air before you:

"No worries, no worries. Just dance".

So you danced with Taehyung.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x yn

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sergentreckless · 6 months ago

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You Drive Me Crazy

Boone x Reader (Twisters)

Summary: Your pretty red nails have Boone going crazy for you

WC: 1833

A/N: Omg hi, so this is the first fic I've ever written and I need legit feedback, so please message me if you have any thoughts :) I hope you like it <3 I'm a bit nervous for it, but I like it, I'm thinking of making a pt 2. if y'all like it. Okay love youuuuu

Also, please don’t steal my writing, I worked hard and my praise kink loves the hearts :)

Warnings: Smut for sure, more smutty thoughts I guess, desperate thoughts, I think that's it? let me know if i missed any, I'm new to this

Boone’s eyes locked on you from across the parking lot, where you stood chatting with Tyler about what storm you were chasing today. You looked wonderfully done up, yet he could tell it took no effort at all. How could you possibly look so good standing there in jean shorts and a tee? It might help that your shirt cut off a little above the waist band of your shorts, showing a bit of your bare tummy and a glint of your belly button piercing. It drove him wild.

You look up from the tablet you and Tyler are hovered over and notice Boone staring at you. Thinking nothing of it, you shoot him a sweet smile and wiggle your fingers in his direction, giving him a silent hello. He blushes at your smile, sending you one back, but that isn’t what keeps his gazed fixed on you. Yes, you were beautiful, of course he would want to look at you, though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. No, what really caught his eye, kept his attention, was your bright red nails. Medium in length, rounded off, knowing if you kept them in any other shape, they would break off, and you certainly couldn’t have that. You kept your nails in good condition, not having many opportunities to keep many of your things or appearances extravagant, as you were being constantly tossed around by the wind and rain that came with tornadoes.

Distracted by the thoughts of what those beautiful, soft hands would look and feel like, running down his midriff, playing with the elastic of his boxers, slowly making your way down, and grasping onto his—“Boone, are you ready to head out?” you asked him when you stopped in front of him with a light hearted, excited smile plastered across your face. You had jogged over to him after he hadn’t responded to yours or Tyler’s calls, figuring he just had a lot on his mind, not at all unhappy to come closer to snap him out of it.

Truth be told, you always had a bit of a thing for Boone, his exhilarating personality always giving you so much energy, not to mention, he was amazing to look at, his moustache being one of the features you appreciate most about him.

Boone nodded his head eagerly, still star struck by you, opting to not open his mouth, as he didn’t trust himself to not say something stupid. The two of you walked side by side back towards the red ultra-modded truck the three of you would be barrelling into as soon as you reached it.

Boone couldn’t help but fixate on how your hand wrapped around the handle of your door, watching your pretty red nails fold around the silver plastic. He couldn’t help his thoughts from wandering back to what he had been thinking of moments ago. Those hands looked so pretty wrapped around that handle, what would they look like wrapped around him? The thought got his blood pumping, the images of your delicate fingers with those decorated nails gripping his length, slowly moving up and down, overflowed his mind.

He quickly tore his eyes away from you, hopping in the truck and sitting down hastily, as not to get caught with the tent in his pants. He tried not to let his overactive imagination get him into trouble, but he was having a hard time controlling the perverted thoughts that raced through his brain. He couldn’t get the thought of it out of his head. How was he going to survive an entire day in the truck with you? At least he didn’t have to sit in the back with you… well he wasn’t supposed to until Tyler raced over to the truck with Kate, motioning Boone to the back seat so Kate could work her magic and find you the perfect storm. Boone’s heart pounded and his stomach did a few flips. Now he truly had no idea how he was going to get through the day, the urge to touch you, grab at you, and squeeze you burning in his head.

He was right, this was torture… but he loved it. He loved seeing the excitement on your face as Tyler drove into the pelting rain, ready to see the tornado you had all been waiting for. He saw your eyes brighten and your hands shoot up to your face, your reaction to a bail of hay intercepting your path. Thankfully your driver was good at his job, as reckless as he could be, and he avoided the bail with no problems at all. Boone’s eyes were fixed on your hands as they shot to your face, still haunted by the thoughts of them all over him. He had a moment of realization, comparing how he had always thought before to how he was thinking now. Any time he had thought of hands being put to use, he always imagined his on you, not yours on him. He was always having thoughts about what his strong hands would look like wrapped around your beautiful throat, gently cutting off your air supply, making you dizzy, and sending you into a different dimension. Or how his fingers would look disappearing into your warm, wet pussy, pushing in and out, trying to draw out as many moans from you as he possibly could. God, he was so desperate to hear what you sounded like when he was worshipping your body.

Your chase wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, not for you as Wranglers, that is. You ran your experiment, and collected your data as planned, and had a lot of fun along the way. You had noticed Boone had been quiet all day. It had you a bit worried, he was never that way. He always had something to say or a noise to make, expressing himself constantly; you loved it about him.

Arriving at the motel, you had all gone your separate ways, having a tiring day. Yes, everything had gone to plan, but being whipped around in a tornado is exhausting none the less. You unlocked the motel room door with the key Kate had given you five minutes earlier. After bidding her a good night, you set off to relax. You closed the door and set you bag on the floor next to the bed and headed off to the bathroom to wash your face, in hopes of feeling a bit more fresh. As soon as your hands felt the chill from the water, you heard a gentle knock on your door. Curious as to who could be knocking on your door so late at night, you gazed through the peep hole, seeing the man you were always sneaking glances at. As soon as you recognized who it was, your heart skipped several beats, releasing a slight panic throughout your body. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down and removed the only barrier that separated the two of you.

“You know, you really shouldn’t open the door for a random person in the middle of the night,” Boone quipped, raising one eyebrow, as if he knew better than you. You chuckled slightly, more preoccupied with the fact that he showed up at your door at all. “You know I could see you, right?” you ask back, gesturing to the little circle in the upper-center of the door. You step aside to let him in, assuming he has come for a reason. He steps through the threshold and stares at you as you shut the door.

You turn around to face him, wondering why he decided to pay you a late night visit. The silence gets heavy, weighing on the both of you, as neither of you know exactly what to say. You both open your mouths, ready to speak, even if the words weren’t well thought through. You see Boone ready to speak, so you instinctively close your mouth, ready to listen to whatever he has to say. He takes a few moments to think about what he wants to say, seeing how patiently you are willing to wait for him.

His arms extend out to your waist as he steps forward, hoping you won’t mind him touching you. After everything you have unknowingly put him through today, you deserve to know how he feels. Though he had a job to do, you were so distracting that he couldn’t focus on it all day. Instead, his thoughts were filled with visions of your hands wrapped around his cock. He wished his thoughts had stopped at that, but of course he was craving more and more. With the fantasy ever evolving, he started imagining what the addition of your mouth would look like. How pretty your lips would look wrapped about his dick, even better if your lipstick matched your nails, leaving lip marks all along him. Thinking of you sucking him off while stroking whatever of his length you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The thoughts made him so frustrated, he had to come see you to do something about the rock in his pants that wouldn’t go away until it fulfilled it’s purpose: filling you to the brim. You lean into his touch, relishing in the warmth his hands brought to your waist. Looking up at him, you meet his intense gaze, you can tell he wants something more from you. And you are so happy to give it to him. “You know, pretty girl, you’ve been driving me crazy all day.” You can’t help but notice the southern drawl in his voice, heat rushing through your body, centering at your most intimate area. “Oh yeah? How so?” you ask back, half of you flattered and the other half of you genuinely curious of what it is about you that is driving him crazy so you know for the future. “Those cute little shorts you’re wearing and that gorgeous smile drive me crazy baby, but… I just can’t stop imagining what those beautiful hands can do. How beautiful would your nails look wrapped around my dick?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. You look up at him through your eyelashes, looking as innocent as ever, sending an electric shock though his body at the sight. He grabs your chin with a firm, yet loving grip. “You truly do drive me crazy darlin’, I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He drags your face to meet his, locking your lips in a deep and passionate kiss. “You have been torturing me all day long, you know that?” he exclaims, bringing you in for another intense kiss. “Sitting there, looking all pretty, not knowing what you’re doing to me…” he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at your mouth like he is holding himself back from devouring it. “I guess I’m just going to have to show you how much you really do drive me crazy."

#boone twisters #boone #twisters #twisters 2024 #boone x reader #smut #boone smut #twisters smut #boone fic #twisters fanfic #boone twisters x reader #brandon perea

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hpalways · 10 months ago

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the star you were | Ken Sato

The man, the myth, the legend, Ken Sato. He was seemingly arrogant in his interviews, as well as relatively cold and distant from his teammates, as if he was untouchable.

You always assumed he had some sort of superior complex.

So... how did you stumble upon him at some measly convenience store, sitting there in a plastic chair like some loner?

It was as if he had no friends.

You tossed a cold fresh can of beer towards him, to which he caught it easily, blinking at you in surprise for a moment. His usual neat slicked back hair fell across his forehead as messy black bangs and the glow of his eyes were dull, despite the beautiful specks that adorned them. Truly, his irises were breathtaking, like stars, now that you could see them so close in real life.

"What are you doing?" he asked, with an almost offensive tone in his voice.

You shrugged. "You looked like you needed one." Without asking for permission, you slipped into the chair across from him and cracked open your own beer, listening in to the delicious foam created at the top.

"If you're a fan, you could just ask me for an autograph instead of being rude and bothering me like nobodies' business."

"Not a fan. Just thought you could use the company."

He scoffed. "I'm the one and only Ken Sato! I don't need company from some rando on the street."

"If you say so... you do look more sad sipping on beer alone though," you relented, getting up from your seat.

He hesitated, running his fingers through his hair in slight frustration. "Fine... sit down."

You plopped back down with a grin. "I must say, you look quite different in real life compared to the big screen. A little worse for wear."

Instead of rebuking like you imagined, he sighed and drooped his head. He took a large gulp out of the can, slamming it down the small table. "Just dealing with some personal things right now."

"Ah, that explains the recent plays you've done."

He shot you a glare and shook his head. "I... just need to get warmed up. I'll be back in no time."

"Right..." you said, sniffing.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked, raising a brow at you. In his typical black tee and jeans, he draped himself against the chair, the muscles rippling shamelessly. Indeed, the years spent training on baseball paid off, shaping his physique majestically. Perhaps that was why he had so many fangirls, not for his plays but for his attractive looks.

"[Name]."

"And who are you to be sending insults my way every so often?"

"I'm not." You lifted your arms up defensively. "I'm just stating facts. But funny enough, I get you. It's not like my life's going perfect either."

"Are you another reporter? Trying to dig up my deepest darkest secrets?"

"I'm not. But what is your deepest darkest secret?"

"..."

"Sorry. But yeah, no reporter here. Just your average day in the mill office worker."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" he groaned, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "That an average office worker relates to me?"

"Y'know, with that attitude, no wonder you don't have friends."

He grew silent, sipping more of his beer as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. His silence was your answer. But it also made you wonder. There had been a lot of rumors and gossip circulating around the Ken Sato. Was any of it real? And did some of it hit too close to home? Why was this man such an anomaly? Why had he not won any championships yet despite how impressive he was? Nothing added up.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I have friends," he said, averting his gaze. "They're just busy all the time."

"I see..." you responded, fighting off the smile from your lips. It was clear as day that he was lying, but you supposed you had been hard on him enough. "I'll be your friend."

"You?!" He eyed you up and down in dismay, before a lightbulb struck him. "Actually... yes! Are you good with babysitting?"

You choked midsip, confusion warping your features. "Babysitting?"

a/n: just a little bit of a ken sato drabble/dialogue play bc I'm obsessed with him right now hahahaha. lowk would write nsfw for this man oops, lmk if y'all want it LMAO.

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

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you're the one - j. cage

a/n: not proud of where my life has taken me, honestly. but this is for the love of my life, luca. hope you all enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! warnings: kissing, suggestive comments, johnny being like the worlds biggest flirt, nothing too crazy, but definitely a lot of sexual innuendos, teasing, inappropriate workplace relationship, kind of, light angst with a happy ending word count: 3.1k summary: you're johnny cage's assistant babysitter agent, and you're his opposite. and yet, he finds himself unapologetically into you. pairing: johnny cage x gn!reader now playing: you're the one - greta van fleet "you're the one i want/you're the one i need/you're the one i had/come on back to me"

You decide you can never be with Johnny Cage in a dingy bar on a Saturday at 11:19 PM.

You’d been his agent for around three months at this point, and you’re always with him, to the point where it became weird that you know so little about each other. And really, it’s a wonder that you lasted so long given how different you are.

You’re awkward, and there’s no harm in it, but you find yourself standing to the side of every movie set, glancing down to your phone to try and find a reason to send an email to someone to distract yourself.

Your relationship history is far and few between, you’ve only started dressing well recently, and you find yourself struggling in crowds and public speaking terrifies you.

Johnny is electric. He has no problem finessing a crowd, has no problem being the center of attention. He’s just unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

So really, you can’t say you’re shocked when you wake up one day and realize that you have in fact, developed feelings for him. It isn’t a tough thing to do, not when he’s always flirting with you.

After a rather large slump in his career, Johnny’s new movies have been doing well in both the box office and with movie watchers all over the country. Really, you became his agent at the perfect time because right after you started, he really became quite the star. Maybe the change of pace behind the camera worked out rather well.

He sort of feels bad, that you’re constantly with him. He doesn’t know when you sleep, because if he isn’t on set or doing press or getting ready to do either, he’s asleep, but every day when you show up to the set, you have a new agenda for him to follow.

When you do it, while also sleeping, eating, and taking care of your own obligations, he doesn’t know.

But one night, after three months of your help, he asks you to grab a drink with him.

(“This isn’t a ploy to get me alone and drunk is it, Cage?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”)

And that’s how you wound up here. You’re dressed more casually than he’s ever seen you, sporting this old band tee and some rather casual jeans. He can’t stop looking at you, and he’s a little confused about it.

He doesn’t get star struck often, but he has this thought, that maybe in one of Liu Kang’s alternate universes, you two ends up together. Maybe he fixes boats in a coastal town, maybe you work at the diner there, maybe you have a dog together. Maybe, in another universe, you and Johnny have a quiet life, where you don’t have much, but you have each other, and that’s enough.

“So how did someone like you end up in a place like this?” he asks, charmingly. You roll your eyes and take another sip of your beer.

“Well, this asshole I work for—”

“Hey!”

“He asked me out for a drink, and I don’t know if it’s because I felt obligated because he pays me, or because I genuinely wanted to, but I went out with him.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

“You make up for it, always flirting with me.”

“Can’t say you don’t like it, sweetheart—”

“Listen, Cage—"

“But you never answered my question. How’d you end up in Hollywood? We spend all this time together, yet I feel like I barely know my own assistant.”

“Agent.”

“Whatever. Answer the question.”

It’s a loaded one, no doubt, but not one you aren’t willing to answer. You find yourself unable to really keep anything from him, he just needs to know where to look for it, how to interpret it.

“I moved here from home, never

had much of anything—Family, Money, Whatever—Got an internship and before you know it, I’m networking my way to being Johnny Cage’s babysitter—”

“Agent.”

“Whatever.” You shoot back, a goofy grin on your face.

“Okay, let me ask you this,” He poises, “Favorite movie?”

You exhale, finding that a near impossible question.

“Oh, and none of mine! Then, it would be too easy!” He grins, and you shoot him this look.

You have a lot of favorite movies.

You take a few minutes before deciding on one.

“Paddington 2.”

“What?!”

“Paddington 2!”

“You cannot be serious!” He gawks. “Paddington 2 over, what? The Shawshank Redemption? Gladiator? Better than Aliens?!”

You take a minute.

“I’ve never seen Aliens.”

“What?! Big alien, tiny girl, Ripley!” He says the main character’s name in this high pitched, annoying tone.

It makes you burst out laughing, and he just laughs at your laugh.

“Nope, never seen it.”

“Oh my god! How do you work in Hollywood, and you’ve never seen Aliens?”

“Stop asking me if I’ve never seen Aliens, you know what the answer is!”

You both laugh again, and for a moment, it is perfect. There is no one else in the world except you and him, and there’s no reason to feel as if this isn’t real. There’s no reason to deny yourself the rather simple pleasure of admiring him, and there is certainly no reason to stop looking at him like you are right now.

And then this beautiful blonde woman strolls up to him. Even you can admit that she’s gorgeous.

“Excuse me,” Her voice is that of a songbird, “I don’t mean to bother you, but are you Johnny Cage? Like, the actor?”

“Indeed, I am, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink. Maybe we can go back to my table?”

You’re full of jealousy. You feel awful for it too, because in no way is Johnny yours.

“Uh, you know what..” He glances back at you, and you give him this weak smile.

“Go, it’s fine. Have fun, it isn’t like this is a date or anything.”

He grins at you and puts a fifty on the bar to pay for your drinks and leave the bartender a rather nice tip.

“You’re the best wingman ever, man! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You finish your drink bitterly as Johnny goes off to flirt with, and eventually sleep with, that nice woman. You take notice that when the two of you are alone, you’re ‘sweetheart’ but when another woman strolls in, you’re ‘man’.

And that’s it. It’s 11:19 PM and in that dingy bar, you decide that you can never be with Johnny Cage. You know it will never be what you want it to be. That if it does happen, it’ll be like it is with this woman. A one-night stand, never to be brought up again. You’ll get him all to yourself for one night, and then after that, he will never be yours again. He’ll go back to being no ones, back to being the spotlights. Back to belonging to everyone, except you.

• • •

To tell you the truth, you snuck up on Johnny. After you made it clear the first day you met that you had no intention of sleeping with him, he sort of wrote you off other than flirting.

And one day he woke up and realized how desperately, horribly in love he is with you.

It happens a few weeks after your night at the bar. You were supposed to spend the night filming an outdoor scene, but it rained so hard that the stunts wouldn’t have been safe, so here you are in his living room. He had sold his mega mansion for something less expensive—Still lavish, but not nearly as expensive.

“So, do you want to go over the script and make those edits that the studio suggested or—”

“Nope.” He comes out of the kitchen holding a big bucket of popcorn. “We’re watching Aliens.”

You sigh and plop the script down on his coffee table.

“Johnny—” you say in this exasperated tone.

“Darling,” He echoes, in that same tone but more sarcastically. What a dick. You can’t help but want him. He sits with you and puts the popcorn between you, as he turns on the TV and brings up the movie. “Say what you want, but you’re my assistant, so you have to do what I say!”

“Agent.”

“Whatever! C’mon, take one night off, just watch this movie with me!”

You glance over to him and sigh. Why do you do the things you do for him? You’ll never know.

“Fine. One movie, and that’s it!” You tell him and curl up on the couch, your hand reaching to the popcorn to grab a fistful.

One thing no one ever told you was how God damn scary this movie was! You aren’t a big gore or horror person, so it takes you by surprise.

It’s really good, though you’d never admit it to Johnny, just fucking scary.

At some point throughout the movie, one of you moved over the popcorn bowl, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

During a particularly scary scene, you find yourself jumping, right into his side, gripping his arm. Your heart is racing, but you’re so totally glued in.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You gasp, your clutch on his arm growing tighter.

“Pretty cool, right?” He grins, noticing your grip on his arm.

“It’s fine.” He chuckles and shakes his head, leaning back on the couch.

And that was it. He was hooked. He knew how his image had been around Hollywood, and he knew that you saw him as this playboy. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, especially since his divorce. But he wanted to make a change, wanted you to see the change, but he just couldn’t put his finger on how.

The rain is still pouring when the movie ends, when you finally pull yourself off his arm.

“I should be heading out.”

“What? You can’t drive in this.” He doesn’t want you to leave.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Just stay the night.”

“Johnny, I don’t even have clothes to—”

“I’ll give you some of mine. You can take the bed.”

You pause.

“Don’t think that this means I’ll sleep with you.”

He grins.

“Sleep in the same bed as me? Yeah. Let me do all these dirty things that I—”

You get up and head towards his room.

“I’m not on the clock, I’m not dealing with you.”

He grins and follows you.

“I don’t hear a no in there, hot stuff—”

“I swear to god, Johnny—”

You’re too busy bickering to get much sleep that night.

• • •

The movie comes out in two weeks, so on your agenda for today is fitting him for a new suit. You’re sitting, sipping a rather crisp mimosa when he comes out in this one suit. He does a nice twirl and holds his arms out, expecting approval.

He looks good. Like, good enough that you almost break that rule you made at the bar that night.

It’s been a month since you stayed at his place, and since then, things have just been different. You no longer must watch him go off and flirt with other people, because he seems to have some sort of change of heart.

You grin gently.

You put your drink down and stand up, going over to him and adjusting his tie.

He wears this black suit, except the suit coat is a deep blue velvet that is soft to the touch.

“You look great.” You tell him. He grins.

“Only missing my signature shades, good lookin’. That way you can’t tell when I’m looking at your—”

“Eyes, right, Johnny?”

“And ass.”

You laugh and shake your head, unable to comprehend that you feel anything except great love for that comment.

“So, what are you gonna wear?” He asks.

“What? To where?”

“To the premiere?”

“Johnny, I’m not going to the premiere—”

“You have to! You’re my assistant!”

“Agent!”

“Whatever!” His hands come to the dips of your hips. It’s a little too past platonic. You say nothing. “We need to get you an outfit.”

You groan. You hate shopping for clothes. You hate fancy clothes especially.

“Let me go order this to be tailored, and then we can go shopping for you. I’m thinking either blue, to match me, or gold, to compliment—”

“If I’m going to the premiere, It’ll be quietly behind all the cameras, not—”

“Then come as my date. Not as my agent, not as my assistant, not as my babysitter. As my date.”

“Don’t you want to go with someone pretty?”

He frowns.

“You’re pretty.” He tells you.

“Johnny—”

“No argument on this one, Darlin’, we’re going shopping,” he quickly kisses your forehead and walks off to go get changed and pay for his suit.

So that’s how you find yourself awkwardly fitting into this gold outfit, with black accents and the right curves to fit your body shape just right. It isn’t your body that fits awkwardly into it, it’s you. You’re not used to this level of formality.

“Come on out, sweetheart, I won’t bite!” Johnny calls from outside your dressing room.

“You’re gonna be mean to me!”

He gasps, “I would never!”

You sigh and adjust the outfit before walking back out of the dressing room.

“Don’t laugh—” But he isn’t laughing. He’s just looking at you. “You don’t like it.”

“Nononono—” he says, walking towards you and putting his hands on your shoulders. He smooths out the shoulders of your outfit, his thumb gently rubbing over your collarbone. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a barbie.”

“You look great.”

“I’m not used to this.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be a natural.”

“Besides, it won’t matter, everyone will be looking at you.”

He hums and shrugs.

“Everyone will be looking at you, I think.”

Your face goes red.

“Johnny!”

“I know you’re uncomfortable, but you do really look amazing, honey.”

You take his word for it.

• • •

When you get to the premiere two weeks later, it’s overwhelming. People are taking photos of you two, yelling his name, asking who you’re wearing. His hand does not leave yours.

“Just relax,” He tells you gently, “Just smile, it’s all you have to do.”

You do your best, trying to focus on the feeling of his arm around you as you pose. He glances down at you, tilting his shades down to the end of his nose. You can just make out his eyes. His hand comes up to your face and tilts your chin up.

He leans in and kisses you, as the crowds around you scream even louder. It occurs to you, at this moment, that he’s only kissing you to get publicity. That maybe he’s just taking advantage of the fact that you could be his mysterious new beaux. That he doesn’t want you, doesn’t want to kiss you, doesn't want anything to do with you.

You kiss back, not having any ability to resist how badly you want him anymore. You don’t care if it’s just for the cameras. You have no desire to pull away from him, no matter how pretend it may be.

When he does pull away, you make your way off the red carpet and into a secluded corner of the room.

“I’m sorry,” he starts.

“It’s okay, I get it, it didn’t mean anything—”

“What are you talking about?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry for surprising you so suddenly, it wasn’t where I wanted to do that, but I just.. I couldn’t help myself. You’re looking so good right now..”

“Not where you wanted to do that?”

“I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while.. I just wanted it to be romantic and amazing, like you deserve, but I just couldn't help myself.”

“Like I deserve?”

“You have a lot of questions for someone who just got kissed by me—”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to kiss you again?”

“…No.”

“That’s what I thought,” he leans to kiss you again, and you gladly let him. You only break off the kiss to take his sunglasses off his face, before kissing him again. Now that you had him, the want didn’t dissipate. Especially when you feel his hands on your hips again, and you only lean further into the kiss.

You can’t believe you waited so long to kiss Johnny Cage. Why would you ever deny yourself the right to make out in some quiet corner of a blockbuster movie premiere?

• • •

A week later, you’re sitting in that bar again. This time, you and Johnny have this booth in the back of the bar, and you’re leaning against him while he tries your extremely fruity drink and cringes at how sugary it is.

“I don’t know how you drink this shit.”

“I need to get nice and drunk after the day I had. Boss was being mean.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Yeah but He’s a great kisser, so.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your head. Somehow, He is more comfortable than he has been in a long time, feeling more like himself than he has in… years, maybe.

“It’s getting late, we should get you home soon.”

“Mm, But I like drinking. Besides, when did you become the responsible one?”

“When you ordered that fourth margarita.”

“Touche.” You finish your drink and sigh. “You’re not gonna let me have another, huh?”

“Not tonight, baby.” He says, patting your thigh gently. “C’mon, get up, I’ll go pay our tab and we can get some fresh air.”

You hum and get up, leaning against him as he makes his way to pay, and then you head outside to lean against the wall. Johnny keeps you up right as you try to breathe through the liquor. Then this girl comes up to you, and grins at your boyfriend.

“Are you Johnny Cage?” She asks. He bites back a sigh and smiles to her.

“I am, Hi—”

“I love your movies! Do you want to go grab a drink with me?” she asks, flirtatiously. You’re literally standing there leaning against him, with his arm around your waist.

“I’m sorry, you seem very nice, but I have to get my partner here home.” He says, “Have a nice night.”

She seems a little sad, but she bids you guys goodnight respectfully and heads into the bar.

“Your partner?” You ask, drunk on sugary drinks and love for this man.

“Yeah, they’re pretty nice.” He hums. “A pretty great assistant. An even better kisser.”

You frown.

“Agent!”

“Whatever.”

He leans in and kisses you to shut up before you can argue with him anymore. For once, you don’t mind his interruption.

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x gn!reader #johnny cage fluff #johnny cage angst #johnny cage mk #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage love of my life #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 x reader

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 year ago

Text

a/n: hi hello i wasn’t expecting to write barzy long fic but those damn musician mat photos KILLED me. also yes, i started this fic literally the day after the photos were posted but here we are. it needed major editing and also i need to like sit on it for a bit before posting. ANYWAY it’s here and i’m happy with it? i hate the title but whatever, it is what it is. enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🫶🏻

word count: 4.3k

tw: semi-public fingering but doesn’t go all the way, public thigh grinding

summary: hanging out in a dive bar on long island, the last thing you expect to see is mat with a guitar over his shoulder, joining the cover band on stage

When you look up from responding to a text and Mat’s nowhere to be found, you’re not really that surprised. He does this a lot - gets distracted and wanders off. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered by a fan, smiling gamely for a selfie and chatting for a bit. Every once in a while he gets roped into a game of pool, chatting with the random men like he’s known them for years. Once in a bar in the city, and this one nearly killed you, he struck up a conversation with Aaron Tveit - your favorite Broadway star and secretly a man that you absolutely would use a hall pass on - without realizing that he was talking to someone more famous in certain New York circles than he is.

All this to say, Mat disappearing in the bar isn’t a totally unprecedented occurrence.

You set your phone back down on the high top table and lean a shoulder against the wall next to you, crossing your legs at the ankle and taking a sip of your High Noon. It’s warm-ish now, starting to taste more artificial, and you look over your shoulder at the bar, scrutinizing the crowd that’s gathered and waiting for the bartender to notice them. It’s not worth it to leave the table since it’ll be snatched up in a second, so you flip your phone over and use your index finger to tap out a quick message to Mat asking him to get you another drink when he gets back from wherever he wandered off to - at this point you’re assuming there’s a major line for the men’s room. The little blue bubble floats up and shows it was delivered. Satisfied, you lean back against the wall, scooping your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand and holding it in a lazy ponytail so your neck can cool off a bit.

Long Island is a humid, swampy mess, August slipping away into a moment in time, as Queen Taylor says. But September is doing her damnedest to remind everyone that she’s still a summer month too.

Not that you mind, having been born and raised on Long Island and intimately familiar with the weather extremes, but it’s particularly gross in the bar tonight. Sweaty bodies packed in for the 90s alt cover band that’s supposed to be playing tonight. They’ve played at the bar before and they’re pretty good you have to admit, but right now you’re just wishing for a little bit of a breeze.

Giving up on your hair, you twist it up into a messy knot, securing it with a thin black elastic that’s seen better days. Three loops around thick hair, and you know it’s going to snap before the night is over, but you can’t worry about that now. There’s immediate relief from pulling your hair off your neck and now you can focus on the fact that Mat’s actually been missing for more than a few minutes. You tap your phone screen, looking for a message, but there’s nothing from him, just a few messages in the girls’ group chat talking about Monday night’s poker event. Wrinkling your nose, you look around the bar again, trying to see if you can spot your boyfriend.

It’s too dark though, Mat’s hair and black tee would blend in with the crowds. After a few more minutes of looking, you give up, rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, “he better not have found Aaron Tveit again,” before taking another sip of your High Noon. The spark of grapefruit flavour hits the back of your tongue and you pinch your lips together, swiping at your lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Drops of condensation roll down the can, making your hand wet and you wipe your palm on the fabric of your dress, already a little sticky with sweat.

Bored without Mat, you reply to the group chat and scroll through Instagram, double tapping on a photo Sofia posted of Olivia and commenting a string of heart eyes emojis. While you’re on your phone, the band takes the stage, a group of older men that have clearly been on the circuit for a while now. You start to swipe over to the phone app, ready to call Mat and find out where he went, when another man comes out onto the stage - this one much younger, much more handsome, and much more familiar to you.

“What?” The shocked gasp falls out of your mouth and either you’re louder than you thought or Mat just has radar to tell where you are at any given moment, because he looks over as he’s adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder and winks at you, his mouth curling up in that familiar cocky smirk you know and love.

Mat’s been fooling around on the guitar for years now and he’s gotten half-way decent in that time, but you had no idea he was feeling confident enough to play in front of a packed bar. Or that he knew the band well enough to ask or be asked to join.

The lights over the stage dim and brighten simultaneously and the band gets into position, drumsticks clicking together to signify the start of the set. In your excitement and rush to grab your phone so you can record Mat, you nearly knock over your drink, catching it at the last second. Mat grins at you again and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, looking down at the guitar to position his fingers. You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle the excited noises that start when the band begins to play - you want to make sure that the video you record has Mat’s playing, not your squeaks and cheers. He looks a little nervous at the start, focused intently on her fingers and the guitar strings, but as the song goes on, Mat gets more into it and relaxes.

The phone shakes in your hand a little from your excitement and the inevitability of you bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet as you get into the music too. Mat’s hair falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, long at his neck, and a flush of heat spreads through your stomach. He’s stupidly attractive up on stage, playing his guitar, and you’re ready to jump him. You lean up a little on your toes to get a better angle, the hem of your dress fluttering around your thighs. Mat looks up while he plays and spots you again. You move your hand from your mouth and grin brightly at him. He responds with another delighted smirk, shaking his hair out of his face.

Around you, the crowd is into the cover, singing along when they know the lyrics and dancing in that lazy way people dance in dive bars. You catch a few mentions of Mat’s name, eyes landing on a handful of younger girls that are staring openly at him and recording. You bite down on your lower lip to prevent the self-satisfied smirk from forming. There’s something extremely satisfying knowing that all these girls are thirsting over Mat, but you get to go home with him.

Mat shakes his hair back again and scrunches his nose up while he plays and the girl closest to you nearly yelps, “fuck, he’s so hot with that hair.”

Her friend chimes in with, “it’s giving Nathan Scott season four minus the depression.”

The first girl replies, “it’s going to be such a crime when he has to cut it for the season.” She’s not wrong - you always hate when Mat does the Lou-approved chop at the end of the summer.

You muffle a laugh behind your hand and focus on Mat’s playing. The song winds down and his grin is immediate and genuine. He shakes the hands of each of the guys and claps them on the back before wandering off the stage. You stop the recording and set your phone back down on the table, clapping and cheering along with the crowd. The band starts back up again and you bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for Mat to find you.

He ducks through the crowds, still grinning, and appears in front of you suddenly. Before he can say a word, you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and slanting your lips over his. One of Mat’s arms wraps around your lower back, holding you flush against the front of his body. You grin against his mouth - he tastes like peach flavored High Noon, chapstick, and the salt of his sweat. Mat’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you do, deepening the kiss and twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed up by your lips. The kiss lingers and fades out as you pull back for air, but then Mat ducks forward and kisses you softly. Your forehead rests against his and you exhale a little giggle.

“Hi, babe,” he laughs, whole face crinkled up in delight when he pulls back, one arm still looped around your waist. You can feel his hand tremble against your waist, betraying nerves or leftover adrenaline from his stint on stage.

“Oh my god! You loser!” You laugh, pushing at his shoulder with the palm of your hand. Mat grabs your wrist with lightning quick reflexes and flexes his fingers around your wrist, tightening gently before he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss your pulse point. Your breath stutters in your chest, but you continue, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to play!”

Still holding your wrist, Mat steps closer and shakes his head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I went to the bathroom, sort of got talking with the band,” he shrugs, “it just happened.”

“It just happened!” you echo on a laugh. “Well you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Mat ducks his head, ears going a little pink underneath his hair. He releases your wrist and scrapes his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands holding in place. Your back bumps against the wall and you realize Mat’s still crowding your body, one muscled thigh in between your legs. You hook an ankle around his, dragging his leg a little closer and the faint smile on his lips becomes more salacious, hungry. He leans his hand against the wall next to your head, caging you in. Your stomach flips and heat coils low, throbbing between your legs.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip and Mat’s gaze traces the movement, eyes darkening in a familiar way. His palm is flat over the curve of your hip, but his fingers curl up a little, capturing the cotton fabric of your dress and tugging the fabric up a little. A flutter of a breeze hits your upper thigh.

“Maybe you should quit hockey,” you giggle a little, blinking lazily, “and play guitar full time.”

“Yeah?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think amateur guitar playing is as lucrative as professional hockey.” His fingers twist in your dress more, making you glad that he has you backed against the wall and blocked with his body. He leans in, pressing his leg against your inner thigh, knocking it out an inch or so, widening your stance. Your entire body flushes with heat and it has nothing to do with the humid bar atmosphere.

Your head lolls back, hitting lightly against the wall, and you hum. “It’s really fucking hot though,” you murmur, tipping your head up so you can press a kiss to the edge of his chin. “All that fingering,” you giggle the innuendo, finding it cheesy even as you say it.

Mat huffs a laugh against your temple. His fingers loosen their grip in the fabric of your dress, letting the damp and sure to be wrinkled fabric fall back against your thigh. “I already have a fingering side-gig,” he informs you, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. He presses the pads of his fingers up against the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp, jolting your hips forward. He strokes the fabric slowly, dropping kisses against your temple and down the side of your face. He works you over through the fabric, sticky arousal collecting between your legs. The lace surely can’t be doing much at this point and Mat’s fingers slide over your inner thighs. His calloused fingertips catch and snag on the lace, stuttering his work and making your clit throb.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna let you touch me after that line,” you laugh, choking off into a little gasp when Mat snaps the elastic of your panties against the crease of your thigh.

“You started it,” he reminds you, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. His forehead touches yours as his fingers continue their exploration, trailing up and dipping under the waistband of your panties. Your stomach clenches when he stops inches from where you really want him and you bump his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to start things you can’t finish,” he warns, pressing closer to you, sliding his fingers lower. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline from the effort of keeping your legs from trembling.

You let out a harsh exhale. “Mat,” you mumble his name, grabbing at his wrist with both hands, trying to force his hand lower. He shakes his head against yours and doesn’t budge, your muscle strength no match for his. “We’re in public.” As if to punctuate your sentence, the drummer goes into a solo, the beat of the sticks on the drums pounding in time with your heart.

His fingers curl briefly and then they’re gone, leaving you cold and hot and frustrated. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. There’s an infuriating smirk on his face when you manage to look up. “I’ll behave.” He flips the hem of your dress down and smooths his palm over the fabric.

“I…what…Mat!” You stutter, the throbbing between your legs pounding in time with your heart. “You can’t just…” your voice trails off and you press your thighs together - or try to at least - Mat’s muscled leg is still in between yours and prevents you from giving yourself any relief.

Your absolute menace of a boyfriend holds his index finger - the one that had just been making a home in between your legs and is still wet with your arousal - up to his lips and shushes you. “Shh, I’m trying to listen to the music,” he smirks, sliding his other hand down the wall behind you and wrapping it around your shoulders, easily manhandling you so your back is leaning against his chest while he leans against the wall. You’re so stunned by the delayed pleasure that you don’t resist at all. Mat reaches around you and picks up your half-empty High Noon and knocks it back, holding the can lightly and sliding his arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, forearm pressed against your stomach. His broad palm rests on your opposite hip, blunt nails scratching lightly and absently.

He hums along to the music in your ear and you sink back against his chest, still frustrated, muttering, “I can’t believe you shushed me.” Mat exhales a little laugh and kisses the side of your neck, scraping his teeth against your pulse point. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck and you drop it back against his shoulder, giving Mat easier access to kiss your cheekbone. “Take me home,” you whine quietly, silently willing Mat’s hand to drift lower, but it remains stubbornly planted on the jut of your hip bone.

Mat’s nose bumps against your temple and you catch the scent of his cologne, mixed with the citrusy sweet alcoholic scent of the High Noon on his breath. He lazily rolls his hips forward, the hard bulge of his erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You grind back against him, whining low in the back of your throat. “Mat, please, I wanna go home,” you mumble, the vibration of the music rattling through your chest. Your hands wrap around Mat’s forearm, squeezing. “C’mon, take me to bed.”

“Babe,” Mat’s arm tightens around you, pulling you harder against his erection. You push your ass into him again, nearly grinding over the thigh that’s still in between your legs, desperate for relief. He holds you in place. “Thought we were in public?” His voice is slightly strangled, his breathing hitching when you press back harder, slipping a hand behind your back and in between your bodies. It takes a second, but you manage to wiggle your hand into place, pressing the heel of your palm, hard, against the fly of his jeans. Mat sucks in a sharp breath and he pinches your hip in warning, his head dipping down and his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a matching warning nip. You hiss at the sting of his teeth, knowing there’s going to be a mark there in the morning when he sucks gently at the spot, tracing his tongue over the faint impressions of his teeth.

“We don’t have to be,” you murmur, brushing your knuckles against the ridge of his erection. “You have a very nice car that can get us home in twenty minutes.”

Mat’s breath is harsh in your ear, the empty can in his hand making a crunching noise when he crumples it in his fist. Your arm is starting to go a little numb, twisted behind your back and pressed in between your bodies, and you’re desperately hoping Mat gives up and gives in to what you want soon. His hand flexes over your hip and you grind down on his thigh again, hiccuping a breath at the drag of his jeans and your lacy panties over your swollen clit. Faintly, you wonder if you’re causing a scene, if people are watching you both, but Mat’s hands aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be and your grind on his thigh could easily be mistaken for drunken dancing.

“Think you can wait twenty minutes, babe?” Mat jerks his hips into your ass, tossing the can back onto the table top and wrapping his other arm around your stomach so you’re caged against him. You wiggle your hand out from behind your back just before it’s completely lost feeling. “Moving pretty good on my thigh,” he bounces it lightly, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Think you could get off like this?”

Yes, is your immediate thought.

You have and can use Mat’s thick, muscled thigh to get yourself off. Most recently two nights ago, lazily grinding yourself over him on the couch while half-heartedly watching a movie. But tonight, with alcohol and lust fogging your brain and the image of Mat’s capable fingers working the guitar strings, you don’t want his thigh.

“Wan’ your fingers,” you turn your head and press the tip of your nose against the side of his neck, nuzzling him. He smells so fucking good. Mat chuckles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so good with your fingers.” Your hands cross your stomach, covering his hands, and you play with his fingers, lacing them with yours.

“You’re good at getting what you want,” Mat grins and you can feel the lift of his cheek against the side of your head. He squeezes you in a hug once, tightly, before loosening his grip. “You gotta walk in front of me to the car, babe. Hide the evidence of what you do to me, don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Your heart kicks up its tempo in your chest and you lift your head from Mat’s shoulder. “Home?” You ask brightly, wiggling and turning in Mat’s arms, your own coming up to loop around his neck.

“Yeah, home,” he laughs, smirking, cupping your cheek with one large hand and dragging your face up to his for a deep kiss. His hips roll mindlessly against yours and you lift higher on your toes to press flush against him, the throbbing between your legs building. When he breaks the kiss off, there’s a mischievous little gleam in his eyes and a slightly mean curl to his lips. “But you don’t get to touch. I’m gonna practice on you, okay, babe?” He taps his fingertips against your cheek, “just these. Gonna practice my finger placement.” Mat’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, obscuring the usual hazel-green color.

Your head bobbles up and down in an agreeable nod. You’ll agree to almost anything just to get Mat’s fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You also know that he’s a total softie and as much as he tries to act stern and tough, once you get into bed with him it’s only a matter of time before he gives up the act and gives you whatever you want. Honestly, you’re both too horny for each other to really commit to the bit. Plus, you roll your hips up into Mat’s, based on the rock hard erection he’s sporting, you’re not even sure Mat’ll be able to keep to the promise of giving you only his fingers.

His hand slides back from your cheek and tangles in the messy bun knotted at the nape of your neck, gently pulling so your face tilts up. “Let’s get out of here,” he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth and turning you around swiftly, one hand resting on your lower back to push you in front of him and through the crowd. You reach back and tangle your fingers with his free hand, a zap of excitement running up your spine when Mat’s hand slides lower and grabs a handful of your ass.

You’re navigating the crowd with Mat hot on your heels, purposely stepping on the backs of your sandals and laughing when you whip your head around to glare at him. His hand flexes against your lower back, warm through the cotton, and he uses his hand in yours to pull you back slightly so your ass bumps against his groin. “Gotta move a little faster, babe,” he teases.

“You’re a fucking menace, Mathew,” you grumble, a laugh startling out of your chest when Mat finally urges you out the front door and crowds you up against the front of the bar. Heat pools low in your stomach and you lick your lower lip reflexively. Mat grins down at you and ruffles a hand through his hair. It’s messy, the little wings sticking out around his ears and neck, and all you want to do is tangle your fingers in it and pull while he eats you out. And you tell him so, watching with delight as his eyes glaze over a little and his mouth goes slack.

“Why the fuck are we still standing here then?” He asks, voice a little strangled.

A giggle slips past your lips. “You tell me, Van Halen.” Your hands slide up Mat’s arms and over his shoulders so your fingers can twist in his hair. Mat hisses when you tug gently. “Why aren’t we in the car or at home where you can get those talented fingers knuckle deep in me?”

Mat groans your name and drops his forehead to your shoulder, growling a little against your overheated skin. His hands slide to your waist, gripping tightly. You grin wickedly, even though he can’t see it, and tug his hair again. “If you get me home soon, I’ll show off my skills,” you murmur into his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

“Fuck,” Mat grunts, grabbing your hand and nearly yanking your shoulder out of its socket with the force of pulling you down the street to his parked car. Your giggles echo around the quiet street, the humid air enveloping you and making your hair frizz around your temples. At the car, Mat pushes you up against the side, grasping your chin in one hand and kisses you, hard and bruising, his tongue dipping in your mouth. His other hand slides up your dress and he presses his thumb against your clit, the rasp of the lace on your clit providing extra simulation. Your knees go weak and you moan into his mouth, flattening your palms against the side of the car for stability. A rush of heat floods between your legs and the longer Mat’s lips are on yours, the wetter you get. At this point you’re not sure if it’s sweat or arousal that’s dripping down the inside of your thighs. He slides his tongue over your lower lip and rubs his fingers against your damp panties again, eliciting a strangled noise from the back of your throat.

When Mat breaks the kiss, pulling back from your face and breathing heavily, you blink up at him, completely dazed and lust drunk. He kisses the tip of your nose and squeezes the inside of your thigh and you giggle, unable to stop the words from slipping out of your mouth, “are you gonna play Wonderwall before or after I get my orgasms?”

A laugh barks out of Mat’s mouth and he pinches your ass cheek, making you squeal. “Just for that, it’s gonna be before,” he laughs again, reaching behind you to pull open the passenger door. You fold into the seat, making sure to flash Mat a little before yanking the door shut and grinning at him from behind the window.

“Who’s the menace now, babe?” Mat sticks his tongue out at you, laughing, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still you,” you tease back, wrinkling your nose at him, knowing he’s going to be so worked up the more you poke fun at him. “Now get in the car, I’m gonna put Wonderwall on so we can get straight to the fingering practice when we get home.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #new york islanders

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vulpixisananimal · 11 months ago

Text

(Warning for death and dagger usage under the cut.)

"Look out, everyone!"

"W-what do we do?!?" (Mirabelle looks panicked.)

"Just stay calm, we've beaten a lot of sadness' before, haven't we?" (You draw your dagger and take an offensive stance, falling back into habit.)

"Hey hold on Loop! We don't know if, if hurting it will hurt Ramos or. . ." (Glancing over, Isabeau looks hesitant.)

"We can't worry about that right now, it's about to attack." (Odile was ready, slow, but ready.)

"I-I've not practiced! Or, or fought anything for a while!" (Mirabelle was struggling struggling to stay composed.)

(You glance over with a smile.) "The house was only a month ago, we fought a lot. . . of. . ."

(Oh.)

(Right.)

(Your companions, they weren't ready at all. You never did fight that first house sadness with Mirabelle; Isabeau is still shaken up by Ramos' betrayal. Odile seemed at least somewhat ready, but how much had all of you kept up with training and fighting? You were out of pracice.)

(Stars.)

"Hey!!!! Don't just stand there crabface!!!" (Bonnie yelled from the side, glancing over, Nille was struggling to keep them away from the fight. It looks like she'd grabbed her hamer too.) "Fight!!!"

(Loop time. You snap your fingers.) "Alright everyone, let's be fast about it, just follow my lead~"

"W-we're really doing this???" (Mirabelle looked worried, but nodded.) "Alright! Alright let's, then let's do this!!!" (She gripped her rapier and dashed forward, slashing at the sadness. It glanced off like it was nothing.)

"S- Loop, I-" (You glance over at Isa, he looks shaken up.) "Are, are you sure they'll be alright??"

(. . .)

"They'll be alright."

(Isabeau time. He nods back to you and takes a strong, defencieve pose. You already feel hardier.)

"Loop, you do know about craft type advantages, correct?" (Odile glances your way.)

"Of course! What kind of star would I if I didn't~"

"How does that- nevermind." (Odile shook her head, and held out an open palm with a powerful paper craft. The sadness recoiled back, and then screamed.)

"Look out!!" (Nille yelled, the sadness came charging at Odile and struck out.)

"Hrrng--"

"M'dame!!"

"I-I'm alright."

(This isn't working.)

(Hush you! You're not helping! You shake your head and focus, come on Loop, you're rusty too, aren't you. Stars, when WAS the last time you were able to attack something.)

(Siffrin.)

(. . . Tee Hee, it was, wasn't it~ You rush in with your dagger and strike at the sadness. It felt like grinding against stone, but still, the sadness recoiled; a powerful strike.)

"Woah..." (Isa was staring at you, oh were you impressed~?)

". . Tee hee~" (You wink in reply.)

"This sadness is really strong, just, just be careful!" (Mirabelle clapped her hands, you feel a warm strength flow through you.)

"Hey!! Catch!!" (You turn, Bonnie came running out of the house with a few tonics in hand and tossed it at you and the party. Your crit chance increased!) "I found a few extras!"

"Nice work Boniface!" (Nille gripped her hammer anxiously.) "Crab you guys are strong."

"Saving the world does that! Hey! Ramos!" (Isabeau jumped from side to side, taking the sadness' attention. He looked your way.) "Got them distracted for ya Loop!"

"Perfect." (You hold out a scissors sign and slash with your dagger. Once, twice, three times and a crit! Oh how you MISSED this. Even if you were rusty and you were hitting rock with scissors, you still felt strong, so strong.)

(Odile time. She was holding her head in a hand before snapping to attention. She put out an open palm and. . .)

". . . Hrrnghh--"

(She stumbled back and held her head. Turn over.)

"M'dame!!!"

"Odile?!? Are you alright???"

"F-fine, I just. . ."

(The sadness roared and rushed at her again.)

"Crab!!!" (Nille rushed forward, she shoved Odile out of the way and blocked the attack with her hammer.)

"SIS!!!" (Bonnie started running forward, pan in hand.)

"DON'T YOU DARE!!! I'M NOT LETTING YOU GET HURT YOU-"

(Bonnie ignored their sister and ran to the Sadness while it was distracted, and BAM! A big blow from Bonnies pan that made it double over and back off of Nille, Bonnie quickly retreated to the back.)

(Nille looked surprised, you could only imagine what was going through her head, but you had to focus.) "Keep it up!"

(Mirabelle time, she held out a scissors sign and thrust with her rapier, another crit! You were really getting progress.)

(You might get this first try.)

(The was dripping with tears, and struggled getting upright. Untill it snapped its head back and shrieked, this time loud enough to hurt.)

"Hrrk--"

"W-what in Change--"

(Stars it hurt, it was rattling around your head. Was it still screaming? No, no it stopped, but, dammit you could still hear it!! You couldn't focus!! You couldn't think, you couldn't--)

(. . .)

(You breathe in and out. You grip your dagger and your teeth, and throw out a palm. [Paper].)

(The blast interupts the sadness. Making it sputter and cough. Stars. Finally. So annoying.)

"N-nice work Loop." (You look over, Isabeau is giving you a big thumbs up. Not Loop, but that didn't matter right now.)

"I-it's, it looks weak! We can beat it!!" (Mirabelle held out a hand and cast a quick healing spell on Odile, who was getting up and back into battle.)

"B-but, but Ramos will be fine, right? You're absolutly sure???"

(You nod. You didn't know, but you had to win.)

(Give me back the front!! Do you even ASK?!?)

(Battle first.)

"A-alright, alright!! S-sorry if this hurts!" (Isabeau rushes in and strikes out against the sadness, a strong punch that the sadness takes with ease.)

(Odile time.)

". . . . Cant. . . . Focus. . . ." (She's shaking her head.)

"M'dame. . ."

(The sadness looked between you and the others, it charged forward at you, looking to take your head off.)

"Move it!" (Nille again, she shoved you out of the way and tried blocking the strike. This time, however, the sadness slipped past her hammer and flung her halfway accross the yard. K.O)

"SIS!!!!"

"No!!! Is she ok?!?!"

(You grit your teeth. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid. Why did she touch you, idiot. She just got herself hurt. Fine. That was fine. You didn't need them, any of them. Stupid. Stupid Ramos. Stupid sadness. Just go away!!)

([Just attack])

(You strike out increddibly fast, fast enough that your body is aching at the strain, striking the sadness multiple times with your undevided attention before jumping back.)

(The sadness stumbled for a second, then roared, then screamed, then whimpered. It collapsed to one knee, then crumpled to the ground.)

(You breathe in, and out.)

(Mirabelle is now level 46.)

(Isabeau is now level 46.)

(Odile is now level 46.)

(Nille is now level 14.)

(. . .)

(Ugh, your head, that stupid, stupid thing, you were holding back, sure, but that's because you were already strained! You had been using time craft too much as is and didn't want to drain yourself! Didn't want to PROTECT Siffrin?!?)

(Looping again due to dying is worse.)

(You had it handled, it was fine. You shook your head and stumbled back. That scream was still rattling your head a little. Looking up, Mirabelle was running to Nille, and Isabeau to the Sadness, or what was the sadness? It looked like it was disolving.)

(So you went over to Odile. She'd sat down and was rubbing her head still.) "M'dame? Are you alright?"

(She shook her head.) "Hard, to focus."

(Concerning.)

(You hold out a hand.) "Let me help, I know a bit of healing."

"F-fine. . ." (With a bit of hesitation, you place your hand where you thought the wound was. Healing wasn't your specialty, but it was one of those skills you just learned after seeing Mirabelle do it hundreds of times.) "Did we beat it?"

(You tilted your head.) "Yes? We beat it, did you miss it?"

"I, can't think properly-"

"Sif!! Mira!!"

(You turn around, it's Isas voice, and he sounded terrified.)

(He was holding Ramos in his arms.)

(Ramos, Ramos wasn't moving.)

(You ran over, Mirabelle right behind you.) "Are, are they alright?!?"

"I-I don't know! I tried waking them up, a-and I checked their pulse, and, and--"

"L-let me see." (Mirabelle, put a hand to Ramos' head, then their heart. Her face was, well, it was hard to tell. She was focused.) ". . ."

". . ."

"I-I. . . I don't. . ." (She took her hand back, she was shaking.)

(Your heart dropped. They, where they, where they dead?)

(. . . Stupid.)

"How. . . "(You ignored your headmate.) "We've fought dozens of sadness and, but, how did. . ."

"I-I don't know! I-I-" (Mirabelle was hyperventilating.)

"Ramos. . ." (Isa was holding their body. He looked, he looked truly devistated.)

(. . . They were friends. That wasn't a lie, at least.)

(No, it wasn't. You don't know if that makes this more or less tragic. Stars. . .)

(Isabeau glances up at you, he was about to say something, then looked away.)

(. . . Do it.)

(For once, we agree~)

"I'm going back." (You say.)

"!?!?!"

"Huh??"

"I'm going back. Going to try again." (You sigh. Stupid. You probably could just go with this. But. . .)

"Loop I," (Isabeau looked at you, his eyes. . .) "I'm. . . W-well-

"I understand."

(We did kill Ramos, after all.)

(You ignore it.)

". . ." (Mirabelle looked your way, she was biting her nails. A person was dead. She probably couldn't talk.)

(Just go back. We've done enough here.)

(You sigh. You still haven't told me how you looped back before.)

(You know how.)

(. . . . You hypocrite. I'm not doing that.)

(. . .)

(You shake your head. What a pain. Loop was probably going to yell at you about using the dagger later. Stupid. You need an easy way to loop back, and that was the only way. Fine. They were gone for now.)

(You look at your companions. At Isabeau. He is sad. He wont remember. You turn to the side and take out your dagger. He wont remember.)

(You twist the dagger, and stab yourself. You feel a tug-)

(Bonnie is looking at you.)

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acesartemis · 5 months ago

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day three of @tommykinardweek -> supernatural creatures

for @dark-alice-lilith

“So, do you believe us now?” Tommy growls a bit after the question due to his current ... figure. He still can't hardly believe it and the fur is quite literally staring at him in the face.

A whine follows the question from a butterscotch-colored furry figure next to him the size of an honest-to-God, come-to-life Direwolf. Tommy leans over to give Evan a reassuring kiss — lick? — to the side of his face.

A human, hysterical laugh bubbles up from Eddie. “This — somehow — y'all are somehow messing with me. I knew those clams weren't — it's got to be — what bruja did you piss off?”

Tommy doesn't even curb the instinct to bare his teeth at the man. He could easily eat him, if he wanted to. Thankfully he didn't—at least not in that way. Instead, Tommy decides to head-butt Eddie so hard he falls over. “I knew we should have called Hen.”

Eddie rights himself, still snickering. He clicks his tongue and actually pets Tommy's head and when his hand moves just right by his left ear, Tommy wants to downright howl in pleasure. He's saved the embarrassment by another head forcibly knocking into his—Evan was never one to be left out.

The human of the trio laughs again, only this time it's fond. “Okay, okay. I can't forget about you, Buck.”

Evan positively beams as Eddie gives his ears a scratch, tongue lolling out and everything. It's absolutely adorable. “So, if we're stuck like this... What do we do now? We... don't really fit in a car.”

“Or a house,” Tommy chimes in. He resists the urge to scratch himself with his back... paw. He would not be caught dead doing something so… undignified, even if it were only in front of Evan and Eddie. Especially in front of Evan and Eddie.

“Wait, I got it,” Eddie says with a clap. “I wanted to surprise you both with a ski trip over the holidays, but this… whatever, is more important.”

He pulls out his phone, typing away with his thumbs. “Okay, so Bobby knows we’ll be out for the weekend. Annnd I texted Lucy to let your Cap know.

“This is so weird; I can't believe I’m gonna suggest this, but… I’ll drive and you two just,” he gestures at their wolf forms, “follow… by running, I guess? ‘Cause I don't think even my truck bed will fit you both.”

“Might as well make the most of it if we’re stuck like this.” Evan nudges Tommy’s snout with his own. “Race ya?”

Tommy gives his boyfriend a playful nip. “You're on.”

🐺🐾🐺

Twin blurs of butterscotch and gray follows Eddie's truck for hours as asphalt and metal and glass give way to grand trees in a breathtaking kaleidoscope of yellows and oranges and reds as they enter the Sequoia National Park area.

Eddie pulls up to a grand private cabin. The land is secluded and, Eddie remembers with a snort, “pet-friendly”. Thankfully a former Army buddy of his pulled some strings so that they could crash for however long this event lasted.

The man follows the path behind the cabin on human legs, happy to find the quaint back area to sit. The sun would be setting soon, bringing with it the chill of the night.

As he watches his boyfriends lope back and forth, legs long and strong and sharp jaws playfully nipping at each other, Eddie is struck with envy. Sure, this was a fever dream incarnate and Eddie still couldn't quite believe the two beings—now howling as the moon and stars come out—were real, there was a part of him that yearned to be out there, wild and free, with them. But he wouldn't let himself dwell on the dark path that was bound to take him on and just relaxed, snapping photo and video proof if this wasn't all just in his head.

—It would be just like his head to think up a grand concept and just... leave him out of all the fun—

Stop that.

Enjoy.

🐺🐾🐺

It was no surprise to anyone that Tommy tired out first. Being an actual wolf matched Evan's nigh-insatiable energy to a tee.

As the younger of the two continued his mission of sniffing every tree about the place, Tommy trots over to their third, grinning a wolfish grin, and gives Eddie a large, slobber-filled lick-kiss. The man startles a bit, his eyes adorably droopy.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.” He sidles over to Eddie, laying out next to him. Eddie's fingers find their way into his fur, akin to his fingers scratching through his or Evan's curls when they're lucky enough to get a quiet night together.

“Buck still... wolfing around?”

“Duh.”

They share a laugh. Tommy tilts his head at him, frowning at the sight of Eddie clutching his hoodie to his body. They hadn't planned for this impromptu trip, much less the weather. LA nights got chilly, but not like this. “Why don't you go inside?”

“And miss all the fun? 'M fine!”

A low whine rumbles in Tommy's throat and he nudges Eddie with his head. “We'll be fine out here, what with the fur and all. The last thing we need is an Eddie-sicle.”

Eddie huffs, “It's not that cold.”

“And you’re not in protective Army fatigues anymore, either,” Tommy counters. They both knew intimately what desert-cold was, and this was far from it. But now all Eddie was geared with was a hoodie. Tommy also knew Eddie had a stubborn streak that would rival a bull when he wanted.

“C’mere, then. I’ll keep you warm.” If Tommy still had his human brows they’d be waggling.

“Hell no!”

“C’mon, aren’t I soft?”

“Yes.”

“And oh so waaarm!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Evy, come heeeere,” Tommy calls, deciding to bring in back-up. “Eddie’s cold and won’t snuggle!”

Evan literally bounds over at the call, obedient as ever, tail wagging and tongue hanging lopsided out of his mouth. “Snuggles?!”

“Dammit, Buck, don't you dare!” Eddie warns but is blatantly ignored in favor of Evan (gently) body-slamming Eddie to the ground with his mass in a chaotic mess of kisses. Tommy gleefully joins in, wrapping his larger body around Eddie in equal parts protection from the elements and to ensure he doesn't escape. Eddie tries to wrestle Evan off of him to no avail.

“Okay, okay fine,” he relents with a fake pout, but Tommy is delighted to feel him snuggle back into his fur while Evan shifts to lay his head over Eddie’s body. They cocoon him thoroughly.

The trio are silent after that, taking in the breathtaking view of the clear starry night sky.

They are awoken by their shivering hours later, blessedly three humans again, only now two of them are naked. They high-tail it to the shower.

#tommykinardweek #911 #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddietommy #mywriting

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hardworkertshirtstore · 1 year ago

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guppybibi · 9 months ago

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It's Showbiz, Baby.

𖦹 pairing: Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader

𖦹 word count: 2460

𖦹 content: shinsuke is in deep denial, slowburn…very slowburn. hints(?) of body image issues and eating disorders. shinsuke is insanely oblivious. mild cursing.

𖦹 notes: a lot of the farming terms are from google…i i dont know how it works. Also just posted it on my AO3 ! (hearts4abbie). I apologize for any misinformation about the topics here, all of these are from google. next one is them having a silly 'date' tee hee:p

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ Part 1 ┊ Part 2

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

It was the break of dawn, and Shinsuke was already up and about in the fields; sleep was still in his system. He yawns as he tends to his rice grains, spraying on some fertilizer to increase the yield. Adjusting his hat that keeps him cool while under the sun, he yawns while intently watching the sky as he waits for the sun to rise. To his own surprise, he was met with a light tap on his back which obscurely startled him. His body instinctively does a little jump, yet his face said otherwise as it was still the same as before. Turning around to see who it was, expecting it to be his family. You were standing right before him in humble clothing, one wouldn’t think of you as a viral sensation with how you looked like right now. Shinsuke mentally shook his head, he shouldn’t stereotype that all celebrities prance around in designer clothing..

“Um..Shinsuke, right? Can I ask you something?” You asked in a rather meek tone which Shin didn’t really expect, sure he had already met you yesterday but he couldn’t just automatically assume how a person acted based off of one single interaction. He won’t lie, he has watched multiple of your movies with his sister and you coincidentally played all of the roles that required you to be rude and mean. He just..expected you to act that way in real life as well since you were so good at playing those types of roles. It was like you were meant to be playing the role of an antagonist in every movie you star in, yet the figure in front of him tells him a completely different story. “Yes, what do you need Ms.- um..Y/N.'' He curses himself in his head when he slips up, he had permission from her to address her casually; after all they seemed to be about the same age as each other. “Well I’m sorry for bothering you if I did but I heard there’s a plaza nearby? Do you know the directions to it?” You ask, fiddling with your hair as you anticipate his answer.

“The plaza..? Well I’m not so sure which plaza you’re referring to but the nearest one here is about an hour away..” He replies and gets a disappointed look in return, hearing you mutter an “oh..”. The air of dismay surrounding you struck something in him, he wasn’t sure he knew what it was but he couldn’t stand seeing you feel that way. He assumes it’s just his hospitable nature striking a chord in his system, a lady was in need of help; his client out of all people so he needed to help. “I’m actually stopping by there later this afternoon to drop off some deliveries, maybe you could tag along?” He offers, quickly catching your attention. “I’d love to! Thank you so much, I’ll pay you-""No need to pay me with money, I don’t need it.” He bites his tongue to stop himself from offering her to help her around the farm or cleaning his home, remembering that she was a guest and a celebrity. He shouldn’t let her lift a finger, she was here to relax; not to scrub the floors of their porch. Though you notice he was about to say something, urging him to continue. Humans had the right to speak after all! Unless he was an alien–no that was stupid..You couldn’t help but visualize him as an alien though..”No no! Go on, I’m not that sensitive. I’m sure I can handle whatever you were going to say.” You insist, the white haired man still looking unsure. “I..Maybe you could help with scrubbing the floors..?” He suggests, his voice barely audible as he tries to avoid your gaze. “That’s it?” You question, tilting your head to the side.

Shinsuke looks at you, raising another thin little brow. You spoke of the chore like it wasn’t a laborious task, sure it wasn’t the hardest one but it still required a good amount of effort. “You don’t really need to-” “No! I- I mean, I’ll do it!” Shinsuke knew that he had no place to argue back, whenever he had disagreements with women he always somehow managed to lose. Whether it be with his grandma or sister, it seems like it hasn’t changed until now. “Alright, I’ll take the silence as a yes. When do I start?” You ask, looking oddly excited to do such a chore. Shinsuke thinks about how his whole family is still asleep right now, not to be awake in a few hours or so. It would be best if she started while his sister was asleep so she doesn’t go batshit crazy when she sees her idol scrubbing the floors of her home. “If it’s okay with you, you can start now. When you’re finished, come back to me.” He instructs while you nod in agreement.

“The things you need are in the closet over there, thank you. If you don’t want to do it, you can always stop whenever.” “I’m not made out of glass, I can scrub a few floors here and there! I’ll be back.” Then you set off, Shinsuke could see your figure from afar–on your knees as you cleaned the floors. He can imagine his dear grandma scolding him for making a guest such as her clean their home. Eventually, you finish the task given to you; putting away all the supplies you used and proudly standing before the now squeaky floors. Looking over to the field, you see that Shinsuke was already pretty far. Running over to him, following his instructions earlier; you weren’t so sure if you were panting because you’ve been running too quickly for a while now or if your body is just tired from the task you just did. You always felt tired, you didn’t know why. Everyday you just felt so low on energy, like you were about to collapse and fall asleep. It never really worried you, you weren’t a sickly person–even as a child.

You stop in your tracks once you reach Shinsuke, who is still doing farm work. Hands on your knees and sweat beading on your forehead as you pant, you looked like you ran a marathon. A concerned expression arises on his face, about to reach out to help you before you start waving your hands. “I-I’m alright! I finished scrubbing the floors, they’re squeaky clean!” You babble, hands on your hips as you finally managed to lift your body up. “Um..alright, thank you Y/N. I’m actually about to finish up so we can have breakfast together? It’s 7AM already, unless you’ve already had your fill before coming up to me earlier?” Have you eaten yet? You don’t really remember, it’s not like you keep track of everything you do daily. You shook your head no, feeling your stomach grumble at the idea of food. You blush as you hear your tummy growl, wanting to shame your own belly from loudly announcing your hunger in front of your acquaintance. Shinsuke just smiles though, almost identical to the one his grandma always has. He doesn’t really notice the sounds of your stomach, not that he cares–it wasn’t any of his business. “Very well, come with me. I’ll just reheat some of the rice porridge we had last night, if that’s fine with you?” Rice porridge..It sounded nice, considering that the rice was made by them; a bunch of well trusted rice farmers–it must’ve been good. Yet the next words you blurted out next were quite different from what was on your mind. “How many calories does that have again?” You swore you sounded like a crazy health nut just now, realizing that it may have been interpreted as something rude. “It’s about 80 calories, I don’t see why it matters-” Stopping himself yet again, something felt weird..Shinsuke has never doubted himself, never. So why does he feel like he’s walking on eggshells when he’s around you?

Is it because you’re a literal leading light in the entertainment industry and could quickly trash his whole family’s name with a snap of a finger? No, with how you’ve acted so far; he can safely assume you wouldn’t do that over something so simple. However there really is something churning in the bottom of his stomach, you didn’t seem right to him. “80 calories huh..Well since I’m on vacation, I should treat myself to a good meal!” You mumble to yourself, shrugging as you watch and follow Shinsuke while you both trek back to his family home. You were honestly pretty surprised how welcoming he has been so far, is this how all province folk are? Wondering if his family was the same and that Shinsuke wasn’t an exception. You might as well move right here, this instant! “After you,” The bicolored man spoke, sliding the wooden door open carefully so as to not wake up his still sleeping family. Looking around his home as you step in, awe fills you once you see the traditional interior of the home. It felt strangely comforting, nothing you’ve ever felt even when staying at the grandest mansions back in the city. Everything truly has its own charm..”Make yourself at home, I’ll just heat up the food.” As Shinsuke excuses himself out of the room, while he heats up the food; the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. Perhaps it was just hunger, it must’ve been.

He’s never felt this way in a rather long time, the feeling has a similar tinge to when he was looking after his volleyball team way back. Watching over them like a proud father, feeling obliged to take them under his wing. Or the first time he saw his little brother, light shining on the swaddled baby as Shinsuke thanked the Gods above them. Care. That was what he felt. But why did he care about you? You were a mere client to him, ones he came across with everyday. What exactly made you different? He just couldn’t put a finger on it..He decides that he’ll soon do what he thinks is best, questioning his family about it.

Having breakfast with you felt natural, chatting about your two contrasting lives surely kept you both entertained as you gulped down the meal. The calming aura surrounding you both that felt just right was disturbed when Kimiko entered the kitchen, still in her pajamas with bed hair as she rubs her eyes open. She stood by the doorway, staring at you; recognizing you almost immediately. It took everything in her not to pounce onto you in excitement, she doesn't even know what to do first–is she still dreaming? She pinches herself, hoping she wasn't in a dream.

“Good morning Kimiko.” Shinsuke greets, interrupting Kimiko’s buzz as he drinks some water. Then you figure it was time for you to greet her as well, it’d be awfully rude not to. “Good morni-” “OH MY GOD! I- And you're having breakfast with my brother!?” She even takes a double take to make sure you were really eating together with her brother and he didn't even bother to tell her! She couldn't believe this, it was practically betrayal! “I’m Kimiko, it's so so so nice to meet you- I’m honored-!” She blurts out, taking your hand and shaking it instinctively. She was in such a thrill she didn't even notice she was crossing your boundaries a little bit.

What she did notice is how bony your hands are, a punch from you would definitely hurt..The inner Kita family hospitality and concern arises in her system, looking down at your linked hands. They were veiny but that was normal, but someone of your age and height shouldn't be this skinny. She slowly sets your hand down, apologizing for her actions. “It's alright, no need to apologize. It's a pleasure meeting you Kimiko, your family has been nothing but great since I got here.” You commented, flashing her one of your signature soft smiles that made everyone melt.

“And, thank you Shinsuke for the meal. I’m going back to my cabin, I’ll get ready for the ride later.” You then excuse yourself and leave the two siblings alone, once Kimiko makes sure you're out of the vicinity she gives her brother a knowing smirk. “A ride, huh? Got a date?” Shinsuke shook his head no, he was just doing you a favor after all. “No, she's going to the plaza so I figured it’d be best if we go together.” He gets a disappointed sigh from Kimiko, huffing as her excitement dies down. “Awh..too bad, I thought my brother actually scored a date with a celebrity!” The bicolored man was unfazed, used to her sister's teasing. Shinsuke never really bothered about his love life, putting his work and family as his top priorities. He knew it was important but he had to set goals first.

“Ya know I got eyes on the back of my head, I know you have a thing for Y/N. To be honest, you really aren't the only one so I’m not surprised. I wouldn't mind her being my sister in law!” Her words made the man think, he simply believed that this was just infatuation. She was a beautiful young woman after all, the whole world was aware of that so it really wouldn't be anything extraordinary. He wasn't one to believe in things such as ‘love in first sight’, those were just things entertainment made up. Kimiko knew what her brother was thinking, annoyed at it..or she's just a ‘little’ bit of a hopeless romantic. “I know you're thinking this is just infatuation again, and I’m not pressuring you to start a thing with her or anything–but if you feel something for her then go for it. Take the chance.” Again, this made Shinsuke think. He knew she was right, still–he never really had the heart to go further as ‘friends’ with the people he met. Not that he was uneducated about it, he was honestly just a busy guy. The part of her being a celebrity set him off a little bit though, her life was far from private and quiet. The complete opposite of what he desired, he felt like it wouldn't work out in the long run. “Um..yes, alright. Though I do believe a ‘crush’ of some sort is formed over time thr-” “Yes yes, we get it! No need to do some rocket science explaining, now go prepare the packages. I’ll have breakfast and clean up.” She cuts him off, pushing him out of their humble family home. Shinsuke grumbles under his breath..

“Maybe for once in my life, the results won't be just a byproduct.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x female reader #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #hq kita

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puck-luck · 11 months ago

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gamer guy | mattias samuelsson

warnings: dirty talk, dry humping, coming in pants, begging, a little degradation, mattias’ very deep voice practically causing reader’s orgasm pairing: mattias samuelsson x reader request: “mattias samuelsson’s thighs demand to be ridden…. and he’d be hella degrading about it….. don’t you think…..” yes, i do, but this is reader grinding against his lap wc: 984

“Yeah, baby? Is that right?” Mattias’s voice washed over your body like warm honey. His voice was teasing, his fingers tapping at your sides. “Feels so good you just can’t keep quiet, huh?”

Until about five minutes ago, he was playing his stupid video game, the one that made him bite his tongue in concentration. You hadn’t been too upset by his lack of attention on you, at first, but when his shorts started riding up and revealed the hemline of his briefs, you felt like you would start salivating any second lest your boyfriend get his big hands on you.

“Ti,” You whined, your hands gripping his t-shirt as you continued to grind down on his lap.

You could feel his cock through his clothes, practically bursting through the fabric with how hard he was, but he was a tease. He acted unaffected, shushing you and brushing your hair out of your face.

“Pathetic, aren’t you? Wiggling on top of me, distracting me from my game, just because you need a release? You could’ve asked me, baby. I would’ve helped you out.” Mattias smiled at you, goofy and wide. He wasn’t lifting a finger from your waist now, staying still underneath you.

“Need it, Mattias. Give me something,” You begged.

Mattias shook his head. “No. You started this, you have to finish it.”

You let out a groan that’s more akin to a sob as you continue to rub your core against his positively straining cock. “Couldn’t help it,” You said to him, pouting in his face.

All the pout did was make Mattias smile wider.

“Just… seeing you,” You pant out, “Like that. Made me think of all the times you made me feel so good, Ti.”

His smile started to fade and his fingers squeezed your sides.

“Your fingers– oh– they moved so fast on the controller, baby, and it made me think of all the times they’ve been inside me–”

Mattias’s eyes started to rake over your figure, fixating on your chest.

“And fuck, Ti, your tongue– I couldn’t stop thinking about how it moves against my clit. God, Ti, you always make me come so hard I see stars.” You ground down against him more frantically, feeling his cock twitch as you continued to speak.

He was silent, but his eyes stayed on your chest, watching your breasts bounce with each grind. His right hand drifted up to thumb over the spot where your nipple was pressing against your shirt, creating a pronounced bump under the soft cotton of the tee.

“Mattias,” You moaned, feeling the fabric of his member catch against your entrance in a long, drawn out drag. “Your cock, baby, your cock.”

Your breaths came out like a chant, like a cheer, and it was not lost on Mattias. For someone who seemed so aloof, so sarcastic, so “I don’t care what you think of me as long as I can make you laugh,” he was struck with the amount of love that dripped from your voice, even when he wasn’t giving you anything.

You fucked down on his cock, feeling it press against you but never enter you, and his eyes grew lidded as you let out your little whines and moans. His hands splayed out over your ass, covering the cheeks completely with how big they were, and his eyes drifted up from your chest to your lips.

“Think you can bait me into fucking into you?” Mattias asked, sounding unimpressed with your words. “Baby, you want me so bad, but you can’t make me do anything about it.”

You rolled your eyes, let down, but your mouth dropped open with a satisfying roll of your hips. Your clit caught against the fabric of his shorts, bunched up around his tip. You aimed to roll your hips in the same way, in the same spot, hoping the friction would bring you to the edge.

Mattias’s hands found your hips, grasping your hipbones and guiding you along his lap, even though he told you he wouldn’t help you get off. His controller lay long forgotten on his thigh, rocking precariously with each move of your hips.

Your pussy was dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts enough that the fabric was caught between your lips. If Mattias looked down to where you connected, he’d see a cameltoe and a wet spot along his shorts that showed just how badly you needed him, how badly you wanted him, and how badly you loved him.

“Come,” Mattias commanded, his voice low and soothing. “I know you can, baby, come.”

And, honestly, his words might have been the reason you tensed against his lap and felt yourself clench around nothing as the warmth spread to your fingertips. It was likely, even, that his deep voice and sureness, pure need, caused you to come just from a word.

It was then, during the aftershocks, that Mattias fucked up against you, prolonging the release for which you had worked and pleaded. His length dragged against you, causing you to flinch and cry out with each thrust. He fucked against you until his own release, his lips capturing yours as you felt the wet spot of his pants grow damper with his own come.

“Fuck,” Mattias said, pressing hard kiss after hard kiss against your mouth. “So good, aren’t you? Fucking yourself ‘til you come, letting me fuck up against you ‘til I come. My girl, so pretty, so good.”

The compliments falling from his lips made you whine, clenching against him and grinding down just enough to feel him growing softer after his release.

“Ti,” You whimpered. “Need you again.”

Mattias’s forehead made contact with yours and he chuckled, staring into your eyes with something that looked like disbelief. You nodded. This night wouldn’t end until you were both naked and satiated– and round two needed to start right now.

notes: hi. i’m drunk (at the time of writing this) (at the time of posting it, i'm in a showing of challengers that will likely start my threesome era). mattias samuelsson is a loser and i want him to be my big-boy (SZA reference) boyfriend. @yauchfilms introduced me to him and i need him BADLY. dear kit, if i get a chance with him, i’m taking it. idc if he looks 40 and gets chirped about it. he can be MY dilf.

#puck-luck's fics #mattias samuelsson #mattias samuelsson x reader #mattias samuelsson x y/n #mattias samuelsson smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#ms23

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520cafe · 2 years ago

Text

sour grapes. oversized black tee

you stepped out the bathroom with a new change of clothes particularly, an oversized black shirt. it was warm, soft as cotton and nicely wrapped around your body like a curtain but, it was that familiar scent that made you dizzy and almost drove you crazy. what is this feeling?

dan heng just finished setting up the bed in his room and immediately turned his attention to you once he heard the sound of the doors opening. it then fell silent.

it was the way his face softened at the sight of you wearing his shirt; it was the way his eyes went up and down in awe; it was the way a smile gently graced his lips with no effort of trying to hide it. his blue eyes held a light to them, and it was one of fondness.

“hey, dan heng?…” the slight shakiness in your voice did not hide how your heartbeat felt as if it was fluttering. he only sighed while still keeping the same endearing smile on his face.

“the bed is ready, what do you think?” dan heng stepped aside to give you a closer look. the look in his eyes glistened when he managed to capture your star-struck reaction, like he was admiring a painting that held no flaws.

“ you.. kept all of them.”

the sight before you was a small cluster of plushies neatly lined up on the pillows that possessed a special memory to you. without thinking, you sat on the bed and held one of them in your hands as the events distinctively played out in your mind like a vintage record player.

back when you and dan heng were together, there was one thing or “tradition” that remained unchanged within your past relationship: arcade dates. whenever you were unable to get a plushie from those almost rigged crane machines, it was your look of disappointment that would tug at dan heng’s heart strings and result in you carrying a handful of colourful and adorable plushies at the end of the day, thanks to dan heng.

whenever your eyes followed the dramatic fall of the plushie from the crane slowly losing its grip, dan heng would lightly brush his hand against yours and take over with a determined look on his face, intent on getting you that specific plushie and getting rid of those rain clouds above your head. in a way, it felt as if you were holding dan heng’s warm hand again from the way you tightly held the plushie in your arms, just like how it used to be.

“it’s not like i could just throw all of them away right?” he answered. yet, his voice was rather deep and lazy, steadily feeling relaxed and at peace within your presence. “but it’s getting late, you should get some rest now.”

“yeah.. you’re right,” you placed the plushie on your lap and comfortably rested your chin on top of the plushie’s head. it was as if you shot a cupid’s arrow directly to his heart because now, dan heng could feel his heart racing and pounding like loud bells in his ears. “good night then, dan heng.”

“good night, [name].”

before you could even respond to him, dan heng gave you a small wave as he walked into the bathroom and away from your sight. if you shot the first arrow towards his heart then dan heng must have bounced it back at you because, it was the way your name rolled off perfectly from his voice that made heat rush to the surface of your cheeks. his voice held so much affection and awe towards you just like how it did in the past, and those black and white memories of what was once a fairytale-like relationship were now gradually being filled with vivid colours and being retold to you like a story book. it felt so wrong yet so right.

dan heng heavily brings his hand to his chest while leaning against the door whereas you fell face first into his pillow on the bed. whatever this strange feeling was that caused your heart to feel an unknown nervousness, was the start to your internal snowball of conflicting emotions.

cupid has successfully done the first step to their job.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 11 oversized black tee

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : AAAAHHHHH woah what’s this i’m back to 2 updates per week?? honestly updates may vary but at least expect an update once per week! hope you all enjoy this chapter of sour grapes! <3

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

#🍇 ━━ SOUR GRAPES !#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail smau #hsr smau #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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