#can always use the phrase Eat me
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How do I explain I'm being a fucking weirdo and using inanimate food objects to ground / keep calm and taking them and putting them out of reach when there's nothing else I yet feel safe getting is Very Hard for me.
#ranpo dont look#ranpo look away#i do this at home too but right now its kinda a bit more imperative#since apparently “youve literally acted like this house is completely unsafe to eat in and thus i feel nervous because i dont know your#house norms and dont want to be labaled terrible for that“ is a confusing concept siu has yet to grasp#and also because when hungry its really hard to cope with the panic and anxiety so its even harder to leave to eat in an unfamiliar location#i forgor that i can be so dysfunctional with food brcause its been so long since sonething triggered it#i may just try to avoid eating today since if i go long enough itll stop hurting#i didnt used to be able to eat where people could see me and would have panic attacks when seen and i just kinda forgot because its not been#a problem anymore. oops#maybe i should bring back the phrase my therapist used of “emotional support puckle jar” since that feels apt and i really dont like my all#of three snack things no longer being allowed near me#yes i know a closet isnt that far away but i cant see them there without my glasses and thats An Issue#also it brought up something about hygiene / water / showers and now im feeling extreme anxiety over that#i have a feeling im gonna get sick today. cant imagine why.#im glad crying doesnt ALWAYS bleach my face because then siu would be worried.
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it's just instinct, all i want is you.
how long it takes for the blue lock men to realize you’re the one. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku ─ content: fluff, suggestive
note. desperate and yearning hcs next??? who knows
it takes itoshi rin 6 months.
rin likes to think that he’s slow and deliberate with his relationships— that he’s not the type to have such decisive thoughts about someone so early on. he’s spent years building up a wall to protect his feelings, and he’s not about to let a (potentially fleeting) person ruin what he's worked so hard to maintain. he's only been with you for 6 months, and he has his doubts about whether you would want to stick around. but all it takes is, “i’m so proud of you, rin,” and his world is completely tilted off its axis.
he tries to tell himself that it's nothing; he's been complimented by other people before.
you probably didn't even think much of it when you told him. it’s just a simple phrase, one of many that people say without thinking. but it's different, it's special, when it's coming from you. your words repeat in his head, like some mantra. it's like his senses are overwhelmed by you. he finds himself focusing solely on your voice, the way you look at him with such gentle eyes, the sincerity behind your words— you. it’s scary how much it affects him. it rattles something deep inside of him, and it shakes him to his core.
he doesn't want to hear it from anyone else, he quickly realizes. those praises don't mean much when it's not coming from you. they don't make him feel unstoppable, like he’s on some high that he’ll never be able to get down from. and he's hit with a jarring realization—
“say it again,” he's standing in front of you, ignoring the incessant flashing of cameras that surrounds him and the deafening cheers of the crowd. he's only looking at you.
“i’m so proud of you,” your voice is quiet, but all he can hear is you, “rin.”
—he's fallen for you, much deeper than he thought he would. he’d be damned if he let you slip away.
it takes itoshi sae 1 year and 3 months.
sae had no intention of falling in love with you. needless to say, his affection for you wasn’t some calculated move. the thought of liking you hadn’t even crossed his mind, and he’s not even sure if he’d ever considered you as a friend. you’ve just been around for long enough that he’s stopped questioning it, that he’s grown to tolerate your presence. at least, that’s what he tells himself. he lets you come over when you want, eat all the snacks in his pantry, use his netflix account— to everyone else, you’re basically a couple. before he knows it, you’ve settled into his life the way a familiar song gets stuck in his head without him noticing.
it’s hard to deny the noticeable shift in sae’s behavior whenever he’s around you.
the way the frown on sae’s face vanishes to a more passive state whenever he’s talking to you, and he's much less irritated at the aspect of having to answer your random (but stupid, in his opinion) questions. he’s not aware, but a part of him subconsciously looks forward to it. “would you still love me if i was a worm?” comes another one of your stupid questions, and he answers without thinking.
“yeah.” the expression on his face remains the same, he’s as indifferent as he always is. but his answer takes both of you by surprise. under his cool facade, his mind is scrambling to make sense of his answer, as if he hadn’t expected himself to say such a thing.
you’re flustered, and it’s evident in the way you stumble over your words. a part of you begins to wonder if that was simply a figment of your imagination, like some hallucination from sleep deprivation. “what— huh?”
so he plays it off, he acts as if he meant to say it. “you heard what i said.” he realizes his heart had decided on you longer than he’d ever been aware of.
it takes nagi seishiro 3 months.
nagi’s used to being alone— he’s used to neglecting himself and every aspect of his life because no one is there to tell him not to do so. he’s not used to having someone be a constant in his life, to have someone who isn’t thrown off by his apathetic and lazy attitude. sometimes he wonders if he acts this way to keep people out, and he wonders why you choose to stay despite. but slowly, you color your way into his bleak routine.
at first, it’s subtle. you linger around him, but your presence isn’t demanding for his attention. you’re there, but you let him be.
and then your presence becomes something a little more prominent. he starts to notice the little post-it notes you leave in his locker, and how you remember to sneak in his favorite snacks. or how his pillows start to smell like your shampoo, and the way he becomes used to having you there in his living room as he plays video games. or even the fact that he finds himself waiting by the gate when classes end, and how he doesn’t mind being pushed around by the crowd as he searches for you in the endless sea of students so he could walk with you. so he could be with you.
he starts to feel like he’s truly living, like there’s something to look forward to every day.
when you say, “see you tomorrow,” he deflates at your words. it’s a weird feeling— he feels weird at the thought that he doesn’t like being alone anymore. that he misses you in the way he misses his phone. he feels bored without you there, and a part of him feels so empty when he doesn’t have you beside him.
when he drops you off at home that day, he realizes it feels strange to be alone again— “can you stay with me?”— he needs to be with you.
it takes michael kaiser 7 months.
kaiser lets his ego get in the way of his relationships. he thinks he can have anyone he wants, and that's why he wholeheartedly believes that he's above the idea of yearning for someone. the idea of wanting someone so much that his thoughts would be consumed by them, and only them? it’s unimaginable. he’s used to being admired, worshipped even, by others. he doesn’t need anyone— he doesn’t need you.
so the prick of irritation he feels, when he sees you laughing at another man’s jokes, catches him off-guard.
it shatters his pride, and he tries to ignore the heat that bubbles under his skin. but he can’t ignore the feeling of possessiveness that washes over him at the sight. you’ve always been his— the heated touches, the way you wear his cologne on your skin, the way you linger around him like it’s natural. you're mine, he always thinks to himself, but he never says it out loud. he’s above yearning— but the idea of you being with someone else makes him feel sick. and he’s not about to let another man take you away.
“come with me.” his voice is sharp and demanding, his mere presence filling the space with an unspoken challenge. but before you can speak, kaiser’s gripping your wrist, pulling you into him without another word of explanation. you don’t fight him, you don’t fight the excitement that it brings you. there’s something in his gaze, something so possessive and raw, that makes you follow him wordlessly. you’re mine, the thought echoes in his mind and for the first time in months, he can’t deny the feeling that has been brewing under the surface.
he yearns for you, and he’ll never let anyone strip this feeling away from him.
it takes oliver aiku 4 years and 2 months.
oliver would never deny the fact that he enjoys having you around. but you’re simply his friend— nothing less, and definitely nothing more than that. you’ve been in his life for years now, lingering in his orbit in a way that keeps you both close, but so far. you’re a constant in his life because he doesn’t need to act around you. he never needs to impress you, never needs to win you over with sugary words. you’ve never given him the typical attention he’s used to, the type of attention that he naturally demands. and that bothers him in a way he won’t admit. yet, it’s this disinterest that pulls at him like gravity. it keeps him coming back, keeps him by your side.
but he doesn’t want anything more from you— he doesn’t need it. it’s these words that keeps him from tainting you.
he doesn't like the dangerous and greedy feeling of wanting to have more of you, wanting to see you in ways that no one else has, and that dangerous feeling that makes him want to devote himself to you wholly. and that’s what gets to him. he’s used to being the one in control, the one who dictates the terms.
it's a futile attempt, he realizes. it's always been you who's had the upper hand.
he can no longer deny that he wants you, more than he’s ever wanted anyone. no one else has his heart racing ‘til he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, no one else has him hooked in the way you’ve been stringing him along. and suddenly, all those meaningless flings feel like distractions, like he’s been wasting time when what he really wants is right in front of him.
it’s not about lust, not about the chase—he just wants you. and this time, he’s not about to let fear or pride hold him back.
© rindreamery, 2024
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro x reader#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#oliver aiku#oliver aiku x reader#aiku oliver#aiku oliver x reader
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Keith Edwards at No Lies Detected:
Donald Trump has been in office for one week, but it feels like a year’s worth of events have been crammed into those seven days. That of course is by design. Trump thrives on overwhelming our capacity to react, flooding the zone with chaos until we are too exhausted to resist. He wants you to feel powerless. He wants you to surrender. But this is not about resistance; it is about reclamation. Resisting implies he is in control, and we are simply pushing back. Reclaiming puts us in the driver’s seat, taking back what was always ours to begin with. Today, I’m going to write about how not to give up, how to take back your voice in your own future, so that when a year actually has passed, you’ll be able to look back not with exhaustion and despair, but with the satisfaction of knowing you fought back.
Give Yourself a Break – But Do Not Break
You do not have to be a political warrior every waking moment. If following every outrage sends you spiraling, turn it off. If breaking news alerts drain your energy, silence them. Stop following doomer influencers or left-wing media outlets that profit from outrage-mongering. To borrow an exhausted but accurate phrase: this is a marathon, not a sprint. Take the time to process your anger, to feel the betrayal, to curse the failures that got us here. Be furious at the Democratic Party’s fecklessness. Be enraged at the indifference of Republican enablers. Allow yourself to mourn the election loss. But do not wallow. Do not linger in the abyss. Feel your anger, harness it, and then use it. Because we never truly processed the trauma of the first Trump presidency – like with COVID, we let it taper off without closure. Whatever you need to do to process the fact that Trump is in power again, do it, because...
Accept That This Is All Going to Suck
There will be worse weeks than this one in the next four years. Many will seek refuge in denial, pretending that the worst-case scenario is mere hyperbole. Do not indulge them. Reality, however grim, is better faced than avoided. When I lost my sister, I found that I actually felt better when I accepted that she was not coming back. I found that the alternative – resisting reality and trapping myself in an endless cycle of grief – actually caused more suffering. Once we embrace the truth, however, we can begin the path toward something new. This applies here, too: America will not be the same, nor is it lost. If we accept the darkness ahead, we can begin carving out the light. The only way through this is forward. This is going to be bad. And the sooner you accept that, the better you are prepared to fight.
Get Involved
Fighting doesn’t have to feel big. Start small. Do something that reminds you that you have agency, that you are not a passive observer of history but an active participant.
When Trump was first elected, I refused to wallow in misery. I joined my local Democratic club, handed out ballot proposals, and took an active role in shaping my community. That decision put me on the path to becoming a Democratic strategist and creating a successful YouTube channel. Starting locally is the most satisfying way to get involved, because politics are most responsive when they are local. Federal politics are sluggish and hard to break into without experience, but local activism can be swift and potent. Attend a city council meeting. Get involved in your local Democratic Party. Knock on doors for a local candidate or ballot initiative. Don’t just vent your frustration into the digital void – channel it into tangible change.
[...] Do not let Donald Trump eat your hope. He is not a king. The courts have already blocked his blatantly unconstitutional rollback of birthright citizenship. State governors are taking advantage of our federal system to prevent the rollback of rights and protections. Federal employees are pushing back against sweeping policy changes. We are only in week one, but this gives me hope.
Keith Edwards wrote in No Lies Detected on how to survive Tyrant Trump’s 2nd reign: don’t give up.
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PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/95aa7a0b8a5b6395f7e8abdbb9082936/2c6f0450bc965055-a6/s540x810/ddd35e07e5a98e7d853d1f21067603f6ada14ae7.jpg)
“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—
Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)
a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍
for @ohsweetmimosa !!
Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.
Until you met him.
There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.
You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.
“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.
“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.
He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.
You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.
You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.
Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.
Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.
“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.
“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.
“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.
“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.
Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.
Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.
He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.
Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.
When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.
It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.
“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.
“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.
“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.
“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.
“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.
“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.
“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.
“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.
He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.
Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.
“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.
“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.
“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.
“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.
The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.
Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.
“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.
His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.
“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”
Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jjk#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#fluff#bangtan#jeon jungkook#jeon jungguk#bts jk#jjk fanfic#blurb#fanfic#jjk x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeongguk#bts x reader#drabble#jjk fluff
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A night with Yuna x male reader
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Yuna, your affectionate girlfriend. She enjoys you in a way she can't even describe, it's just that it's her first time and she's a little insecure.
Yuna, your needy yet insecure girlfriend is cooking for you, cooking is one of her hobbies she loves the most. She's making dinner for you, a simple one, nothing fancy; yet she pours her heart in what she does.
You're in the bedroom, chilling out on your phone when you hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so you decide to get up and go to help her if she needed. Once you're in the kitchen you see her walking around the kitchen, grabbing whatever she needs to prepare the food while she sings softly.
"Hey, do you need help?" you ask
"OH!" she gasps suddenly
oh, my god y/n, you scared me.. please don't do it anymore..!
She sighs
"and yeah... I'd appreciate if you could help me my love"
You giggle, helping her cooking.
"you're kind for helping me.." she whispers softly
"just doing what I like, I like helping you sweetheart"
You both make food together, enjoying each other's company. Then, once the dinner is made you sit and eat. You two have quite a conversation that evening
"so, Yuna, have you done what I told you today?" you know already that she hasn't done anything you told her, but not common things like buying the milk.
"eum... I-I.. well.." she stammers "I-I..."
"you didn't, mh?" you say
She looks down. Feeling ashamed "no.. I didn't.." she whispers softly, her voice trembling and insecure
"I told you... everyday you wake up, you have to look in the mirror, stare directly into your eyes and repeat to yourself that you're worth everything, that you're loved and that you're making it through everything"
Yuna looks down in shame and sadness
"sorry.." she whispers
"don't say that" You decide to go next to her, you know how hard it is for her to do something like that and you're not going to give up on her that easily
"b-but I'm a disaster.. I can't even say a simple phrase"
You look directly in her eyes, yet your stare is soft and understanding. "Yuna..." You envelop her in your arms, a few tears roll down her cheeks
"No Yuna.. don't cry" you wipe away her tears with your thumb. "Here come with me" you grab her in your arms and carry her to the couch, you sit and she stays on top of you, sitting on your lap; with your arms wrapped around her.
She's not crying her heart out, she's just letting some tears go, the weight of her actual mental health weighing on her. "Yuna, you need to believe in yourself, just like I do, I do believe in you and you know it"
You kiss the top of her head softly, then, you look directly into her eyes. Her eyes are wet and a little swollen, making her look cuter than she usually looks
"look at this girl, it's so impossible to hate her"
She looks at you, then she looks away. She leans her ear on your heart, listening to your heartbeat. The sound soothes her aching soul as she sinks into a full state of calmness and relax
You let her hear your heart beating, knowing how much this affects her positively
"Can I ask you something, Yuna?"
"yes..?" she answers
"Have you ever thought about us?" you ask
"about... about us..? well yes, I did sometimes... why you ask?"
"just to know, you know that I often think about us, about you"
"and that's why I love you.." she say softly, leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft delicate peck
You cup her head kindly with your hands, holding her in place as you slowly deepen the kiss. In short time, the kiss is deepened, you both pouring your heart in it
Yuna snuggles her body into yours as you hold her head in such a loving way. The kiss keeps going, just that way, not deeper but not shallower. The love in the air is palpable, the affection you pour in her soul every single second of your existence healing her from inside. You softly break the kiss, looking at her, beautiful like always.
"I'm so in love with you.." she says
"and so am I, my love" you answer
It's like the time has stopped, you two look into each other's eyes while you're also holding her tiny form in your arms. But then you decide to act a little bolder and ask her "Yuna, what do you think.. are you ready to make love?"
She blushes furiously, not knowing what to say at first "n-now?"
"yea, now" you answer, caressing her hair
She looks at you, the most insecure, scared yet trustful gaze. She doesn't know what to say, if yes or no. She's never had it before. She's virgin, and the idea of having sex with you now scares her
"you're safe here, you know that? I'm not going to hurt you I know it's your first time".
She looks at you, insecure. She thinks for a while as you keep caressing her and hold her close to you, then she says "okay, I-I think I can do it.."
Her hands are shaking, you hold them and bring them to your chest, tranquilizing her.
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"you're sure, mh?"
She nods softly, snuggling into you. She trusts you but she's scared "will it hurt?" she asks, "it may hurt at the first penetration"
She sighs softly in anxiety "it's okay, I'm ready to have this with you"
So after only a few seconds, you start taking off her clothes, slowly removing her bra with just a hand, allowing you to admire her tiny perfect breast.
"I'm starting, okay?"
"o-okay.." she trembles, but she knows you're not going to hurt her
You lean in and start kissing around her breast, your kisses are soft and delicate. She trembles more and she holds you tighter, she feels hot flashes as her traumas, insecurities and fears kicks in, but she doesn't want you to stop, she wants to overcome everything she's endured.
You keep going, now licking her nipples carefully. You feel her trembling and breathing quite heavily, but you keep going knowing she's fighting so good.
"You're doing so good Yuna" you say, she smiles at you.
"Keep.. I kinda like it though" she answer, and so you keep going. You lick her breast a little more, while your hands are starting to roam lower on her body.
She starts to breathe slightly heavier than usual, letting few really soft moans as you keep. She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you closer, you can tell she's quite liking this.
"I think I'm ready for more" Yuna says, her voice just above a whisper.
"Are you?" you answer.
"Yes, I am.." She says. So after she confirmed, you lie her down on the bed, making sure she's comfortable with you. You take your space between her legs, lying down on your belly and covering her thighs with your arms. You slowly and kindly start licking her folds and as you do that Yuna can't help but let out a surprised and aroused gasp. She's still where she is, too shy and embarrassed to do anything.
You take her hands in yours, making sure she feels safe besides the pleasure you know she's feeling. You keep licking her folds carefully and expertly, knowing well how to move since this isn't your first time.
Yuna moans and she tightens her grip on your hands while you give her all that pleasure. "Oh my goodness I feel something.." she whimpers, you know what she's feeling even if she doesn't
"You're coming Yuna, it's alright. You're cumming"
She looks at you, even if she can't focus at all and tries to speak something "a-am.. I.. am I what..?"
She doesn't even get to finish her sentence that her juices are all already on your tongue.
She trembles hardly and almost screams as she comes, it's the first time she feels so good, this good. She's amazed from her orgasm.
She looks at you amazed "W-wow.." you look back at her, "you liked it?"
"I loved it" she answers.
"c-can I try to... to suck your dick...?" she asks with a slight trembling voice
You chuckle and caress her softly "of course you can sweetheart".
So as you allow her, she shyly kneels down in front of you, taking off your pants with your underwear. You would have never said she was shy and bold in the same time.
She looks at it in awe, it's big and hard and even if it's her first time, she knows it's because of her. She gets closer to your shaft, looking at you with her soft eyes. "Don't be afraid, do it" you say, while stroking her head gently.
So after few seconds of her staring at it in awe, she parts her lips and takes it in her mouth, slowly, only the head first.
You watch her doing her best, and considering it's her first time, she's doing an esteemed job. She keeps going, slowly and taking more of you in her mouth. Taking her time, taking things slow; and you let her, you won't force anything.
Little by little she sucks you completely. She's now doing an admirable job, taking you deeper in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down on your shaft, making you let out a soft moan of pleasure. She's happy she's doing a great job on her first time, taking a little more of you with each bob.
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"Yuna you're an absolute goddess, how can you be so talented and it's only your first time.." You moan, while she doesn't pull away from your cock, too content to do a blowjob to you like this. She bobs her head slightly faster now, her confidence growing more and more with each bob and second passing.
"Oh Yuna, yes so good.. keep going" you say, caressing her head and encouraging her to do more again. She takes a short break, maybe a second or 2 before getting back on your length.
As she resumes her blowjob, she goes a little deeper, not much, but enough to almost push you over the edge.
"Yuna, I'm close, get ready for it.." you whimper.
Yuna closes her eyes again, not knowing what she's going to have. Excited to find out, she keeps going, her eyes closed, her lips running on your cock.. and then the moment comes. You come in her mouth. Her eyes open wide and she stops there where she is, her lips on the head of your cock.. trying to pull out every last drop of your cum from your balls.
"Wow Yuna.. you certainly have a talent here.." you say, amazed from her skills.
She smiles at you shyly "T-thank you y/n" she looks at you happily "I'm glad I was good"
You smile at her back. "next time, we'll go ahead.."
She gets up and leans on you "okay" she says, happily.
...After that, you're both on the couch in each other's arms watching a movie together.
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When jjk characters call you “clingy” pt. 2
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, Geto, Toji
I’m sorry it took so long! I triiiied to make them as realistic as possible based off of their characters so pls don’t bite my head off if it’s not accurate omg it’s call fanfiction for a reason
Part 1 if you missed it!
Satoru Gojo
Guilt and shame filled his body after that little interaction. He didn’t even know where that behavior came from. All he knew was that it was a shameful thing to do. The meeting didn’t go well, and he took it out on you. He felt disgusting. Now all he can hear is the clanging of pots and pans along with the smell of a familiar dish.
His favorite meal.
It made his heart feel heavy. Here he is practically cursing at you and calling you ‘clingy’ while you’re in the kitchen cooking his favorite meal. You didn’t even have to, you could’ve made him order takeout for pulling a stunt like that. But you didn’t. And the fact that you didn’t, hurt him even more. Satoru stepped out of the shower and quickly put on some more comfortable clothes so he could go and apologize to you.
He walked out of your shared bedroom to only one plate by the table with food on it. He presumed it was his. But what he didn’t see was your plate. You both always ate together, “so why didn’t she place both plates on the table?” He thought to himself. He looked around to see where you had possibly gone. He turned to his left when he heard you sneeze. There you were, sitting on the balcony with a fluffy blanket over you, staring at the city before you.
He smiled softly as he admired you so snuggled up against the mini sofa. His eyes traveled to your face filled with sadness, you were sniffling as you wiped away excess tears. His smile dropped and it finally hit him as to why you didn’t set your plate at the table. He knew he had to make things right.
He made his way toward the sliding door, giving you an apologetic smile as he looked into your teary, red eyes. My poor baby.
“Hey, sweetheart,” He says softly and has a seat on the ottoman in front of you. “Hey,” Now it’s you who doesn’t greet him back with a pet name. He notices. “I looked on the table and noticed only one plate. Did you eat already?”
“Wasn’t hungry.” You mumbled. Satoru sighed quietly in response. He knew you didn’t want to eat with him. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” He started. “I’m so sorry for snapping at you and for calling you clingy. Today wasn’t the best day and for some stupid reason, I took that out on you. You didn’t deserve that, you were only just trying to help. It breaks my heart to see you this upset and have it be because of me. I'm so sorry my love.”
You took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t mean to annoy you,” Your bottom lip slightly quivering. He got up from the ottoman and sat down next to you. “Hey, no..baby,” He cooed as he scooped you up and placed you on his lap. “You could never annoy me, sweetheart. I love you so much and I never want you to think that I don’t.” He reassured as you softly cried in his chest. He then kissed your forehead and rubbed your back, repeating the phrases “I’m so sorry” and “I love you so much”.
Eventually, you calmed down and you both were just staring at the brightly lit city. “How’re ya feeling sweetheart? Feeling any better?” He tilted his head to the side to look at you, very comfortable in his lap. You nodded yes and he kissed you on your temple. “Would you like to eat dinner together?” You nodded in response. “Ok, good because I want us to eat dinner together.” He chuckled.
He knew that you were a bit sensitive, and it would take a few hours for your mood to change. So to make it up to you, he called off work and took you on a shopping spree the next day.
Suguru Geto
Suguru ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He knew he had to make things right, especially since you left everyone to run away with him too. Suguru put himself in your shoes for a second. You left your family and friends as well. He couldn’t imagine what you must be going through and it made his chest ache.
“Mr. Geto, where did Y/n go? We wanted to give her a present!” They ran up to him and Nanako opened her hands to show him a flower crown. “Do you think she’ll like it? She taught us how!” She softly asked. He looked at the gift they made and smiled softly. “Of course, she would love it.” he held his hand out for the gift. “It’s lovely, girls.” She giggled in response. “You should give it to her! We made it to cheer her up!”
“Cheer her up?” Suguru frowned. Did they hear your mini-argument? Did they see how you stormed off? He was confused. “Yeah! She seems a bit sad. When she took us to the mall today, she was super quiet.” Their response made him feel worse. “Let me talk to her.” He got up from his seat. Before he was able to walk back in, Mimiko tugged on his shirt. “Don’t forget our present!” She reminded him. “Of course, how could I forget?”
He knocked on the door to your shared bedroom and saw you wrapped up under the comforter. You back was facing the door so you didn’t see when he walked in. “Honey,” he softly said. “Can we talk?”
“So now you wanna talk? I thought I was bein’ clingy.” You scoffed and pulled the comforter over your head. You heard his footsteps get closer to where you were lying and felt a dip in the bed. “Y/n, I’m sorry angel. I’m just so frustrated with everything at the moment and I didn’t mean to say those things. It wasn’t my intention to yell at you, baby.” He said rubbing your thigh. You remained silent for a bit. “You know,” You removed the comforter from your face and sat up. “I left my family and friends too. We all did. I understand your frustration, but you aren’t the only one struggling, Sugu.”
“I know, I’m so sorry baby,” He pulled you into him and wiped your tears. “I couldn't be more glad that you came with me. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” You both sat in silence for a while.
“You make a great mother for the girls too. I see how they react to you. They love you so much.” He pointed out. “Really?” You sat up in amusement. “Of course! They even made you a gift,” He handed you the flower crown they made for you. “This is so sweet,” Tears began to well up in your eyes again. “They told me you taught them how to make it. You’re way better at this parenting think than I am. But I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” You smiled in response. “You gotta make it up to me though. You know that right?”
“Of course I do. Anything for my favorite person.”
Toji Fushiguro
Toji has never yelled at you before so it made you jump a bit. Your legs feeling like jello as you walk to baby Megumi’s room to see what was the matter. You wiped your tears from your cheeks before greeting the tiny baby. “Hey ‘gumi, what’s the matter?” You cooed as you picked him up from his crib. “Aw, were you awoken by the noise? It’s okay, my love.” You held him and checked his diaper just in case.
“It’s been a while since you last ate. How ‘bout we give you a bottle hm?” You prepared his bottle and sat with him in the rocking chair. You tested the bottle on your hand before feeding him. A few seconds passed and you heard heavy footsteps walk to the door. “Y/n,” Toji called out, not wanting to startle Megumi anymore. “Toji.”
He sighed at your choice of response. He knew he really fucked up if you resulted to being petty and giving one sentence responses. “Baby-”
“I’m not doing this with you right now. Not in front of him.” You interrupted him, placing Megumi to lean against your chest and burp him. You both waited for him to swiftly fall back asleep before addressing the slight tension between you two.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I was just-“
“Really frustrated?” You cut him off. “Don’t act like that baby. You know I’m not good at this whole..apologizing thing.” He scratched the back of his neck.
You said nothing.
“C’mere little girl,” he opened his bear arms and like a magnet you attached yourself to his big frame.
“If I ever yell at you like that again, take my gun and shoot me.”
TAG LIST: @hikachipsz @dontxevenxask @dianexo-v @chilichopsticks @koko-1025 @stevenknightmarc @ladyaggaga @satoreo @queenmimis @constawrites @satorugirlie @bluechocolatemint @teenagedreamlandstudent @dvc4 @yanjunify @ressespearlz @nxxun-blog @yinyinyinyinyinyin @honoredalone @iheartlinds @lwyourx
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dbf!Joel headcanons
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/49d916062b150d09c0df6bdc0cee3964/a7d65f11ebe75341-c8/s540x810/6a017aa10d659bf8f10f0310e804b17c2c56ab59.jpg)
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warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)
note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!
He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it
Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation
He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you
When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them
He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much
He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you
He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you
He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s
When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him
He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately
He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him
When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true
Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep
He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger
During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable
It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you
He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him
Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.
The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.
He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good
He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want
When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel
He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour
He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night
As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close
He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone
He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech
#joel miller x reader#mine#my writing#joel miller game#joel miller#joel miller x you#the last of us part 1#tlou1#joel miller x y/n#dbf!joel#dbf!joel x reader#joel miller headcanons#Joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters
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Feels
You've always done your best to drill into Toji's head that if he ever needs to have a heart to heart with you, you're there. He pushes his more vulnerable emotions down for you because he fears that if you ever see him break down, you'll be scared. Scared of possibly not being able to console him, scared that he'll break things, just scared in the worst ways possible.
Toji keeping it in works out for him anyway, because the man lives to protect your feelings. Your feelings are more than enough for him, even if he teases you for how emotional you are sometimes. He knows you're delicate, and you crumble at things that would be brushed off so easily by him, but that's not to say that he is asking you to modify yourself to make things easier on him. He's a big boy, he can handle hurricanes.
Toji invited you to spend the night at his apartment, bribing you with words that jumped out at you in his messages.
Movie night? My place?
You read the message over and over again for a good minute or so. Your heart started its usual routine of overworking itself, and you cursed yourself mentally for being such a lovesick fool for Toji. You loved the feeling that came with receiving a text from him first. He was looking for you, he was thinking about you, and from what you understood, he wanted to see you.
What's in it for me?
He chuckles behind his screen. You're an unintentional flirt, and it's amusing to him because it's the recurring reason for why you often find yourself wondering how you ended up with just his sheets wrapped around your body. You lack awareness in terms of how you phrase things, and Toji eats it up like a five course meal.
Time with your man. What else could you want?
Snacks, blankets, cuddles, xyz.
You bringing all that stuff with you?
Joking babe. I'll have that all here for you. Just come already.
Fine i'll be there in 10 <3
—
Toji could hear your car as you pulled up outside. He had everything set up on his coffee table. He would never tell you that he paid attention to the minor details of this setup. Maybe it would turn you off to hear that he unwrinkled a corner on a bag of chips, or that he squished the pillows so that they had more shape to them.
You knock, not having enough time to look around the area before the door opens. You're greeted by those devestatingly green eyes, a soft grin on his face when you smile at him. You throw your arms around his neck, causing him to stumble back at the force of your body in your momentum. He chuckles, sneaking a hand behind you to shut the door as you bombard him with kisses all over his face.
"Doll... do-..." you cut him off with your intoxicatingly sweet kisses. He can't help but smile at the feeling. "Doll," he calls, finally snapping you out of your romantic assault.
"Whoops." You laugh, a bright hue forming on your cheeks. "Just... happy to be here, I guess."
"I can tell. You almost ran us into the coffee table."
You take a step back to look at what he laid out for your movie night. It's precious, absolutely treasurable. He remembered your favorite chip brand and flavor, he remembered that you like juice more than soda. Up until now, you didn't know if behind those hunter eyes he actually made an effort to remember you.
"I'm choosing the movie," you say, putting your hand on his bicep.
"Ha, you thought I was gonna fight you on that?"
A smile creeps onto your lips again. "Your house, your rules, no?"
He sighs, remembering the time he said that to you when you proposed that he should get a dog. You insisted and insisted but he didn't want a dog, so as a last resort, he said it. You deflated towards him for a little, but eventually he made you laugh and the hard feelings were blown away.
"Just choose the movie, brat." He flicks your forehead before settling on the couch. Your brows furrow as you rub the stinging area, your expression quickly lifting again when you go to join him.
The snacks were opened before you even decided on a movie. They were looking irresistible, and they are your favorites for a reason.
"Mm... does this one look good?" You turn over to Toji, chewing on a mouthful of crunchy chips.
"Swallow your damn food before you speak." He cracks when you stick your tongue out, chunky and pureed chips sticking to it. "You're so gross."
"We've established that, already," you say, giggling. You turn back to the TV, leaving Toji to ponder your response.
"I'm just gonna scroll through all of these for three seconds and whatever it lands on, we watch. Cool?"
"Whatever you want, babe."
You nod, and do a countdown.
3... scroll... 2... scroll... 1... scroll
"This is it. Get comfortable," you say as if he's not in his own home. "Do you have to pee?"
"Nah, princess." He grins at your question.
"Alriiight," you say, excitedly, before playing the movie.
—
It was a pretty good movie. It was funny, there was romance, and it had a really good cast. You got to a good part in the movie, where the main characters, who are in love, reach dramatic turmoil. The conflict was a choice that the woman had to make. It was between the woman leaving the country for the next three years to make a life for herself, or staying behind with the love of her life, unable to give him everything he wants and more. She was fiercely independent, which was heavily weighing her decision.
You teared up at the dialogue. Both characters were reaching for each other, waiting for the other to say 'I can't be without you' or 'i'll follow you wherever you go'. The result was heartbreaking. The woman left the country, not even stopping by the man's house to say goodbye. She blocked his number and cut off all contact with him, leaving him a total mess.
"What the fuck..." you hear from beside you. You turn to Toji, and when you notice his sparkling eyes, you pause the movie.
"Oh, baby," you coo. His eyes mirror yours, glossy and full of emotional damage. He doesn't give you this rare sight for long. He uses his knuckles to dry his eyes before looking at you again. "You okay?" You brush his cheek.
He takes your hand and puts it to his lips, before using it to pull you closer to him. "Tell me you would never consider pulling something like that," he murmurs between you and him. His face is nose distance away from yours, so you try to pull back. He keeps a firm grip on your hand, holding you there with him.
You use your other hand to hold his face. "I'm not her. I wouldn't do that, Toji. I'm always within your reach." You give him a soft smile, pressing your forehead to his. "Just call and text me all day, or you know, when you miss me. You know, I'll be waiting for it, anyway." You chuckle, gently kissing his face all over again.
He catches your lips with his and pushes you down onto the couch. You don't mind that he's crushing you. Nothing is more important than making him believe that you're not going anywhere, and if that means he has to hold you down with his weight, so be it.
You realized that that movie scene must have resonated somewhere deep within Toji if it managed to bring tears to his eyes. And for that to be followed by a question that didn't sound like him at all... it just made your heart even softer for him.
His hands touch the warm skin beneath your shirt, while keeping the slow steady synchronization of his lips with yours. His hands don't wander to your erogenous zones. Instead, he keeps them on your stomach where he can feel the rise and fall of your breathing. He breaks the kiss, looking at you for a mere two seconds before burying his face into your chest, another area where he can feel you breathing. If he focuses hard enough, your heartbeat will reach his ears, inevitably forcing his to sync with it.
You decide not to say anything else. There's nothing else you could say to the man finding comfort in just being attached to you. You play with his hair, and focus on how fast your heart is beating in your ears, and he sighs because deep down he's hoping you'll stay true to your word. He can't see this happening with anyone else after you.
#toji fluff#toji x y/n#toji x you#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#dilf toji#jjk x y/n#jjk fic#jjk scenarios#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#toji fanfic#toji fic#fanfic#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji#toji angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst
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PG | KTH
Title: PG
Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff
Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.
But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.
Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 11,521
Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM
A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!
A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.
Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*
“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.
It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.
Well.
Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.
Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.
Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.
Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.
Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.
For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.
Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.
And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.
Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.
Every time you could get it.
Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.
For four years.
And then the university swim team.
For another four.
Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.
The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.
It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.
Thank god for sunglasses.
“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.
Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?
Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.
Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.
This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.
It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.
As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.
“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”
“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”
You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.
You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.
Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.
With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.
You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.
You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.
But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.
Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.
Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.
You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.
You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.
Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.
He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.
Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.
It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.
Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.
They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.
And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.
This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.
Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.
He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.
“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”
Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.
He should dunk his head again.
You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.
“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”
Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.
But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.
“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.
And it works like a charm.
Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.
Scratch that.
Definitely not.
“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.
Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”
“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”
No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.
He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.
“I’ll think about it—Fair?”
You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”
“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.
Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.
By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.
“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.
Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.
“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”
“Sounds good. What about tonight?”
Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”
Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”
Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.
He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.
“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”
You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.
“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.
“—What—”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.
“—Hey wait a seco—”
Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.
“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.
He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.
“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.
“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”
“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.
You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.
“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”
Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”
You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.
“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”
“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”
You pause. Eyeing him directly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.
As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.
“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.
“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.
You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.
And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.
It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.
Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.
This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.
She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.
Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.
That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.
You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?
But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.
Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.
He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.
So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.
Son of a b—
“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.
You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.
“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.
Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.
You need to get off the dance floor.
Now.
Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.
Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.
The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.
Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.
He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.
They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.
His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.
No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.
He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.
He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.
He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.
And yet.
Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.
All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.
He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.
But you push him away.
He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.
Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.
But he won’t.
Can’t.
All because of his darling best friend.
Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.
You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.
So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!
He has to stop thinking about you like this.
But that only makes him want you more.
It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.
You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.
But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.
He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.
He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.
So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.
Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.
That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.
And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.
Because Fourteen isn't here.
And old habits die hard.
“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.
“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”
The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.
A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.
Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.
Safe.
You’re safe.
Exhale.
“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.
Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.
“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.
How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?
You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.
“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”
And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.
This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.
The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.
It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.
Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.
You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.
“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”
Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”
You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.
The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.
Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.
Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.
It’s private.
It’s safe.
You’re safe.
You’re safe.
He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”
The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.
“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.
“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.
He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.
You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.
“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.
Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.
You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.
But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.
“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”
You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.
“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.
Oh you are so fucked.
“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.
“...Yeah...”
“I see.”
“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?
Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”
Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.
The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.
My Girl.
My Girl.
You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.
Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,
“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”
The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.
Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.
You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.
Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.
He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.
Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.
“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.
You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.
“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.
The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.
They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.
“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.
More of him.
“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.
You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.
“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.
“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.
“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.
It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.
His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.
The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.
No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.
He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.
“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.
It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.
“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.
But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.
With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.
He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”
“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.
It makes you smile wickedly.
“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.
“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.
Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.
“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.
Yet.
“Can you behave for that long?”
You smirk.
Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.
Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.
You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.
True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.
You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.
The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.
His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.
It���s not helping and completely helping at the same time.
Fuck.
Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.
Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.
To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.
Mesmerizing.
Just like the man locking his door behind you.
A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.
He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.
You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.
He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.
You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.
One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.
You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.
His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.
Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.
The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.
You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.
It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.
It hasn’t been one sided.
He wants you.
Taehyung.
Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.
Wants you.
You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.
“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.
“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”
The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.
He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.
At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.
His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.
“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.
He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.
His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.
You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.
Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.
“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.
And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.
You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.
Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.
“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”
You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.
He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.
He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.
“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.
He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.
Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.
Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.
He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.
Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.
“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”
Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.
“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”
Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.
“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”
He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.
“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”
He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”
Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.
Blissful.
Then pushes back in, methodically.
Torturous.
Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.
Inevitable.
Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.
Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.
One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.
You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.
Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.
“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.
“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.
“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.
And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.
“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.
“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.
It’s a great move but it’s exerting.
You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.
He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.
He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.
You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.
Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.
It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.
Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.
It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.
“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.
All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.
Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.
He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.
Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.
Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.
You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.
Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.
“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.
Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.
Before consequences kick in and regrets form.
When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.
Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.
He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.
Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.
You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.
Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”
But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.
You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.
“All of it. Any of it.”
There.
Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.
You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—
“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”
You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.
You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.
“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.
“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.
It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.
The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.
You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.
A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.
An idea strikes.
Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.
You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.
Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.
A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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#taehyung#kim taehyung#v#bts v#bts taehyung#bts kim taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#v smut#bts smut#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x oc#kim taehyung x reader#kim taehyung x you#kim taehyung x y/n#kim taehyung x oc#v x you#v x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#taehyung fanfic#taehyung imagine#bts x reader#bts x y/n#taehyung scenarios#PGos#Yoon writes
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Sage hear me out...
Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy
art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.
he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.
sigh.
when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.
“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.
“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.
he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.
and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.
“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”
he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”
the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.
“can i… can i please have you now?”
a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.
“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.
“you’re forgetting something, Art.”
it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.
“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”
the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”
“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“
his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.
“what do you want?”
god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.
but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.
there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).
but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.
“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”
you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.
you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.
you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.
“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.
art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.
you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.
you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers—letting them wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.
his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.
he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.
“please, mommy”
“come in my mouth, mommy”
“give it all to me, mommy”
“i can take it, mommy”
you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?
he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.
and holy fuck, you come hard.
a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.
“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”
you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.
but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.
“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.
he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.
your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.
you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.
“so good, baby..”
art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.
he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.
something that he’s earnestly dying to say.
something that he knows you deserve to hear.
“thank you.”
#🌸 - ask prompts#💌 - mutuals#WHOOAA i wrote too much#but angelll ???#ooh my god i’m srry this is late by a couple days but good god i’m eating it up#i love the concept of domming older men#like yea fuck u i own u old man ! now open ur wallet and gimme 20 bucks !#(and then the old man in question is like only 40)#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson fic
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looks can be misleading II Beth Mead x Vivianne Miedema x Reader
masterlist I word count: 1928
a/n: the inspiration for this oneshot came from this adorable request here.
Playing for Arsenal had always been your dream, even as a little child. But now that you were actually here, at the Arsenal Training Centre, reality looked much different. You hated everything.
From the way the other players stared at you, taking in your tattooed arms when you were first introduced to team to the fact that they never seemed to shut up and kept yelling at each other.
As a person who liked it quiet and to keep to herself, it was all too much, too loud. Your social battery had been empty before the warm-up was even over.
So while your new teammates stayed on the training pitch, chatting away, you headed for the shower. Maybe if you were fast enough, you had a few quiet moments to yourself.
You could even be done before the others joined. You walked with quick, impatient steps towards the dressing room, missing the conversation right behind you.
“What do you guys think about the new girl?”, Leah asked the others, genuine curiosity in her voice.
Kim shrugged with a small smile: “I like that she doesn’t talk much.“
“Of course you do.“, Lia laughed, bumping her arm against the smaller midfielders.
“Hey!“, Kim protested.
Laura chimed in, the sweetest smile on her lips: “I like her. She’s so mysterious and her tattoos are cool.“
Katie eyed the young Austrian like she just said the most stupid thing she ever heard: “Nah, I think she’s a bit weird, ye know?”
“I think I agree. She didn’t even say hello when Jonas introduced her.“, Leah stated.
Beth who had been listening quietly, assured her teammates: “We’ll tell you how she’s with us at home.“
“Good luck with her.“, Manu grinned at her.“You know, I’ve gathered quite some experience with quiet, broody women.“ She inconspicuously nodded towards her girlfriend.
With a frown, Vivianne turned to her: “Wait, are you talking about me?”
“Who else would I be talking about, babe?”
Viv rolled her eyes with clear fondness for girlfriend: “Time to go home. Bye, guys.“
“Bye.“, their teammates echoed in unison.
Beth and Vivianne were the ones that you would stay with until your own flat was ready to move in. If that meant days or weeks, who knew.
At least their apartment was close to the training centre and you had their guest room to yourself.
Sitting on your bed, you enjoyed being in your own company for a moment. A very short moment as you came to realize.
“Y/n? Do you want to come down and cook dinner with us?”, Beths called for you, her voice echoing from the walls and you wondered if the neighbours had heard her too.
You didn’t want to. But you also didn’t want to seem impolite so you joined them in their kitchen.
“I’m not great at cooking…“, you admitted.
“No problem, we can do this together.”, Beth assured you with an encouraging smile.
“Okay, sure.”, you shrugged.
“It’s easy.”, Viv added.
“Yes, you can start with cutting some veggies.”, her girlfriend advised you in an uplifting tone.
While you did as she said the Dutch woman cleared her throat nervously. “How did you like your first training session y/n?”
“Good.”, you answered monosyllabically as you focused on cutting the vegetables in front of you.
“And how do you like London? Do you have any family close by?”, Beth wanted to know curiously.
“I haven’t seen enough of the city yet to say if I like it and no, my family isn’t from here.”, you revealed. From the way you phrased your answer it was clear that you preferred to not talk about your familiar relations.
“Oh.”, the blonde muttered surprised.
The rest of the cooking and dinner passed uneventfully. During the dinner Beth tried to get you to talk a little bit more, but that turned out to be unsuccessful.
“I’m going to bed, good night you two.”, you announced once you were done with eating.
“Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.”, the English forward chirmed. She watched you leaving the kitchen with a loud sigh.
“She’s truly intimidating, Beth.”, Viv whispered when you were out of ear-sight. An amused twinkle was in her light eyes.
“Even you think so?”, Beth chuckled, resting the head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.
Reluctantly the Dutch player put an arm around the smaller woman. For a moment she paused before admitting thoughtfully. “No, I think what she really needs is time, it’s not easy to be the new girl in the team.”
“You would know, huh?”, the English forward gave her a teasing smile.
“Yes, I do actually.”, Viv acknowledged, pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s blonde hairline.
In the past she had quite often confessed that the beginning of her Arsenal career was quite tough for her.
As a young foreign girl who already had made herself known in the national team the Dutch forward had to accustomed to a new country, different playing style and a fresh pressure which came with playing for such a big club.
“We’ll see.”, Beth answered hoping her girlfriend was right about you.
“Morning y/n.”, she greeted you warmly the next morning, next to her the young dog was already bouncing excitedly.
“Morning.”, you mumbled suppressing a yawn. It was clear for everyone that you were in desperate need of some caffeine.
“We’re taking Myle on a walk. Would you like to come with us? We can get coffee or something.”, the blonde offered smiling friendly.
“Uhm okay.”
“You don’t have to, obviously.”, Viv added quickly.
“No, I do.”, you smiled shily at them.
The couple seemed happy that you accepted their offer. You all shrugged on jackets and left for a stroll around the neighbourhood.
Beth and Viv walked slightly in front of you, politely giving you your own space while Beth kept talking and Vivianne just listened. You were perfectly fine just taking everything in and watching Myles’ floppy ears bounce with every step. You could feel a smile tug on the corner of your mouth.
When you reached the coffee shop, you offered to wait outside with Myle. Patiently, you sat at a table outside and rubbed your hands together. It was an unusually cold morning. Even the little dog at your feet seemed to shiver slightly in the cold air, despite the thick brown fur.
“Come here.“, you mumbled to yourself as you gently pulled Myle onto your lap, in hopes that your body warmth would help. She immediately curled up on your lap and let you pet her.
“Your puppy is really cute.“, you said softly as your two teammates reemerged from the coffee shop, steaming cups in their hands.
Beths’ face lit up as soon as she saw you two together: “Oh, looks like she likes you already.“
Myle lifted her head as if she was listening attentively.
You could feel your cheeks heating up: “She was getting cold so I warmed her…“
“That’s sweet of you. You like milk and sugar with your coffee, right?”, Beth smiled and pushed a cup of coffee towards you.
You gratefully reached for it, wrapping your hands around the warm drink. “I do. How did you get that?”
“I was hoping for the best. It was either that or black coffee.“, Beth laughed as she took the chair next to yours.
You sipped on your coffee and smiled: “Not bad.“
“Oh, so she can smile!”, Beth exclaimed happily.
You grimaced, slightly embarrassed.
"This is your and Myles' achievement, Beth.”, Vivianne told her girlfriend.
Beth laughed again and you had to admit, you could actually get used to that sound. “I think Myle deserved the majority of the credit.“
“She’s just so cute.“, you mumbled as you looked down at the puppy on your lap.
“Yes, she is.“, Beth agreed, her eyes wandering from Myle to your face.
There was something intense in her gaze and it made you immediately feel insecure, the blush creeping back into your cheeks, so you set the little dog down and got up from your seat, indicating that you would like to continue your walk. “Let’s go.“
Even though you were in London for almost a week now, you still preferred to run your laps away from others in training. You couldn’t focus on yourself when everyone kept talking. Besides, you didn’t care much for the gossip anyway that was so willingly shared during the warm-up.
As you ran by yourself, you didn’t hear any of the conversation Beth was having with her teammates on the other side of the pitch.
“Wait, are you serious, Beth? Are you still talking about her over here.“, Leah asked as she jogged alongside her teammate. She subtly nodded in your general direction.
“Leah! Of course I’m talking about her. She’s such a sweetheart once you get to know her.“
“One could think you’ve a crush on her, Beffy.”, Steph teased the friend grinning.
“I mean.”, the English forward run her free hand nervously through her blonde hair.
“Stephs not wrong here.”, Alessia commented with a cheeky smile.
“She’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”, Beth turned her head to look at her girlfriend, searching for the confirmation she needed.
“No, I do.”, Viv agreed.
“Well, this is going to be interesting.”, Kim remarked with a meaningful glance toward the couple.
The piece of their talk you did hear left you almost speechless. “Wait, what?”, you interrupted them stunned.
“Oh, y/n.”, Beth sighed softly.
“I forgot my cleats I’ll be right back.”, you lied, you were desperate to get out of this uncomfortable situation as quick as possible.
“Shit.”, the Dutch forward cursed under her breath. There was a mutual understanding between Viv and her lover that didn’t need words, so they quietly followed you into the changing room.
“Y/n? If you feel more at ease not living at our home your place is ready.”, the younger of the two offered heavy heartedly.
“Yeah, I’ll move out.”, you decided unable to look into their sad eyes.
“Sorry, for our teammates talk from earlier.”, Beth apologized biting her lip guiltily.
“Beth, Viv, stop.”, you demanded.
“We’ll leave.”, Viv nodded.
“No, I want to tell you something,. I like you two .. like a lot.”, you confessed it took all your bravery to say these words out loud.
You know your looks could be misleading, they made you appear tough: your muscles and tattoos were like your armour against a world which hasn’t always treated you with the kindness you and everyone really deserved.
But you were tired of being alone and the two women showed you a way to break out of the loneliness.
“We like you two.”, the Dutch woman assured you earnestly.
“Y/n, what are you trying to say?”, the blonde asked confused by the turn this discussion took.
“I don’t know what I’m trying to say, that’s the problem.”, you admitted.
“That’s okay.”, Beth replied.
“I guess thanks for everything. I’ll get my stuff later.”, you smiled sadly at them.
“Actually, Viv paused a second before continuing, you could stay with us.”
“Really? To be honest I’d like to stay at your home.”, you looked up surprised.
“Our home.”, Viv corrected you as Beth pulled you into a tight group hug.
“We got to keep her.”, the blonde hummed happily.
“Beth, I’m not Myle!”, you protested.
“No, but you’re just as cute.”, she answered giving you a kiss to your cheek which immediately turned red.
Despite the banter these two and the dog were the closet thing you had to call home.
#beth mead x vivianne miedema x reader#vivianne miedema#beth mead#arsenal wfc#awfc#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community#woso#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#leah williamson#kim little#lia walti#alessia russo#katie mccabe#woso oneshot#woso one shot#beth mead x reader#vivianne miedema x reader
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For anyone who wants to write fanfics or comics, ect about characters from Louisiana (Gambit, alastor, ect.) with accuracy to Louisiana and any French we speak here.
⚜️There's a lot of information after the phrases just an FYI ⚜️ I add a few things that I forgot about.
Common phrases used in Louisiana are:
Sha
(pronounced like it's spelled) this is a gender neutral term used for all ages, it's a friendly term used to address someone, most people use it for everyone. Inflections and sentences can change it to be more familial or romantic but it's often just used when addressing someone else. A lot of people use this term and say it for everyone they meet. This is used to replace cher and cheri, no one uses cher and cheri ever, have never heard a single person in Louisiana use those terms in my entire life.)(commonly said at the beginning or end of a sentence when addressing someone also typically accompanied my 'oh' or 'mais/man'
Examples :"oh sha, can you grab me that bottle right there." " How you been sha" "man sha, you seen what that man did over there" "oh mais sha, eat, you must be starving"
beaucoup
(boo•coo) very much, plenty/ plentiful, very, much, an exuberant/ large amount of something. Each of these can be used it just depends on the context, it is often used in 'thank you' or in jest or exasperation to emphasize that someone has a large amount of something. Sometimes people also use it in a jesting manner to make fun of how little someone has when they are trying to pretend like it's a lot. Extremely common to hear in New Orleans slightly less use in the rest of the state but is still used often. Commonly said as "beaucoup much" (younger generation born late 90s to present mainly use this one) or by itself
Examples: "did you see the amount of bread loafs that guy had in his buggie, he had beaucoup things of bread"
Merci also "merci beaucoup" or "beaucoup merci"
(mer•see) thank you, thank you very much, plenty thanks, very thanks. Still widely used across Louisiana rather commonly. Not everyone says it but it's just a personal preference, the people that do use it often still say thank you in English from time to time, they just also like using these terms as well. These phrases are also used for everyone it doesn't need to be reserved for special times/ people.
Example: " merci, have a nice day" kinda self explanatory
Adieu
(a•doo) kinda like goodbye I think I've heard a some people say it but it's definitely not the most common. They said it in place of good bye so I've just always assumed that's what it meant.
Petite
(pa•teet) small, little, tiny. This is already used in the English language show I don't really have to explain it much but it is commonly used among Cajuns and other Louisianaians to address a person affectionately especially when you add another word behind it. Sometimes people will say "mon petite ___" or "petite ____" sometimes shortcutted to "te" sometimes just say patite if it's an nickname the additional thing will most likely be in French and be something that the person likes or enjoys. I've rarely heard it used otherwise unless talking about clothing.
Examples: my grandmothers used to call me "Mon petite papillon" (my tiny butterfly) and "petite minou" (small kitty) because one grandmother's favorite animal was a butterfly and the other's is a cat.
Nanny and parrin
(nan•ee) (pah•ra) god mother and god father, most people call them by these terms so if you here someone from Louisiana talk about their nanny they don't mean someone their parents hired to look after them they mean their god mother.
Couyon
(coo•yaw) fool or idiot. Typically used in rather jest or scolding but typically when joking around. More common in Cajun areas than New Orleans. Sometimes if someone does something foolish especially after being told not to or is just being really clumsy or acting stupid/ rude then people will just call them couyon and walk away or laugh at them.
Example: " will you stop acting like a couyon? We need to get a move on."
Mais
(mah) but . See Sha for example of use mainly used with Sha .
Allons also "allons dan ser"
(ah•law) (ah•law don say) let's go and the phrase commonly used with it is "let's go dancing" more Cajun area use then New Orleans.
Beb also bébé
(pronounced like it's spelled) babe or baby also typically used in a neutral manner when talking to people, can be used for anyone but is most commonly used among family or close friends especially for people younger than you. Can also be used in a romantic connotation like babe or baby usually it is generally affectionate no matter how it's used. Can be used for strangers typically said by women but men do say it.
Example: "bébé can you go to the kitchen and get me a soda"
Just please please don't use cher or cheri no one says that around here it's almost always specific nicknames rather of things the person talking likes or the person listening likes. Please see petite for example.
Gambit is likely to say card related nicknames since he likes gambling, I know a few people who like playing cards who call people things like king and queen quite often as well as like 'my heart', 'little diamond'
In French those would be "reine" (Queen) or "dame" (lady/ queen) , "roi" (king) , "Mon cœur" (my heart/my core), " petite diamant" (little diamond)
For Alastor I'm not sure that there's anything radio related that people would use, my family has been in the radio business for a while and I've never heard any from any of my family members or my parents. He is likely to use deer related ones especially if they are puns.
Examples: " Mon biche" (feminine) or "Mon cerf" (masculine) (both mean my deer) , and "petite biche" (fem) or "petit cerf" (masc) (both mean little deer). He also likes music and that would be more like "Mon musique" (my music).
Any of these can just be said in English not every nick name or pet name is said in French.
Everyone is different so some people throw in more French some people less, nowadays people don't really speak fluent French unless they're old or rich.
Gambit was raised in a cult basically so he does get somewhat of a pass to speak more French if you want him to but it's not super common in New Orleans.
Alastor would have spoken French being from 1920s but being a radio host he probably would have also learned English and went through vocal training to get rid of his accent. ( My family has been in the Louisiana radio business for decades and they all had to train to get rid of their Cajun accents when they started working for the radio stations) Also Alastor is creole not Cajun I will explain the difference more towards the end.
If you want to add the characters speaking French you can just use Parisian French (French spoken in France) no one is gonna be upset if you do there are also no translators on the internet that I know of that have Cajun or Creole (Canadian is also acceptable if your Canadian or know Canadian)
There are a lot of different accents in Louisiana not just Cajun (called flat talk by locals most of the time) .
Some people speak with southern accents, some have Cajun but most talk like stereotypical Americans or have an accent that comes along with speaking AAVE.
Creole accents are like French and Jamaican accents combined it's pretty rare for people to have the accent nowadays though and for some people it can be slightly different
You don't have to write out accents if you don't want to.
Which leads to my next point most people in Louisiana speak in AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) especially closer to and in New Orleans.
The farther away from the 1930s-1940s the character(s) are the less French they will naturally speak and put into everyday encounters. Most people in present day Louisiana especially in areas like New Orleans don't speak French and only add in what few words they do know or are still within common use in day to day conversations.
After this point it is random facts about Louisiana ⬇️
Why did people stop speaking French in Louisiana after this specific period of time?
Great question, the answer is that there had been a law put in place at the time, that declared that everyone had to learn English as it was assigned as the official language of the United States. From what I've been told by my grandparents the law makers cited that they wanted Louisiana to be more welcoming to tourists and the large incoming crowd of refugees and migrants as the reason for the law being inacted.
My grandparents stated that it was probably so that the refugee and migrant crowds wouldn't isolate themselves to only people who spoke their languages. In order to keep unsavory groups from forming (if there were any n@zis among the German crowd, other axis power supporters among the Italians or Japan's crowds as well) they forced everyone to learn English.
I don't actually know what this law was but my grandparents have talked about it since I was little. They were forced to learn English when they hit elementary school and my great grandparents were forced to learn English or possibly lose their jobs, in some cases they were threatened with arrest or their children getting taken away.
This created fear that caused parents to decide to stop teaching their kids French. When my parents were born my grandparents barely taught them any French and mainly taught them English. Rarely anyone in my parents generation could speak or understand full French.
Some parents didn't want to teach their children French only for them to never be able to speak it outside the house.
I also have a feeling that this law was also partially put in place because of Quebec, Canada as they fought for their right to keep speaking French and threatened to become their own country if forced to conform to English like the rest of Canada. So the U.S. was probably trying to stop that from happening with Louisiana.
Also New Orleans has been regularly speaking English since before the rest of Louisiana was mandated to, because it is a port and always has been. It's also been a high tourism area for quite a while as well.
What is the difference between Cajun and Creole ?
Creole means French or Spanish settlers that came directly from the "motherland" (France or Spain) originally this term was more or less used to establish elite status as most of these people were from rich families and paid a lot of money to secure their position in the new colonies belonging to France the term was extended to the Spanish when they had control over Louisiana.
This term eventually came to blanket over slaves and their descendents as well that were under the control of these people, the current Creole culture was mainly shaped by these families as well as the families of Haitian slaves and their descendents that were also brought into Louisiana to serve the Creole people.
This is where voodoo and hoodoo become a part of creole culture because the enslaved persons brought their culture and religion with them from Africa to Haiti and then to Louisiana when they were forced to change location again.
Creole people lived mainly in New Orleans and the surrounding area, most of them owned farmland slightly farther out from the city but lived in the city center while things were tended to by enslaved persons and a person or persons designated to watch over their daily activities
Creoles didn't just enslave Africans they also enslaved impoverished European using manipulation tactics, most of these Europeans became freed people before African Americans and at some point we're given their own slaves which kept them from revolting surprisingly but in surprisingly. Creoles enslaved Cajuns when they first got to Louisiana by order of the king and then freed them when they realized they knew how to farm but gave them their own enslaved persons.
Most Creoles now are African Americans and lead an intricate culture different from Cajun culture that is mainly a mix of French and various African cultures with a little bit of Spanish culture as well.
Creole food and Cajun food aren't too different but some Cajun food has okra bases as to where creole dishes have a tomato base for most dishes as it was an over abundant resource of the New Orleans area.
Cajun people are from a French group of settlers that were originally supposed to create their own nation in Nova Scotia, Canada. They were a bunch of farmers sent there for the purpose of creating an agricultural specific nation using Canadian soil and plants.
Their county was called Acadia and they were called the Acadian people, they technically were not ruled by the king of France and were their own nation, this in fact caused problems especially because they were a young nation and were composed of farmers with no military or combat training and little to no weapons.
With no support from the king or way to form their own military, England forced them to pledge allegiance to rather the king of England or the king of France so they knew where Acadia stood, Acadia asked for help from France, France refused because they were their own nation and they didn't want to pledge allegiance to the king of England
So in true English fashion they burned the nation of Acadia to the ground and forced the Acadian people to leave, the Acadians went to Louisiana in hopes that they would help, the Creoles enslaved them and stuck them where they believed the land was uninhabitable and they would perish because of the order of the king of France
The Acadians being farmers were able to pick up on how to properly farm the land after being shown by natives (my tribe yay) and when the Creoles checked on them and found them alive the king of France made them free people's and gave them land from Acadiana, their new area of living in Louisiana to the what is now the lafourche parish area.
They were given enslaved persons and were put in charge of helping make Louisiana's exports a larger market. Cajun culture and dishes come from a mixture of Acadian, native American and African culture put together with the resources of the area, these dishes spread to the Creoles and were changed to match the resources of the New Orleans area and imported goods.
Cajuns are called Cajuns because the English misheard the name Acadian and so everyone started calling them Cajuns.
Cajun and Creole today doesn't nearly have as many connotations as the past, it mainly just means your family is from this Acadiana area or from New Orleans and you're a descendent of one of these groups
Do Cajuns and Creoles have beef with each other?
Nope, any beefing is mainly joking, and is specifically about the differences in the same dishes between the two cultures.
Does it matter if someone is Cajun or Creole?
Once again nope, Louisiana is a big mixing pot of cultures so no one really cares, everyone loves celebrating the different cultures in Louisiana especially of the newer groups that have joined over the decades through immigration.
I only specified with Alastor because I've seen people call him Cajun when vivzy has stated multiple times that he's Creole.
Enough about Cajuns here's some info on Mardi Gras:
Mardi Gras is one day at the end of the carnival season.
It's on a different day each year because it is a Catholic holiday and goes by the Catholic calendar which changes every year.
Mardi Gras means "fat Tuesday" which is the Catholic holiday the day before ash Wednesday which is a day of fasting and sobriety.
You don't have to be Catholic to celebrate.
Even though it's a Catholic holiday all of the parades are based on Greek and Egyptian mythology
The carnival season is different every year and lasts between 1-2 months before Mardi Gras day, Brazil has a similar celebration at the same time called carnival as well for the same reason.
The carnival season is typically in January- February or March.
All bars close at midnight on Mardi Gras day once it hits ash Wednesday and very few of them are open on ash Wednesday later in the day.
There are family friendly Mardi Gras parades which are most of them and specific parades for adults, typically at night, please don't flash your boobs that's illegal and makes people uncomfortable, the adult parades mean that they might give out alcohol and beads or other float throws that will contain adult symbols like marijuana or nudity. Some of these they throw things like purses and shoes and that's why it's classified as adult.
Anyone can join the parade even people not from New Orleans you just have to pay a fee for whichever parade you want to be in to secure a spot on a float and buy the beads and stuff that you throw, some parade you have to have a specific amount of items, to be allowed on the float
Some people go to other parades to get beads and other stuff for them to throw at their own parades (my family does this with the radio station vans lol)
People on floats throw beads, plushies, party favors, hand clappers, cups, dablooms , recorders and other plastic instruments, bouncy balls, other types of balls, inflatables, candy, chips , ramen, hair clips, plastic swords and plastic tomahawks
Most of the balls for specific parades are closed events for people on the committee but there are masquerade and non masquerade balls and parties held across the city throughout the carnival season, there is even one specifically for Neuro divergent people.
There is a kink parade, that is called "southern decadence" it is a gay pride parade that focuses on sex, kinks, drag burlesque and finding people to hook up with this happens typically around august. If you tell people your going to a gay pride parade they will side eye you because they assume it's this one and not the family friendly ones that happen in June.
The only other parades outside of carnival season and pride are a Christmas parade (krampus), a Halloween parade and st Patrick's Day parade (Irish and Italian American heritage parade)
A king cake is basically a cinnamon roll log that doesn't get cut into individual cinnamon rolls and gets formed into a ring and baked then has vanilla icing with colored sugar on top. There is a baby inside but if you pre order it you can ask for the baby to be put on the side or not included at all. The baby means you buy the next king cake and you will have luck.
It's encouraged to wear costumes to parades but you don't have to, it does get you more beads.
Have a bag or something to put your beads in if you wear them throughout the parade it will be painful and it will get you less stuff thrown at you.
Other random things about Louisiana I think are important:
It's warm throughout the year because this is a sub tropical area, in the summer it is constantly between 89°-115° please don't put characters in long sleeves or tons of layers in the summer.
It rains a lot like 50% of the year it rains
Not every part of Louisiana is swamp
There is no deep woods of massive swamps in the middle of the city of New Orleans, there are a few in the surrounding area but those are an hour -hour and a half out of your way by car at minimum
Hoodoo is magic , voodoo is a religion they are connected but not the same thing not everyone that practices voodoo practices hoodoo and vice versa. PLEASE DON'T MESS WITH THESE RELIGIOUS OR MAGICAL ARTIFACTS WITHOUT SOME WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF IT OR CONSENT/ PERMISSIONS, PLEASE FOLLOW THE RULES IN THE SHOPS.
There are also many practicing pagans and wiccans in New Orleans same rules apply.
Yes there are second lines (marching bands for parties) constantly going through the city but most of them are for funerals don't join them unless you're told you can.
Most people from Louisiana have pretty bad seasonal allergies
There is way more to the city of New Orleans then the French quarter, the French quarter is only like 10 streets
We have a ferry that goes from Algiers (west bank New Orleans) to New Orleans proper (east bank, actually main part to the city) it lets out at the aquarium. There is another one that goes from Algiers to Chalmette (part of the greater New Orleans area)
The greater New Orleans area is the area around New Orleans where most of the people that work and hangout in New Orleans actually live, this includes Jefferson parish and st. Bernard parish. There is still a high population of people who live in the city itself.
Baton Rouge is the capital of Louisiana it is about an hour and a half west of New Orleans by car
People go to Grand Isle, Louisiana or to Biloxi, Mississippi to go to the beach
There is a water park outside of Baton Rouge called blue bayou that's really popular the other water park in the area is Jellystone but most people call it yogi bear because it's a yogi bear theme park
Fairs happen in Louisiana between May - June and then again in September - October
Around Christmas most parks have Christmas lights displays that you can drive or walk through or Christmas villages
People actually play jazz music on street corners in New Orleans, it's not every street corner and most of them are concentrated to being closer to the French quarter
Most bars have a mixture of live music and a dj more upscale places with stick to jazz but most other places have rock, hip hop, r&b, rap and bounce, closer to Lafayette they play zydeco more often then jazz
Louisiana is the state with the second highest gambling rate behind Nevada, there are multiple casinos in Louisiana and even private gambling clubs that you have to know someone to get into
Street cars are like busses on set rails, basically an above ground subway system. You have to pay a fee to ride and can find out the various paths that these take through the RTA (New Orleans public transportation) system or station
You can get electrocuted if you stand on the street car rails if the street car is close by and not stopped, if you see one coming towards you get off of the rails so you don't get hit it takes a little while to stop the car.
Hurricane season begins in May and ends at the beginning of November
People in New Orleans keep pet chickens and some of them just let them roam the neighborhood. So it's not uncommon to see a chicken walking around in a residential neighborhood
Some people in Louisiana have houses raised on stilts because of flooding, their are stairs to get to the house (I've had tourists ask me about this before that's why I'm mentioning it)
Yes we can tell when you're a tourist it's pretty obvious (typically it's because they try to hard to fit in or they wear beads outside of Mardi Gras and get drunk at 12 pm)
New Orleans is the largest city in Louisiana
You will find many different cultures in Louisiana not just Cajuns and Creoles because of immigration, these cultures are all very much celebrated in Louisiana
The most common non English languages spoken in New Orleans are Spanish, Vietnamese and Arabic as currently.
Here's some food from Louisiana:
A quarter of New Orleans (not the French quarter) smells like coffee because of the community coffee plant and during certain times of the year with strong winds the whole city smells like coffee
We eat red beans and rice on Monday's to honor deceased enslaved persons as they would typically eat red beans and rice once a week because they were only allowed to eat protein once a week. Not everyone knows that, I learned about this from Whitney plantation they might have information about it on their website. Not everyone eats red beans and rice every Monday or only on Monday's that's just tradition.
For creole version remember to add tomatoes
Seasoning blend is onions, red bell pepper, celery, parsley, and garlic
Jambalaya:
A dish where you cook down meat and seasoning blend and seasonings, typically the meat is chicken and sausage together then add rice and water into the pot and cook until rice is soft.
Sometimes people add cubed pork or beef, peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish, or other left over meats they have on hand.
Gumbo
A thinned brown stew with seasoning blend, at least chicken and sausage and seasonings, served over rice with fíle (a ground sassafras seasoning)
Other meats included peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish , deshelled or soft shell crab, and oysters
Cajuns sometimes add smothered okra Creoles typically add stewed / smothered tomatoes, I've seen some people add both it's up to preferences and family recipes.
Often served with potato salad
Étouffée
Peeled shrimp or peeled crawfish, seasoning and seasoning blend served in a cream shellfish flavored gravy served over rice
Sauce Piquante
Chicken, shrimp or catfish stewed in a mixture of seasoning blend, seasoning, Rotel , crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes and tomato sauce, served over rice
One of few dishes that have no changes between Cajun and Creole recipes
Boudin
Rice dressing in a sausage casing, typically steamed or smoked
Cracklins
Extra crispy fried pork skins with some meat still attached covered in spices
Po-boy
Warm deli meats or fried seafood, sometimes in gravy on French bread (not baguettes) with mayo, lettuce and tomatoes
Sometimes has cheese, pickles or mustard typically left to customer preference on this one
Beignet
Square fried donuts covered in powdered sugar
Typically eaten with coffee, tea, hot chocolate or chocolate milk
King cakes
Cinnamon roll log made into a ring formation with vanilla icing and colored sugar on top, has a baby inside that means you buy the next king cake if you get it and good luck
Can have different fillings
Seasonal to January through March
Natchitoches meat pie
Pie dough filled with ground beef or crawfish baked into a hand held pie.
Sorry that this is so much information I hope this is helpful for people who want to write about characters from Louisiana.
Hope this helps @lifes-line sorry it's so long.
#deadpool and wolverine gambit#x men gambit#gambit#remy labeau#fanfiction#xmen fanfiction#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#I'm sorry it's so long that is my b
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗚𝗥𝗪𝗠 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗'𝗦 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦
𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x fashion influencer!reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a fashion influencer and makes a GRWM only with her boyfriend's, Matt, clothes.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by @matthewsspecial
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/N²: I used the queen of brazilian GRWM, Lele Burnier, as an inspiration for the way that Y/N would produce her content in here. I'll leave the link to one of her tiktoks just so you can have an idea of what I imagined, even though Lele speaks in Portuguese in it.
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"Hellooooo." Y/N spoke, slightly bent forward facing the screen of her phone, with her hands raised while moving her fingers in a "bye bye" gesture. Her voice slightly thinned due to the excitement she felt to record that content, while a fluffy white robe covered her body. "You asked a lot for a GRWM with Matt's clothes after the Truth or Eat video on the triplets' channel, and I, as always your favorite fashion influencer, decided to do it!"
The girl was in her own closet, which was in a small room in the house next to her shared room with Matt. As soon as Y/N moved into the triplets' house about a year ago, it was decided that that space would be her personal space to record her content, and she turned it into a large closet, filled with clothes, shoes and bags, all of all sizes, colors, models and brands.
Additionally, Y/N decided to include two pink puffs in the corner with a small bookshelf full of books and magazines, so when she wanted a moment to herself, she could stay there. Although she never used the puffs alone, she was always accompanied by Matt or Nick to read or just talk. The boys loved that corner, they always said it had an incredible vibe.
"Today we're not going to use any of the items behind me, I went to Matt's closet and got some options from there." Y/N explained, momentarily pointing to the amount of clothes behind her, before picking up two hangers with pants. "As you already know, we're going to start at the bottom." The girl said smiling, slightly shaking her hands in excitement.
"Here we have two pants, since they make up 90% of my boyfriend's closet." She paused as she rolled her eyes playfully. "One is a baggy jeans with these details as if it was sewn fabric on top of fabric." The girl lifted the jeans in her right hand, bringing it closer to the camera. "And the other is a pair of basic black sweatpants from Fresh Love." She lowered her right hand and raised her left, bringing the hanger closer to the camera.
Y/N paused dramatically as she looked at the two pieces before completely lowering the hanger with the sweatpants and holding the one with the jeans in the air.
"I think we can all agree that jeans wins, right? Sorry, Chris." She smiled at the camera.
Y/N left the sweatpants hanger aside, taking the jeans off their respective hanger and throwing it to the side, keeping them folded in half in her hands.
She quickly grabbed two still-folded t-shirt options and placed them in the front of the jeans.
"Now, for the shirts, we also have two options. Both would be good since they are basic. One is a black t-shirt that Matt bought personalized with Matt + Liam written." Y/N pointed with her index finger on top of the respective t-shirt while holding back a laugh at Matt's photos mixed with Liam's. "And the second one is a navy blue baby look with just a white phrase on the front." She did the same with the baby look, her mind reminding her of the last time Matt wore it, making her cheeks take on a red color, she loved it when her boyfriend used it.
The girl paused for a second, looking at the camera thoughtfully.
"I think we'll wear the t-shirt, I don't know if this baby look would look very good with these jeans because of the waistband." Y/N commented, looking at the pieces briefly.
The video cut to her already dressed in the two pieces.
"For the feet, I thought a lot between my basic black Converse or my black and white Samba, and it's obvious that the Samba won." She spoke while gesturing with her right hand, her left hand busy holding her chosen pair of sneakers. "You know my love for Adidas Samba."
Again the video cut to her with the complete look.
"Now, to give that final touch, we just arrange the t-shirt so that it goes better with the jeans." Y/N spoke as she turned sideways to the camera and tucked the back of her t-shirt into her jeans, so that the front was in a V.
"Finally, it's obvious that accessories couldn't be missing, right?" The girl smiled, turning around and taking one of the small wooden boxes from her closet, opening it and placing the lid on the floor quickly, before moving her fingers through the jewelry there. "I think this outfit calls for silver accessories, mainly because it only has black and white in it." Y/N spoke as she selected a pair of earrings and some necklaces, bracelets, and rings.
The video cut to the girl already decked out in all her jewelry except her earrings.
"Okay, I like where this is going." Y/N spoke to the camera as she buttoned her earrings into her ears, smiling as she finished, showing off her ears quickly.
"I guess we can put on a purse, hm? It's pretty raw around here." Y/N suggested as she gestured her hands across her upper body. "I like this one." The girl quickly turned around and fished one of her purses from the closet.
She turned back to the camera and showed her black Diesel shoulder bag, the brand's logo in silver, and the strap on a silver chain. The girl held the bottom of the bag with her right hand while doing jazz hands for it with her left hand, showing the piece.
Y/N put the purse on her shoulder and took some steps back to show the whole outfit for the camera, before stopping and looking at the front screen of her phone thoughtfully, analyzing her look through it.
"I think there's something missing." She murmured, placing her index finger on her chin as she thought. "I know what it is, come with me." The girl smiled, taking her cell and walking out of the closet, opening the door to her shared room with Matt slowly, entering the space.
"Hi baby, did you finished reco- Wow." Matt's voice sounded in the background, stopping mid-sentence as he analyzed his girlfriend wearing his own clothes.
"Hi baby, not yet." Y/N responded with a smirk, walking to Matt's closet, her phone camera catching the boy lying on the bed behind the girl, his own phone with an open game already forgotten next to him as his blue eyes traveled over her body.
Y/N opened the closet and ran her fingers through the caps there, taking out a completely black New Era one, with just the brand's symbol in white on the front.
She turned around, still holding her cell in her right hand, while her left hand held the chosen accessory.
"Thank you for lending it baby." Y/N said jokingly, blowing Matt an air kiss before leaving the room and heading back to her closet.
The video cut to the girl in front of the camera completely ready, right hand on her waist as her lips stretched into a smile.
"Final look!" She hummed, making a full turn before stopping again, approaching the camera. "I didn't put on makeup because we're not going out and I wanted to do a GRWM focused on Matt's clothes, but I can do a video with makeup that matches this look, I'm thinking that a red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics that I have here would look amazing." Y/N commented, making the chief kiss gesture at the end of the sentence.
"I didn't think this outfit would look as good as it did, but it turned out super cool, and I hope you loved it as much as I did!" The girl smiled, blowing a kiss to the camera.
The video cut again, Y/N was now in her shared room with Matt again, facing her bed and with her phone in her hands, the rear camera pointed at Matt who was looking at her with a goofy smile and passionate eyes.
"From 0 to 10, how much do you give for this outfit made up entirely of your clothes? Minus the shoes." The girl asked from behind her phone.
"100/10, it looks really great, you can take all my clothes for yourself, they look much better on you than on me." The boy said, moving on the bed until he reached his girlfriend, his arms wrapping around her waist before pulling her onto the mattress.
Y/N let out a scream of surprise followed by a loud laugh, the camera becoming completely blurry due to her sudden movements.
"We're going out to dinner, I won't let you waste all this beauty." Matt spoke against the girl's lips and that was the last thing the camera recorded, before the video ended.
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request:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/db15deb9bd0444b1ad1a27bf2950716f/8f4ce0b6fcde9914-8f/s540x810/4fe1a70237746c4052924c335cf92fb06c47631b.jpg)
#x reader#chris sturniolo#fanfic#matt sturniolo#fanfiction#love#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#imagine#matt sturniolo x yn#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt au#matt fanfic#matt x reader#matt#matt sturniolo x you#grwm#lele burnier#tiktok#youtuber#sturniolo triplets#fashion incluencer
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currently OBSESSED with your blog. Everything you post is FIRE. HEAR ME OUT, ok, imagine being like hella subby/timid and Miguel LOVES it but is also trying to help you use your voice, say what you want, GET YOU TO TAKE CHARGE A LIL and your all shy and cute and it just makes him want to fuck you THAT MUCH HARDER
nsfw mdni!
you're absolutely right anon, he'd love it and he'd also tease you RELENTLESSLY about it- taking advantage of the fact that you wouldn't speak up, so desperately trying to help you achieve the opposite- to be open with him and not feel the need to hide anything from him,
he'd always say shit like "R'you tired, baby? Already?" as if this wasn't the third time he was fucking you, and you'd just mewl in reply, turning your head to bury your face deeper in your pillow
one night you end up with your back against the mattress, moaning and whimpering at the way Miguel eats you out like a starved man- groaning into your pussy as he licks everything you have to offer, lapping quickly at your folds.
you can feel you're close as you arch your back, unconsciously moving further away from him- and he grabs your thighs to pull you closer, clicking his tongue, "Oh baby.. Can't handle what I give you?"
you huff, "I can." and he just chuckles, his chin glistening, "Really."
"Then tell me what you want- I'll stop if you don't." he's thrown that one phrase in a LOT, always 'threatening' to stop making you feel good in order for you to speak up more- but you'd never budged and he in turn wouldn't stop either, because he couldn't. This time, though, he actually keeps his promise when you don't reply to him, and you're baffled as you watch him walk out of the room, leaving you panting on the bed.
you were so close to cumming, and he just left you there. You get up quickly to follow him out the room, rolling your eyes when you see him casually sitting on the couch, legs spread and all, and you come to stand right in front of him, blocking his view of the tv. His eyes betray him as always, and you try not to squirm at the way he stares at your body, licking his lips as he eyes you up and down,
"Something you need, querida?"
you've never actually asked Miguel for anything- only replying with small 'yes's whenever he'd ask you if you wanted more- if you wanted him to do this or that.
"I want your mouth on my pussy," you ignore the way your voice trembles as you talk, stubbornly standing your ground. Miguel grins, tongue running over his fangs before he scoots over, "Lay back,"
"No."
"No?"
"You lay back. I wanna sit on your face." the way his eyebrows shoot up is almost comical, but then he's groaning, grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards him, and you gasp as you situate yourself in his lap clumsily. He kisses you hard- tongue rolling over your own, as you begin to grind your hips on him, loving the way his boxers feel against your bare pussy.
You run your hand up to rub at his pecs before you're pushing him down, and he chuckles breathlessly as he falls back, "Kitty finally got claws, huh?"
For some reason that pisses you off even more because you murmur, "Shut up," then you're suddenly climbing over his chest, hovering right above his mouth, and he can't keep his eyes off your pretty pussy- practically drooling at the sight,
after that it's like everything's changed- seeing miguel beg, hearing him whine for your pussy like you always do for his cock, changed how you viewed sex in general- and now you're the one asking to go for a second- third round, and he's the one laying down on the bed, sweat running down his temple as he pants hard, "Just give me a second baby, shit-" but you don't listen to him- too cockdrunk to do so- so you just straddle him again, taking his cock in your hands, loving the way he jumps from how overstimulated he is,
He grunts from underneath you, his hands squeezing your hips as he throws his head back in exasperation when you slip his cock back inside you, "h my Godddd, this pussy's too tight- I can't-"
and you pout at him, "What's the matter, baby? Can't handle what I give you?" and right at that moment, Miguel thinks he's created a monster
think this got way off topic, no? so sorry if it did
also thank you so much for your kind words 🥹 <3333
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The Slam
Summary: Ari has had a enough of your TikTok foolishness...
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, Prank Foolishness, References to P in V sex, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Now that you’ve gotten your first TikTok prank under your belt, you found you needed more. It was as if a beast – for lack of better phrasing – had been awoken inside of you. And it demanded that you served the world chaos.
At your man’s expense.
While you’d gone a little bigger the first time around, today you’d decided to dial it back just a touch. Lately you’d been watching videos of women slamming their boyfriend’s and husband’s car door after what seemed to be the most innocent of conversations.
In retaliation, some of them yelled confused obscenities, or honked horns, others simply appeared content to stew in whatever resentment had already been brewing beneath the surface.
Regardless, almost all of them were funny. And not only that, but you got the distinct feeling that Ari wouldn’t appreciate it. His truck was precious to him.
Almost as precious as you.
This morning you choose to test your luck when Ari is kind enough to drop you by your place so that you can switch out purses and grab your makeup bag before heading out for lunch. You can tell that he doesn’t fully understand the reason you need either of those things.
In fact, when you told him what you needed, he’d been swift to grunt something to the effect of how you already looked “perfectly good to him as it was”. And although it had made the butterflies in your belly do their special little flutter that was reserved for when you received compliments just from him, you pushed him to make the stop anyway.
In part because you needed those things, but also because you wanted to fuck with him a bit.
“I promise I’ll be super quick.” You tell him, hastily undoing your seatbelt as he pulls up in your driveway.
“Still don’t get why you needed to come here.” Your bounty hunter was hungry, and therefore also a little grumpy. “You’re already the prettiest little thing I’ve ever set my eyes on without all the extra froufrou shit.”
“You would really have me walk into a restaurant with you with a bare face?”
“Baby, real talk, I’d be proud to have you on my arm if you were wearing nothing but a paper bag.” Comes his quiet, but sincere rebuttal.
It’s enough to make you melt.
“You’re sweet.”
“Uh huh.” He huffs, throwing his truck in park. “And women are weird. Besides, all that makeup looks better on my pillow anyway.”
“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to call us weird. Could’ve sworn you were supposed to be intrigued by the feminine mystique.” You tell him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.
“Weird.” Ari huffs again, clearly not moved by your response.
“Mystique – you jerk.” Feeling slightly miffed, you decide to steal a sip of his water.
“Can you please just go get the bag and war paint before I waste away from hunger?” You bat his hand away when he leans forward to open your door and usher you out his vehicle. “My stomach is literally trying to eat itself and you wanna fuckin’ argue.”
“I am capable of opening it myself, thank you very much.” You hiss without any real heat before grabbing the handle.
“Then I would very much appreciate it if you did that so we can get this show on the road.”
“Okay, okay.” You finally relent. “I’m sorry. Gimme a kiss and I’ll go–”
Ari’s mouth is on yours so fast it’s almost comical. He cups your face with calloused hands, stroking his thumbs across your temples as he does. But unfortunately, just as you’re about to sink into the kiss, he pulls away.
“Now get.” He growls, before opening the door and effectively shooing you out.
“Fine.” Climbing out of his truck, you decide that this is your moment. “Be right back.” Closing your eyes, you give it up to the Lord before slamming Ari’s door hard.
Actually a little harder than you intended. Ah, well.
Grimacing, you begin to half walk, half run for your front door. After all, there was such a thing as being too brave for this world. And you’d actually felt his vehicle rattle with the force with which you’d put behind it. There was no way this man would not respond. There was no way–
“Aye!” Your shoulders automatically hunch of their own volition when you hear him throw open his own door in protest. You haven’t even made it to the front porch. ”The hell was that about?”
“What?” You try to play dumb.
“Bird. Stop.”
It’s the calm authority in his voice that has you freezing in your tracks. It’s the same reason your panties are soaked too. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you turn around and face Ari.
“What–”
“I’m gonna need you to walk your pretty little ass back over here, baby.” He quirks a tawny brow when your legs don’t immediately start moving. “Now.”
“Beast, I need to go inside and–”
“Ass. Here. Now. Please.” Ari tacks on the last word when he sees you frown. However, the frown stays in place as you march back over to where he’s standing, or now leaning, against the side of his truck.
“Thank you.” He grunts before cupping your cheek, drawing you forward. “Now, is there a reason you’re out here slammin’ my shit and spikin’ my blood pressure? Does this have somethin’ to do with that whole feminine mystique business again?”
As he talks, you find it hard to resist the urge to run your fingers through his newly shorn beard. You’d hung out in the bathroom with him this morning while he trimmed it, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his shirts.
“No.” You breathe, your nostrils flaring when that same hand moves, gently lacing itself around your throat.
“You pissed at me for somethin’?” His electric blue eyes search yours for answers.
“Um…nope.”
“You tryin’ to pick a fight?”
“Also no.” You tell him as your hand comes up to wrap around his thick wrist. “It was a joke I saw on TikTok and–.”
“Christ, I’m gonna stop you.” Ari blinks twice before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Since you and I don’t have a problem, I’m gonna let you go inside and fetch your things. You have five minutes, or I’m comin’ in after you.”
“To do what?” You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. Sometimes this man really had no sense of humor. “Because I‘m gonna need more time than that to put on my face.”
The look this man gives you lets you know that you are absolutely trying his patience – every last piece of it.
“You got five minutes.” Ari repeats, his thumb stroking over your pulse point. “Or I’m gonna come in there and personally take my time making sure all that makeup ends up in its proper place where it belongs.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“Neither is subjecting me to shit you see on that damned hickory dickory dock crap you watch all the time, and yet here we are.” He leans down to brush his lips against your forehead. “Now go.”
Ari finally releases you before pulling out his phone, and it takes him only a second for him to show it to you, letting you see that he’s started a timer. And it is quickly counting down.
“You got five minutes, sweetheart.” He winks at you then, before breaking into full blown laughter when you turn to make a break for your front door. “Otherwise I’m comin’ in after you, and it’s gonna be what it’s gonna be.”
Forget the purse. You decide you’re better off snagging the makeup and beating it back to the truck before the timer strikes zero.
“Bastard.” You grumble under your breath – which only makes him laugh harder.
“You just lost yourself thirty seconds for that one. Better run, Bird.”
END
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Teasing and Loving
Eris Vanserra x Reader
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Summary: smut, Eris being a simp, smut, emotional talk, smut
wc: 2,8k
warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, trying for a baby (hinted at), oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, no beta
a/n: technically it was part of the How to be a High Lady series but it works better as a one shot imo
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"Love?" Eris called out to her, pushing her office door far enough to fit his head in, at her nod he let himself in, closing the door behind him. "A letter arrived from Winter." He gently set the letter on her table, away from the other papers scattered around the place.
"Oh, what did they want?" She looked up from the book she was studying, catching the amused grin he tried to hide.
"I don't know, it's for you." He slid the letter closer to her as if to make a point.
"Ah, I'm still getting used to receiving letters like this..." She felt slightly embarrassed but brushed it off, she closed the book carefully and placed it aside before picking up the letter. Eris had made his way around her table and was leaning against it by her side, watching her every move.
"Hello, fellow High Lady! I was hoping we could spend some girl's time together, perhaps while our males discuss some court business, let them handle all the work for a while, now that we are allies, they ought to be friends too. So, what do you say? We could meet here in Winter and I could show you the wonders we have, or, you could show me what Autumn has been hiding all these years, Kal and I have always wanted to visit Autumn, the few hours we get to spend there for the meetings do not do it justice, that I'm sure of.
Eagerly waiting for your response,
Your fellow High Lady, Viviane."
"Viviane is asking if I want to spend some 'girl's time' with her," she giggled, "And I think Kallias finally crowned her High Lady." She showed Eris the letter, pointing to the first and last phrases.
"About time," Eris uttered, "Was starting to think he didn't have it in him."
"Eris." She gave him a pointed look. Sometimes his old self would come up, a natural response, they were both working on it.
"Habit, sorry." He smiled at her, faking innocence but quickly erupted into laughter, making her join him. It was so weird for him not having to insult someone at any opportunity encountered, that when he did, out of nowhere, it was funny.
"You're so stupid." She said, stomach cramping from how hard she was laughing.
"Darling, you marry this stupid, deal with it." Eris sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair trying to compose himself. "So, will you?"
"Yes, it's been way too long since I've had a girl's time." She started searching for some paper so she could write back to Viviane.
"Not to sound insecure or anything but... what exactly do you females do on your 'girl's time'?"
"Just girly things, males and our sex life, you know," she responded nonchalantly, "Last time I had one, one of my friends had even reenacted some scenes..." Eris' face at that moment was something she'd paid to see again. His eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head, his cheeks flushed redder than she'd ever seen before, his mouth was hanging open and he looked like a fish when he trying to talk.
"Relax, Eris! I'm just joking." She laughed, her belly protesting. She saw through watery eyes the moment Eris regained his composure, his smirk gave her a hint that they had a long night ahead.
Two big hands pulled her body up, making her squeal and laugh even harder. Eris picked her up and turned them both so he was now sitting on her chair, his lips kissed her neck while his hands found the ticklish spots around her body.
"You think you can fuck with me and not be punished for it, little witch?" His voice was rough with lust, her laughter died down and turned into soft moans.
"Careful, I might reenact what you'll do next with Viviane..." A hand smacked her cheek, the warm feeling of the scalding fire that ran through his veins made her shiver with goosebumps, the whisper of his slender fingers running up her spine only making her tremble harder. The effect Eris had on her was insane.
"Don't you dare. Not the time to play, love." He bit her shoulder. She nodded, knowing Eris wouldn't actually be mad at her for misbehaving, but he would be stressed, and while he'd never act like his father, an stressed Eris was more sad than anything, and she hated that. He was done being used and beaten, the stress he endured all these centuries was enough to mess with his head so hard that now he could barely bear feeling stressed.
She nodded against his neck, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. In response, he tugged her closer to him, his fingers finally working on the buttons of her dress, pulling apart and setting her down on her desk to take their clothes off.
When Eris was done unbuttoning his shirt, her hands found his muscular chest, pushing him back, signaling for him to sit. She quickly got down on her knees, Eris purposely slipped the fabric of her dress where her knees would meet the floor, making sure they wouldn't hurt so much. Her fingers worked on the strings of his trousers, when they slipped inside the waistband, Eris lifted his hips for her to slip them out, his briefs following suit, during their undressing, Eris had also taken his boots off.
Her hands danced around his torso and tights, lightly scratching his skin, her fingers followed his happy trail before touching his cock, squeezing him the way he liked while running her hand up and down. His warm fingers caressed her arms, encouraging her to keep the pace.
After he was completely hard, she started licking his tip, running her tongue against the underside, slowly going down and licking the whole expanse of his member. His quiet sights and humming making her skin tingle, leaning away from him she admired her artwork, the way his skin was redder in certain spots, his breath was ragged even with so little action, his eyelids almost fully closed and his hair the same messy hair she saw at home. His vulnerability came with a messy version of Eris that would make anyone question if it was really him, his usually perfect styled hair seemed to have never seen a hairbrush, his enviable posture sometimes slumpy.
"Don't stop..." He whined, his head lolled from one side to another.
Taking pity on him, she brought her mouth back down, taking as much of him as she could, bobbing her head slowly, taking him deeper everytime she went down until her nose was pressed against him.
"Gods... What did I do to deserve you?" Eris mumbled, when she looked up, his eyes were fully closed and his mouth had formed a pleased smile.
Eris wasn't really into blowjobs, at least not like the other males she knew, he'd never refuse it of course, but he wasn't one to ask for it. She never asked and Eris never said anything, but she had an inkling that it might have something to do with his father, the way he viewed and treated females, Eris was bound to have heard and, perhaps, seen some disgusting things.
Her mate's hand gently cradled her head, not moving her, just holding. His hips twitched every time her mouth fully enveloped him, she noticed how much effort he was putting into not thrusting up.
"You can fuck my mouth if you want." Her voice was raspy and breathless when she spoke, immediately going back to sucking on him, paying special attention to his tip. His eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, mouth opened in a silent moan, the muscular thighs under her finger tensed. Suddenly Eris was pushing her head away and yanking her up into his lap.
"For someone who claims to hate teasing, you're doing it way too well, sweetheart." His hands slipped through her hair until he had a good hold of the back of her head, he pushed her closer to his mouth, just enough that she could touch him if she stuck her tongue out, when she tried to lean in for a kiss, he pulled at her hair. He laughed at her pout and gave a mocking peck to her bottom lip, a mere brush that could never be called a kiss.
"You're mean, you know that?" She pushed at his chest, not exactly trying to push him away, all her strength went to keeping her smile at bay.
"But my love... someone needs to take that seriousness off your pretty face."
"You just say that because you can't be serious around me, I smell envy..." She sniffled jokingly, the only scent that filled her nose was arousal, the musk smell of Eris and the slick coating her thighs.
Eris giggled, throwing his head back, one of his hands left her waist to rest at his abdomen, his body convulsing with soft laughter. None of the males she met before laughed like that, in fact, she wasn't sure if they ever truly laughed. Eris, despite his upbringing, knew how to have a good laugh.
"Oh Gods... I couldn't have asked for a better mate." His head was still thrown back, if the sight of his body slumped in her chair didn't say anything, his relaxed smile sure did. "Kiss me." The hand that remained on her waist ran up to her cheek, "Kiss me." He repeated, bringing her head closer. "Drown me with the taste of you." Their tongues danced. "Make me forget how to breathe without your hands on me." Her hips lifted enough to take him inside her warm cunt, the feeling making them both groan. "My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours, take my mind too. My every thought is yours, everything I think is formulated with your face in my mind, everything I plan is thinking of you and us, our future, our family..."
Their heartbeats synchronized, their mouths dancing, the rhythm of her hips rocking their bodies, their chests collided with rapid breaths, hands here and there squeezing and feeling. "Eris–"
"Yes! Yes, yes, please!" His hands went back to her hips, helping her bounce on top of him, her head dropped to his shoulder, nodding.
Eris gasped, as pleasure threatened to push him off the edge, he braced an arm on her waist and lifted himself off her chair, his unoccupied hand pushed the paper off the desk, he'll help reorganize them later. Feeling the kisses she planted on his neck, combined with her sigh of pleasure when he slipped her down his cock, almost made his knees buckle.
He set her down onto the desk, curving an arm under her head, giving her time to adjust to the new position before he started to thrust, his forehead resting on hers, their breaths fanning each others faces.
Her hands ran the whole expanse of Eris' back, encouraging him to thrust into her, each snap of his hip against hers threatening to push her off the desk, the arm he slung under her head being the only thing keeping her from doing so. The intensity of having sex with Eris never failed to amaze her, she wasn't sure if it was because he was her mate, or if it was really just in his nature to be intense, probably both. Due his accidental edging, Eris already felt close to cuming, the fact that she kept squeezing him didn't help, he was sure she was doing it on purpose, brat, he really taught her well. He couldn't stop his hips from stuttering so he just stopped, resting his cock fully inside her, his head dropping to her chest to suck on her perky nipples, trying to pretend it was all in purpose, unfortunately for him, it didn't foul her. Her soft giggles filled his ears, both her hands moving to his head, running her fingers through his wild red hair.
"Have I already told you I love your messy hair?"
Eris pulled back from her breast to look at her, a expressionof shock on his face before a breath burst out of him, "My hair is not messy, love." He answered while giggling, thinking she was joking. She only rolled her eyes in response, moving her hips against his, Eris' mouth feel open, his eyes slammed shut.
"Close already?" She smiled up at him, knowing too well the effect she had on him. Her legs moved so she had a firm grip of him, now being able to move her hips better, squeezing his cock whenever he was pushed deep inside her.
"Keep doing that–" His words were cut off by a groan, "And I'll cum before you." Eris' whole body trembled.
"It's okay." She pulled his head closer to hers, nuzzling his nose before initiating a kiss. She doubled her efforts to make him cum, moving her hips harder and faster, licking into his mouth like an starved female.
Eris groaned, his body tensed, his knees buckled, his arms gave up and he fell fully against her, she could feel his thighs shaking and a hot liquid filling her cunt. She felt every spurt of cum, his cock throbbing, the way that even when he was finished he was still hard. As soon as he regained control of his legs, he trusted slowly into her, pushing his cum as deep as he could.
When he came down from his high, Eris pulled back from her mouth, not once had she stopped kissing him, his eyes roamed through her beautiful body, his hands squeezing her breasts and stomach, sliding down until his thumb met her clit, rubbing lazy circles on her, just enough to feel good.
Eris slid his cock off of her slowly, catching the small spurt of cum that came out and pushing it back inside her. After meeting her gaze one last time, he fell to his knees, his mouth placing gentle kisses and nibbles on her plump thighs.
His nose brushed her clit, their scents mingled together filled his nose, his tongue licked her slit like the starved male he was, slurping his own release mixed with her wetness. Her moans drew him insane, she was a quiet female so to know she made those beautiful noises because of him, was maddening. Her hands brushed his hair out of his face, careful fingers touching his pointed ear, making it twitch involuntarily. She felt more than heard her mate's groan, the vibration directly on her clit pushed her off the edge she didn't even know she was treading. Eris didn't stop, the pleasure building up inside her as if she never reached her release at all. His slender fingers pushing through her throbbing slit, curling into a spot inside her that made her see stars, after years of experience, Eris could definitely bring her orgasm after orgasm if he wanted to, and that's what he did. Pushing his fingers as deep as they'd go and pulling them out before she could slip off again, he played with her until he was sure she was too deep in pleasure to hold it back.
When he was done, she could barely feel her own body, still tingling with pleasure and her mind too fogged up. She felt warmth and his scent enveloped her, her cheek pressed into something hard, his heartbeat helped bring her back to herself. Eris' hand brushed her locks behind her ear, caressing her hair mindlessly, he planted kisses where he could reach, head, forehead, eyes, nose, until she stared back at him, eyes still shining as she smiled.
"That was good." She said, voice barely a whisper. Eris hummed in response, smiling back.
He helped her into his shirt, knowing she was too sensitive to wear her dress again. After that they went back to their chambers, still holding one another as they went. All the servants had gone to bed by now, so no one saw their half dressed High Lord and Lady walking through the corridors.
"Are you too tired for a bath?" Eris asked agaisnt her neck, never one to stay away from his mate. "Hungry? I can go make us something." He brushed her jawline with his nose, arms tightly holding her against him.
"Not too tired, and kind of hungry but I'd rather have you here with me." She answered with her eyes closed, bathing in the affection he poured on her.
"I'll draw us a bath, and then we'll go eat something." It was natural for them, so many times had Eris gone to visit her in the middle of the night with an empty stomach, right after finishing all of his work for the day. It only got worse when he became High Lord, so many things to be fixed that the only moment they got to themselves was at night, when Prythian was asleep.
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A/n²: I accidentally wrote "you can duck my mouth if you want"... and when I read it midway through the smut it was... cringe, I stopped writing. had to go feed the ducks
#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#eris smut#eris vanserra smut#acotar smut#acotar#eris acotar#eris fanfic#eris vanserra fanfic#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra
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