#but i do want to try to express more of the robotic bits
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ineffable-gallimaufry · 9 months ago
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i really want to try writing omega as more robotic but it's like really difficult i think
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s-soulwriter · 22 days ago
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Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)
Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):
1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.
2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.
3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.
4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.
5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.
6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying ���I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”
7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.
8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.
9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.
10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.
11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!
12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.
13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.
14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.
Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.
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wonderjanga · 15 days ago
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Marvel and Wonder Woman
@actuel-idiot is a major reason I’m writing this! They gave me the idea so the credit goes to them.
Diana has a special relationship with Captain Marvel. They’re family. Technically. But they’re family! The man has no problem treating her like one of his own, and it’s not like Diana has any of her other family in man’s world so she’ll take what she can get. The only downside is that no one knows his actual identity, including Diana. Half the people in the JL don’t even believe he has one, but when Diana asked, he confirmed he did. She hoped that one day he would share his identity with her, but for the meantime, she’d just continue to enjoy their bond.
Like, for example, Diana talks to Marvel whenever she misses Themyscira. The very first time she started missing her home was about a few weeks after the JL formed. (Marvel’s a founding member in this post)
WW: “Captain, do you ever miss home?”
Marvel: “Hm? I guess so?” *confused*
WW: “You guess so? Do you not miss Olympus? I assume that’s where you grew up.”
Marvel: “Oh, no. I’ve never been to Olympus. If that’s what you mean by home. It isn’t.”
WW: “Then where is your home?”
Marvel: “Well, I haven’t had a home in a long time. So, I can’t particularly say. All I know is that I can’t go back, and as the years go by, I hate to say it but I barely remember it.” He only knows what his dad looks like due to his Marvel form, and he only remembers his mom due to Mary’s form. As for what they were like? A lot of the memories are fuzzy. “So, unfortunately… there isn’t really much to miss.”
WW: “Do you think I’ll forget about Themyscira?”
Marvel: “I don’t know. But that’s why it’s important to make a home wherever you go. That, and if you really don’t wanna forget, you can always try and find people who used to call your home theirs.” *shrugs*
WW: “I don’t believe there are any other Amazonians and man’s world.”
Marvel: “Well… not technically.” *little smile* “You know, a few thousand years ago I was an Amazonian at some point.”
WW: “What…?”
Marvel: “Shocking. I know.” *little laugh*
WW: “But you’re a man?” *dumbfounded expression*
Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t always. If you want, I could tell you some stuff about the first island.”
WW: “The first Themyscira? You were alive back then?”
Marvel: “Yup.”
WW: *stares for a bit* “I’d… I’d like that a lot. Please share.”
The two spend the rest of the evening talking about all the lore about Themyscira, Diana’s mother, Diana’s aunts, the culture back then, the dialects, and so on.
Then, there was the incident with Circe. She had cast a spell on Diana, turning her into a child. After it had happened, she left and soon a mini Diana was swarmed by the leaguers.
Marvel: “Wait, so she still knows who we all are, she’s just a little kid?”
Batman: *nods head* “Correct.”
WW: *looking around as the other leaguers fawn over her cause she’s adorable*
Batman: “It also altered her mindset, making her more childish.”
WW: *spots Marvel and her eyes sparkle* “Big brother!” *runs over to Marvel and crashes into his legs hugging them*
Marvel: “Woah!” *slightly startled at her running over* “Wow, Diana, you’re still so strong.” *takes on the tone he uses to talk to Darla (aka big brother/father tone) as he leans down to pick her up*
WW: *nods head* “Yeah!”
Marvel: *moves to carry her like she’s his own daughter*
The two proceed to talk about whatever as the other JL members coo at the two looking like father and daughter. Same black hair and blue eyes. Also, Zeus was gnawing at the bars of his metaphorical cage when he saw this. His daughter was too precious. As soon as the other leaguers blinked, he took little Diana and they proceeded to go fight Mr.Mind together. They then went for ice cream afterwords. Now, they’re eating their respective cones while sitting on the edge of a building.
Marvel: “You did such a good job, Diana. That one punch at that one robot that sent it flying into three other ones was amazing.” *smiles and ruffles Diana’s hair*
WW: *giggles and licks ice cream* “Thanks, dad.”
Marvel: *pauses mid bite of ice cream* (Yes, I’m making Billy bite his ice cream)
WW: *doesn’t even realize she said that*
Zeus: “You… YOU STOLE MY DAUGHTER?!” *thunderclouds in the distance*
Billy proceeded to have to make many offerings to Zeus to make him calm down after the incident. For a week straight, he kept getting little shocks whenever he touched stuff.
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yawujin · 6 months ago
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how the v3 boys would react to being called a 'pretty boy'
type | short-read , reaction , non killing game, lighthearted, fluff , gender neutral reader.
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shuichi saihara ♡
he would be caught off guard
he would begin to smile and not be able to stop
that is, until he clears his throat to stop himself
you could still see his lips though
he looked so funny trying to hide his expression from you
"that's—" he would start, but give up and just let out an awkward laugh
'that means a lot coming from someone like you'
is what he would say but
he's still so very shy whenever you're near
poor boy bless him
rantaro amami ♡
he'd be very accepting towards your compliment
he gets it a lot after all
he's very sweet though so
he would definitely give you a compliment in return
then you become the one who's flustered
"what can i say? it's true (Y/N)." he smiles
internally you're just like '!!!"
but in the end you take the compliment
you just can't deny it
K1B0/kiibo ♡
oh, he's very flattered
believe me
he just doesn't know how to express it
human emotions are hard
"thanks! uh—really..."
how do you even return a compliment?
think, kiibo, think!
all in all, he wants to give one back buttt
he wants it to seem heartfelt and NOT robotic
he'll get back to you later, bringing you a whole thank you card
he's trying his best
korekiyo shinguji ♡
his eyes crinkle, the only visible display of how hard he's smiling under his mask
"thank you very much, dear." he would reply
he's very appreciative towards you
seeing as you can only see a little bit of him because of his bandaged body and mask
he's very happy that you perceive him as pretty
even if you can't see all of him
perhaps
little by little, he'll start showing more off to you
only time will tell
kehehehe
kaito momota ♡
you already know he'll have the biggest smile on his face
he grabs you in an instant and pulls you in for a tight hug, patting you on the back
he kind of pats you hard but it's well-meaning
ofc he sends a compliment right back at you
"and don't let anybody EVER tell you otherwise!"
he tells shuichi and maki about it later
and everybody else too
"guess who's a certified pretty boy? this guyyyy" he points to himself
he's seriously so happy about it
gonta gokuhara ♡
at first he misheard you
he thought you were saying the bugs were pretty
"yes! bugs very pretty!"
you agreed but also repeated yourself
he shyly looks away
a cute lil grin on his face
"(Y/N) think gonta pretty?"
yes ofc
he smiles wider and adjusts his specs
"gonta thank you...very much."
ryoma hoshi ♡
he pulls his beanie down onto his face bashfully
your compliment was sooo unexpected for him
"surely, you can't be serious." he murmured
oh but you were
and you reassured him you were
he sighs, finally getting over that initial embarrassment
"okay...fine."
he accepts it!
"but only because it's coming from you."
(his own silly little way of giving you one back and showing that he trusts your judgement)
kokichi ouma ♡
he'll think you're lying
he'll also give you this funny look like he's trying to get you to admit that you're lying
you already caught onto this
but you say nothing else and just smile back at him
it causes him to break into laughter
"you really crack me up, you know that?"
on the inside, he doesn't know what else to say or how else to express his thanks
so he just makes fun of you and leaves
and once he does
your words just replay in his head over and over
'shit, maybe they weren't lying...'
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⋆ ˚。⋆ my ao3
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seijorhi · 2 months ago
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the idea of oikawa not being ready when he meets his soulmate.
it isn't that he thinks you're not good enough, not pretty enough, not right for him, it's just that oikawa wasn't expecting to find you so soon.
soulmates are forever, you'll be there waiting for him when all's said and done, but his career in volleyball – it won't be. he's young, fit and hungry for it; in his absolute prime, but if he doesn't put in the effort now, give it everything, 100% of what he has... it'll slip right through his fingers.
he can't risk that.
there's a strange sort of desperation that tugs at his chest when he tries to explain, to get you to understand it. it's a sacrifice you'll both be making for the sake of the career he's dreamed of his whole life.
the way your smile slowly slips away when you realise he's not asking for you to be patient and give him grace when his focus is more on volleyball than you, he's saying he can't have you around at all, because you will distract him.
he'd lose himself in you.
it's not forever, he stresses, only a little while. you're perfect, and in a year or two when he's more settled in his role, the starting setter on the right team, heading to the championships, he'll be there to give you everything you deserve. no – more. he'll make it up to you, all he's asking for (but he's not really asking, is he) is a bit of time and space.
the light dims in your eyes, a strange, glassy look taking over, and slowly, so fucking slowly, you pull your hands from his, let them fall weakly to your side. it takes a monumental effort to not snatch them back up.
'yeah, okay.'
the expression on your face is all wrong, your voice almost robotic, but oikawa knows it's the right thing. you'll forgive him, because that's what soulmates do. you'll forgive him and then fall even more in love with him and oikawa will spend every damn day showering you in the love and affection he can. he'll drown you in it.
just give him this. let him give everything to volleyball, before he shares himself with you.
you're a little too good at it.
it's harder than he expected, going no contact. he was the one who wanted it – needed it, really, for this to work – but there'd been a small part of him that sort of hoped you'd ignore what he wanted and reach out anyway. he'd imagined sneaking a quick peek at his phone during a water break to see a message from you, something simple, casual, a 'hope things are good!' or 'i caught some of the game last week'. was it unfair of him to want you keeping track of him? to see how far he'd come in the days, weeks, months since he'd asked for time?
it's like an itch under his skin, and it grows. a few of his new teammates have met their soulmates, carry the marks to show for it. they're all smug as fuck about it, but the thing is whenever their soulmates are watching from the stands, they play with a different kind of fire. they're better. envy burns watching them celebrate afterwards, all hungry kisses and smiles too fucking big.
he knows you'd be there too if you could. you'd be there every damn game, all of their practices too, cheering him on. his biggest fan.
it's an ache. he goes home to an empty apartment, better than the one he had when he met you, in a nicer part of town, but no less lifeless. there's no one to welcome him home, to wrap him up in a hug, kiss him how he likes and soothe away the days stresses. no one to warm his bed, no other pussy'll ever be as tempting as yours.
i miss you.
i'm thinking of you.
would it kill you to break his rules and reach out every now and then? to give him some kind of sign that this distance was driving you half as crazy as it was him?
are you trying to punish him?
it occurs to him that you probably don't have his phone number. it shouldn't have stopped you, because it wouldn't've stopped him.
the first time he tries to follow your instagram you block his account.
it's irritating, until he remembers that you're probably trying to abide by his rules. he can't exactly get mad at you for that, tries not to, and instead does what any sane man missing his soulmate would do; creates a fake account, steals a picture from one of his sister's friends and uses that as his profile pic – even goes so far as to follow a bunch of your friends’ accounts too, just so it doesn't look suspicious or weird when he follows you too.
and for a little while, it's enough. he can see what you're up to, who you're hanging out with, where you're going. he'll watch all your stories, your friends’ stories, just for a few seconds of you.
(maybe strokes his cock to a few of them, cums in his sheets gasping your name.)
you're being patient, he's being good, it's only for a few more months, he can last a little longer–
there's a new post on your insta, a snap of you and some asshole with his arm wrapped around your waist, your lips pressed to his cheek.
'Happy six months, love you a little more every day!'
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sehodreams · 6 months ago
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extra points
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TW and tags: professor!Eunseok x student!reader, anxiety (lots of it, with added overthinking), pet names, reader is a crybaby, clothed humping, fluff (comforting I believe), even if everything sounds nice here, obviously a relationship with your professor is not okay (there's power imbalance just for the fact she's a student and he a professor).
WC: 5.2k
Summary: You want to always make him proud of you.
Comment: A bit self-indulgent since I've had a crush on a professor each semester and I also had anxiety when they praised me. Hope it makes other academic weapons here feel a bit seen. Also, tried to check the grammar and times, but idk, now it feels a bit robotic, please tell me if I should write everything in the past time again, just wanted to try something new. A bit ass, sorry, it feels as if I've forgotten how to write.
Staring at the words on your screen that no longer make sense, you try to calm your nerves down, except, you can’t forget the way your professor looked at you before he dismissed your group.
You want to cry, but you have already cried enough. Then you want to scream, but it's 3am and your parents will kill you. You start to ponder your last choice, kill yourself, but even in your head that’s a bit too much.
You just don’t know what to do with everything you’re feeling at that moment. Wishing you could be as nonchalant as your friends, you want to stop thinking about his disappointed face when you finished your exam, because maybe you’re overthinking it, perhaps it wasn’t even that bad.
No, you’re wrong. It wasn’t perfect, and for you, that’s already bad enough.
You try to go to sleep, that should help you. You watch the bottle of melatonin in your nightstand, so closing your laptop, you grab it, take three pills instead of one, and beg the gods you’ve never believed in to make you sleep until the next morning.
Of course, before you drift away, you set your three alarms to arrive on time to his class.
You’re used to walking there filled with anxiety. You always wonder if you’re going to have the answers he wants to hear that day, or if you did good in your last test. It’s terrible, stressful, and the knot on your chest is, for anyone else, a sign that they should chill out, but to you, is a sign that you should do better.
Your mother always says that the person who knows they’ve done everything they could has no reason to feel nervous, and that has pushed you to think you never do enough because she also says you can always do more.
It’s always been the same since that semester started, you go there filled with anxiety, you raise your hand whenever he makes a question to the public, and you feel the knot loosening with each minute that passes and with his smile when you say the correct answer.
You have to admit that, when the class finishes and he says goodbye with that proud smile, you feel as if all your stress and your time invested in reading all the material he has shared makes sense. It feels a bit good, and you’re addicted to that sensation.
He only wants you to reach your full potential. He has said it to the entire classroom, that all those articles and books he has shared are only for them to always have an answer out there in the real world. He says it to the public, but the extra material he emails you makes you feel special.
You’re special, right? He wouldn’t be going out of his way to give you more knowledge if it wasn’t like that.
When you arrive to the classroom you’re pale, and your friends try to tell you that everything will be fine to calm you down, but you can’t.
You’re spiralling into anxiety, and not because you have done bad, but because you have disappointed him.
When he dismissed you, he hadn’t smiled at you, he hadn’t shown you that happy expression he always has when you’ve met his expectations, and even more, he hadn’t said well done.
And if you weren’t his best student, you didn’t want to be there.
Not much later he arrives and tells everyone that he will share the grades in his office, so all of you should go to have a private talk with him when you have time if you want feedback, and if you don’t, the grades would be in the platform the next day.
The class goes as it usually does, smooth, and silent.
He does a couple questions, and you answer them after no one raises his hand and you leave the five-second space in case anyone else wants to talk first, so everything is as normal as it can be, but instead of feeling relaxed with the time passing, you feel worse.
One of your friends tells you to meet her in the cafeteria after you finish talking with the professor, that she will buy you a coffee to cheer you up, and you smile to pretend you’re okay, but you’re fucking not.
You feel like throwing up while walking to his office, but you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, what would you throw up at that point?
It doesn’t take too much time for him to tell you to come in after you respectfully knock on his door two times. You hear him moving papers inside when you open the door, and when you walk in, you both say good afternoon before you sit.
He doesn’t search for anything, the paper he had in his hands was yours, as if he knew you would be the first person to go and see him.
‘’Well done’’ it’s all he says.
He gives you a sheet with your grades until that date and you want to feel relaxed because all of them look good, just one, the last one, is not the perfect grade you’re used to, by one point. Then, you look at his eyes, waiting for more words from him, anything, just something, a praise you hope.
‘’Are you okay?’’ he asks you. You don’t need to be a genius to know how your face must look at that moment, pale and unfocused, like any person at the border of fainting.
You’re not about to faint, you’re about to cry, which is even worse.
Your eyes prickle and your shoulders shake. They’re coming, and you wish they didn’t, because they’re the kind that can’t be stopped for a long time.
‘’Yes’’ you say and almost immediately you start crying. ‘’I’m sorry’’.
Eunseok’s eyes open and he circles his desk to meet you. He doesn’t know what to do to help you, you’re shaking, and your tears come out like a flood that nothing will dry.
‘’What’s wrong?’’ you feel he wants to say another word, maybe a baby, but of course, it is not appropriate.
‘’I’m sorry’’ it’s the only thing that comes out of your mouth.
It breaks him to see you like that, his best student, falling apart.
He knows a lot of things, he has a career teaching, yet he’s completely lost there with you shaking in front of him.
His hands move before he can think, which is a stupid move for someone his age, used to always thinking twice before doing anything.
He had to think about taking that position a month before he accepted. He was never one for teaching, more into working on his own. If he had to admit it, he was never into interacting with a bunch of kids even when he was a student, but you had changed his perspective, making him happy to go to work every morning you would sit in his class, knowing someone would happily answer instead of leaving him talking all alone for two hours.
‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, caressing your shoulders with his wide palms. ‘’You did good, what’s the problem?’’
You don’t answer him, standing and denying with your head, trying to go to the door.
Looking at your trembling lip and your furrowed eyebrows, his heart flinches, and he doesn’t let you leave, holding you in his arms instead.
Your arms wrap him back, tearing face pressed against his chest while he caresses your hair and lets you sob.
It’s so embarrassing you feel like crying even more, because what would he think of you from that moment on? So pathetic, crying like a child when you were a grown woman.
You’ve tried to look perfect for him for so long, and everything had gone to shit in just a second.
Still, you don’t want to let him go.
He is warm and comforting. His aroma is earthy, woody, manly. His hands feel good against you, one on your back, slowly patting you to soothe you, and the other on the back of your head, feeling your hair. However, the best thing has to be his voice so close to your ear, deep and calming you with the way he doesn’t shush and lets you cry as much as you want.
‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, letting you hug him even harder. He doesn’t want to think you’re crying because of him, but what else could be the reason for those fat tears bothering your pretty eyes? ‘’Is it me? Have I done anything to you? Am I being too much?’’ he had never thought he was pushing you that much, but now that he realizes, he had never treated another student, or person, like he had treated you. He wants to excuse himself with the thought of all the potential you have, you’re so smart, he couldn’t treat you as if you were just any student.
But in the end, he reminds himself, you’re just a student. He doubted you had even worked once in your life, because no one working or that thought about other things that weren’t his classes would be able to keep up with everything he was giving you.
You denied his questions, even if it was, you couldn’t tell him it was because of him. It was because of you and your stupid head not letting you sleep with the thought of disappointing him.
‘’No’’ you sob, and your hands grip his shirt, wrinkling the pristine fabric. ‘’It’s just me, I’m sorry’’.
His arms get tighter around you, almost too much. You sniffle to make your cries stop. ‘’It’s okay, I’m sorry too’’ he says because you hadn’t said out loud, but he knows you’re like that because of him.
‘’Please don’t treat me differently’’ you beg because you don’t want him to change. You want to continue receiving his emails with more work, you want him to keep having expectations of you, and you want him to keep being proud of you.
You want to be special to him because he’s special to you. You weren’t like that for any other professor, and not any other treated you like that either.
You have good grades with everyone else, but none of them make you want to give all of you to their courses. You do exactly what’s necessary and then you leave it there. But, again, none of them were him.
It’s not something that you wanted that to happen.
The ability to follow him with your eyes, concentrating on every of his moves while your hands moved on your keyboard on their own was something that had developed with time, like your feelings for him, and everything started with that silly smile gifted to you when you made him a question about something you hadn’t understood in one of the articles.
‘’It’s the first time anyone has asked me about it, I had started to think no one read the material’’ he had said, innocently smiling at you, no idea forming in his head about what your insides felt when he showed it to you.
Everyone said that he was evil, grading all his students without compassion and telling them without an ounce of fear if they didn’t meet his expectations. He said there was only one person who did good in his class all the time, and everyone (including you) knew who that person was even if he didn’t say the name. All that had made you feel things you shouldn’t for him.
Another knock on his door startles you two, and you have to move apart. He looks at you, and one of his hands goes to your cheek to clean the gleaming left by the tears, but you’re faster and clean your eyes with your hands before you say you should leave, not giving him time enough to say anything.
The same afternoon everyone starts to get anxious in the group chat and you silence them. The student who saw you running out of his office says that you were crying, so everyone believes that you flunked, and if you did bad, none of them had hope to even pass.
When your friend calls you and asks why you were crying you say that it was nothing, just stress, and that you didn’t do as bad as everyone thinks.
She believes you because, of course, you're a good girl and you don't have a reason to lie. You have no reason to feel you’ve done anything wrong, but you feel as if you had done something you shouldn’t.
First, you were embarrassed for crying in front of him, but if you had done only that, you doubted you would be having that pressure in the pitch of your abdomen. Then, you recognized what you were feeling, desire, and you definitely shouldn't be feeling that towards your professor.
It’s weird, even if it’s not okay for you to feel that way, you admit to yourself that it felt good to be held by him. He shouldn’t have hugged you, you know that, and you fool yourself thinking it was the only thing he could’ve done in that situation and that he’d have done it with anyone too.
When you receive his email with the extra material you notice that there’s less than usual and that he has written something extra apart from the typical small message listing the titles with a Best regards, Dr. Song.
He starts with a Miss next to your name, and you read it with his voice, hearing him close, just like when he whispered next to your ear. If there is any occasion in which my office or advice is needed, please do not hesitate to come to me, my door is always open.
You don’t know what to say.
You want to say thank you, but an apology feels more correct, and just like in those exams in which you get points deducted for answering wrong, you prefer to not answer at all.
The next class, you sit way in the back, and you don’t answer any of his questions after your five-second stop, to what other students, not daring to let the silent tension stay, start to give short unsatisfactory answers that make Eunseok nod instead of proudly smile.
By the end of it, you slip out of the room with your friends, which is unusual for them since they’re used to waiting for you in the cafeteria.
‘’Don’t you have any question today?’’ one of them asks you.
‘’Not today’’ you say with the excuse of not feeling good, walking faster for them to follow you.
You feel ashamed every time you’re in front of him. The sensation of his arms around you keeps replying in your head, and you shiver when you hear his voice in your head at night. You want him in a way you shouldn’t, and it doesn’t feel like an innocent crush anymore.
You can only continue like that for two more classes before he calls your name and asks you to stay back.
Your friends don’t ask anything, but they direct a suspicious sight at you two. They had joked before saying that you two had a love quarrel when you didn’t answer his questions the second time, which had started to feel weirdly real.
‘’Don’t be silly’’ you laugh. ‘’I just don’t want to stress myself more than necessary anymore.’’
What you say makes sense in everyone’s ears, you really had to chill out, especially after that last crisis.
You nod at them, and they leave without question.
You stay away enough from him, waiting for him to talk. He sees it and sighs, shoving papers into his portfolio without a second look.
‘’I can’t help but notice there’s something different in your participation in class’’ he says. ‘’And I’m sure is related to what happened in my office.’’
‘’Nothing happened Sir, I just haven’t been feeling good’’ you don’t entirely lie. You can’t seem to function around him anymore, even in that moment, you have to resist the need of pressing your thighs to stop that need you’ve developed for his touch since that day.
When he folds his arms in front of his chest and leans back into the big desk, you gulp. He looks so fucking good you can’t pull away your eyes from the way they flex and how they look covered by his simple black shirt with the first button open.
‘’I expected more from you Miss’’ he says, and you, like instinct, feel incredibly bad again.
‘’I’m- I’m sorry’’ you say, trying to stop your eyes from prickling again.
He notices your change. It’s not hard to recognize. Suddenly, you become smaller, and you blink faster, biting the inside of your cheek.
‘’I’m not scolding you’’ he clarifies. His hand gets closer to you, touching the border of your hoodie to get your attention on him instead of the floor. You didn’t notice the way you had moved your eyes from his arms to the floor, and when you see his focused eyes on your face, you feel vulnerable. ‘’You’re my student and if you’re acting this different, I can’t ignore it’’ his eyes are on yours and his thumb and his index are still holding your clothes, playing with the fabric, ‘’I just want to know you’re okay’’.
Warmness floods you. You want to hug him again, you want him to hold you, and for him to whisper that everything is okay over your ear. No, now, you want more than a simple hug.
‘’I’ll do better Sir, I’m sorry’’ you say, and he feels you’re saying the truth this time, so he slowly nods, and his hand leaves you.
You have to gulp the whimper that wants to leave your throat after he smiles at you.
You’re fucking disgusting you tell yourself when that night you want to find relief with him in your mind.
The next days are full of pain. You want to feel him so bad you don’t even know what to do anymore. Your hands are not enough, and the hands of the boy you had let touch you on that stupid Tinder date weren’t enough either.
You had started to answer his questions in class again, lifting his mood and freeing everyone from the uncomfortable moment of having to talk to fill the silence.
‘’Did you reconcile?’’ someone jokes.
‘’We never fought to start’’ you laugh and push their shoulder to leave you alone. ‘’I just want to keep my good profile and my grades’’.
Wanting to be closer to him, you’ve even volunteered to help him grade his tests, reason why you were on his office’s couch at that moment, with a thousand papers spraddled in the little coffee table in front of you and a hand full of red tint marks.
You have less time for yourself now that you’re his little assistant, but you continue reading everything he sends you at night, feeling a bit more tired from the lack of hours of sleep.
Still, everything is worth it when you receive his texts asking for your help or when you buy yourself a cup of overly sweet coffee with the card full of coffee cash he had gifted you.
‘’For your time’’ he timidly slid the gift card to you, and you couldn’t believe your eyes because you were sure no professor gave their assistants anything at all.
You wanted to say no, and you were about to, but the wide smile on your face had been faster than your brain.
‘’I was afraid you were going to reject it’’ he laughed, showing you a new face of him you hadn’t seen before. When he truly laughs, you notice, his cheekbones become more notorious, and his grin is big, showing a bit of the gummy area of his teeth, to what you tell yourself, you wouldn’t dare to deny him anything anymore.
Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you see that it is not the alarm for waking up, but the one that tells you to go out if you don’t want to lose the bus.
You get ready quicker than ever, only brushing your teeth and running out, thanking the world that you took a late-night shower just in case.
Your look is terrible, not that you dress nicely every day, but not as bad as that day, and the world you thanked before seems to laugh at you now, making you lose your bus and making you spend money that you don’t have as cab fare.
When you arrive, you’re almost an hour late, and you don’t dare to push the door open, watching through the little window how your professor is already talking loudly inside.
Eunseok doesn’t turn to you, and you prefer that. You know that he’s exigent with times, he doesn’t even give extra minutes to people that talk too much in presentations. We have to respect everyone’s times he has said on too many occasions for you to forget.
It’s the first time you’re late to his class, and you blame yourself for not putting in more alarms when you went to sleep so late after reading the last paper he had sent you.
You don’t dare to stay there; you don’t even dare to go to the only coffee shop around to wait until your next class because you feel undeserving of spending the coffee money he had given you. You walk to the library with sad eyes and hide in the archaeology section to cry.
No one studies archaeology in your school so you cry in peace until you receive a couple of texts from your friends asking where you are and one from him.
Are you okay? you read.
Yes, I’m sorry, you reply.
Come to my office.
You knock on his door and wait for him to talk even when he has told you multiple times to just go in if you don’t hear voices inside, but you still don’t dare to do it.
‘’Come in’’ he says, and you finally open the door. You don’t walk inside as soon as he talks. He’s ruffling between documents, and you first stand and just look at him from where you are, and then, when he makes eye contact with you, you close the door behind you and give a few steps closer, leaving your bag on his coffee table before you sit in front of him. He waits for you to talk and when he notices that you won’t, he does it, ‘’What happened?’’
‘’I was late…’’ you say, ‘’It’s my fault, I’m sorry’’.
‘’But why? Did anything happen to you on the way here? I need you to talk to me, I don’t know what happened to you if you don’t’’ what he says makes sense, but you feel like saying more would be making excuses. Your parents hate excuses and have always taught you to only say what’s necessary if you’ve done something wrong. In this case, you’re sure you did something wrong.
‘’I’m sorry’’ your breath starts to get harder, and your eyes get a bit wet.
He stands up and walks to you. You think he’s going to lean on the desk like he usually does when he explains something to the room, but he surprises you by moving your seat and caging you in it, slightly bending and inspecting your face.
‘’I’ll repeat my question, and I want you to stop saying you’re sorry’’ he talks, obliging you to maintain your eyes on his with how close he is. ‘’Did anything happen to you when you were coming here?’’
‘’No’’ you answer like you can.
‘’Then what happened?’’ he asks.
‘’I-I fell asleep’’ you finally say.
He sighs, looking relieved, however, you think he sighs because that's the worst reason you could’ve given, and that makes you more embarrassed.
‘’No, wait, it’s okay’’ he smiles when your eyebrows frown to contain what he recognizes as dangerous tears with how shiny your eyes are getting. ‘’Such a crybaby’’ he laughs then, cupping the side of your cheek and cleaning one of the tears that escaped with his thumb.
‘’I’m-‘’
‘’For fucks sake, stop saying you’re sorry, you’ve done nothing to be sorry for’’ he interrupts you before you finish talking and you have to contain another sorry inside your chest. ‘’Sorry’’ he says, making you smile without knowing why. ‘’I’m just glad nothing bad happened to you, I was so worried the whole time, it’s the first time you’ve ever been absent from my class.’’
‘’I was almost an hour late’’ with his palms still on your cheeks, you felt a lot calmer, ‘’I know you don’t like late showers, so I didn’t dare to knock on the door’’.
‘’Oh doll, you should know by now that you’re always the exception.’’
He’s so tender with you, and his voice is so comforting, that you want to close your eyes and just stay with him in that position.
So, you do it, you close your eyes and exhale through your nose, feeling all anxiety disappear from your insides, and you only open them again because Eunseok is kissing you, and you can’t believe what you’re feeling.
The kiss is so soft. His lips feel perfect against yours, smooth and slightly damp. You don’t know what makes you so bold, but your hands go to his neck to not let him move away. At first it was superficial, just lips touching, to then get deeper after you showed equal eagerness.
It’s not much after, as if both of you had been needing to feel each other for a long time, that his tongue caresses your lips to make you accept him, which you do immediately.
The kiss is getting so messy that for a second, he has to breathe over your mouth. Both breaths are hot and fall over each other’s open mouths, making you let a low moan out with the sensation.
Everything is really happening, and you feel your panties get wet with his simple kiss.
He takes your breath again with a groan, making you stand from your seat to pose his hands on your back and press you against his body.
You whimper feeling his belt pinch you and his hand on your back getting lower. Your hands want to do something, so instead of staying still on his neck, they go to feel his hair.
Even his hair felt good.
Silk on your hands, you let him press his thigh on your sex, moving your hips to feel him more.
‘’Fuck, this is so not okay’’ he frowns, lips going to attack your neck while you close your eyes and let him move your hips to meet his thigh and make you more of a mess inside your pants. He stops for a minute, frowning because of how his common sense screams that what he's doing is wrong in so many aspects.
‘’No- don’t stop, please’’ you beg in a whisper. You can’t be loud, you know that what you’re doing is not okay, yet you’ve been needing him for so long, you can’t stop him, and he doesn't want either.
‘’Such a good girl, always making me so proud, fuck, I won’t be able to let you go’’ he says, retaking his past action and making you hump him with both of his hands pushing your hips back and forth his tailored pants.
They’re black, simple, elegant, like him, and you want to cry because it feels like a dream.
‘’Always being so good to me, you’re gonna cum for me like this, right?’’ he asks, biting the side of your neck, making your eyes roll with how close you are to finding your orgasm.
You can’t talk or you’ll moan, you know your body, so you bite your lip and nod while gripping onto his shirt.
His chest is big, and you can’t help but rub your own to his. There, you notice that your sports bra and your hoodie do nothing to impede your hard nipples from feeling good.
He must notice the way you desperately need his attention on your chest, so one of his hands goes from your hip to directly touch you under your shirt.
‘’My pretty girl, can’t believe I’ve endured so long without touching you’’ you can’t believe he calls you pretty when at that moment you feel you look like shit, but he proves you wrong, groping your chest with need, fondling it, to then play with your nipple. His thumb is sweeping it with experience, making you dizzy with all the stimulations together.
Your cunt clenches when you press your clit on his leg, you start to hump him on your own, setting your own pace to cum, and opening your eyes to look at his face, you see shiny white dots.
Your drunken expression makes him let a breathy laugh free, and you cum with a louder whimper the moment you see his smile directed at you.
He stops his attention on your chest and lets you ride down your high while lovingly caressing your back and holding you in his arms.
You need a minute before all clearance is back in your mind and shame starts invading you because you just… well, you haven’t fucked, but you know you’ve done a lot more than a simply making out session.
Your trembling legs and the mess inside your pants are enough proof of that. You’ve never felt anything close to that in your life, so good you had no doubt you could get easily addicted.
Shame is not enough to stop you, and feeling his erection against your abdomen, you feel bad for being the only one who has had an orgasm.
‘’I- I want to make you feel good too’’ you say, inhaling his aroma and hiding your face on his shoulder.
‘’We can’t do more…’’ his arms get tighter around you, not letting you get away before he can finish, knowing the ideas that were already forming in your head about him not wanting to touch you. ‘’Not here.’’
You nod relieved.
Your phone starts ringing, and he lets you get apart enough for you to grab it out of your pocket to see who’s calling you. It’s your alarm for your next class.
‘’Busy?’’ he asks, reading the clear Math II that appears on your screen.
‘’Nah’’ you say. You hate math, and you like Eunseok, so it’s not hard to choose between them. Shoving your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you press your body to his and hug him again.
He laughs and his hands move from the small of your back to your ass, to where your phone is, and he gives you a soft smack on the free area.
‘’Go to class, can’t let my star student get distracted if I want to keep showing off how good you do in mine’’ he says, and you feel so happy with the idea of him talking about you with others that you become weaker in his arms. ‘’I’ll call you later.’’
You reluctantly move apart from his arms when he pushes you to the door and gives you your bag. In front of his door, before he opens it for you, he gives you a long-lasting kiss that feels more like a peck. Then, pushing you out softly, he makes you leave his office, and when you turn back to see him one last time, he’s smiling at you, which makes you smile the rest of the day too.
509 notes · View notes
urfavlarry · 7 months ago
Note
Heyyy:)
I’ve been reading every single SBG Post you have, and I kindly wanted to request something👉👈
Sooo (reader) who’s main weapons are fireworks/explosives(cuz light, and well explosions) And they somehow get hurt by them one day?
(Preferably gn/fem reader, with Ben, Aiden and/ or Tyler) 🧎🧎
Sooo thx for reading this:) You’re so cool!
A/N: oo love this!! thank you for requesting<3 and btw idk why Aidens is so long I think I blacked out while writing for him :,)
warnings: bl00d, swearing, bad grammar, explosives, fireworks, mentions of gagging and throwing up
scenario:
You’ve been playing around with explosives ever since you were little. You lived with your older brother who was experiences with these things and since he couldn’t teach you how to fight, he chose to teach you how to work with explosives. Whether it was fireworks, dynamite, grenades, you knew how to work it. One day while fighting off a phantom your own weapon, well, backfires.
Ben Clark 🎧ྀི
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You throw the grenade at the phantom, another in hand waiting to be thrown. You don’t realize you already pulled out the pin from the grenade and it explodes in your hand. You feel numb, eyes wide from the sudden explosion and ears ringing. You feel a really bad pain in your arm, well at least whats left of it and scream. Everyone turns in your direction and either gasp, scream, or full on start to gag. Ben rushes to your side and pick you on on his back and runs with you to the graveyard along with everyone else, Ashlyn yelling a quick; “Everyone back down.”
Your vision starts to get blurry and someone hits your cheeks; “Y/N, you need to stay awake, okay? Don’t pass out, Y/N, Y/N!” You keep your eyes open but look away from the gruesome sight and start to sob. “Everything will be okay we won’t let anything happen to you.” You hear a robotic kind of voice and look into that direction seeing Ben with the most worried expression, Aiden standing there next to him to somewhat calm him down. You smile weakly but instantly hold back a scream of pain as someone starts to clean your wound.
“Fuck..” You groan and look at the night sky, hoping for this pure torture to end. You sigh as they finally start to wrap your ‘arm’ and finish the little procedure. After that Ashlyn goes away, probably to throw up or something. You don’t blame her, that was really a gruesome sight. You feel a presence beside you and look towards the person, smiling when you see Ben. “Hey..” You say and he nods, pulling you a bit closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to sleep the trauma off. It was funny, you were taking it more lightly than you thought. “Ben?” You say and he looks down at you. “Isn’t it funny?” You smile and look up at him, making him raise a brow; “That everyone is taking this so harshly while I’m here literally not even crying? Well yes I did cry but that shit really hurt and I—” You shut up when you get embraced into a hug. You relax and let the tears fall, Ben patting your back. “Let it out.” He whispers so only you could hear. You were one of the only ones except Aiden and his family that heard his voice. It wasn’t often but when he did speak a warm feeling welled up in your chest.
“It’s okay, I’m here.” He says in a raspy voice and you sniffle, pulling away from the hug. You look up at the stars, trying to ignore your aching arm. “Thanks, um, for being here when I need you.” You say and he nods, kissing your cheek and puts an arm around your shoulder. “I’d do anything for you, I’m just sad I couldn’t stop this whole thing from happening.” He thinks to himself and just stares at you lovingly, leaving you to rest.
Aiden Clark
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Everything hurt like hell. You could hear a faint buzz in your head as you tried to quickly move away but a sharp pain pierced through your entire body. Tears started to fall from your face. “Why am I crying?” You think to yourself not knowing how to stop the bothersome tears from coming down your face. You look down at your body and your eyes widen, brain forever traumatized by the gruesome sight. Your leg was completely torn off and your side was bleeding as well. Fire was forming beside you where an explosion once erupted from your fireworks. You look at the sky, just hoping for the clock to strike 7 like it usually did and end this horrible nightmare. You feel your body be picked up by someone and just close your eyes, shoulders relaxing as your whole world turns into a black void.
You jolt awake, looking around frantically, quickly relaxing when you recognize your little safe space; your room. You groan, your side and leg feeling numb and tingly. Looking up at the ceiling you contemplate whether you should go to school or not, but you know that would worry your friends and even Aiden even more than you already did. Slipping from under the covers you get ready and walk down to the kitchen where your brother was making you breakfast, your favorite. He smiles at you warmly and kisses your forehead; “Tough night?” He knew what has been going on, you told him just a few weeks after Savannah. You were the first out of the group to tell anyone and your brother of course believed you, knowing you as a person to not make up such things. You frown at the thought of last night and decide to not tell him, knowing he would take the blame, saying something like; “I should’ve taught you better.” or even going as far as saying “I shouldn’t have taught you at all.” You sigh and put on a fake smile; “Hey I’m fine! Everything went well last night.” He smiles and ruffles up your hair; “Okay kiddo, if you say so. Now get to school you don’t wanna be late.” He says and you nod, quickly going upstairs yo gather some last minute things and rush to catch the bus, not really being in the mood to walk to school.
You get to the bus and see a very tired and worried looking group of kids, aka the group. Ben was comforting Aiden who was more quiet then usual, Tyler looking more pissed then ever, Taylor being the complete opposite and put on a fake smile, and well Ashlyn had a poker face on like usual but still looked pretty worried having her head rested on the window looking at god knows what. “Hey.” You say and everyone looks up, Taylor rushing to hug you and Logan who you hadn’t noticed did as well, all of them bombarding you with questions. You sit down and turn so your back is against the chair in front of you and legs towards the back of the seat you were sitting on. You were facing the group and everyone waited for you to speak, but only Aiden caught your eye. He wasn’t looking in your direction and was fiddling with his fingers, something very unlike him. You tell everyone you’re fine and tell them you can talk about it later, grabbing Aidens shoulder when you get off the bus. “Guys go on ahead, we will be there in a minute.” Everyone nods and Aiden tenses up and looks down.
“Hey hun, everything okay? You’re more quiet than usu—” You get taken by surprise when Aiden raises his voice at you, tears in his eyes and a very worried but angry expression on his face. “Okay? Y/N I really am not okay. I saw my s/o get blown up by fireworks, do you know how that feels?” You go to speak but get cut off again and just stay quiet from then; “I’m glad you’re okay but I’m not, oh but wait! I’m totally fine! I just saw the love of my fucking life get blown up but thats totally fine! Is that what you wanted to hear Y/N? Well too bad.” He says and you furrow your brows, fist clenching and face going a bit paler than usual.
“That’s nice Aiden, but you are forgetting who actually suffered here. I’m the one who got hurt and you don’t understand how fucking painful that shit is, getting blown up by something you’ve been taught to use ever since you were little by your own family. I didn’t only suffer physically, but seeing that shit fucked me up just as much as it did you. But yeah if it makes you feel better then you’re the one who suffered the most Aiden.” You say and run off into the school, Aiden watching you disappear in the crowd of students who were rushing to get to class. Your words really got to Aiden, he taught about them more and more as he went to class, where you would be. He sits down and puts on a facade for the others, making himself look like he was okay when he really wasn’t. Ben knew something was off but knew better than to interfere in your guys’ situation.
After school you go home, laying in your bed and look up at the ceiling, salty tears pouring out from your eyes making them sting. You hear a knock on your door and you quickly sit up and wipe your tears; “Probably my brother.” You think to yourself but your body tenses when you see a weakly smiling Aiden with flowers and a teddy bear in his hands. You let him in and close the door behind you, facing him. He sets the gifts down and slowly approaches you, opening his arms for a hug. You tackle him in a hug and you both fall to the ground with a loud thud, making both of you chuckle. You stay on the floor like that for quite a bit, Aiden rubbing your back to soothe you as you cry your eyes out, mumbling apologies and ‘I love yous”. He sits up with you in his lap and kisses your cheek and then nose. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you like that it was so uncalled for and I should’ve realized how painful that must’ve been for you. I hope you can forgive me even tho a simple sorry won’t really make up for what I did and said.” He says and looks you in the eyes, cupping your cheek in his hand. You contemplate what to say, knowing what he did was wrong but you could have handled it better yourself. “I let anger get the best of me again, that fucking realm has been rubbing off on me more than usual.” You think to yourself and sigh, hugging him and put your chin on his shoulder. “Aiden I get it, you were angry, sad, quite literally traumatized. You’re.. no, we’re still just teenagers, that shit was gruesome and I really understand that it upset you, yes the things you said were upsetting and could’ve been handled better but just so you know, I don’t hate you for it.” You say and get squeezed in the hug, making you pat his back; “Yeah, yeah, okay jeez Aiden chill.” You say and he chuckles; “No I’m never ever letting you go.” He says and you smile, looking at the time; “8 more hours..” You say and frown; “Aiden what if I just won’t be able to walk again in that realm, even if you somehow manage to stitch me up, that doesn’t guarantee anything.” You say and get shushed by a kiss on the lips; “Everything will be okay, I promise.”
Tyler Hernández
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“So basically what you’re telling me is I have to be the look out while you guys go for the jeep?” You say and raise a brow as you throw your dynamite in the air letting it fall back in your hand and repeat that like a hundred times. Ashlyn nods and you sigh, grabbing the pitch of your nose; “You know I could potentially explode the jeep? You know dynamite isn’t exactly the best weapon for close combat.” I say and cross my arms over my chest, hoping that Ashlyn would come up with a better plan. Tyler nods along and sits down next to you on the floor of the bus. “Yeah and that shit is pretty dangerous if it explodes near you so what if a phantom attacks Y/N really close? She could get hurt.” He says and Ashlyn sigh, furrowing her brows since you have been planning this for about a week and suddenly the plans would be changing. “Everything will be fine, we have necessary recourses if anything goes wrong.” She says and everyone gets up, apart from you. You sit there and think about all the worst possible outcomes, knowing your own brother once got hurt by dynamite but recovered and still lives a fulfilling life.
Tyler stops in his tracks and looks at you, walking back to you and crouches in front of you. He lifts your chin to look at him and smiles at you; “Everything will be fine, you’re talented Y/N, not everyone can work explosives like you do.” You smile and stand up, hugging him tight and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; “Well, let’s knock these bitches dead.” You say and grab your dynamite and lighter, putting them in your pockets. Aiden ordered some suits online and bought a different one just for you since your weapon was dynamite. You can store them in a belt you have or pockets. It was nice of him but you really couldn’t stop thinking about how anything could go wrong. You finally shake off the thoughts and leave with everyone except Logan who would be near the base with a gun. Everyone runs to the house as “Party rock anthem” were heard in the background.
You smirk and get your dynamite in hand; “Let’s get this party started!” Aiden cheers and Tyler rolls his eyes, making Taylor laugh. “Take this seriously guys.” Tyler yells over the music and you just smile sheepishly as everyone runs into the house except for you like the plan was supposed to go. You turn on your headlamp so the phantoms can’t get that close. You see a group of them standing near the speakers where the song was playing, but you knew you didn’t have that much time before it stopped playing. You hear commotion behind you and see Ashlyn getting pulled up by a phantom. “Shit!” Aiden was standing there trying to get up to help her so you boost him up since you can’t really help unless they want an exploded house and a dead Ash on their hands. The commotion atracted a group of phantoms and they were a bit far because of the light you had turned on. You smirk and light your dynamite throwing it right at them. You cover your ears and let it explode, knowing that probably attracted more phantoms so you take another one out. Eyeing the area closely you hear the song end but see tha Aiden and Ashlyn managed to kill the phantom some how. You smile and give them a thumbs up.
You walk a bit farther from the entrance of the house and the jeep, lighting another dynamite and throw it at another group of phantoms. You walk back a bit so you don’t get exploded but don’t hear Ashlyn yelling for you to watch out when a phantom sneaks up on you. Your eyes widen and you shine a flashlight on it but you stumble back and start to hear loud ringing in your ears. You feel a warm liquid run from your upper leg. You look down and see a huge gash in your leg, maling you scream. You cough as dust and ash starts to fly around from the explosion. You sob and crawl closer to the jeep, seeing that phantoms were getting into the house; “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself and sob, sitting down next to the jeep, keeping an eye out for your surroundings. You tie your wound with a ripped piece of your pants and groan in pain as it tightens around your leg. You see everyone get out of the house and Tylers eyes widen when he sees you laying there, bleeding. “Holy shit, Y/N!” He yells and picks you up, everyone getting into the jeep fast as phantoms start to swarm the car. You sob into his shoulder as Taylor applies more pressure to your wound.
Everyone gets out of the car once Ash swerves into the graveyard and get you out of the car. Sobs and sniffles were heard as you cried your heart out from the pain. Tyler had your head in his lap and brushed hair from your face. He whispered sweet nothing into your ear and things like “It’s almost over.” “You’re doing great mi vida.” making you relax just a bit. Ashlyn was stitching your wound and that was the worst pain ever. “Okay, it’s done.” Ashlyn says and packs up the first aid kit, cleaning the blood off your leg and leaves so you and Tyler can be alone for a bit. You try and sit up but your arms give out, making you fall back into his lap. He puts an arm under your shoulder and lifts you up so you can sit next to him. He looked worried but had his brows furrowed and also looked a bit angry. He was mumbling curses in Spanish and sometimes mumbling something about the phantoms.
You lay your head on his chest and he kisses your head letting you rest after that traumatic event. You smile and start to talk; “Sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” You say and he chuckles a bit; “Yeah you should’ve, but things happen and you’re so brave for getting through that.” He says making you smile. “I should’ve been there to help although I probably would have made things worse, but still you get the point.” You nod and he stays silent for a while before he speaks up again; “I’m glad you’re okay, you really did such a good job at protecting us and don’t you think other wise you hear me?” He says in a stern voice and you nod, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, if you think so.” You say and he pulls you closer “I know so.” He says and kisses your soft lips, making you forget all of the pain you once felt.
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aimasup · 1 month ago
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EPISODE 3 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
aka my live notes on the episode as I watch again
The second ep I couldn't do because it came out when I was still working, so no energy or time :(
Here we go, long post warning:
The cartoon biology is amazing, it would make sense they'd explore that with all the time on their hands, it's so damn creative
In an alternate universe they would make for fantastic circus tricks
Gangle is DRAWING
Jax obviously would want to know how the newest plaything ticks. jerk
Zooble's. New. Look. 10/10 I'm sorry Zooble I know you hate your body but you are a cartoon character with a cool design
The reason I don't redraw enough screenshots even though I badly want to is because if we sat here and picked out every pose, expression, shot, joke, and meaningful momeny that i especially loved, we'd be here all day
It's nice that Pomni is still inquisitive and here it's mixed with fear of the Gummigoo incident repeating, continuity! ( °▽° )
Caine probably does take plenty of user feedback: When Zooble never showed up, he probably took into account what they might like in an adventure and tailor it to include them!! Even comments like 'immature'. Headcanon territory again whoops
Ragatha's little hand shimmies at when saying the house is scary she's so adorable you guys
She always wants to make things fun or at least enjoyable for others, but she isn't super stable herself, nooooo
The cartoon gags being like, physically real is the right kind of wacky and horrifying, of course these humans would lose it after a while!! Fits the tone of the series well
"I remember my first wild take!" "Gangle I'll get it for you!"
Kinger is so helpful he always wants to help and he talks exactly like a nurturing figure ಥ⌣ಥ even if his mind is. Not all there
Jax would be the worstttt to be in a haunted house with. Or even just play a horror game with. He'd skip all the dialogue and take the cutscenes at face value bc he just wants directions to do things
Caine hunting Zooble down good lord
CAINE THAT IS NOT HOW YOU PLAY HIDE AND SEEK
Zooble is being held hostage by someone with worse memory issues than Kinger trying to give them therapy that they KNOW is pointless. Yikes
The 'specially for Zooble' horror is SUPERB!! Gooseworx your roots are showing
This has escape room vibes. A controlled environment designed for mystery and entertainment except this time the players were actually kidnapped
Kinger and Pomni duo is. So good
Kinger slowly becomes lucid while Pomni loses it
Also all the voice actors are so good all the characters' squeaks and stammers and yells are full of such emotion
The gags are great. The 2d bit was a surprise and welcomed! Made the monster unveiling itself to be more haunting
I'm not a huge fan personally of the 'scary moment followed by funny quip' because it can repetitive after a while, so I appreciate that it wasn't too much of the case here
It's always the non-horror shows that have at least one downright terrifying episode huh
Zooble being open with their feelings because they know it doesn't matter nooooo
Caine is squishy. I'm now realising this, he is very squishy, eyeballs and all, even though he's the most robotic of the sentient cast
Caine doesn't even apologise for his actions, which makes sense sadly
They are nailing his programmed helper nature of not understanding deeper issues out of his comprehension, including his own!! But he still holds immense power and needs to slow tf down asap!! The adventures are for Caine as much as they are for the humans, in this essay I will
And Zooble. Zooble doesn't totally isolate themself, they hang out with the others! It's just that their body is already so foreign and uncomfortable for them, why on earth would they want to bring it out for even more foreign and uncomfortable experiences? The tent isn't so bad, it's massive and there's enough annoying bullshit behind each curtain to keep things less monotonous. They want as much peace and quiet as they can get in this disquieting form in this world. Everyone is trying to get control of their own situations in some way. And it's canon that they were newest before Pomni, keep that in mind-- in THIS essay I will
Zooble has many choice words that come to mind when they see you, Caine
Also Caine's expressions will always be peak. Love how he doesn't show certain more intense (vulnerable) emotions the same way humans do, he flusters, freezes up or glitches out instead
RAGATHA AND GANGLE DESERVE A GIRLS NIGHT. GOOD. TIE UP THAT MEDDLING RABBIT
Kinger I am twirling my hair as we speak
He's being very calm! Still scared ofc but he's so used to the madness of the circus, and for the first time we're actually seeing that in a way that isn't him being PART of the madness
The possession was horrifying loveeee (shhh don't think about the content farms with possessed Pomni that may follow it's ok)
"How's your wife, Kinger?" uncalled for. (cocks shotgun) game's haunted
Seriously I very much doubt that Caine put that in on purpose. But it's not out of the question that the magic hell circus game that sucks your mind in forever would mix code and consciousness for some fucked up results. I believe it's called uhh divine machinery? Idk
Pomni, let it out girl
These adventures have not, in fact, gotten easier for her to adapt. Really shows that compassion matters huh
(or does it? Jax may have something to say about that)
It's canon! Queenie is canon! And the truth behind Kinger's pillow fort is even sadder than we imagined!
And what's also canon is that Zooble is a great listener!! They take note of everyone's behaviour even though they don't go on the adventures!! They distracted Caine from his crisis!! They ended up being the therapist!! And it's not even on purpose ajkshdksksjskslslsksl they have no idea how they ended up in either chair
Will Pomni have to go through each adventure and come out of them the only one carrying the experience. I hope not. That would hurt. But I hope so 👀
Ragatha! Getting appreciation! Pomni's hair tuck! How often does Ragatha hear that even? Also Pomni is getting closer with the others, already hanging out and stuff, good for her!! Our cantakerous jester is finding friendship!!
Please make it so that Caine's alliterative terms of endearment get worse every time. Please it's so funny
TADC IS ABOUT HUMAN CONNECTION AND ALSO VIDEO GAME/CARTOON PHYSICS RGHRGJEHHHSHH
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hannieween · 1 year ago
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charmer | heartbreaker series | c.sc
The thing about Seungcheol is that when he loved, he loved with a fervent force that nothing could ever stop it. When he wanted something, he would stop at nothing to get it. He was passionate like that. And he loved you. Past tense. Loved.
✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, smut (18+) ✧ word count: 12.7k ✧ aus: boss seungcheol, exes to lovers
₊🎧: habit - i.m ♡ | not over you - taemin [pls, this song is absolutely perfect]
₊ nsfw tags under the cut
✧ warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drug use, coups engages in illegal activities such as hosting a gambling house (that's it but still illegal), sexual tension, dirty talk, sex in the workspace, angsty unprotected sex, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), marking (f), a bit of overstimming (f) multiple orgasms (f, m), bigdick!cheol, softdom!cheol, hints of daddy kink, pet names: love, angel, baby (hers) daddy (his)
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✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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part i
You arrived at a job interview in a bar.
It's been a week since you started to job hunt. With bills piling up and mediocre PhD student income, you took a chance and picked up a server job at a busy bar on near your neighbourhood.
Although the position seemed at odds with your rigorous PhD student program, you were very capable of managing your time. Plus, you could take the opportunity to increase your income thanks to your ability to get sizeable tips from your old jobs.
This bar, though located a few minutes from your apartment, you had never been. It is not unusual that you have not been to this bar, or any other. As you are busy surviving other jobs and doing research for your PhD research, you barely have time for yourself.
The bar was called The Spot. Nothing more, nothing that differentiated this Spot from other Spots. Whoever thought of that didn't think too hard.
As soon as you walked through the front door, you were hit by the smell of tobacco and dust. But there was no one smoking, in fact, there was only a lone person sitting in a booth at the back of the bar. It seemed to you that the place might be so old that the walls reeked of cigarettes.
You walked to the bar, and thought of maybe sounding the bell that was neatly propped on one corner beside the register. As you lifted your hand to sound the bell, the only other person inside the bar spoke:
"If you're here for the interview. It's with me."
You looked back towards the booth, the guy who spoke to you wasn't even looking in your direction. He seemed busy reading notes in a worn notebook and scratching something on a separate sheet of paper.
"Oh, yes. Hi," you answered awkwardly.
"Have a seat," he said flatly, he pointed with his pencil to the seat in front of him.
The booth, though worn, was clean, when you slid your body into the booth, the guy was in front of you. He wasn't much older than you, from his tired look you estimated a year or two or so, however the glasses he was wearing plus the black sleeveless t-shirt and yellow beanie made you think that he was way too young to be in charge.
"I'm-"
"Yes, I know. I'm Wonwoo," he put down his pencil and extended his hand to shake it with yours awkwardly. "Do you want a glass of water?"
You thought of the way he made his offer, even his handshake was almost robotically.
"Uh, I'm fine thanks. Here's my info. I know you didn't mentioned it when we talked on the phone but I thought you might want to take a look."
You placed your documents on the table. That made Wonwoo lift his eyes from the papers he was scratching absentmindedly.
"Keep it. I'll just ask a few questions," he put down his pencil and started cracking his fingers and wrists at the same moment he suppressed a long, eye watering yawn.
Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"Sorry. Had a long night," he said after seeing your incredulous expression.
You wanted to laugh. "It's okay."
You found it funny, but at the same time it was giving you major red flags. Is this guy supposed to be interviewing you? Well, can't ask too much from a place job this, right?
"Why do you want to work here?" Wonwoo asked, glancing at a page on the battered notebook.
You decided to drop the act of being the most eager candidate and answered naturally.
You shrugged. "I need money."
The guy almost, almost rolled his eyes. His hand grabbed the folder and skimmed through your resumé. "Here it says you have past experience English teacher. Why not just teach little kids?"
"I didn't like being a teacher, is way too much work. I figured I can do my research during daytime and work on a late shift."
"You could work part time on a coffee shop," he countered.
"I have tried it before. Didn't like it."
"And why is that?"
"It didn't suit my needs. Besides, I like the shift hours you offer," you added a smile, hoping he would be persuaded.
He blinked slowly, totally not convinced. "Have you ever worked at a bar?"
You decided to ignore the derision on his tone. "A few years ago. I know what I'd be up against."
He eyed the first page of your resumé again, his sharp eyes skimming fast. "So let me get this right. You're here because you're doing a postgraduate degree, you know that this isn't an easy job because you have experience... where does that leave you time to actually study or whatever it is you do?"
"I only have one course, and I spend most of my time writing. The stipend is no longer enough to cover my expenses, so I need additional income. Luckily, I have experience earning good tips," you explained, fed up with the questions he kept asking.
"Mmm, right."
Then Wonwoo stood up from the booth and stretched his long arms over his head, letting out a sigh.
"I expect you tomorrow, by... four? Yeah, four'll be fine. Gives time for you to get around," he said with another yawn.
You blinked. "Wh-what?"
He gave you a shy smile. "You have the job," he said with a slight shrug.
His entire demeanour had changed, he looked more relaxed and even a bit embarrassed.
"Sorry, I acted like a complete jerk," he said as you stood up, feeling perplexed. "It's a thing I have to do as part of the filtering."
"Why?"
"Well, you'll see. Our boss is a bit... demanding, to say the least," he muttered.
You blinked slowly. "So... you based your act on your boss?"
His eyes opened in an alarmed expression. "I shouldn't have said that. Don't get me wrong. He's nice. But he can be bossy."
"I'd expect that from any boss," you reassured, tilting your head slightly to the side.
"Well, you haven't met him," he countered, a hand massaging the back of his neck. "Anyway, can I get your details so I can add you to the system and stuff?"
You sighed, almost feeling like laughing again. Wonwoo now seemed boyish in contrast to how he behaved during his questioning.
"Sure thing," you stopped for a moment, "Can I ask why I got the job?"
His lips pursed and shrugged. "You were honest, and didn't break under my jerk persona."
"Well, I actually found it funny. But I was almost sold, though."
"Oh, dang it," he smiled shyly. "I might have to work on it."
"If you want any pointers, I can help," you pressed your lips into a smile.
His smiled quivered slightly. "I'd like that."
"See you tomorrow, then. Uh, is there any dress code?"
Wonwoo studied your frame from your head to your feet. He shrugged carelessly. "Just look a bit more relaxed."
Your brow furrowed. You were wearing a white button up, jeans and snickers. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno. Wear something you like. There's no dress code. Boss doesn't care, I don't see why you should either," he brushed it off and started to turn around to walk away.
"Uh, okay. Will I get the boss' name?" you asked, feeling that it was a bit ridiculous the mystery around the boss.
"See you tomorrow, newbie!" he said as he disappeared behind a door marked in red with, 'STAFF ONLY'.
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You hoped that you were wearing something appropriate.
Choosing what to wear was something you didn't think was difficult. You were used to wear the same combination of things, so your style was safe, comfy. At least that's what you thought, since all you ever did lately was attending class, work on your research and that was pretty much it.
So, ripped jeans, snickers and an oversized black t-shirt might suit the general vibe of the bar and also what you got from your new partner, Wonwoo.
You parked your old car out back of the bar, and didn't know if you were expected to use the back entrance yet so you used the front door again.
Ah, the smell of old tobacco.
"Oh, the newbie is here," you heard Wonwoo's low voice coming from the same a booth he used on your interview.
"Hi," you waved at the tall lean figure of his as he stood up, and noticed he was looking a bit nervous.
"Let me introduce you," he gestured you over with his hand.
From the booth, a second figure rose, a man of bulkier frame with tousled blond hair that partially hid him from your gaze. He brushed it back with one hand, finally revealing his face to you.
The whole world froze for a second. You almost didn't recognize him, but it was obviously him.
The moment passed in a blur, almost too swift for your mind to process. Yet, in that fleeting instant, you witnessed it all. His deep, searching eyes locked onto you, as if he were scrutinizing every detail–your face, your hair, your hands, your whole body.
It was as though he had stumbled upon a ghost, and you could feel your own disbelief mirrored in his eyes.
"Boss, this is-"
"This is our new recruit?" he asked, his tone not one of anger, but rather filled with genuine bewilderment.
Despite Seungcheol's demeanour, you found it hard to muster up any offense. You were too shocked to speak. Maybe even more shocked than he was.
Wonwoo seemed genuinely lost, his mouth agape. "Uh, yeah. She passed your filters and has some experience," his eyes darted toward you, looking for clues. "What's wrong with her?"
Seungcheol looked ready to explode at any moment. You recognized all the giveaway signs: the way he ran his hand through his hair while taking a controlled breath through his nose in an effort to contain his impending anger.
Given your actions two years ago, you would not be surprised if he decided not to contain his anger. You fully understood the damage you had caused him, and the possibility that his resentment would be unleashed was all too likely. And deserved.
Apparently, after two years, you could still read him like the palm of your hand.
"We'll talk later, Wonwoo," Seungcheol said, appearing to calm himself. "Show her around, the basics and stuff. I'll be out back making a call."
Seungcheol stared at you once and turned to leave, slamming the door shut on his way out.
"What the hell?" Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Well, you met him, that's our boss."
Oh, of course it would be him.
"A charmer," you said, trying to play it cool.
But deep within you, there was an uproar of emotions. Memories flooded your brain and just seeing him for a minute made your heart race, your whole body felt elated, all of this made you feel a little dizzy.
After two years of not seeing him, Seungcheol still has the same effect on you.
"I dunno what got to him. He's always nice with the newbies but..." he shook his head again. "Whatever, sorry 'bout that. Let me show you around."
You were eager to change the subject and start doing something else. Wonwoo signalled you towards the door where Seungcheol had disappeared moments before and pushed it open, revealing a long hallway with four other doors on each side.
"This leads to where we store crates with beer, whisky, vodka, everything bottled and such," he pointed at the first closed door and then to the next, "this is the utilities room. And this, you never go in here, got it?"
He pointed to the door behind you. It had extra locks and looked newer than the rest of the doors in the hallway. The last door was the back exit.
"You'll get a keys for all the doors except that one." Wonwoo said promptly, turning to the door that led to the bar.
"What's in there?" you asked slowly, pointing to the newer door.
Wonwoo stopped and turned to you. "Boss' room," he said simply.
Your heart stopped. "He lives here?" you asked a bit too horrified.
"Oh, God, no," he laughed stiffly. "Well, he might as well. But no, he... does general management stuff there."
"Management stuff," you grinned, spotting a lie.
"Don't ask more questions, it's easier. Believe me."
The two returned to the bar, where the space was neither too large nor too cramped. The place had four tables and an equal number of booths, all with a western charm. The vintage look of the tables and chairs indicated their origin, which seemed to date back to the 1980s.
At the opposite end of the back room, a large pool table occupied the space. The walls were adorned with posters of various rock bands from the eighties and nineties and red neon signs.
Between the tables and the pool table was the bar, which was arranged in a U shape against a brick wall, which also had a large red neon sign that said 'Heartbreaker'.
But surprisingly enough, everything was squeaky clean.
"There's the register, which you can handle if I'm too busy," he pointed. "Mingyu sometimes helps with the register, but he's mostly on the other side of the bar, or dealing with drunkheads."
"So is it just you two handling the drinks?" you asked curiously.
"Yup. We manage just fine, if you're wondering," he smirked and added a proud nod with his head. Then he pointed to the other side of the bar. "Sometimes we move the pool table to make room for the band. We host gigs almost every thursday."
"So, tomorrow," you added.
"Yup. And we're planning on adding stand up nights, but I... differ. Boss is a bit ambitious."
You huffed. That he is. "And does he... is he around much?"
Wonwoo eyed you. "D'you mean does he get his hands dirty?" he smiled. "Yeah, if it's too crowded he helps which is most weekends."
You nodded slowly. "O-okay."
Wonwoo made no further comment. He cocked his head to the side towards the door that was after the pool table. "Come, let me show you the kitchen, and then we get to work."
Most of the things that Wonwoo showed you, you already knew how to work and that made him happy because it, "Is a good thing that I won't be behind you teaching you things."
Wonwoo gave you the task to read the menu before opening for public.
You were sitting at the usual booth, reading in silence as Wonwoo took the task to turn all the neon signs on the walls, and the lights from the ceiling, and soon the room was dimly lit in red and yellow lighting. It was a bit hard to read under the red lights and the hard rock music, but most of the menu was normal stuff you'd find at a bar.
In the corner of your eye, you saw someone occupy the seat in front of you.
"What are you doing here?"
Seungcheol's voice jolted you off the menu and made you turn your head back with a surprised gasp.
The back of his head was resting against the back of the seat, his jaw clenched and his intense gaze piercing through his thick set of eyelashes.
A sharp pang of remorse tugged at your heart. Despite the years of no contact, the intensity of your feelings for him remained as powerful as ever.
Upon getting no response from you, he raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I work here now," you put in simply.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes. "Don't try to play games with me."
"I didn't know you worked here," you justified weakly.
"I own this place."
"Whatever. I had no idea that you'd be here."
He scoffed, and looked to his side at nothing in particular, his cruel smile vanished. "Right."
Did he actually think you had deliberately planned your arrival to his bar? Perhaps he believed you were intentionally trying to inflict him more pain, a calculated plan to further drive in the pain left over from the aftermath of your messy breakup.
"It's true," you insisted. "Why would I want to work with my ex?"
That made him visibly cringe, his dark eyes setting on your face again. "I thought that mommy and daddy were keeping you well off," his eyebrow jumped slightly again.
You sighed. "Well, not anymore. My parents cut me off."
"Again?" he quipped dryly.
"It is definite this time though," you said as you scratched an imaginary freckle on the back of your hand.
"What did you do this time? Got a tattoo? Cuss them off? Got another boyfriend they didn't like?" you could tell that there was disdain in his words, but he tried to deliver them offhandedly.
You recognised that the things he said were not innately bad, but your upbringing had been conducted by extremely strict parents. As a result, almost anything could seem outrageous to them.
As an additional result, you had become somewhat rebellious when you were younger. It was at this stage of your life that you came across Choi Seungcheol.
You hummed and smiled bitterly. "I might've told them some things they didn't like hearing. Anyway, that was over a year ago, haven't talked to them since."
Seungcheol smiled the way he did when he thought of something he didn't dared to say aloud: the tip of his tongue would slide on his front teeth. He quickly put in: "But why work here?"
Deciding not to probe into what he really wanted to say, you felt a peculiar relief that he was open for a conversation, despite the venomous comments he had made.
"Things got difficult. The stipend it's not enough to live on and I need some quick cash, so here I am." You eyed him again. "You can't fire me just because it didn't work out between us."
"Nobody said anything about firing you," he said rolling his eyes as he straightened up, placing his hands firmly on the table between you. "But I do want to make something very clear."
He leaned forward.
"I'm your boss now, not your ex. We won't talk to you unless is strictly for work. And I don't want the boys to know about us, got it?"
"Works for me," you muttered.
The fleeting thought of quitting had dissipated, replaced by a new determination to stay, motivated by a sense of defiance. Now you were determined to see how far his 'I'm your boss' stance could go.
You knew you were being childish. You didn't care.
Seungcheol nodded and patted the table twice. "Good. Now, get ready, people might start coming soon."
You rolled your eyes, but he didn't catch that.
The other staff members that worked in the kitchen were already getting to work. It was a small kitchen, so there were few people working it.
Since it was a space mostly occupied by men, you'd expected that they would speak freely. That included very intimate talks and banter.
Mingyu, who was just introduced to you some moments before, was leaning on the bar hearing what atrocities came out of the kitchen. "Guys, keep it down!" he shouted back. "The newbie doesn't have to hear the atrocities you do off work."
As you returned the menu to its initial position, you reassured Mingyu: "No worries. I'm fine with it," mustering a smile, though the effort felt forced.
"Mingyu is just scared that you won't last long here," Wonwoo chimed in with a devious smirk.
The accused gasped dramatically. "Now, you might be projecting Hyung."
"People don't last long here?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"Uh... not really, no," Mingyu said simply. And started to resume with his task of preparing a sour mix, he had a dish cloth thrown on his shoulder.
"May I know why?" you asked slowly.
"Like I said," Wonwoo replied with a firm tone. "Boss is a bit demanding sometimes."
Mingyu rolled his eyes. "It's not normal for everyone who comes here to work to leave after a couple of weeks," he countered. "Obviously it's because the women who come here to work all fall in love with him and he has no choice but to turn them away."
"What?" you gasped.
"Boss is a bit of a heartbreaker," the taller man shrugged. "But he's persistent on hiring pretty servers."
Mingyu's words were nonchalant, almost as though they held no significance, yet you couldn't help but feel a faint blush rise to your face in response
"But why would they fall in love with him?" you asked with an awkward laugh.
"Well, you had the bad luck of meeting him on a bad day," Mingyu mused.
"He's always having a bad day," Wonwoo muttered under his breath, thinking no one would hear him.
"Dunno, 'suppose he's hot? Manly?" Mingyu continued, aloof. "Your guess is better than mine."
"You two are hot too," you blurted out, feeling flustered under the pressure of thinking someone falling for your ex.
The two bartenders exchanged a flat look.
Mingyu coughed up a chuckle. "Newbie, I appreciate the half compliment. But I'm already taken and Wonwoo... well he's a mystery."
"Can we not talk about that right now?" Wonwoo suggested pointedly, just as the front door opened to a handful of customers.
Admittedly, viewed from a somewhat skewed perspective, it made sense. The clientele was predominantly male, and it was an unspoken rule that waitresses tended to get the highest tips, especially in these types of establishments.
As the night progressed, the bar became more crowded, forcing him to constantly move from place to place, juggling multiple tasks, such as taking orders, delivering drinks and clearing tables.
Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. And you thought it was better this way. But you did find yourself glancing at the STAFF ONLY door a few too many times, expecting to see him walk through it.
Apparently, the bar had a special discount on Wednesdays. That's why it was packed with people from the office buildings near the block. And it was a minor detail that Wonwoo casually remembered to tell you when you started to wonder why so many people in uniforms came in packs around 9 PM.
But you managed all the tables by yourself just fine. The orders were simple, and as Wonwoo said, they did work with an efficient dynamic. The two bartenders communicated almost without a word, their coordination seemed to be something they had been trained in for years.
Four hours into your shift, all the tables were occupied. You felt sweaty, your hair stuck to the back of your neck, but the good thing about your first day was that you were kept moving and had no distractions.
That was until you turned around towards the bar, to find Seungcheol on the left end, near the backdoor. He was leaning forward, elbows propped on the lacquered surface of the counter. His heavy gaze was set on you.
The feeling of being watched was really hard to shake off. You felt it on the back of your head as you tried to get to the remaining hours of the shift. But it was nearly impossible. The tight knot on your stomach was so persistent that you sucked air every few minutes in an attempt to get rid of the anxiety that Seungcheol's scrutiny had imposed on you.
He just watched you move through the black and white checkered floor of the bar. You thought it was a tactic to make you feel intimidated, so you decided to continue as normal as you could.
But being watched by him also meant that he saw you smile sweetly to the customers, he saw you bend forward to talk to them over the music, the way you'd bite the tip of your pen as you listened to the customers. When you'd turn around, flicking your hair over your back.
When you mustered the courage to glance his way your eyes met. The red lights over him made him look dangerous, his hands tightly clasped over the counter, his head slightly inclined forward his eyes focused on you. You looked away anxiously, hoping he didn't see how you reacted under his eye.
The rest of the shift was like that.
"Good god," Mingyu said at the end of the shift while counting the tips jar. "We'd never had this much on a wednesday night."
You smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Seungcheol was still on the bar, but at least now he was helping around. Bringing in boxes of utilities to restock while Wonwoo cleaned the area and Mingyu managed the income for the night. You knew that he was avoiding you, but that was fine by you.
"Please, newbie, last longer than the others," Mingyu sighed dramatically.
Someone shushed. You didn't have to look to know who it was.
"Sorry boss," Mingyu mumbled, but he was smiling contentedly as he continued counting coins and bills.
It was 3 AM. when you pulled out into the parking lot, the slippery pavement reflecting the faint red glow of the bar's neon sign. Leaning against the car, you took a long drag of the blunt that you had been saving only for stressful moments such as this.
"You still smoke?" Seungcheol's asked as he came out of the back exit, his hands buried in the pockets of his black hoodie.
Something tightened in your stomach. You saw him walk up to you, feeling marvelled at the sight of him after so many years of not seeing him, years of wondering what he might be up to and here he was, standing in front of you.
You tried to bite back a snarky comment about 'not talking unless is strictly for work', to yourself. As you noticed he wasn't trying to chastise you anymore, you decided to chime in for a conversation with him.
"Sometimes," you admitted.
Seungcheol stood in the rain washed parking in front of you, he looked at you as if you were some kind of lost memory to him. The yearning in his eyes matched what you felt in your heart.
"You?" you asked, lifting your head to meet his dark eyes.
He shook his head silently. The features of his face looked more relaxed now.
The rattling noise from the back door broke your silent scrutiny of your ex's face, and you adverted your gaze to see Wonwoo and Mingyu coming out of the bar.
"See you tomorrow, newbie." Mingyu called and placed two fingers to the crown of his head, saluting. "Bye, boss."
Wonwoo just raised his hand to wave goodbye. The two bartenders got in a car and drove away.
"Can you drive like that?" he asked, still not chastising but it did make you feel a little optimistic that he'd worry about you.
"Yeah, it'll start making its effect by the time I get home," you tried smiling reassuringly.
"Mm'okay. But be careful, okay?" he seemed to roll his eyes with annoyance. "I don't want to start interviews again."
You chuckled and you started feeling a sense of normality in the conversation. However, you noticed that there was something unspoken written in his gaze, implying there was something that he was not willing to say.
"Are you staying?" you asked, noticing that the lights of the bar were still on.
He blinked lazily and you noticed he tried suppressing a yawn, the dimple of his right cheek deepened a bit.
"Have to finishing a couple of things. They can't wait till tomorrow."
"Don't stay up too late, Seungcheol," you mustered up a kind smile, turning your back to him as you opened the door of your old car.
As you drove away, Seungcheol remained standing in the faint reflection of the red lights from the bar. His figure disappeared from your rear view mirror as you changed directions.
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The next day resulted a bit more challenging.
The bar was so packed it was difficult to move, the counter was surrounded by customers sitting on barstools. Tables and booths were occupied too.
As Wonwoo had mentioned, there were live shows every thursday.
The group, known as Midnight Haze, consisted of three members: a drummer, a bass player and a singer who played the guitar skilfully. Their performances had gained them a large following, and some customers frequented the bar solely for the pleasure of watching their performances, they were mostly groups of women.
And the loud noise from the live music was filling your brain and making your bones vibrate but it was nice to feel something other than the anxiety of being under your ex's relentless scrutiny.
You opted for an outfit that matched the mood of the night: black shorts and fishnet tights, paired with a black and red tank top. The side slits of the shirt, gave a small glimpse of the lacey bra you wore underneath, a deliberate nod to the energy in the warmth of the bar, despite the cold outside.
The blush on your cheeks could be partly blamed on the crowded atmosphere, but you were also aware that your own behaviour had something to do with it. You recognized the calculated flirting you employed with customers, a strategy aimed at getting higher tips, even if it made you feel a little foolish from time to time.
Every now and then you would catch Seungcheol eyeing you. Noticing how his gaze would momentarily linger on your lush lips whenever you turned in his direction or walked by, you decided to make it a performance for him.
Whenever you were talking with clients within his view, you would playfully tuck the tip of your pen between your lips, offering a coy smile. You'd twirl your fingers on lose strands of your hair while greeting customers, well aware that he was likely watching.
Again, childish. But who cares.
There was no denying that you liked the fact that Seungcheol kept a watchful eye on you. It reminded you of your time together, when you were so in love you could barely tear your eyes (or hands) off each other.
You had to bite your lower lip down as you worked on the tables. Going down on memory lane when Seungcheol used to be so clingy to you that he'd find a way to drag you to any corner where he could fuck you. And he'd do it so good you'd see stars.
You let out a silent groan. Feeling your body grow hotter just with the memory of him.
Goddamnit.
The band finished playing their last song after an hour and a half without interruptions. They had already started to pack up their stuff when you approached the singer, a tall guy with raven black hair and big doe eyes.
Shouting over the hard rock music playing now on the speakers, you said, "Boss says whatever you want is on the house."
It wasn't really Seungcheol who told you that. Wonwoo informed you beforehand that band usually get freebies, specially the lead singer of Midnight Haze, for some reason you didn't ask.
He turned to you, looking you in the eyes took off the strap of his guitar to leave it aside. "You're new," he pointed with a polite smile. "I'm Joshua."
"Hi," you returned the polite smile and told him your name. "And yes, I'm new here."
He let out a sigh, a faint smile playing on his lips as he attempted to conceal the fact that his gaze darted up and down your figure. "Well, let him know I'll have the usual, please," he responded.
"I trust he knows what your usual is," you replied with a smile.
Joshua jumped off the small stage and walked up to you. He was a beautiful man, even without his flashing smile or without the fiery energy he brought on stage while playing his guitar.
Suddenly you understood why there were so many groups of women on the bar tonight.
The Midnight Haze front man was hot as fuck.
"He knows, don't worry. And tell him that I'll take a table out back too, please."
One of his eyebrows was adorned with a silver piercing, and his lips, which he was pushing into a small smile were reddened.
You tried to smile at his kindness, totally not what you were expecting. "Uh, don't know what that means but... sure thing."
"Kay. Thank you, sweetheart," he replied with a content smirk, darting one final look at you before walking away.
You thought nothing of it, really. You returned to the bar, noticing that Wonwoo was watching your exchange with Joshua from afar. He leaned forward when you motioned to him that you were going to tell him something.
"He said he wants his usual," you informed. "And he said he wants a table out back."
Wonwoo's eyes glanced over to where Joshua was standing, chatting with some girls with a charming smile. "I'll tell boss about the table," Wonwoo turned to Mingyu. "One corrido prohibido for a table out back."
"Right away!" Mingyu nodded his head, and grabbed the sour mix he concocted earlier, a shot tequila and a beer.
Wonwoo exited the bar and went through the staff door. And then Mingyu pushed the drink towards you and swiftly rung the bell twice.
"Mingyu, I'm right here, you don't have to ring the bell," you chuckled.
He slapped his hand on the bell repeatedly, his lower lip trapped behind his teeth.
Ding, ding, dingdingding.
"Stop. Stop it, Kim Mingyu," you hissed and he giggled when you slapped his hand playfully.
You went to grab the drink, but as you turned over to where you last saw Joshua, he wasn't there anymore.
"What should I do with this?" you pointed to Joshua's drink.
"Boss wants you to take it to his office," Wonwoo told you, he was returning from the backdoor. He looked somewhat baffled.
Mingyu's eyes shot open. "Huh?!"
Wonwoo shrugged. "I don't ask questions," he said under his breath and pointed with his nose at the drink. "Go. I'll cover you."
"Uh, okay. Sure," you muttered, grabbing drink and turned to the backdoor.
The doorknob of the door that led to Seungcheol's office was unusually cold when you turned to open it. As you pushed in, you were received with a cool breeze that smelled like cigarettes, vape and alcohol.
It wasn't an office. Not really. Yellow lamps hung low on the ceiling, just above a few round black tables, surrounded by foldable chairs which were all occupied. The walls were bare, except for the three fridges were beer and other drinks were stored and the uncovered windows at the top of the opposite wall.
The faint echo of the music back at the bar was drowned by the mixed sounds of cards shuffling, clinking of poker chips, the finger taps on tables and constant chattering.
There was a desk on one corner of the cramped room, where you saw that Seungcheol was sitting, observing you make your way inside his room.
You closed the door behind you quietly. And quickly found Joshua sitting on one of the tables, accompanied by his bandmates. He was shuffling some cards, with a devious smile on his face.
He eyed you up and down again swiftly when you walked up to his table and handed him his drink. "Thank you, sweetheart," his lip curled into a smirk. "Don't stay too far."
Your breath caught for a moment, and though your typical response would have been dismissive, you managed a smile to the hot singer.
"Sure thing, hun," you chirped in your usual customer service voice. And turned to the door.
When you turned to the door, walking through the tables and chairs you eyed over the desk to see that it had been vacated. You opened the door to go back to the bar, feeling deeply confused about the secret gambling den on your boss' 'office'.
But as soon as you exited to the hallway that led to the door of the bar, you found Seungcheol leaning against the wall.
"Shit. You scared me, Seungcheol," you hissed.
He remained silent, and you briefly considered walking past him to head back to the bar. However, the expression on his face told you that he had something on his mind, yet he seemed set to not speak about it without some prompting from you.
"What is that room?" you started, pointing back to the door behind you.
Seungcheol crossed his arms over his chest and shifted on his feet. "It's my office," he replied in a simple tone.
"So what, you run a gambling house now?" you laughed dryly.
"It's just between friends. No one enters without my permission," he put in flatly.
"But I do?"
He blinked again, rolling his eyes with a hint of annoyance. "Joshua asked for you," he said through his teeth. "Normally I'd say no, but I wanted to see what you'd do."
"And what is that?"
"Don't try to play innocent with me," he warned, throwing a dark look at you.
"Well, I don't know what you're talking about," you shrugged, trying to look serious.
"Do you honestly think I don't know what you're trying to do?" he demanded, taking a step towards you.
Suddenly you felt small under his gaze. And now that you realized how close his body was to yours, you took the opportunity to really see him. He had gotten bulkier, his arms were more muscly, and his chest and shoulders were wider, more voluminous.
You swallowed hard.
"Flirting with customers, with Joshua?" his face was dangerously close to yours.
Your eyes narrowed as you scrutinized him for a split second. Seungcheol wasn't angry. If he were, you'd now it for sure. He was playing a game with you and you were to slow to catch it.
"I didn't flirt with him," you muttered, playing his game now. "And why do you care?"
"I don't care," he remarked, rolling his dark eyes. "Just quit it."
You scoffed at him. "You're not my-"
"Boss?"
Your breath caught in your teeth.
Seungcheol smiled cruelly. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"You can't tell me what to do, Seungcheol," you snapped.
"Fuck yes I can," he bit back.
Whenever Seungcheol was angry, he could be downright scary. But he wasn't angry, he was just annoyed, running a hand on his pale blond hair, looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with you.
Seungcheol was jealous.
A sigh escaped your lips trying to suppress the rush of emotions you felt at that moment. Whatever judgement you had on your mind slipped away when with a sudden movement, you grabbed your ex's face in your hands at the same time he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer his body.
Your face was so close to his that you could feel his breath landing softly on your chin. Then your lips brushed, not kissing. Waiting for either to push away. Until your mouth was clashing with his followed by a groan from Seungcheol.
The first kiss was heated. Your lips were clasped tightly on his and a small snap came out when you separated from his face.
Seungcheol didn't say anything at all, but his widen eyes were reading your face. He looked troubled for a second, and that almost shattered you. The ache in your heart robbed the air from your lungs.
You knew that kissing your boss was a terrible decision, but kissing your ex-boyfriend was an even worse decision. But, fuck, you missed him.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," you whispered, retracting your hands from his face.
His thick eyebrows arched in response. "Why?" he inquired, his voice sounded small, vulnerable.
Hearing his question made you notice that he was genuinely curious. As if the past between you never had happened. And as if you weren't his employee now.
"Because it's not right," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
"Why?" he prodded again. Seungcheol's dark eyes drooped from your eyes to your mouth and wandered back up.
"Exes don't kiss," you whispered.
A grin appeared on his lips along with a sigh, as his warm hand crept up the nape of your neck, making you shiver.
"Yeah, right," he whispered in your lips before kissing you again.
This kiss was greedy, as if he was making up for lost time. His lips locked in yours, the hand on your hip moved up your back so that his arm was encircling you, pulling you closer to his body with a groan on your mouth. His tongue swiftly slid inside your mouth, finding yours, knowing well what would elicit a moan from you.
He had missed you too. He didn't need to say it either.
Kissing Seungcheol again after so two years was so brutal that it left your head buzzing. But who were you kidding? You knew this would eventually happen. His arm around you, his other hand on the nape of your neck, the taste of his lips. It was deeply familiar, all of it.
"Do whatever you want," Seungcheol mumbled, breathing heavily in your lips. "Just don't flirt with him. Okay?"
"Whatever you say, boss," you whispered with a playful smile.
He laughed softly, but now his eyebrows arched up. "I mean it. He's my friend."
"Okay," you mumbled, not caring to contradict having flirted with Joshua. "I won't."
Even though Seungcheol was your ex, there was something in the way he made his request that made you feel sympathetic.
"I need to go back," he mumbled reluctantly.
"Me too," you replied.
But none of you moved.
He smiled again and pressed his forehead on yours gently. "Come on. We're almost done for the night."
You stole one final glance at his eyes before kissing him softly and turning away from him, not daring to look back as you made your way to the door.
As you returned to the bar, you noticed that it was not as crowded as when you had left. Many of the tables were still in use, but there were noticeably fewer people.
But as soon as Wonwoo saw you returned, he groaned: "Thank god," he threw a dishcloth over his shoulder. "What took you so long?"
Wonwoo returned to his initial position, behind the bar. He looked sweaty and stressed up from tending to your tables.
"Sorry, Wonwoo. B-boss needed to talk to me," you lied stuttering a bit. It wasn't much of a lie since you two did talked a little.
"Oh. Really? Everything okay?" he raised his head to look at you.
You sighed, still feeling flustered but it made up for the lies you were trying to tell Wonwoo. "Yeah, don't worry. I'm fine," you pressed your lips in a smile, and continued checking up on tables.
You returned to Seungcheol's office to check on the table Joshua was with his friends. They have resorted to drink from whatever was offered on the fridges but asked for a bottle of tequila, since they were playing an friendly game of black jack.
You returned with the bottle and placed it on the centre of their table.
"Thank you," Joshua smiled sweetly, you could tell by his glazed eyes that he was already tipsy. And you thought that might be the reason why he had dropped the flirtatious act.
"No problem," you replied and turned away.
Seungcheol wasn't observing you this time. He was sitting at the desk, counting a big pile of chips and putting groups of them in separate piles. At least he could busy himself, you thought.
You tried not to think too much what had happened, but just couldn't help it. It was driving you insane. Your skin felt ablaze still, like it was patiently waiting to feel Seungcheol's touch again.
The rest of the night went by quickly. And you were eager for your shift to end quickly so you could return home, have a cold shower and scream into your pillow until you fall sleep.
When you were finishing up your activities by the end of your shift, the noises coming from Mingyu's voice counting money, and Wonwoo running a list of things needed for restock slowly turned into a background noise for you.
It was hard to concentrate. You found yourself deep in thought, remembering over and over again the feeling of Seungcheol's lips on yours.
"Newbie, come to collect your tips," you heard Mingyu calling from the cash register.
"How much did we make?" you asked, aloof. You were just trying to divert your attention elsewhere.
Mingyu told you a number and you feigned surprise by seeing his big content smile.
"Nice, isn't it?" he giggled at the same time he bounced on his knees.
"Yeah," you sighed. "Very nice."
The bar felt really eerie when the lights were off. It was your turn to get the neon signs and lights because, as Mingyu put it, "The last one to get out gets all the lights."
Thankfully Wonwoo stayed behind and helped you out to get the neon signs, since you didn't know where all the switches were.
As you were going out, you made an additional stop to the restroom to wash your face, since nothing seemed to fully snap out from the constant overthinking. Nothing seemed to be able to put the buzzing in your head to rest.
When you came out from the restroom, the hallway was dark except for dim source of light came from Seungcheol's office, which had the door wide open.
The people that occupied the gambling tables had long evacuated the place, so it was all quiet and empty. You stepped under the doorframe. Expecting to see Seungcheol deep in work.
But he was leaning back on his desk, a leg crossed, hands resting at his sides on the edges of the desk. As soon as he saw you by the door of his office, he smirked, lifting his triumphant eyes to see you.
"Did you know I'd come?" you asked, walking a few steps up to him.
"I hoped you would," he replied simply.
A long silence filled the room. You felt hesitant about touching the subject of what had happened earlier in the hallway, but you knew that in reality, you and Seungcheol had to talk about many other things that went down between you.
But instead, you dropped your bag at your feet to then close the distance between you and your ex. Grabbing the hem of his shirt to pull him yet again to another fervent, needy kiss.
Seungcheol was expecting that as well apparently, locking lips with you almost instantly, his hands quickly found your hips, pulling you as close as he could to his frame.
"We need to talk, Seungcheol," you gasped in his mouth.
A groan in annoyance came from him as he captured your lips again. Then his hands moved from your hips to your lower back, ignoring the t-shirt you were wearing. His hands making contact with your bare skin sent a shiver up your spine.
"We'll talk later," he replied with a hoarse voice.
Then Seungcheol was back on your lips, fully knowing that you would make no real effort to make your demands happen. Hungrier this time, when his lips slid in yours he did it with more impatience, the hands on your body pressed you towards his body tightly, earning a soft noise that coiled in your chest.
It was almost as if you remembered perfectly the way he used to kiss your lips and your mouth parted just exactly when his tongue slid in your mouth, a soft moan coming from him in approval as his tongue lapped yours.
Soft pecks landed on your lower lip, to your chin and jawline. You angled your head to give him access, a mewl escaped your lips as he reached the tender spot beneath your earlobe.
"I'm sorry for being an asshole to you," he said in a raspy tone, pulling away so that he could see eye to eye with you. "I was just so angry. Seeing you again just brought everything back."
You could say the same. You never imagined you would see him again. For the past two years, your ex had been a living ghost in your mind, making you wonder constantly if he had ever found it in himself to forgive you. Above all, you wondered if he thought of you as often as you did of him.
"I should be apologizing to you, too. For everything that happened."
He shook his blond head once. "Later," he commanded before his lips sealed yours again.
Then he took you in his arms, turning you around to sit you down on the edge of the cold glass surface of his desk. Slotting himself between your legs, he removed his arms encircling you to cup your face before he kissed you fervently.
The muscles on his back felt hard as your hands slid on his white t-shirt from his waist to his shoulder blades, your hand found the back of his neck, fingers tangled on his soft blond hair. You used that hand to push him closer to your face, earning a throaty moan from him.
Then the tip of his tongue dragged on top of your lower lip, finding your tongue to stroke yours as his hands dropped from your face to roam on your body. His fingers squeezed your waist, grabbing the fabric of your top to lift it up slightly to dip his hands under it. Greedily roaming your skin.
Deciding it wasn't enough, he yanked the tank top from your body and you willingly lifted your arms for him. His dark eyes marvelled on your body for a second, tracing an invisible line with ginger fingers over your neckline.
You swallowed up a whimper at the gentle touch of his fingers.
"You looked so fucking hot tonight," he uttered in a raspy whisper. "Prancing around my bar in those shorts. Everyone had their eyes glued to your ass and all I could do was stand and let it be like a fucking idiot."
You smiled shyly, feeling flustered that Seungcheol actually fell in your little game. "What would you have done?"
One of his dark eyebrows arched up. "Given my way?" his hand moved from your neck to the back of your head, a fist tightening on your hair at the scalp. "I would let everyone know that you're mine. Mine to look at, mine to kiss, mine to fuck."
Your breath hitched, eyelids fluttered when he pulled your hair softly to angle your face for him to look in your eyes.
"But I'm not," you breathed. "Not yours."
His lips brushed beneath your jawline and you could tell he was smiling. "Really?" he placed feathery kisses on your neck, so gently that it tickled, but he continued making his way to your mouth.
"Yes," you whispered, feeling his lips on yours now as you spoke, you wanted more. "You'd have to make me yours."
You stole a glance at his eyes, a faint smile of victory appeared on his cherry lips. "What are you saying?"
Seungcheol's eyes looked at your face attentively, as if absorbing every movement and gesture you made. Taking advantage of the moment, you scrutinised the features of his face. A lock of pale blonde hair had fallen over his forehead, covering one of his eyes.
"Make me yours," you breathed and with your fingers you gently brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. Your touch caused his eyelids to flutter briefly. "Fuck me, Seungcheol."
You weren't sure what overpowered your mind in that moment. But every cell, every inch of your body felt an unbearable ache for him, it made your heart race, rushing blood in your neck and face. Harder to ignore was the throbbing pain, pooling in between your legs, demanding his undivided attention.
A groan escaped his mouth as he clashed it on yours again, demanding, suffocating. His hands slid down your back, unclasping your black lacey bra skilfully, removing the straps from your shoulders as he threw it aside. The cold of the air bit at your now bare skin as your breasts were now exposed to his view.
"Lie down," he ordered in a low tone.
You lied back on the cool surface of his desk, which was empty now so you had enough room for your body. Seungcheol wasted no time, busying himself in removing your sneakers swiftly to then take your shorts off. So now you were wearing fishnets and panties only.
His hands caressed your legs above the fabric of your fishnets, your body flinching when his fingertips reached your inner thighs, so close to your crotch. You let out a broken sigh when two curious fingers slid down your clothed pussy, pulling the fabric of your thong aside to dip the pad of his fingers in your entrance.
"God, you're soaking wet already," he smiled and then pulled his lower lip in between his teeth.
"I've been wet for you all night, Cheol," you confessed with a muffled whimper.
Seungcheol sighed under a bitter smile. "Flirting with other guys hoping to make me feel jealous gets you horny. Is that it, love?" he asked in a feigned sweet tone.
That made you blink and try to protest at the same time you felt his fingers on the sides of your hips, yanking down your panties and fishnets all together.
So he was jealous, but at the same time all too knowing that you were doing it on purpose.
A rush of warmth and eagerness flooded all over you just as his fingers ran down between your pussy lips again, skipping all build up, but it was just what you silently desired: his index finger sliding inside your wet core. You gasped and closed your eyes again when his finger was joined by his middle.
"I asked you a question," he purred as his fingers massaged your inner walls.
"Mmm, thinking about you makes me horny, Cheol," you gulped hard, giving up the last bit of your sanity at the delicious thrust of his fingers. "I saw you looking at me and that alone got me wet."
"Really?" he asked, just before running the tip of his tongue down your neck, making you moan and blink to see him bending down on you, his fingers buried in your wet cunt, pumping in and out.
It was a little game Seungcheol liked to play. You remembered it too well. He would tease you, pleasure your body while making you either beg or show him just how down bad you were for him. He loved it, like a cat playing with its food.
"It made me remember..." you breathed as he placed open mouthed kisses along your collarbones. "M-made me remember when you'd fuck me so good I'd see stars."
That took him off guard, his breathy chuckle brushed your skin softly, making it prickle. "So you were going around my bar with your panties wet because you'd think about us?"
You nodded. "Mmm-mmph."
He hummed as his mouth kissed one of your nipples, lapping around your areola just before his fingers crooked inside you, eliciting a loud moan from you.
What followed then were wet sounds coming from your cunt, while Seungcheol worked his fingers inside you and his tongue slid across the underside of your tits, to then suck harshly at your skin. The skin around your nipples started to flare and prickle as you whimpered and writhed under him.
"What would you think of?" he asked in a gentle tone. Then his teeth grazed at the soft underside of one of tits, causing you to whimper and grab his hair by the scalp and tug softly.
"Anything, really. I thought of your hands, your lips..." you whimpered as he repeated the same process with your other breast, leaving a trail of drool on your skin. "The night of your twenty-fifth birthday," you muttered.
"You thought of that?" he asked, lifting his head to catch your gaze. "While working? Angel, you can't be doing that on the clock..." he cocked his head to one side slightly.
He wasn't actually reprimanding you, but the tone he took when he said that was almost as if he were concerned. Seungcheol was well aware that you liked it: being told off by him while his fingers were still plunging inside your cunt and the palm of his hand pressing down on your swollen clit.
Your whole body tensed up. "I think of that night when I touch myself," you confessed, looking at his face through your lashes.
"You do, love?" he asked in a sweet tone.
"It's the only thing that does it for me," you replied in a broken moan as he continued to fuck you with his two fingers inside your cunt, his palm pressing hard on your sensitive bud, pushing you further to your release.
And in fact, you almost confessed that you haven't been able to cum with someone else since you broke up with him.
But he doesn't have to hear that.
Seungcheol hummed thoughtfully and turned his attention to the hand he was using to fuck you with to start using more speed and force on your cunt, causing the sounds of your arousal to splash on his hand louder.
"Oh, shit," you hissed. "Cheol, I-I'm, oh–,"
The veins in his forearm flared up, as he appeared to be determined to do it for you again. You knew what he was trying to do, and you got your body ready for it–your swollen clit pressed under his palm and his fingers twisting inside your walls, as he moved his hand harder on your cunt.
Whimpers and incoherencies came out from your lips, feeling the thrusting of his hand forcing an orgasm out of you. You cried out, stirring your back on the cold surface of Seungcheol's desk, hearing your own lewd cries and moans reverberating across the dark room.
"Mmm, that's it baby, cum all over my hand," he hummed softly, as his hand continued to move inside you mercilessly despite your walls clenching hard around his fingers.
Coming down from the rough orgasm, your body twitched and coiled, giving deep shaky breaths you opened your eyes to see him.
"That reminded you of something?" he asked in a gentle tone, but you could see in his face that he was tense: pupils blown in lust, the tip of his tongue dragging on his lower lip. And then pulled his fingers out of you, they were coated in your arousal, almost dripping to his knuckles as he took them to his mouth, licking them clean.
You nodded silently, and shuddered at the sight of him licking your slick off his fingers.
One of his eyebrows rose, a sigh escaping under a sweet, genuine smile. "Only the memory of us can make you cum yet you say you're not mine?" he tilted his head to one side and clicked his tongue. "Now, you might be lying to yourself, love."
You returned him a shy smile. "Maybe I just want to relive the memory."
Bingo.
He only hummed in response, his hand cupped the side of your face, his fingers reaching your scalp as he bent down to kiss you, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. You tasted yourself in his tongue and that made him moan sweetly before pulling away.
You felt restive under his lust-ridden gaze, impatient for him to just keep going. But you knew better than to pressure him, you knew when to beg for it and now you knew he was taking his time.
"I never imagined I'd see you here like this," he muttered in a low voice, taking a step back from his desk and his dark eyes studying your naked body splayed on the heavy glass surface. He ran his fingertips over your abdomen, tracing a line from your bellybutton to the middle of your clavicles, prickling your skin.
You bit your lower lip hard when your ex knelt down before you, taking your thighs in his large hands. You knew exactly what would follow next, because if Seungcheol knew what made you had you begging for him faster was his tongue lapping on your folds, licking your arousal from your core.
You cried out when you felt his tongue glide on your sensitive clit, your hands grabbed at his pale blond hair. Thrashing, you glanced down at the lower half of your body wholly naked on his desk, his blond head between your lush thighs.
Seungcheol hummed softly as his the tip of his tongue made a trail from your core up to your clit, giving it broad and generous strokes at your pussy, not neglecting a single inch. As he licked your arousal from your entrance, the tip of his nose bumped gently with your clit, knowing that would make you moan louder.
You arched your back on the cold surface of his desk, crying out his name and his calloused hands immediately slid on your lower abdomen, pressing his palms down on you before his tongue focused on your clit.
The tip of his tongue flickered at your already swollen clit, to only give it a few swirls around it and start nibbling at it with his lips. The movement almost sent you over the edge, just before his pointed tongue started flicking your clit as he moved his head up and down slightly, giving more motion to the movement of his tongue on your clit.
His hands pressed down on your lower abdomen, knowing well that would elicit more cries and whimpers from you. Your body grew tense and you let your body savour it. Your mouth parted, letting soft gasps out, your body twitching uncontrollably on his desk.
You jolted up, propping your upper body up on your elbows to see his face buried in your pussy, his mouth on your clit and folds as if he were making out with it. The image was almost sinful to watch. The lewd sounds coming from the interaction of his mouth on your cunt plus the whimpers and moans coming from you.
"Ohmygod, Cheol," you cried out, grabbing his hair tightly and your other hand found one of his that was pressing down on your lower abdomen. "'m going to cum, I'm going to–," you whimpered, giving his hand a tight squeeze.
As your cries of pleasure echoed across the room, you heard Seungcheol hum softly with you. Your body relaxed into your orgasm, mind going completely blank, eyes rolling back so hard that you saw colours behind your eyelids while you let your orgasm take you in waves of pure bliss, moaning his name over and over again.
He planted soft kisses on your pussy lips and one last kiss on your swollen clit, humming softly as he pressed his lips on your pussy lovingly. Your legs went limp as you felt him place them back on the cold hard surface of his desk.
"Cheol," you called in a lazy groan, still recovering from your high with shaky thighs and blurred vision. "I need you."
Seungcheol smiled at your soft pleas and whimpers, but his hand cupped your chin, his dark eyes locking on yours. "Are you still on the pill?" he asked while his other hand brushed a lose strand of hair from your forehead.
"Yes," you whispered and nodded with your head. Your hands searched for the hem of his t-shirt, sliding it up his back and he pulled away to help you take it off.
You sat up on his desk again, hooking your fingers on the hem of his jeans to pull him closer, your legs framing his body as you unfastened the buckle of his belt, hearing him sigh. You darted a look at his face, finding the ghost of a smile on his chapped red lips.
Seungcheol had definitely buffier since you last saw him. You noticed that he had accumulated more muscle mass, his lean chest showed more mass around his pectorals and shoulders, the muscles of his abdomen that would tighten softly when he breathed out at the touch of your fingers.
He placed a small kiss on your lower lip, making you smile as your fingers rushed to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. He helped you get rid of the rest of his clothes, standing completely nude before you in the middle of his 'office'.
"Remember when we used to do this in your bedroom at your parents'?" you asked sheepishly, a hand cupping his face as he kissed your face and lips fervently. "We'd pretend to study."
Seungcheol's lips rose in a bittersweet smile. "I remember everything, baby," he replied in a raspy tone. "We could barely keep our hands to ourselves. We didn't care if we got caught."
You placed impatient, rushed kisses on his wet lips. "I miss that," you muttered. "We'd fuck anywhere. In your brother's car, the park, the school library."
Seungcheol laughed as his hand snuck in between your bodies, grabbing his cock with one hand to guide it to your core. He gently dropped his forehead on yours and you whimpered when you felt his cockhead pushing on your entrance.
"We were so crazy about each other. So fucking in love," he whispered.
A sob coiled in your throat second before Seungcheol slid inside you slowly, his cock buried in you so deeply that you had to bite his shoulder to not scream. Your legs were wrapped around him as he started thrusting his hips on you, fucking you hard on his desk.
You groaned loudly when you felt his cock fill you up so nicely that you almost forget where you were, and everything that had led you to that moment.
Seungcheol fit in your body so perfectly that nothing–no one had even come close to making you feel like he did. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes when you felt tears of pleasure brimming in the corners.
His hands held you close to his body, a hand placed in one of your glutes and the other flatly on your spine–holding you in place as he plunged his cock deep inside you, fucking you open so good you couldn't think of anything else.
"You feel so fucking good. So tight around me. Just how I remember," he whispered in your ear, pushing so deep in you as if to make his point across.
You shuddered against his body at the same time you nibbled his shoulder with your teeth, drowning your cries of pleasure as Seungcheol plunged in your walls with little heed for being careful, but he knew you liked it just like that. You liked it hard, you liked that his cock was so big for you that it made your eyes water.
"Look at me, love," he commanded and you pulled your head back to face his dark eyes. "You're okay there?"
He read you so well.
You nodded, blinking lazily. "'m okay. Jus'keep going, Cheol."
The thing about Seungcheol is that when he loved, he loved with a fervent force that nothing could ever stop it. When he wanted something, he would stop at nothing to get it. He was passionate like that. And he loved you.
Past tense. Loved.
Now, you were sure that he was trying to relive the memory of what you had together, his desperate kisses and moans as he pushed his cock deep in you. His arms holding you as if you were a product of his memory, torturing him, kissing him softly.
Soft whispers of incoherent mumbles brushed in his lips, and you could make out your name in between broken sentences as Seungcheol appeared to be so lost in you that he could barely breathe.
"Fuck," he muttered through gritted teeth. You saw him shut his eyes tightly, his mouth parted a little, forming a little 'oh' but not quite uttering anything. Small giveaways that he was about to cum.
You used a hand to cup the side of his face to angle his lips to yours. "Cum in me," you whispered on his lips. "I want you to fill me up, Cheol."
Usually, he was the one telling you when to cum. Never the other way around. But the way he was trying to resist his release made you want to take control for a second.
Your hand slid on the back of his head, grabbing his long hair in one fist as he blinked and found your eyes. His hips buckled a second before he plunged them so hard and deep inside you, gasping for air as he came inside you.
His chest was so close to yours that you could feel the stutter of his heartbeat against you. A long second happened between you, exchanging longing glances as he breathed hard on your face, trying to calm himself down.
But then he made a motion for you to lie back down on his desk again, confused you followed his silent command and understood when he started plunging his cock inside your walls again.
Your brow furrowed, noticing how tired Seungcheol looked. "W-what–,"
"I'm not done with you," he explained and you could feel that his cock was still hard inside you.
Then he placed the palms of his hands flatly on the surface of the desk, his eyes wandering all over your body before stopping on your sopping cunt where his cum had already mixed with your juices.
You saw the features of his face as he pulled his hips back until the tip of his hard cock reached your entrance again and then he slammed his hips back in.
Seungcheol sucked in a breath and then bit his lower lip and muffled a long strangled moan in his mouth, sending a shiver along your spine.
"You look so fucking gorgeous," he groaned, his lust-lidded eyes looking at you.
The wet sounds that the movement created made him sigh in pleasure and throw his head back a bit, the enjoyment on his face was so arousing that had you moaning with him.
"So fucking wet and tight on my cock. Like its made for me," he sighed.
Your walls fluttered around him in response. Because probably he was right and your body was made for his. The way your body responded to the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands, when you felt his eyes on you, all for him.
Seungcheol shuddered as he pushed inside you before bending down and place open mouthed kisses on your chest. He hummed along the trail of kisses he started making while plunging inside you, his lips stopping on the soft skin of one of your tits to start sucking.
"Cheol," you whimpered.
The pressure on his lips against your skin intensified, leaving a trail of red spots all over your tits as he continued moving his hips mindlessly on yours.
A loud moan escaped your mouth and your body started trembling in pleasure uncontrollably beneath his weight, barely holding on for him.
"Shit," you hissed at the feeling of him marking you and your hand tangled in his hair.
A small snapping sound came from his lips when he finished marking hickeys in your skin, lifting his head to see you. His lust blown eyes found yours, a faint smile stretching on his chapped lips.
Then, you felt a hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit immediately to start rubbing fast and hard with his thumb.
"Cum for me, baby," he instructed, already knowing that you were nearing to your third orgasm.
"Cheol–Daddy!" you called in a high keen whimper; the pressure from your release taking you over and washing you into uncontrollable waves of joy and ecstasy that roamed all over your body, leaving you breathless.
"I'm here, baby," he groaned and watched your face as you cried and thrashed under his body, the merciless plunging of his cock in your throbbing, aching walls.
Then his thrusts became shallow for a second before he slammed his hips against yours so deep and slow that you cried out and bit your lip, your body still twitching from your high.
"You're mine," Seungcheol said in shaky breaths as he came inside you again, blinking slowly but never looking away from your face. "You've always been mine."
Sharp breaths left your mouth, trying to regain conscious under the weight of his body as he too appeared to be trying to compose himself. You blinked away some tears, reaching for his face to kiss his face.
While panting, he pressed lazy kisses on your lips and you returned every single one.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too," you replied, pushing a blond strand of hair away from his face.
He shook his head once, his eyes glinting with anguish. "You left. We could've find a way to work it out but you just left."
The pain became more and more intense. You couldn't shrug off the feeling that everything had changed, that the person in front of you was not the same person who had loved you so fiercely.
"I'm sorry, Seungcheol," you whispered, swallowing thickly. "I really am. I made a mistake. It was really stupid of me to leave."
Your hand returned to his cheek and he pressed his face towards it, shuddering under your touch. Your lip quivered as your eyes started to well up in tears again, so you thought to make an attempt to remove yourself from his desk and search for your clothes.
He pressed his body down on yours, trapping you between his frame and the desk beneath you. "Don't."
"Seungcheol–,"
"I'm not over you," he muttered, then he laughed bitterly. "As if this wasn't proof. I saw you again and I knew I was fucking done for."
"N-no, you fucked me because you can, Cheol. To prove a point to me–," you stuttered, trying to make sense of it all.
His big teary eyes drooped with disappointment, his brows knitted. "Baby, I tried to move on. For two fucking years I tried... and look where that's got me."
He made a gesture with his head, signalling to your naked bodies. You were so tightly pressed beneath the weight of the upper half of his body, his chest flatly pressed against yours that you barely had any space to breathe.
"Can you take me back after what I did? How?" you asked in a weak voice from swallowing your tears.
"I just want you," he whispered. "We can figure out the rest."
You swallowed thickly. "We're so different now. You're my boss now, Cheol. And I'm..."
He licked his chapped lips, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth as he seemed to run through his options in his mind. "I don't want you to quit. We can find a way to make it work."
Your eyes locked with his dark brown ones. "So what happens now?"
"It doesn't matter right now. All I want is us," he whispered, his hands moving to cup your face, a desperate look in his features. "Please, baby, just trust me this time. I know we can work it out. I'm ready now."
A sharp pang stabbed into your heart as you heard him practically pleading for your return. It was a sound you had never dared to wish for, something you would have only imagined in your most fervent dreams.
Tracing an invisible line along his lower lip with your fingers, Seungcheol sighed softly, his heavy eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. You knew you couldn't say no to Seungcheol.
After all, you never stopped loving him.
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✧ a/n: uuuggghhh i feel like a hypocrite cause i've always said that blonds aren't my type but i literally go feral for blond seventeen, oh well. if you liked reading this show it some love pls pls pls. stay tuned for part 2! taglist is open! tehe ₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎
PART TWO
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mistyacorn · 2 years ago
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you remind me of the main protagonist
sypnosis; dan heng and his odd way of saying “hey, i think i like you”
pairing(s); dan heng + fem! reader ⟿ featuring; pure fluff, really blank and super indirect dan heng, reader is compared to a female character (hence, fem! reader)
a/n; this was such a random write lol. im so sorry that it’s a bit of a mess, im still working on more clear storylines heheh . i hope it’s still enjoyable! ૮(ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ also i made beauty and the beast a canon fairytale here pffft u neva know
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⇢ DAN HENG is the type that literally nobody expects to like anybody, and therefore neither do you.
⇢ you’d probably even think that he dislikes you because whenever it’s just the two of you he never says a word. he’s dead silent. he only ever nods or gestures and barely looks you in the eye.
⇢ occasionally you’d get slightly jealous of how he speaks whenever march is with you guys (even though they always end up fighting verbally, it’s still talking!)
⇢ so you eventually take it as a ‘hint’ and try your best to move on.
⇢ though let’s be real, it’s not easy to move on from a crush if you see him almost everyday. especially when he has the most perfect emerald eyes and soft black hair….
⇢ one day, you’re in your room on the astral express and you’ve just finished the book you had borrowed from the express library recently.
⇢ you did borrow it without telling anyone though, so it kinda felt like you stole it haha…
⇢ but you definitely did not want to annoy dan heng with your request so stealing borrowing seemed like the best option.
⇢ you decide to head over to his room, hoping to secretly drop the book and go.
⇢ thankfully the boy is not in the room when you get there (which is super rare, go you!). you tiptoe as carefully as you can towards the bookshelf.
⇢ you quickly find the correct slot and insert the book.
⇢ just as you think you’ve accomplished your mission, you turn around and-
⇢ at the door stands dan heng, staring at you nonchalantly (as per usual). “hi.”
⇢ his sudden appearance immediately causes you to begin a five minute long explanation about how you got there. (yes, five minutes. idk how but you drag it on and on) its mostly bullshit you’re spitting out.
⇢ “…pom pom told me that there was this super cool book…. I just had to read it of course …..and it was really cool yeah yeah ….um about robots and science and…stuff….”
⇢ does pom pom even read?? you didn’t know!
⇢ and you definitely don’t notice amidst your frantic stories, but dan heng listens to you attentively in amusement. he actually has the smallest grin on his face, very well knowing you are making everything up.
⇢ to put it simply, he finds it endearing. he’s almost in a trance, just listening to you talk and talk and talk…
⇢ after you finish your story time, he snaps out of it quick enough for you to not notice anything.
⇢ and you bow repeatedly in embarrassment before dashing out of the room.
⇢ the following day, dan heng suddenly gives you a book out of nowhere. today, his signature cold face seems slightly nervous instead, but you don’t pay attention.
⇢ you see that the book is a fairytale, one that is right up your alley!
⇢ ‘Beauty and the Beast’.
⇢ you open the book to see a post-it note on the first page, with neat handwriting on it;
‘y/n, I saw you liked fairytales and the fantasy genre. I do not. But I stumbled across this book yesterday, and I remember reading the first three chapters sometime when I was younger. It seems like something you’ll like. The main protagonist reminds me of you. I hope you’ll like it.’
⇢ your face is red hot as you read his note. he wrote to you. he thinks of you. he said you reminded him of a princess. (what the fvck.)
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⇢ and secretly behind the scenes, dan heng is not as calm and collected as he seems.
⇢ after you put away the book and left that day, he took note of the book you had returned. fairytale…fantasy…
⇢ dan heng immediately started to think hard about any fantasy books he had read in his life. hours and hours of struggling later (he never reads fantasy, it’s too unrealistic for him), he finally remembers one.
⇢ he’d read the first few chapters of it before, and he remembers the main character all too clearly. she reminded him so much of you, yet he didn’t know why.
⇢ (truthfully, it was definitely because she was his first ever fictional crush. and now you were…… but he was never going to admit that to himself.)
⇢ he spends his night searching around the archives. 2am the next morning, he finds it.
⇢ dan heng goes to bed that night, heart thumping faster than usual, because now he realises just how much he likes you.
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© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim
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sunshine-and-moonshine · 2 years ago
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Cod Men as Sex Robots Au
Requested: No
Warnings: Spice. Vulgar language. Probably very incorrect Spanish.
A/N: this will not leave my head and I don’t know why.
It was a joke, a mean joke by your friends. To spice up your sex life they said.
“It” being the (rather expensive) sex bot in front of you, partway unwrapped from when you were oblivious to what he was. At least your friends got points for really going all out for your birthday. Although they likely saved a bit of money by going for one of the somewhat unpopular military styled ones.
You sighed, gently stroking the full lips of the robot in front of you. They were….rather soft for something made of metal and plastic. They almost felt real.
You sighed again, turning to walk away and get a drink from your kitchen but tripping over your own feet in the process, making you fall back…..and into a pair of strong arms.
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Ghost
Ghost looks down at the person in his arms curiously, feeling a bit awkward without his mask on. It was part of his programming after all, a sort of “scary” rough and tumble model, and he couldn’t be that without his mask. But if you didn’t want it on then he wasn’t allowed to deny you. Besides, the way you were touching his lips earlier was….nice.
“You okay?” He grunts out, righting you but not fully letting go, his hand staying on your lower back and keeping you close. Carefully, his eyes scan your face, marking it in his systems.
He hummed when you finally nodded in answer to his question, his hand dipping under your waistband and gripping one of your cheeks roughly.
“Good. But how about we work on making you a little less okay, yeah?”
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Soap
“Falling for me already, huh?” Soap jokes with a big bright smile as he cradles you back against him, his eyes already scanning your face, registering you in his system as “Owner”. He was a sort of “cute” model. For people who liked more romance or fun in their sexy times.
He’s not deterred by the way you don’t answer, his smile still on his face as he leans in close and presses his lips to yours, tongue flicking at your lips playfully before he pulls back.
“Cat got your tongue, Beautiful?” He chuckled, adoring the bashful look that comes over your face, the way you unsuccessfully try to compose yourself. It doesn’t last long, not when he steps closer, making easy work of undoing the strings of your sweatpants before yanking you closer by the waistband. “How about we take this somewhere more comfortable?”
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König
“Are you okay, Maus?” König asks you, his shroud still pulled up over his mouth, dangling precariously on the bridge of his nose. He was so big, but his nature was so soft. A sort of gentle giant model. He looks relieved when you nod affirmatively at his question, smiling kindly at you as he helps you back up to your feet. “I’m so glad! I’m not programmed to drive a car so I don’t know what I’d do if my beloved Maus was to get hurt.” He hums, cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands.
Idly, you wondered how something made of plastic and metal could be so humanly warm and soft.
His eyes glow yellow behind his mask, protocol making him analyze your size compared to his, already making him think of the best ways to have you take him without hurting you. How to stretch you so deliciously around his fingers so you could later take his cock.
His cheeks reddened a bit, internal fans kicking on to help cool him down so he wouldn’t overheat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Maus.”
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Alejandro
“*Si te vas a caer, al menos asegurémonos de que la próxima vez caigas en mi polla.” Alejandro tells you, smirking at your confused expression. Whether it was because you didn’t understand Spanish or because you were just confused as to why he was one, he didn’t know. Either way, he switched to English, just in case. “Hello, Beautiful.” He purrs, ever the flirt. And not just because it was part of his programming.
He cups your cheeks, leaning in and rubbing his nose up against yours, his eyes faintly glowing as he subtly scans your pupils (part of his recognition system).
“No need to look so tense, Amor.” He tuts, clicking his tongue. “I want you nice and relaxed for me.” He says, pushing you back onto your couch, barely letting any time pass before he’s crawling on top of you, working your shirt up and over your head. “Much better.”
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*Si te vas a caer, al menos asegurémonos de que la próxima vez caigas en mi polla. = If you’re going to fall, let’s at least make sure it’s my cock you land on next time.
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anykindofbean · 7 months ago
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Features
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Moondrop x Reader: Features
Such a beautiful smile 👉👈🌝
This is kinda like a part two to this
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Smooches given to a robot
If you wanna check out more of my works: Masterlist
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Nightshift.
It wasn’t everyone’s favorite kind of shift. But you enjoyed it; There was no screaming kids, No loud music, No parents fussing over their kids.
It was peaceful..
Besides the Moon animatronic following you the whole time..
And it’s not like you two weren’t aquatinted, You work mostly in the daycare, You’ve talked with him before while the kids were sleeping.
He’s just…Following you now..not speaking a word. All you can hear is the sounds of his limbs crawling around you.
You felt a chill go up your spine as you heard him get closer to you, You slowly turn around only to be met face to face with him. You flinched back slightly, Not expecting to only be inches away from his face.
You smile nervously. “ H-hey Moon?” It sounds almost like a question. He just laughs at your shocked expression, Leaning closer towards you. You instinctively step back. “ Can I..help you with something?”
Moon gets close once again, His faceplate rotating slightly, Almost like head tilt. “ Enlighten me..”
You raise an eyebrow, Curious about his request. “ About what?”
“..My features.”
You blinked, Going wide eyed. He must be referring to your conversation with Sun a while ago. You listed off features about Sun you’ve noticed to him per his request. You didn’t think Moon would pay attention to that, Cause who would want to listen to someone rant about their brother? Guess Moon was..and now he wants a turn.
“ Your features?” You repeat back to him. Moon keeps getting closer, The more you back up until you’re against a wall. No escaping now..
“ Yes..My features. Things you’ve noticed about me, Starlight..things you like?” He is dangerously close to your face, His bright red eyes are the only thing illuminating your face. You gulped, Not daring to look away.
“ Um..Your eyes?”
“ What about them?”
You breathed in, Before letting out a deep shaky breath. “..The light that shines from them..It’s pretty.”
His faceplate just tilts once again, He looks like he’s thinking. “..What else?”
“ Um..” You examine his face, Before your eyes flicker to his hat. “..I like your hat..” You laugh a bit. “ I’ve actually thought about making my own version of your hat..It’s just..so cute.”
Moon looks over at the side, The part of his hat that’s dangling over his shoulder. He just hums as a response. You can’t tell what he’s thinking..
He looks back to you. “ Anything else?”
You nod, Looking at his facial features once more. Your eyes land on his permanent smile.
“ Your smile..”
Moon’s eyes are glued to yours. “ Go on..” Face Leaning even closer, His nose almost touching yours.
Your breath hitched, You’ve dug yourself a hole..
“ It’s..a smile that I can’t help but smile back at..Such a beautiful smile you have..” You smile softly, Looking Moon in the eyes. You then feel Moon cup your jaw with one hand. “ Beautiful?”
You go wide eyed, But you manage to speak out. “ Y-yes.”
Moon looks down at your lips. “..Beautiful enough..To kiss?”
You felt your words and breath get caught in your throat. Your face growing warm, As you lifted your hand to Moon’s, Not sure what to do yet. Moon glanced up to meet your eyes once more, Patiently waiting for your response.
A shaky breath left your lips. “..Y-yes..”
If Moon could, He’d smile even wider. “ Beautiful enough..for you to kiss?”
This robot..
You manage to gain enough courage to lean foward, Your lips pressing a gentle kiss in the middle of Moon’s unmoving smile. You wrapped your arms around what would be considered his neck.
It was strange..
Your warm lips against the cold metal mouth..
The feeling was strange..But a good strange.
Moon pushed his faceplate against yours, As an attempt to try to kiss back. His other hand raised up to your waist, While the one around your jaw stayed, grip tightening however.
Eventually you pull away, Looking into Moon’s eyes. You swear that his pupils turned into hearts. You moved your hand to trace it against the faint outline of chapstick you were wearing left on Moon’s smile.
“ Does that answer your question, Moon?”
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I hope you enjoyed! I apologize if it’s a bit cringe..
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rahuratna · 2 months ago
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Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.
Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.
Warnings: canon-typical violence.
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"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered."
~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath
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Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.
"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"
"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "
"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."
Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -
"Are you all right?"
Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -
Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most. 
"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."
Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.
"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."
Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.
Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.
Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)
The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.
When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.
When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?
When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.
Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.
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Warmth. Kinship. Command.
When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.
My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.
Megumi.
That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.
The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.
The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.
And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.
The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.
The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.
The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars. 
Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.
We watch the sky together.
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It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.
He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.
"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"
"How am I loafing?"
"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."
"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."
"Wow. So cold ... "
And on another occasion:
"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."
" ... "
"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"
"Who's there."
"As a question, not a statement!"
"Does it matter?"
"Fine. It's doughnut."
"Doughnut who?"
"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"
"Please just give me the sandwich."
Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.
Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.
She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.
She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.
Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.
Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.
His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.
She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.
After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.
It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times. 
"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"
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Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.
This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.
Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.
His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.
Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.
Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.
Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.
Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.
He heard her.
He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.
He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...
But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.
No! Please! Help me!
Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.
Is this it? Is this all she can summon?
But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.
In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.
For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.
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Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.
Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.
When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.
Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.
Nanamin was like bread.
Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.
Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.
Ha. Anyway.
Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.
Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.
Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.
Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.
Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.
"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"
"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."
Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.
"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."
A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.
"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."
Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.
"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"
"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."
"It isn't?"
"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."
Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.
"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."
Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.
"I can tell."
"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."
"Whoa. For real?"
"Yes."
"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"
"It is."
"Hmmm."
Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.
"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."
"What - "
"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"
"Yuuji - "
"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"
All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.
Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.
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Dividers by: @sister-lucifer
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lovelybunn · 9 months ago
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"special" request.ㅤ- feat. engineer & gender neutral reader
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warning(s): smut (under cut), sucking fixation, praise kink
word count: 1.8k
The engineer was working on one of his many schematics for the team inside his workshop, until you came over to pay him a little visit.
The man was deep in concentration, his eyes focused intently on the blueprints scattered across his workbench. Unexpectedly, the sound of footsteps disrupted his thoughts. “Howdy, partner. How may I help you today, son?” The moment he heard the sound of your familiar laughter, he swiveled around in his chair to face you.
He chuckled in his typical sweet and sultry tone, his soothing voice causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Ah, it's you. Nice to see ya, (Name). What’re you doin’ this late at night? Isn't it past your bedtime, little feller?” To be quite frank, he was right. It was almost two in the morning when you showed up inside his workshop. “Well…” you started, wanting to find the correct phrasing. “I'm gonna ask for a weird favor from you.” you said, watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion. He burst into a deep, belly laugh at that, shaking his head to himself. “Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, sugar. There's nothing you could ask from me that'll shock me even in the slightest.”
You sighed, taking that as permission. “Engi…Can I touch you?” You asked sheepishly, feeling a bit nervous to approach the issue. The engineer gave you a curious expression, lifting his goggles up to look you dead in the eyes. Before he could process your words, he tilted his head to the side, a hint of confusion playing at his brow. "Touch me?" He repeated, the gears in his head visibly turning as he tried to decipher your words. “What do you mean by that, (Name)? You're bein’ rather vague, kiddo.”
You nervously rubbed the back of your neck, biting your lower lip as you spoke. "Maybe…like, a hug or something? I kind of need one." You felt the heat in your cheeks grow as you stumbled over your words. The engineer took notice as well. Although, instead of laughing at you like half of the other mercenaries might have done, he looked genuinely concerned. “Well, why didn't you say that in the first place, darlin’? If you were having a bad day, you'd know I try and help you. I may only be able to solve practical problems, but I love my friends.” He paused, patting his lap. “Come ere, then. Come give this sleep deprived genius a good ol’ hug, yeah?” He holds out his arms for you to embrace him.
You couldn't help but giggle at the sweet gesture, settling into the man's lap with a soft thump. You noticed how warm and soft he felt against you as you wrapped your arms around his broad, muscular shoulders and buried your head into the crook of his neck. The engineer chuckled softly as he rubbed gentle strokes across your back with his robotic hand, the cold metal sending shivers throughout your body. It was a strangely soothing sensation, the contrast between the cold, hard surface of his hand, and the warmth of your body providing a unique sensation that left you feeling incredibly relaxed… maybe even a bit curious.
To act on that said curiosity, you decided to push a bit further. The engineer patted your back gently as you sat up to lock eyes with him once more. “You feeling better now, (Name)?” You nodded slowly, your eyes heavy from the intense sense of relaxation flowing through you. “Mhm…” He smiled in response, “I'm glad to hear it. Alrighty then, lil bit. You better go get some shut eye before—” His words were abruptly interrupted as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips onto his.
You felt the scruff of his beard against your chin and the warmth of his breath against your lips. The taste of his mouth fills you with a sense of tenderness and desire that makes your heart pound in your chest, a desire that only seemed to grow larger and larger as both his real and robotic hands found their way beneath your shirt. Your skin prickled with anticipation as he chuckled deeply in your ear. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. “Ya seem to want more than just a hug, sweetheart.” He said, the sweet sound of his Southern drawl buzzing in your ears. He paused to kiss you once more. “It's a great thing I agree with you, huh?”
Your eyes lit up in excitement as you asked, “Really? You wanna do this with me?” His voice dropped several octaves as he chuckled, his words making your heart race. “Oh, baby, I've wanted to do this with you for a hot minute.” The engineer grazed the tips of his robotic hand against your soft, pouty lips. “Ain't you a cute little guy?” He hummed, “you like Gunslinger, yeah?” You murmured a small "yes" in response, your attention completely focused on the engineer's subtle, sensual movements.
“(Name),” he said, his tone soft, yet demanding. “Show me how much you like Gunslinger.” A mischievous smirk crept onto the man's lips, the one you'd only ever seen when he was planning to scheme against the other team. “Use that pretty little mouth of yours.” You blushed profusely at the suggestion, “Engi, what did you just say?”
Before there was any more room for questioning, he slid a thick, metallic finger into your mouth. “Suck it, baby. We both know you want to.” Involuntarily, you moan quietly, wrapping your lips around the digits. Your tongue lapped circles in between his fingers in a delicate, slick motion. “That's right, just like that,” the engineer croons. “That tastes good in your mouth now, don't it?” You hum in agreement, tasting the familiar tang on your tongue.
After a few moments, he slipped his Gunslinger out of your wet mouth. The engineer gazed in awe at the state of his hand, now covered in your slick saliva. He let out an audible exhale, his eyes trained on the sight as he spoke. "Good job," he praised, a hint of appreciation in his voice. You smiled eagerly in response, curious to see just how far you could take this venture. The excitement only grew as you watched his eyes shift from his hand to you, a playful glint in them. He chuckled lowly, his normal hand grazing against your skin, down the curve of your neck and across your jawline. Finally, the engineer's thumb circled your lips in a soft, gentle motion, causing you to lean in just a little closer, drawn in by his touch. “I'd reckon there's a lot more you can do.”
You chuckled at his words, your voice laced with desire as you teased, “Oh yeah? Like what?” He found your boldness humoring, letting out deep, full-bodied laughter. “I’ll show you, ‘like what,’” he replied, his tone matching yours. “Could ya stand up for me, (Name)?” Oblivious to his intentions, you obeyed, giving him space. You were a little confused about what he was doing, until you watched as the engineer unlatched the straps of his overalls, letting them fall off his shoulders.
He felt you gawking at him, and smirked. “You like what you see? This is all self-made.” You bit your lip before asking, “What are you planning, Engi?”
“It's simple, really,” he says, his voice even and matter-of-fact. “All you gotta do is get on your knees and open that mouth.” Once again, you did as told without a second thought. Your eyes widened with the realization of just how far you've come.
He let his erect cock out from his boxers, already dripping with precum. He peered down at you, his expression lustful as he drank in the sight of you beneath him. You caressed his member, rubbing the veiny groin against your cheek. You lick at the base of the engineer's cock slowly, daringly. He groans softly in response, the sound alone making your mind spin. You could feel his hand on your head, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of heat through your entire body. “Oh, damn, baby, I didn't have to tell you anything, huh?” He let out another small, contented groan, his words laced with admiration. “You just know exactly what to do.”
The tip of him filled your mouth; your tongue teased at the sensitive spot. You made direct eye contact with the engineer while you pushed him deeper down your throat. He felt so good with you wrapped around him, his breathless, delicious moans reflecting the pleasure you were giving him. His voice was gruff as he spoke, his thick accent returned. "Yeah, that's right," a low growl rises in the engineer's throat, “Just like that, cowboy. Show this good ol’ engineer how much you love him.” One of your free hands took a hold of the base of his cock and stroked it vigorously as you sucked harder and deeper on his cock. The way his head fell back over the chair, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, was enough to tell you he was close. His breathing grew heavier, his body tensing as he moaned your name, “Oh my lord, (Name),” He grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You're gonna make me cum, baby.” And cum he did. The engineer's hot seed flows into your mouth, coating your throat with its white, thick texture.
He laughed breathlessly, combing through your scalp in appreciation. “Good,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy. “That was amazing, darlin’,” he continued, "Now, stick that tongue out for me." His thumb took a hold of your jaw, opening your mouth. He snickered as he looked at the thick puddle of his own cum lathered onto your tongue. “Damn… I didn't realize I had that much in me.” He caressed your cheek before he slowly removed his hand from your face, reaching for a tissue for you. "There you go," he said, cleaning you off. You smiled and swallowed the rest of his cum. “Thanks. That was fun.” You exclaimed hoarsely, your jaw a little sore. You stood back up to sit in his lap once more. The two of you shared a sloppy, yet tender kiss, your bodies leaning into each other in an act of post climactic bliss.
You pull away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of your panting lips together. “I've always wanted to do that, y'know.” You paused, your eyes averted away from him nervously. “I just didn't think you'd be into it.” He kissed your forehead reassuringly. “Well, I've had my eye on you for a while now, (Name). There's not a lot of people quite like you around these parts.” The engineer grazed your spine and leaned closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “And you're quite the dirty little thing, aren't you?” You giggled and shrugged. “I guess I am.” He kissed your neck, enjoying watching you sigh at his touch. “I guess we'll have to do this more often, then. I wouldn't mind having someone else hangin’ around with me during the later hours.” He murmured onto the nape of your neck. “I'd like to have an assistant for all my special needs.”
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chaoticyumelikes · 3 months ago
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Sweet!! I have a request..fanfic! I wasn’t sure which character you write for but I’m leaning towards redson from lmk ( love me a tsundere ) who has a fem partner who’s very shy yet cuddly and wants affection from him since he’s busy with his machines but of course this is making the fire prince flustered since he’s never seen her that way and it gets worse when she says with a cute sad doe eyes “ please kiss me ” and boom. The rest is up to you! Hopefully this was okay!
Alright!!
Redson x shy!reader
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Weeeeeellll opposites do attract but oh boy.
To have fallen in love with you was not easy on the flaming prince. He was of royal status. He couldn't waste his time with peasants much less so when he has the duty to build and conquer to gain the favor of his own parents. But then he meets you, a shy little mortal peasant and he scowls. When he isn't able to hear you he is LOUD and curt.
"SPEAK UP PEASANT!"
Your hurt expression does give him pause and he readjusts his temper slightly. A veeeeery tiny fraction. At first.
He does begin to like your presence though. You actually listen to him to all his ramblings, you grow fascinated at his technology and even though you don't understand his more technical terms you edge him on. So he begins to search for you when he has brilliant ideas for new mech. If he has your phone number expect him to call you at odd hours and rant to you about his latest invention and plans all the while on his bed kicking his legs with a huge smile on his face. If you complain about the hour he will get a bit snappy after all why should he respect your weak sleeping schedule. He does take note of it and kiiiinda tries to respect it. When he remembers that is. This man/demon is full of work so he's going to forget what hour and what day it even is. But he does feel fortunate to have you. While his parents treated him as a disappointment you were there fascinated and loving his every invention.
As time passes he drops the "peasant" around you.
MK tired: Stop calling us peasants...
Redson with a greatly offended expression: Excuuuuuse you Noodle Boy! I called you all peasants! *points at you with his hand* They are superior to you. In fact! *he shoos away MK from around you with a disgusted look on his face while gently dusting you off the Noodle Boy's germs off you* Stay away from them, don't bother them, don't look at them, don't infect them with your very presence. Come along dear let's go enjoy civilised company together.
Yeah... He is trying... If you point out he was rude to MK be prepared to chase a flaming Redson after MK on accounts on trying to poison you against him.
You: Please stop trying to hurt MK.
Redson smiling after a while of this repeated topic of conversation: I wouldn't dream of it *secretly presses a button to deploy several robots and weapons to carry out the job*
Invitations to his home and workshop, feel pride my shy human mortal, for you get to see the genious at work! You even try to help out when he vehemently prohibits so. You are his guest and his workshop isn't exactly... Mortal friendly. He will treat you like royalty in return for you caring about him all the while denying it. Point out his blush and he will snap that it's just the heat from the lava. And speaking of this, he will sometimes work without a shirt on and then it's your turn to blame your rosy cheeks on the general heat.
Redson: Excuse me, they asked for no pickles *now threatening the clerk* IS THAT SO HARD FOR YOUR PUNY MORTAL PEASANT BRAIN TO COMPREHEND?!
Yeeeeah he has a temper and it causes problems in his everyday life including you. He will not apologise.... By words I mean. He will leave you trinkets and acts of service. Builds you a robot for protection or build you a super cool (and deadly) vehicle.
Now about trying to show this man physical affection... Will be hard. Redson's not a very touchy person as he is deeply indoctrinated into his noble ways. And nobles do not touch unless a specific protocol is followed. So it has to be introduced in small baby steps.... You know.... Gently.... Like trying to disable a bomb.
He won't hurt you but he will flinch away and give you a look of discomfort and suspicion. Insist and be prepared for a lecture on proper etiquette.
When he FINALLY gets that he loves you... Well his world shatters. He starts to overthink and have panic attacks. How would his parents react (they have known for the longest time)? How would he court you? Should he stick to ancient demon ways to court a human? By formal kidnapping? Should he learn the human peasant ways? Eugh! But should he? Etc, etc.
He begins to shower you in gifts made by him. Super cool armor to protect you that ends up with so many functions and customization that you can't move at how heavy it is. Like I mentioned before a robot buttler, a robot bodyguard, a robot cook.... You know what? Just move in the mansion and you get a robot army. You think he is kidding... He is definitely not. The mansion has room and protection and he will make sure to attend to your every need plus you will stay close to your one only genius. Deny him and he will do as he always does..... Makes even more effort that ends in new explosive failures. One time the Monkey Crew even asked him if he was trying to actively kill you.
When you two finally get together.... You're not able to touch him, even get near him thanks to his fire powers go out of control at how happy he is. Even his parents thought for a second that he had the Samadi fire back.
He is a demon while you're human so it is a relationship that has a learning curve on the both of you. Most intimacy happens behind closed doors. On one hand you have to initiate by verbal statements.... Which due to your shy nature it's hard. Plus he is more often working than not and so you don't want to bother him. But once you do say your piece he will finish his project fast to give you the cuddles you crave.... Well almost, as he is still stiff trying to engage in less formal ways. So be prepared for him to be like a stiff manequin as you're the one that have to whether tell him or put his arms around you to what you find acceptable. Say you want kisses and I hope you're wearing layers of non-inflamable cloth or you may get burned by his embarrassment or even eagerness. He controls it with time thanks to "training" (constant cuddles and kisses). Nonetheless you'll sometimes look like a freaking forge master as he tries to reign in his flames while you try anything new. Every Winter is a blessing, 10 out of 10 cuddles, while every Summer you'll need to crank up the AC or you will die (and yes you are forbidden to deny him affection. It is LAW).
Either way once he gets the hang of it..... Be prepared to have a very clingy boyfriend as he is extremely touch starved. He, formal and set in his ways as he is, WILL include in the daily schedule hours for cuddles and other forms of affection... If you get yourself a minute or micro second late you WILL be scolded. Initiate your best affection or you'll never hear the end of it.
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leahnardo-da-veggie · 1 month ago
Text
Can I?
Can I be angry, just for a little moment? Can I scream and weep and laugh, just for a little bit? Can I let this mask fall off and this heart hurt, just for once?
I have been good for so very long. I wear my best clothes and my best face and my best words in a cloak around me, not one hair out of place. I sleep later than I would like, to fit in, and talk more than I would like, to stand out. I practise expressions in the mirror, just in case I need to switch them quickly. I try my best to be a good human.
These days, nobody notices. They call me ‘empathetic’. They say I am ‘receptive’ and ‘a lovely person to be around’. They like me, because my mask is sealed on tight and my patter is well-rehearsed. It gives me a measure of pride to have gotten a good grade in personhood, to be, by extension, a good person.
This was not always the case, however. I used to laugh when they yelled at me, cried when they cheered. I shied away from human touch, clawed at my flesh like a feral cat when afraid, acted in ways a proper human should not behave. I lived in the depths of the uncanny valley, trying and failing to climb out. 
They disdained me for it, derided me for it, despised me for it. To them, I was an alien, foreign, untrustworthy and hostile. To them, I was a robot, good for my funny little facts and clever tricks but hardly worth treating as a person, let alone a friend. To them, I was not human, not one of their people, not worthy of being amongst them.
So I lied. I painted a mask of jokes and trivia and all the things that made a person likeable. I learnt to smile through the pain of ‘fun’, of parties and events and all other forms of torture. I emoted and empathised and endured until I was a good person and I no longer wished to be.
They say humans are a social species. They say no man is an island. I say: what does that make me? Does it make me broken, a failure of a person? Does it make me evil, an antisocial psychopath? Does it make me an alien or robot, just like they said I was? 
What am I, once you peel off the mask and the lies and everything that makes me ‘human’?
I do not want to be an alien. I do not want to be a robot. I do not want to be ‘human’, if it means dancing to a tune I cannot understand and laughing at jokes I do not comprehend. I want to be me.
Can I?
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