#every time i tell someone i drink warm water
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p-antalons · 2 years ago
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5 drinks to get to know me but im not tagging anyone bc that is awkward sorry guys idk u like that 💔💔 thanks to @stardew-allie
1. warm water that is always bordering on hot because i like to burn my tongue off in a pink water bottle that needs to be thrown out immediately
2. herbal medicine in a half sized poland spring bottle bc some random acupuncturist said it would cure my acne (ive grown 6 pimples in the past 24 hours) (i have to drink this in orchestra every day)
3. a nice glass of costco organic milk in a cup that says jack daniels whiskey, cold (on holidays i drink a minimum of 5 glasses of milk)
4. cherry pepsi from the sams club soda machine that has been my go to since i was 9 and my aunt would take us there on the way back from chinese school
5. taro bubble tea from one specific location of this bakery in the city even though they have 3 locations bc this one is right next to the chinese supermarket my grandpa goes to and also i grew up on their egg tarts
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lo1k-diamonds · 10 months ago
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SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride
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PAIRING: YoongixReader
SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.
WORD COUNT: 12.6k
GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)
(You can also read it on AO3)
A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁
Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs
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Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.
He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.
He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.
He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.
He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.
Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.
“Yoongi! You’re back!”
You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.
“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”
The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.
“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.
But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—
The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.
Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.
Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.
The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.
Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.
He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.
You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.
“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.
“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 
You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.
The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”
He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!
But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.
You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”
Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.
The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.
When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.
“Thanks, good night.”
You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?
His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.
But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.
So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.
You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”
“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”
You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?
“Why did you interfere?”
“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.
“I was having a good time!”
You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”
“What? Why?!”
“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.
“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”
“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.
“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.
He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”
He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”
He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?
“You're drunk.”
He pressed the button to draw an espresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.
“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”
A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?
And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”
He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”
You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”
You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.
“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”
You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.
“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”
Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.
He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.
“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”
He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—
A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 
“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 
Your voice wavered, what were you— 
Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”
He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—
The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.
“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”
You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the espresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.
“Did you hear what I said?”
His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”
You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”
His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”
“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”
“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”
“What I want.”
You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.
“What do you want?”
“It’s not a what.”
“Is it a who?”
Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.
He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”
“What words?”
“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”
For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”
“That's not true.”
You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”
“That's also not true.”
“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”
You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.
“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”
“What difference does it make?”
“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”
“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. I want you to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”
You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.
You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.
You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.
Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.
Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.
You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 
His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 
And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—
Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—
His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.
“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”
You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.
He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.
You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”
If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.
His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”
Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”
His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”
You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.
“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”
You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.
“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”
He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.
“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.
He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”
You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”
He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.
“We have to work on that, then.”
You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”
“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”
He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.
Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.
“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”
You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”
“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”
“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.
“Maybe. If that's something you want.”
“I do, I want everything.”
His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”
“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.
For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.
“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”
“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.
“What you do when you think of me.”
“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”
“You’re going to look at me this time.”
“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.
“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.
“Only my eyes?”
“And your thoughts.”
You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.
“You sure you want everything?”
You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”
He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 
Would he do it again?
Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?
“What is going on in there?”
His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”
“Me how?”
“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.
“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”
You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?
Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.
“Do it slowly.”
You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.
So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”
“For?”
You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.
“Me how?”
But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”
It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”
Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”
His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?
“Didn’t I say slower?”
You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.
“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.
You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.
“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.
He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”
“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”
It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 
Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?
So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.
So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.
“Don’t come.”
The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—
He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”
“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”
Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—
A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 
You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.
From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.
“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”
He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.
“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.
So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”
And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.
Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.
“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 
Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.
You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?
“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 
How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 
So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 
“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”
You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 
He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.
His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.
You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.
“So good, you’re so good.”
His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.
That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.
Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?
But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.
“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”
He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.
He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.
Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.
He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.
“You must be tired.”
“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.
“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.
“No…”
You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.
You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”
“Why?”
Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.
“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”
“We have tomorrow.”
“You might change your mind.”
“So can you.”
“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.
“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.
Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”
He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.
When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.
Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?
You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?
Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.
You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 
He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.
So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.
You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.
“Stay still.”
He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”
“No.”
“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.
“Too bad.”
You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.
“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.
“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.
“Let me touch you too.”
And ruin the fun? “No.”
You whined again, “But I've waited.”
“Not enough.”
“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”
“Until I say so.”
You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”
“No.”
It was as though he was shooing a fly.
“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”
“No.”
“But you'll feel so good.”
He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”
“So do it.”
“Hmmmm.”
You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.
And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”
He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.
“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”
Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.
“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”
A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.
“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”
Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.
“You talk too much,” he said quietly.
“And you fuck too little.”
He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.
“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”
“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”
“Your point?”
“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”
His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”
His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.
“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”
He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.
“You wait until I tell you to.”
He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.
You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”
“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.
But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.
“Shut it.”
He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.
You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.
You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.
“Are you going to be quiet?”
His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”
Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.
“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”
“Then I won't be quiet.”
Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.
You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.
You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”
“Why won’t you quiet down?”
“And do your job for you?” 
You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 
“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”
“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”
The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.
“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”
He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”
You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”
“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”
You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”
He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”
You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”
“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”
“And I told you I’d scream.”
You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”
His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”
Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”
“Like hell.”
“No changing your mind?”
“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.
“Go on, then.”
He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?
So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?
“That’s it?”
His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.
“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”
You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.
You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.
His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.
Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.
“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.
“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”
He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.
Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.
He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”
He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”
Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!
You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.
If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.
He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.
You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.
“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.
“Knew what?”
“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.
He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”
You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”
Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 
“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”
You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 
“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.
“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”
“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.
He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”
“Fuck, please.”
He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.
“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”
You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.
“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”
He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.
He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.
He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.
He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.
“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.
“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”
Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.
So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 
Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.
And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?
He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”
You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.
You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.
The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.
“Here — water and chocolate.”
You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.
Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.
He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”
He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.
“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”
“You think about that?”
“Sometimes.”
He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”
“You have no idea,” you laughed.
You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”
Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:
You're bad, you liar. 
It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.
So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”
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kismetlotts · 3 months ago
Text
cw: rape, somnophillia, angry simon riley, degrading, manipulation, creampie, harsh words
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Living with Simon Riley and catching one of them really painful, barking coughs that leave your throat sore when you wake up.
He thought it was cute when you were sick, he’d bring you a warm drink- telling you to drink up, he’d go out and buy you so much medicine he’d walk in with bags full- anything for his little angel to be okay.
He’d offer to wash you in the bath, his soft hands rubbing and massaging your skin even if you told him you were fully capable. He’d treat you, just wanting you to get better. Loving you and caring for you.
But then night came, and things took a turn. He didn’t mind the odd, rough nights sleep due to your cough keeping him up, but for 3 nights in arrow? It was pissing him off and Simons fuse was short. Did you not take any of the medicine he had brought you? I mean honestly- it was like you didn’t want to get better at this point.
He’d try covering his head with a pillow, blocking out the sound of your coughing long enough for him to dip back into sleep, but short enough to wake him up instantly. He didn’t want to go sleep on the couch, he had work and his body needed the rest. So he chose to try and ignore it.
Try ignore the way the bed wobbled every time you shook, try ignore the way the loudness of the cough echoed around the room. Try ignore the way he was fucking losing it and try ignore how selfish you were being.
His hands rushed down, pulling his underwear down, teeth clenched in his jaw and he fisted himself, already hard. He’d scoot his arm under you and bring you in close, staring at your sleeping face with irritation and jealousy. He’d rip down your panties and before you could squirm away at the unfamiliar feeling of air down there, he’d shove himself in deep. Jolting you awake, stinging your insides.
“Simon! What are you-“
But fuck he wasn’t listening. He just kept going and going and going. Fucking you hard, fucking you deep just literally fucking you. He was so pissed off with you, keeping him up like the needy selfish little brat you were.
“It’s annoying, isn’t it love?” He’d ask strained, his voice cracking himself and he pounded your cunt, your insides feeling so soft and buttery on his cock, feeling you slowly getting wetter the longer it went on.
“It’s annoying when someone keeps you awake. Keeps fucking you about. I buy you all them pills, medicines, cough sweets- fuck I pretty much bought anything that had the word cough on it. And you still have it?”
His voice was darker, and through the darkness of the room your eyes watered. Soft cries and pleas coming from your voice because this didn’t feel good. He was going in deep, so deep it actually began to hurt. Your body shook and you cried, tears dripping down your face and into your mouth, tasting the saltiness of the situation. It was gone off, this was bad.
Simon was a gentleman, the man who promises to put a ring on that finger of yours, the man who would protect you, comfort you, save you from anything bad. Even as far in to your relationship now, he’d always ask consent before you made love, he’d always make sure that you like it too. But now? He wasn’t making love or caring about you at all. He was fucking defiling you.
“You’re always so whiny, so fucking annoying. I get you baby, I get you hurt but fuck me. Do you have to be so fucking miserable? It’s like- fuck- if you’re not okay and happy, no one else can be.” His words would hurt you more, he’d just let them out like they were nothing. Like they weren’t adding to your cries, like they weren’t making your wet pussy tighten around him more. His words would degrade you, would manipulate you as he used your body.
He would trick you so easily, you weren’t even crying because you didn’t want it anymore, you were crying because you knew you deserved it. You’d brought all this on Simon, made him run around like some lost puppy just to throw it back in his face at the one time he can rest himself. How dare you, how dare you fucking do that. He’d twitch inside you after a while, finally cumming and pushing you off him. Aftercare was out of the question but you’d gathered that. You didn’t deserve anything right now with your behaviour.
Simons panting died down, the sweat on his back going cold as the heat of the moment vanished. With one leg flipping to the side, he’d roll over, bringing the duvet back up. Now that he was tired, maybe he could sleep better. Huffing and grunting out a quick,
“You wake me up once more, I'm going to fuck that cold out your body- no matter how long it takes.”
Before finally falling asleep.
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jjenthusee · 3 months ago
Text
Late Night Talks
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)
Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING
Word Count: 2.2k
“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.
“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.
“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”
Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.
“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”
“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.
You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.
Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.
You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.
“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”
Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.
He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.
He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.
Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.
So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.
He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.
You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.
“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.
“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.
“Did you drink water today?”
“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.
Cute. Jason thought.
“How was work?”
You eyes brightened.
“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“
As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.
“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.
The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.
“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.
Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.
“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.
“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”
Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.
You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.
“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”
You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.
“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.
Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.
“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.
“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”
You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.
Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..
“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.
Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.
“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.
Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.
“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.
Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.
Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.
He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.
You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.
“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.
Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.
“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.
His hand faltered, never reaching yours.
“I want so much. Too much.”
Jason’s hands clenched
“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”
“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.
“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”
“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.
“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.
“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”
Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.
“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”
Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.
“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.
You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.
“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”
Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.
“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.
You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.
With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.
Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.
You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.
“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.
You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.
Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.
He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.
He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.
His hand dropped.
You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.
“Jay, I’m sor—“
He was gone.
The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.
You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.
You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.
You were calm. Too calm.
You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.
He left. He really left.
You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.
“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.
“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.
Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.
The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.
You quieted down.
Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.
“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.
Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.
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peppermintquartz · 2 months ago
Text
Praiseworthy
--
"Tell me about how it's been for you these past couple days."
With a soft moan, Buck releases Tommy's neck from his mouth's exploration and peers at him, confused. "I already did."
Tommy weaves his fingers into Buck's curls and scratches lightly on his scalp. Buck's eyes flutter shut at how good that feels.
"Tell me how you saved the days," Tommy amends. "Without mentioning that old git. Tell me. Start with how you saved the little girl and her mom from the bee-covered car."
Buck is trying to remember how to form words, his skin tingling from Tommy's gentle caress of his scalp and the not-so-gentle petting of his belly. That same hand is drifting down to his hip.
"Um. We were using CO2, didn't work," Buck murmurs. Losing himself to Tommy's touches, Buck lets the words unfurl freely, his legs tangling with Tommy's. "And the intake was jammed. Couldn't - ah! - couldn't hose the bees away."
Tommy hums, his left hand rubbing soothing circles into Buck's hip, while his right is still giving Buck the best scalp massage in a long while. "So what did you do?"
"Something had caught fire, and. And I remembered that. Smoke. Beekeepers use smoke to dampen bees' senses, make them - ohh, please, Tommy, that feels - make them docile." Buck feels a little lightheaded. That is a common symptom of making out with Tommy, but today every move Tommy makes seems purposeful. Buck moans softly when Tommy's fingers dip under his waistband, even as Tommy encourages him to keep talking. He swallows, licks his lips. "Told Eddie. Told Eddie to direct the smoke. At the car. I, uh, ahhh. Tommy. Tommy."
Tommy's hand is inside Buck's shorts. "Yeah? Come on, keep talking," he says innocently, as if his index finger hasn't just been nudging at Buck's hole moments ago.
Gulping in another breath, Buck continues. "The smoke worked. The bees... calmed down. Got them off one side of the car, got the mom and girl out." He gasps when his boyfriend slides his big hand from its place on Buck's ass to the front to gently grasp his hard, leaking cock.
"You're so well-read," Tommy murmurs approvingly. "Keeping all that knowledge in your gorgeous and adorable head. I love how much you know about the world."
"Yeah? Really?" Buck feels like he can melt into Tommy's voice.
"Mm hmm. Now tell me about the perfume launch."
Rolling his hips slowly as Tommy starts stroking him, Buck murmurs, "The perfume... Oh, oh, please Tommy, more, please?" When Tommy doesn't tighten his grip the way Buck wants him to, he whines, "Please, Daddy?"
Tommy huffs a laugh. He knows what Buck is trying to do, and two can play at that game. "Tell me what you did, baby boy, and Daddy will give you what you want," he says. Promises, with a wink.
Buck pouts, but the effect is lost when Tommy twists his wrist a specific way, which instead makes Buck shudder.
"Perfume launch lady. Um. Told us that, that her assistant is stuck under water, breathing through a hose." The words tumble out. Buck hisses in a sharp breath when Tommy runs the pad of his thumb over his slit, and whimpers again when Tommy does it a second time.
"And what did you do to get her out of it?"
"I overheard. Someone, um, someone. Talking about. Perfume, and-and asked to, to see it." Buck closes his eyes, floats in the sensations of Tommy's voice rumbling in his chest and his warm grip of Buck's erection and strong fingers still massaging his scalp. "The scent was floral... But it had, um. Banana."
"And what was so special about banana, sweet boy? Can you tell Daddy more, please?"
Buck whines high in his throat. "Floral scents attract pollinators like bees," he manages, "and banana riles them up, makes them - mmm - defensive."
"You're so brilliant," Tommy praises. "I didn't know that. I'm so lucky to have a clever and beautiful boy." He pauses his ministrations to kiss Buck deeply, drinking in a faint whine. Then his hand resumes moving. "But it doesn't answer my question, darling. How did you get the bees away from that poor assistant?"
Now Buck has to giggle. "Made Eddie bait." He nuzzles Tommy and says, "He was already suited up, and, mmm, he looked so cute with that dumb moustache. Chimney and I doused him with the perfume. Made him run really fast. Mmmm. Daddy, don't stop."
Tommy is laughing, his whole frame shaking, and his hands are on Buck's hip and shoulder now. "You made Eddie killer bee bait?"
"Yep." Buck preens and nudges Tommy's cheek with his nose. "It worked very well too. We got the woman out. Any longer and she'd have died."
"You're really amazing," Tommy says, turning his face into Buck's arched neck, kissing tiny nipping kisses all along that exposed column. Nothing that will leave marks. "You're really something else, sweet boy, you make me so proud of you every time you show just how capable and resourceful you are. I wanna show you off to the world so so much."
"Really?" Buck asks breathlessly, his chest tight from emotion. Before this moment, he didn't think he needed to hear all that validation, but the praise flowing so freely and sincerely from Tommy is making his skin tingle and his heart pound, even more than the purposeful petting and groping. His throat feels like it's closing with tears, and he buries his face in the closest part of Tommy - his big, strong shoulder - and his eyes are stinging.
With another gulp of air, he gives himself over to pure sensation, letting Tommy's words wash over him and fill him up, letting Tommy's hands draw pleasure from his core out into the open air, letting Tommy's love soothe the thousand little hurts he's been enduring at work. It's not that long before his teeth are pressed to Tommy's shoulder, tongue flat against his skin, as his hips jerk helplessly against his lover and he comes and comes, wrapped in a hazy cocoon of praise and adoration woven from Tommy's voice and sure handling.
Afterwards, when his mind is more his own, he murmurs, "You must think I'm so needy. It must be exhausting to deal with me. With my... I don't know, my neuroses."
"Where did you get that idea from?" Tommy asks, draped partly over the younger man, nose pressed to Buck's soft cheek.
"I don't know why I can't just do my job and not, you know, want an Attaboy now and again. Like, Chimney and Eddie just get on with it. Hen doesn't even seem to be mentally present some days, and she is still incredible at her job." Buck sighs. "Sometimes I feel like I never did leave behind Buck 1.0."
"You're you, whatever version you think you are," Tommy replies. "And the Evan Buckley I know is a quick-thinking, spontaneous, resourceful, and kind man. You're not needy for wanting validation, especially since you have put in work to know that much. It's nice to be seen." With a grunt, Tommy leans over Buck and peers down into the younger man's eyes. "And you're not exhausting to love, Evan. You're so easy to love. So deserving of it. I'll praise you every damn day until you see that for yourself."
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
Note
hello!!! i saw your that your requests were open so i was wondering if you were able to write a hurt/comfort zoro x reader story about how the reader gets injured from a fight, but they don’t wanna be a burden so they hide it until they collapse on deck :)))
tell me that we’ll be just fine (opla!zoro x you)
wc: 1.74k
cw/tags: hurt/comfort with happy sappy ending, swearing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of drinking and alcohol, zoro just loves you and you worry the shit out of him
note: yassss i love hurt/comfort injury prompts (it's the innate desire to just be carried and be vulnerable and have someone care in my weakest hour and and and and) hope you like this, thank you for your request !!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“Guys, I am about to get so wasted.”
“We still have that good shit from Baratie, yeah?”
“Hiding in the back of the cellar, baby!” A loud smack rings out into the harbor as Usopp and Sanji’s hands clap together, deliriously excited after winning a scrimmage with a rival crew. Their proud vocalizations are added to by their captain and devolve into giddy skipping down the remainder of the dock as you make your way back to the ship. Zoro walks just ahead of you, glancing back every so often like he was worried you would collapse. You were planning to, but not now. Just get to the ship. Get to the ship and we’ll be fine.
“I vote Zoro for vomit duty tomorrow morning,” Nami mutters next to you, nudging your arm with her elbow. It’s a light touch but it feels like the world tilts sharply and you pray she can’t see the panic in your eyes when you try to remain upright. Despite her best efforts to remain mature and indifferent, her eyes were sparkling with self-assurance that you only saw from her when she felt a mission went well. She carries the folder of coveted Marine intelligence under one arm, her other hand holds up a bag of goodies you’d snatched from the base that would make good money down the line. “Plus, it gives us some time to take our share of this stuff. Nice finds, by the way. I’m impressed.” 
“Thanks. I learned from the best,” you reply, relief flooding you when she turns back to watch her idiot crewmates and not further inspect the limp in your step. Zoro’s eyes meet yours over his shoulder and you give him a strained smile, well aware that you probably looked like you’d crawled out of hell. When he turns away again, you exhale with great difficulty, fighting off another wave of nausea that threatens to send you stumbling into the water. It’s just a flesh wound, you figure. No need to halt their celebration just because you got a silly cut. “What’s your first pick out of the bag?”
“There’s a pretty little jeweled chalice I was looking at,” she says casually. The waning afternoon sun makes her hair look like a fire, bright and warm. “We could scrape off the rubies and pawn them at the next island.”
“Or, you could drink water from it and look like a pompous asshole.” Just keep it casual. Be normal. The pulse in your ears becomes slightly faster when you notice the foggy spots in your vision. “Freeze some of the diamonds from that candlestick and use them as ice cubes.”
“Very true,” she laughs and you force out a chuckle to mirror her, wincing at the aching pain in your side. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth falls into a frown. Your attempts to seem fine were starting to fall through. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been walking a little slower than usual.” 
“I’m fine, I promise. I just got punched in the gut a little harder than I anticipated,” you lie straight through your teeth, well aware that it wasn’t just a fist that had you losing enough blood to fill the galley sink. To be fair, the guy’s second blade appeared out of nowhere. You were outnumbered five to one but still held your own; only when there was a single fighter left did he resort to cutthroat tricks. One minute, you’re parrying with ease; the next, a small dagger pops out from the fighter’s left sleeve, cutting a deep wound into your side before you can block it with the saber in your right hand. It was a dirty move and you mentally kicked yourself for not anticipating foul play much sooner. To make matters worse, you were only able to staunch the blood so much before Zoro found you in the courtyard. Though you sufficiently covered your injury, he was still eyeing you like he knew that something was off. Like clockwork, every minute he was checking on you. It was wordless, but you still knew he was inspecting you, waiting for you to reveal that something happened and that you needed help.
That moment came the instant your boots met the wood of the deck. 
In seconds, your vision violently careens to the right and you’re conscious just enough to expect the thud of your head against the floor. But, the crash never comes. When you fall, your mind registers another body that you fall into, strong and stable. One arm slips effortlessly under your exhausted legs, lifting you from the ground while the other supports your upper back. Your eyes blur the image of your panicked crew like an oil painting, smearing it every which way until the colors are bleeding together more uncontrollably than the blood dripping from your side. Everything sounds like you’re drowning, rising above the water for a moment only to be pulled back down into murky disorientation. 
“Idiot,” a low voice says. It’s wrought with worry, even though you can tell they’re trying not to hide it. It’s clear enough that you know it’s coming from whoever is holding you. “Why the hell did you wait?” You’re barely able to distinguish far-off shouting from Sanji, ordering Luffy and Usopp to grab his knives. But, if all three of them were over there and Nami was throwing open cabinets looking for the med kit, that means the person holding you was… “Fuck. I knew something was wrong.” You have half the mind to articulate a weak response, but it comes out as nothing more than a groan when you’re placed onto what feels like the galley counter. The pounding in your forehead starts to become airy, like when you’re walking down the sidewalk after a night of drinking until you were on the verge of passing out. Zoro doesn’t let you go, though. His calloused fingers gently brush the dirt from your face, quietly pleading for you to stay with me, stay with me, stay with me. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Just stay with me.” 
“They’re losing a lot of blood and I can’t find the damn med kit.” 
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Above deck, having a collective panic attack.” Nami’s voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away. 
“Figures.” Zoro’s, on the other hand, is the only thing keeping you rooted and stopping you from drifting off. It’s sharp and strained, nothing like you’d ever heard from him before. Sanji’s lanky steps enter the kitchen and you hear the zip of his knife bag somewhere close to your ear.
“This is bad; I need to stop that bleeding or they might–” Zoro’s grip on your hand is tight, physically holding you down to reality. Whether you laced your fingers in his or the other way around, you didn’t remember.
“Well, let’s fucking do something about it then, waiter,” is the last thing you hear before darkness wipes your vision. 
Your eyes blink open after what feels like seconds, but the starry sky outside the window tells you it had been hours. It takes a moment for the details to come back to you, as does the soreness where they must have patched up your wound. The hard stone of the counter has been replaced by your bed and the comforting sway of the ship tells you Luffy ordered the ship to depart. It’s healing, in a way, the rocking back and forth motion of the ship that reminds you how close you were to slipping away. After a minute, you muster up enough energy to look at the rest of your room and you can’t help smiling when you see Zoro sitting at your bedside, tensely sleeping with the Wado Ichimonji laid across his lap. His eyes fly open when you whisper his name, delicately setting his blade on the floor before crouching at your side. 
“You’re okay,” he breathes and it sounds more like a reassurance for himself than for you.
“I’m okay,” you confirm just as softly, threading your fingers between his and squeezing lightly. He squeezes back, looking at you like you painted the constellations outside your window. “How long have you been here?”
“Since Sanji and Nami fixed you up, about six hours ago.”
“You’ve been sitting there for six hours?”
“I would have sat longer. I’d wait for you, no matter how long you slept,” he says and it sounds like a vow. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
“Sorry,” you apologize weakly, giving him as much of a shy smile as you could. He rolls his eyes in exasperation but can’t help the corner of his mouth quirking too. “I didn’t want to bother you all while you were celebrating.”
“You really think I’m going to give alcohol priority over you?”
“Depends on the alcohol,” you point out and he shakes his head at your teasing. Your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and you’re struck by the overwhelming feeling of safety you have whenever Zoro’s around. “But, really. I’m sorry for worrying you.” 
His eyes darted to the side like you’d said something that embarrassed him. The only thing he could think to do in that moment was bring your hand to his lips and press the lightest kiss to it. A promise that he’d always take care of you. He never was the best with words, you realized in your friendship-borderline-relationship with him. The things you said tended to short-circuit his brain and it was fascinating to watch him try and think of a coherent response. In times like these, however, when he’s simply unable to find the words for how much he feels for you, his actions are infinitely louder. 
“You should go back to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Do you need anything before you rest? Water or blankets or something?”
“No, just you. If you got in here with me, I wouldn’t mind,” you suggest nonchalantly and you giggle when his face becomes pinker. He obliges, though, slipping into the covers with you and carefully pulling you into him until you’re pressed against his chest like your own personal heater. His breathing is slow and steady, but you swear you can hear his heartbeat racing. “You’re the only one I’ll ever need, I think.”
“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Just don’t do stupid shit like get stabbed again.”
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504py · 8 months ago
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Do you have any thoughts on yandere SDV Harvey?🤔
i sure do!!!! i think i got a little carried away 😭😭😭 i hope i delivered!
Yandere Harvey Relationship Headcanons
Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, munchausen syndrome by proxy, implied murder, implied NSFW, Harvey's a little weird about bodily fluids and food, long post ahead!
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How the relationship started...
Let's say, he knows you outside of his work, and somehow, you're the one person in Stardew Valley who has never entered his clinic before. Honestly, you'd have drawn his attention right then and there because of your strange imperviousness to harm or disease.
Like... You? That farmer who goes down into the mines every other day to fight monsters has never been injured? You, who works day and night to the point of exhaustion has never gotten sick and required medical assistance?
The fact that you weren't one of his patients would worry him to his bones.
Even if you weren't one of his patients, he'd have befriended you outside of work. Perhaps at the saloon, after hours, and one of the very rare times he's seen you relax.
He notices the slight limp as you enter, different from your usual gait. When he asks, you chalk it up to a rock in your boot. Harvey sends you a disapproving stare and a furrowed mustache, and you loosen up.
You tell him you tripped while running away from a slime in the mines. And that you maybe pulled something while running. And maybe you lifted something wrong yesterday and hurt your back. And-
Harvey takes off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyebrows, stressed.
"And not once did you think to come visit me?"
"Thought it would go away if I just slept and drank enough water."
His gaze softens.
"..I really do advise it. Please."
Your fingers play with your glass. He can see a bruise forming on the side of your wrist, and the cuts and calluses on your skin.
"...I'll do it tomorrow."
He sighs slightly.
"Well, since I can't do anything for you right now, I'll at least buy you a drink."
"You can do that?"
"Hey, it numbs the pain. Painkiller." He jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. He realizes he likes the sound of your laugh.
"But- wait, don't take that as real medical advice. Really. Please."
That pulls another laugh out of you, louder, and pink warms his cheeks as he laughs heartily alongside you.
The next evening, Harvey waited all day for you to come in. It was nearing closing hours, and he was worried you had disregarded his advice, but right as he got up to start closing the clinic, the door opens, and there you are, leaves in your hair and your muddy shoes leaving a track on his tiles.
He's elated, he knows he shouldn't be, considering why you're even here, but he's so glad you listened to him, so glad you're here. He looks noticeably flustered, his hair is slightly out of place, his glasses are sliding down his nose, and his tie is loose.
"O-Oh, hey there. You finally came in."
"Were you waiting for me? I apologize. It looked like you were about to close up."
He waves your worries away with a dismissive hand, "Ah, what's one more patient? Come on, you look like you really need my help, anyways."
You follow him into a room, cringing at the muddy mess you leave on the floor.
"Sorry for that- I can clean up after we're done."
Harvey insistently shakes his head, sighing your name, "No, no, can't have you doing that, not in the condition you're in." He motions over to the bed, you sit on the edge of it.
"Besides, I haven't even started my assessment of you yet, but I already know you're gonna need a few days of rest at least. Doctor's orders."
He smiles softly at your annoyed expression, donning his stethoscope as you straighten your posture slightly, readying for him to place the other end of the apparatus on you.
"...See, you've got an abnormal heart rate for someone who is at rest."
He notes the warmth of your skin under his palm, resting against your back.
"Have you been feeling ill recently? Runny nose, coughing, headaches, anything of the sort?"
"U-Uh, no." You shake your head, playing with the fabric of your trousers. Nervous.
"...You seem rather flustered. Any reason?"
Your eyes glance up at his, he cocks his head, and you immediately look back down to your feet.
"...Nah."
Harvey smiles, knowingly, and the rest of the appointment continues as normal.
Expectations...
Following this, he'd be more obvious in his attempts to court you. His courting attempts would feel rather old-fashioned, but I think there's a lot of heart in them. I feel like Harvey would be a little bit of a sucker for romantic things, so you'd definitely be receiving letters, all from a secret admirer, of course.
He is confident that he likes you, but he'd carry a lot of anxiety about being so upfront about it, and that perhaps you wouldn't feel the same way.
The letters he sends you would be brief yet sweet. Short messages to pick you up for the day, just wanting to be a part of your life.
"If you ever feel like all the work you do isn't appreciated, know that I am always here, and I always do. You are doing great."
You'd tell him about the letters you've been receiving, during one of your evenings together at the bar. It'd make him blush. Oh, his letters were so important to you that you had to gush about them to a friend?
"And... What do you think of them? The letters?" His eyes are slightly wider than they should be, but the reflections on his glasses hide his faintly, much-too focused expression.
You shy from his eye contact, "...I think they're really sweet. But honestly, I wish they'd just... say it to me directly instead of hiding like this. I want to communicate, talk to them, y'know? Have a conversation, and stuff.."
Harvey blinks, wets his lips.
"What do you think you'd do if he-" He clears his throat, "-they did?"
You frown a little, mulling over the thought for a bit.
"...I'd go on a few dates with them, see if things work out."
His exhale is shaky, he takes a sip of his whiskey.
"Who do you think it is?"
You meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, his cheeks are red too, but that might be the alcohol... Though you realize he's not the type to get flushed when drunk.
"...Is it you?"
His fingers around his glass tremble, and his bottom lip quivers.
"I.. w-well..." He pushes his glasses up, nervously running a hand through his hair. You giggle, and he relaxes.
"Yeah." He smiles warmly.
"Yeah?" You chirp out a laugh again, "I figured."
Although Harvey was usually one who didn't have any problem holding eye-contact at all, now he found himself unable to look at you for too long without getting giddy like a schoolgirl and having to look away to save his racing heart.
That night, you two would be declared a couple. He teased you, wondering where that "first few dates then we'll see how it works out" phase went. You said it was different if it was him, and he had to hide his face in his hands to conceal his boyish, cheesy grin.
His first show of affection would be the next morning, when he brought you a bouquet of flowers to your doorstep, but upon arrival, seeing your expansive field of vegetation, he realized it was perhaps a bit stupid to gift flowers to someone who grows them.
Nonetheless, you accepted them from an embarrassed Harvey gratefully, saying you've wanted to try growing these for a while. Lo and behold, the next time he shows up, with a more thought-out gift this time, he sees a few new flower pots on your front porch.
Harvey as your boyfriend is strangely rather maternal. He tends to be quite the worrywart, always fussing over any cuts or bruises you may get while going about your day, making sure you eat and get enough rest, and always making sure you're dressed properly.
Oh, the different kind of monster Harvey turns into during the winter LOL. He will stay posted by your door, making sure you don't step a foot outside without a thick coat or gloves.
He does enjoy more than he likes to admit, though, when you still feel cold and he has to give you his coat or his scarf. It makes him all smiley and he thinks you look adorable in his clothing.
I think, his deepest desire, is for you to always stay safe, and that he is the one to provide that safety. I mean, with him being a doctor, he is the only person qualified to look after you anyways, but he still does get jealous.
He gets really upset when he's out of the clinic for a bit, and finds out that Maru was the one who tended to your wounds instead of him.
He gets more jealous when you tell him about the work you did that day, and another person was with you.
What do you mean you spent the evening fishing while conversing with Elliott? That could've been him...
What do you mean you spent the afternoon in the library with Penny? Wha- Gunther winked at you!?
Harvey really does want to spend more time with you, but he has a duty to attend to.
Unless...
Punishments...
Maybe, one day, Harvey will stop worrying so much over your health. He'll let you do your thing as you please, though it would hurt him to see you going about your day so haphazardly. But he'll hold back on his usual worried malewife nagging, and just let you do you.
One day, your dangerous lifestyle will catch up on you, and maybe you'll catch a cold, or you'll break a bone. Harvey will be there immediately, much too prepared.
Even though this is what he wanted from this plan, he still cries. He hates seeing you so beat-up, but he couldn't think of any other way to always be by your side. At least the tears blow away any suspicion of his part in this.
It could be a tiny fracture, but he'll still insist you'd need a cast, and that you'd need a wheelchair for the first few weeks. And, of course, Harvey's there to coddle you and help you around.
Maru says she can look after you while Harvey runs the clinic, but he gets uncharacteristically hostile at the mere suggestion of this. If Maru were to keep prying, if she were to find out that your injuries aren't as bad as he says they are, then Harvey might have to resort to more drastic measures.
Murder would be a very difficult thing for Harvey to do, but when he thinks about the life you two have right now- having you rely on him for everything, taking care of you everyday, spending every single moment with each other- his heart feels like it could fall out of his chest at the thought of anyone taking that away from you two.
His access to such a wide array of chemicals and medicines would be terrifying. If anyone threatens this peaceful, perfect life between you two, he could simply inject them with a certain concoction during their routine check-ups, say they needed it, that it was medicine, and it wouldn't even show in an autopsy.
Unfortunately, his tampering with human life extends to you.
Harvey, I think, would get much too enamored by this life you two have made since you've gotten injured.
Being able to dote on you with no restraint, being by your side for every single moment, it was all he could ever dream of.
But all good things come to an end, and your fractured bone would start to heal.
He never thought he'd be capable of lying, not sure if he'd ever done it before, but it's a newfound talent to him. Worries him how good he is at it.
He tells you you need to keep that cast on. That even if you're allowed to use crutches now instead of a wheelchair, that you still need his assistance. He insists that you need him.
Any sort of push-back from you would have his heart pounding. No, no, you can't get up and go back to work. You can't be doing chores on your own, he'll do that- You cannot leave.
Munchausen syndrome by proxy from an actual doctor would be a horrifying thing to go through. Not just any other doctor either, but Harvey, a man who seems so gentle and kind-hearted, a man who is supposed to be your partner.
Sad to say, but I don't think you'd have any way out of this. Your best course of action would be to just let him take care of you as much as he pleases. In due time, he would want to see you get better, so you'll be back to having your freedom in a few months, maybe...
Rewards...
It is pretty comedic saying this after that punishments portion, but Harvey, on more normal days, really is a passive man. He doesn't really have any strange obsessive habits, though he's probably a little weird about fluids...
By that, I mean he'd probably slip a little bit of his saliva or semen into his cooking. He gets a really euphoric rush when he sees you eating that tainted food he made for you. He enjoys that idea that a part of him is mingled in your body now. The other way around goes, too.
When you're sleeping, sometimes you drool, did you know that? You probably don't, because Harvey always wipes it off and licks it. It gives him shivers whenever he does, makes him way more excited than it should.
His libido is not the highest, but that's because I think he makes an active effort to suppress himself. Wants to be good for you. Harvey does have these dirty thoughts pretty often, but he usually just excuses himself to the bathroom for a second to relieve himself when it gets too unbearable. Even then, he dislikes this, since he feels like it'd be a waste of his release, since it's not inside you.
Every day would feel very domestic, he'd tease that you two already act like an old married couple, but he'd secretly hope you'd catch on to the idea he's putting down.
Harvey really does want to get married to you. He honestly, strangely, would act a lot more normally if you two were to be wed. It's like, there is something that exists that ties you two together, so even if you two aren't always by each other's side, he at least finds some comfort in knowing you two are bound forever.
Let's just, uh, hope you don't divorce him... Honestly, at this point, he may have already taken care of Mayor Lewis, so that option won't even be open to you anymore.
Harvey would probably try to pop the question during a little picnic he prepared for the two of you. The box for your engagement ring hidden in the picnic basket, amongst carefully wrapped sandwiches and lunchboxes.
You would pick it up while looking through the basket, wondering what it was. You open it, and Harvey feels like he could faint from how fast his heart is beating.
He stutters a lot, being unable to look you in the eye, then you rest a hand on his shoulder, and he feels alright again.
"I... I'd really like to get married with you, my love. Whaddya say?"
You smile at him, you say yes, and Harvey literally shouts in joy, before roughly taking you in his arms.
He quickly apologizes for being so erratic, but he swears he's never been happier. He just loves you so much.
Even though you two were only fiancés at this point, he'd call you his husband/wife/spouse from time to time, just a slip of the tongue, but he does get shy about it.
Your life together would be relatively the same now, just with some more added affection.
He'd get more comfortable around you, kissing you more often, getting more touchy, wearing less clothing around the house.
Of course, his main core value is still there; to care for you.
When thinking of Harvey's love language, you would, rationally, expect it to be acts of service. However, I posit this; his love language would be allowing himself to be taken care of.
He does get tired, and you do notice. You try to do his chores, try to take care of yourself so he'd have some time to relax, but he always gets fussy about it.
He insists that he can still do it, that he can still do things for you. Perhaps, he's scared that if he's unable to please you, that you'll go elsewhere, fall out of love with him.
You can sense that fear, and you tell him you'll still be here. You tell him to go lie down and rest, and you'll join him when you've finished cleaning up.
The wrinkles on his forehead soften up, so does his gaze, and he nods.
"I... Alright, sweetheart. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long, okay?"
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teddiesworldd · 8 months ago
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could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk
after the world ends (p2)
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this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!
a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)
pairing: simon ghost riley x reader
tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')
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day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.
time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 
other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 
in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.
it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.
you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 
head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.
the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.
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four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.
nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.
but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 
“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.
“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”
you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.
“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 
“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.
“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.
“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.
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ma1dmer · 8 months ago
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Call of Duty - Russell Adler NSFW
AMERICAAAA RAAAAAAH 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he sits back, lights up a cigarette and brings you close to him, he needs a second to come back down, usually doesn't talk much right after, but he likes to listen as he trails his hand up and down the small of your back, blowing the smoke away from your face and offering you the cigarette, sometimes watching you talk makes him want to go for a second round
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he is a chest guy, he loves the feel of cupping your chest when you ride him, playing with your nipples or putting his mouth around them, he's really into feminization as well, you are his pretty little thing no matter what, and him playing with your chest enforces that, loves sexy bralettes, low cut tops and matching sets especially
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he loves the mess, everytime you get embarrassed he assures you that's exactly what his goal was, to have you ruining his sheets, whether thats by squirting or cumming, he also really loves pulling out right as he's cumming inside of you, just to watch it leak out of you, but that part is only reserved if you two have been together for a long time
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he has a few darker fantasies that he doesn't quite know how to bring up to you, he'll jokingly pepper them in during his dirty talk or when he pins you down, pointing out how easy that is for him, or when you leave your window open, or when you are drinking a bit too much, just a hint to something darker, maybe he's making you warm up to the idea, testing the waters to see if you'd like something like that, he'd never bring it up himself, especially if you are in an actual relationship, but he'd do enough to plant the idea in your mind make you want to at least explore these ideas
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): of course he has experience, he has an ex wife, he's had his fair share of one night stands, and it's a real shame that he can backup all his claims, because he does get quite cocky
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): reverse and normal cowgirl, enjoys letting you set the pace, his hands always on your chest unless you get tired at which point he'll pull you down chest to chest and thrust up inside you, fast and rough, knocking the wind straight out of you
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): his favourite thing to get to you is acting as if you two are strangers just meeting each other when you are out at a bar, he hits you up with the cheesiest swoon worthy one liners, he buys you a drink, asks your name and everything, its stupid and god damn him it works every time he does it
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): mostly keeps things trimmed unless he knows you two are meeting up for the night, then he has no issue cleaning it up entirely, he always smells very strongly of after shave, tastes like it too when you mouth at his neck
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he can flirt like nobody else, but being romantic, it isn't so easy for him, everytime you think he's doing something romantic, he's suddenly pulling away from you, both metaphorically and literally, mentally and physically, one second he's kissing you telling you he missed you breathlessly, the next he's spun you around to face the wall, not wanting to look at your face
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): when he was by himself he had no qualms about handling himself, when he needed to fall asleep quickly or when he was too tired or lazy to pick someone else up, but once he has you, he likes to hold himself off, always tells you that he's doing it for you, how pent up he is and how difficult it was thinking of you while he was away
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): impact play, cnc, feminization, voyeurism etc
L = Location (favorite places to do the do): your place, his place, any room, it does not matter, if you can't decide, a hotel room is a good copromise, he also enjoys the odd domesticity of a kitchen as well, coming up behind you when you are making breakfast for the both you
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): he has a very sensitive neck, kiss the side of his neck while talking to him, drag your teeth down his collarbones and watch him melt
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): there isn't a lot he'd be opposed to with the right motivation some would say, he is easy to convince, just give him some time to think things over
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): don't get him wrong he loves tasting you, but nothing beats the image of you on your knees, he is a head pusher, he swears he doesn't do it on purpose, hes probably lying, the feeling of your throat around his cock is secondary to the sounds you make when you are caught off guard
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): the foreplay is long and by the time he is ready to push himself inside you it really doesn't matter, the act itself is kind of detached he's mostly chasing his own pleasure and by then you don't really mind, already boneless and sore
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he loves them, loves the idea of them more than the mess dealing with them brings, messy hair, cum on his clothes etc etc, but he really doesn't mind squeezing you in while doing paperwork to destress or have you in the stalls of some run down bar on one of your dates
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): you'll have to tell him what you want, most of the time he's willing to indulge you, he'll think through what you asked of him when he's gone and come back with a plan the next time he visits
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): one or two solid rounds, the foreplay lasts longer than then act itself
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): really really likes the idea of them, he won't bring them up by himself, but if you tell him you own some, he'll ask you to tell him how you use them exactly, do you think of him, he'll jokingly ask you if he should be intimidated as his fingers climb their way up and inside your thighs, in the end after he's thought about it a bit or a lot, he'll ask you to bring them out next time
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he loves fingering you, half the fun is shoving his fingers inside of you, feeling around for that spot that makes you twitch beneath him or on his lap, he is extremely skilled with his hands and he loves proving it over and over, he is also absolutely a pussy slapper, has you spread out on his lap, back against his chest, thighs kept apart by his own legs, he starts off gently, and then he gets quite mean with it, until he can feel your wetness on his entire palm and you are clawing at his forearm
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he groans and grunts, his voice deep and gravely when he feels you around him, he curses and dirty talks like its his job
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): loves kissing, you are the bravest soldier if what you have with him is casual, he makes it so difficult to not think he's in love with you with the way he kisses, always chasing your mouth, holding your face between his hands, breathing against your lips, telling you you drive him insane as he pulls your hand to his cock
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): he has a nice cock, a grower, straight with a pretty pink head, it fills up his fist nicely when he holds it for you
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he only lets himself think of you on his down time, when he is doing paperwork, when he's resting at night in his room lonely in his bed, when he can light a cigarette, palm himself through his pants and wonder when he can drop in to see you again
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he takes his time, almost as if stalling, waiting for you to go to sleep first, he'll let you talk, then he'll wander around the room aimlessly, go smoke, go to the bathroom, if you are not asleep by the time he comes back he might start another round, if you are he finally joins you, hugging you from behind and holding you the entire night
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ephie-om · 6 days ago
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Simeon trudges along the soft carpet to answer Purgatory Hall's door. He vaguely remembers someone was supposed to visit, but in his mind's haze he can't seem to recall who. Between the endless explosions from Solomon's room and late nights comforting Luke after a long day, the angel was exhausted.
The front door creaks open to reveal your smiling face. Your smile quickly drops as you take in Simeon's state. He realizes how he must look. Disheveled clothes, oily skin, probably several stains on his robes. He's fairly sure he should be ashamed, but he's too tired. "I apologize, I'm not exactly... put together." He flashes you a quick smile, hoping to dispel your worries.
You tsk at him and gently push past him into the house. An alarm goes off in his mind, a bit too late, that he should be a gracious host and invite you in. But since it's you, he supposes, there's not much point in telling you to make yourself at home. He watches you drop your bag on the floor and shove it out of the way with your foot. You're looking at him, he realizes. Expectantly. "Um... I'm sorry. What?" Your lips twist (in what? Worry? Disappointment? Has he done something wrong?) and you let out a breath.
"I said, I know your roommates have been getting to you." He nods quickly, eager to show he's listening this time. "So I took the liberty of finding them excuses to not be here tonight. They're safe and in good company, but that leaves you here. Alone, with no distractions." You grin at him, almost evilly. "Which means you don't have any excuse to refuse my help."
You make quick work of boiling water for tea and running a bath. Simeon, having been sternly commanded to not help in any way, is perched awkwardly on a stool in the kitchen. He watches you rush back and forth between rooms, making sure neither the kettle nor the tub can overflow. It's almost amusing, watching you run about like this all for him. Yes, he thinks, it's amusing, and endearing, but if he thinks too long about that he might really say something he shouldn't.
You push a mug full of hot tea towards him from across the counter and stare him down until he drinks. It's warm, the warmest, sweetest thing he's tasted for weeks. He didn't even think he liked this blend. There must be something about your fingers making it that dripped pure nectar into it. He sips slowly, letting his tongue wrap around every drop. He wouldn't dare waste a bit of the liquid gold you'd given him. The silence stretches over the kitchen like a warm blanket and he closes his eyes as he drinks. Your footsteps fade as you go to check the bathroom and he finds himself missing the sound of your breathing.
He drains his mug and heaves himself to his feet. You meet him midway to the bathroom and place a warm hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the hall. Only his angel sensibilities stop him from stripping down as soon as he sees the tub. He sees a thick layer of tiny bubbles floating over the water's surface, and a gentle floral scent rises up to greet him. He swears he could kiss you here and now.
You face him, hand on his arm, and he finds every detail of your lips as you speak. "I don't mean for this to be awkward or anything, but I've been tired like this before and I know how hard simple things can be. So I wanted to tell you if you need any help with this, I'll be right here." You turn to walk out, but he catches hold of your hand.
"Please. It's..." He trails off, embarrassed. "My hair. I don't even know how long it's been since I've washed it." You nod and respectfully face the wall as he disrobes. The noise that leaves his mouth as he lowers himself into the water would be sinful anywhere else. He feels the tension is his back loosen as the warm ripples lap against his skin. When did he get so tired? When had moving a single muscle become such a chore?
You settle on the edge of the tub and gently tilt his head back. He hears you rummage around for his shampoo and finally smells that familiar teakwood scent that drifts down from your fingers. You work his hair into a lather, so slowly he thinks you must be trying to put him to sleep. He doesn't even want to look at what color the bubbles must be coming off his hair, so he shuts his eyes and leans back into your hands. You chuckle softly and rinse his head ever so carefully, making sure to shield his eyes. He hears a generous amount of conditioner plop into your palm and you indulge him in what's practically a scalp massage, going over his head with your fingertips again and again.
You gasp softly and your fingers stop. Simeon's eyes snap open in fear, imagining what horrors you could've found in his hair. "I'm so sorry, I knew it was dirty, I shouldn't have-"
"You're glowing."
"Sorry?"
"Simeon, you're glowing."
His arm sloshes up from the depths of the tub as he checks for himself, and sure enough, an ochre glow emanates from under his skin. "Ah. That must be a quirk specific to angels. It's entirely subconscious, because it only happens in times of utmost happiness." You smile wide, fascinated as he explains.
"So that means..." You trail off expectantly.
He blushes and settles back under the water, an excuse to tear himself away from that blinding smile. "It means you make me happy." he says simply. You're silent for a moment as you work and he wonders if that was too much. Your fingers caress the hinge of his jaw and tilt his head back again, and he opens his eyes just in time to be met with your lips pressed to his forehead. It only lasts for a brief moment, but he thinks he could live like this for eternity.
Neither of you say anything as Simeon finally stands and dries off. Neither of you need to. Your hand wraps around his arm and he finds himself not caring the least but about where you're taking him. The two of you end up on the living room couch as you painstakingly detangle his hair while a late-night reality show plays softly in the background. The manners that the Celestial Realm has taught him over centuries remind him he ought to say thank you. He takes a breath, opens his mouth and shuts it again, silently. The silence is comfortable. In a world where everyone talks and no one ever listens, silence is trust. And right now he trusts you more than anything else in the three realms.
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azzo0 · 6 months ago
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Someone She Used to Know
Summary: Katsuki meets his ex girlfriend after six years.
Warnings: Katsuki's drunk, throwing up, angsty.
Song: Ghost Town- by Benson Boone
wc: 1k
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It's been six years since she broke up with Katsuki. He doesn't hate her for it. She did herself justice by breaking up with him. He wasn't there for her. Every day was a day of broken promises where he vowed to come home early, spend time with her, take her on a date, and cuddle on the couch, but he rarely fulfilled his broken promises, getting caught up in hero work instead. He doesn't hate her. He never can. It was his fault he was more focused on work instead.
She was the first and last person he fell in love with.
Six years later, he's sitting in a pub. He gets dragged out by Eijiro and Denki here every weekend, but some days, he prefers coming here alone. The clicking of heels catches his attention, and he glances up from the glass he's been staring at for the past couple of minutes, watching droplets of water race down the glass. It's a woman dressed in a beautiful black minidress with sequins like stars. His eyes move up to the woman's face, and he almost spills his drink. 
It's her, his ex. 
His hands grow sweaty, and he sets the drink on the table in case he drops the glass. He's still as a cat, his breath caught in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. He can feel his shirt clinging to his chest. He hasn't heard a word from her in six years. No texts, no calls, no meeting each other accidentally, so seeing her in the flesh made him dizzy. He couldn't tell if it was the drink or if it was just her. He remembers feeling the same way when he first met her in a cafe. She used to work there at the time, and he'd buy coffee every day from that very cafe despite not being a fan of coffee. Here he was, several years later, feeling the same way. He'd convinced himself that he was over it. Maybe he was not. Maybe that's why he drank like a sad old man by himself every week. Maybe his heart still yearned for her.
She's beautiful, he reminds himself. She's always been beautiful, but did he ever make her feel beautiful? Did he make her feel loved? Could he still make her feel loved? His schedule wasn't the same as it used to be before, given that crime rates had dropped significantly over the past few years, but there wasn't any point now, was there? It was too late. 
He wonders if he should go up to her, watching her check the time on her phone. She shook her head when the waiter asked her if she'd like something, giving him a smile. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, tapping a finger on the table. He catches the glint of a beautiful emerald ring on her ring finger, and he understands. She's waiting for her fiancé. 
He picks up the glass and downs his drink in one big sip. It makes his throat burn. He doesn't care. He gets his glass refilled again. Her fiancé arrives a few minutes later. A tall and handsome man with kind eyes and a warm smile. He watches her eyes light up at the sight of him. Once upon a time, he was the one making her eyes light up like that. She gets up and plants a quick peck on his lips. The man sits across from her, taking her hand, thumb brushing over the ring.
Katsuki thinks of how that could've been him if he wasn't so obsessed with his work back then. If he didn't come home late, after she was deep asleep, cuddling a pillow because he wasn't there and leaving in the early hours of the morning so his side of the bed was cold by the time she woke up. He thinks of how he could have been the one she dressed up so pretty for. How he could've been the one asking her to marry him. 
I don't deserve her, Katsuki reminds himself. She deserves someone who puts her first, someone who's far kinder and loving than he is. Someone who isn't him.
He's lost count of how many drinks he's had at this point. He doesn't remember when he got up. He doesn't know when he got into the parking lot. He's throwing up into a trash can. He feels a hand on his shoulder while he's still vomiting. He glances back to see her watching him with concerned eyes. Her fiancé stands behind her, equally concerned. 
"Are you alright?" she asks. Her voice reminds him of a flower garden. Soothing and calm. 
"Yeah," he manages to croak. Her eyes dart around, looking for his car. He's in no state to drive himself. 
"Would you like me to call Mina or Eijiro?" she asks. 
"No," he slurs. He's drunk, but he's sure her fiancé raises his eyebrows questioningly. 
"Do you know him, love?" he asks, surprised she knows the number two hero. 
"Oh, I used to know him," she replies casually, scrolling through the contacts on her phone. 
I used to know him. 
He tries not to stumble as he watches her talk to one of his friends on the phone. He wants to tell her he's glad she's found the one for her. He's glad she's happy. The words never leave his throat. 
When she was done talking on the phone, she glanced at him with a worried smile, "Would you like us to stay with you in the meantime?" 
He wishes she weren't so kind to him. He wishes she'd give him an ugly stare and tell him he looked pathetic, but she's always been like this. Too kind for her own good. He shakes his head in response. She hums and locks her arm with her fiancé, telling him it was nice meeting him with a goodbye. No see you around. Just goodbye. 
He sits in his car, the back of his hand over his eyes as he waits for one of his friends to pick him up, her words echoing in his head. Oh, I used to know him. She did not say something like 'ex' or a 'friend'. He was just a stranger to her. A someone she used to know. 
Nothing more. 
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diejager · 8 months ago
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Something crazy lol
How would the monster 141 guys react to hunter sneezing so hard their nose starts bleeding? cold is crazy where I am that this just happened
Cw: weird medical thing, blood, bloody nose, tell me if I missed any.
You caught a fever on the last mission, having to treck through the cold, rural regions of Finland, your bodies victim to the biting frost and staying in an abandoned bunker turned safe house for a few days resulted with that. As a medic - the medic of the Task Force - you knew what to do and what not to do, it was implemented in your training to rid of a cold or small sickness as quick as possible for a weakened body. They naturally flock you like worried mothers once you’re back on base, whenever someone was free, they’d tail you around the base, helping you with things if you had trouble with it because of your runny nose and dazed mind. They became your shadows, a perpetual shape following you from behind or the side.
It was expected from you to help even when you were sick, wearing a mask around people, taking care to avoid infecting others with your strand, and eating farther from your team or in the safety of your room where you wouldn’t worry about sharing the contagion while you ate. You took your medications on a regular schedule, a pill of ibuprofen for the aches, your pounding head, your throbbing joints and general soreness, and acetaminophen for your growing fever. You estimated, from prior experience, that your fever would break a week or two in when you took care to drink water, ate correctly, took your meds and slept regularly, but it persisted. Your fever was like a pest, consistent and stubbornly staying in your system. 
It got to the point that your nose became much too irritated, sensitive to the slightest touch or whenever you sneezed again and again. Your nose pained you with everything you did, and after one too many sneeze, something ruptured. You splattered blood on the inside of your mask after a painful sneeze, a raspy cough following it and a flurry of panic from them. Throwing away any caution and self-consideration for their health to hurry to your side, worried hands pawing at you and whispering their concerns at your sudden bloody nose. 
If they were worried about you before, now they were extremely concerned. Price had you confined to your room, tied down to your bed and left under watch with at least one man by your side, and they ignored every little complaints and huffs you threw at them. Ghost and Horangi had to manhandle you to your bed, laying your head on the soft pillow Alejandro and Rudy went on a hunt for and covering - wrapping you in with how much you struggled against them - you with a thick and warm blanket that Gaz went to the trouble of buying on a sudden whim. 
The sergeants had more time on hand, rerouting to your room so often that they lived with you, entertaining you when you grew bored from reading novels and watching a série or documentary on your tablet. They made you laugh and made your moments less depressing. Ghost and the colonels had less time to visit, but they came whenever they could, always bringing a plate of sweets or a snack to fix your occasional hunger; Ghost with his chip bag, König with his pastry, and Alejandro with his spiced food. Price was the busiest man of the team, glued to his desk and old and used chair, signing paperwork and having to think of a temporary replacement for you, but he still had time to pass at night or after he ate, bringing you a plate from the mess hall. 
You hated being sick, it went against all you stood for and it ultimately made your Task Force worry and fuss about you.
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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inuyashaluver · 10 months ago
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ello! can i request a sisters bestfriend fic with niamh charles where youre jessie flemings sister and came to live with her and meets niamh and they fall in love
sister’s best friend - niamh charles
niamh charles x reader
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description: in which your sister’s best friend are secretly dating, until your sister spots a hickey and it all comes crashing down
warnings: flirty, swearing, little long
a/n: this is a cute request hehe!!, thank you for the request, love, enjooyyyy!! ❤️ feeding you all with niamhy content x
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you and your girlfriend, niamh had a funny start to your relationship, through mutual pining and endless amounts of flirting, you began to date secretly, until it was blasted out to your sister.
you were also a footballer, playing alongside your older sister your whole life. the fleming sister duo was relentless and everyone knew that, hence why clubs would offer you both package deals just have you under their belts.
and so, in 2020, you and jessie were offered deals as a winger and a midfielder for chelsea, both of you agreed.
your sister may seem shy but she was always the one that made friends first. it took you quite a while to warm up to new people, not because you had anything against them, it was just..difficult for you.
it was one of the main reasons you confided in your sister but she didn’t mind, you were best friends and she wanted to protect her little sister no matter what.
the first time you and jessie went to training, you were extremely nervous. you stayed back while jessie acquainted herself with everyone, one person she particularly took a liking to was niamh.
you were changing into your boots when someone plopped down on the bench next to you, you look up to see niamh looking at you with a bright grin. “hey, you’re (y/n) right?” she questioned, you nod and smile shyly at her. “hi, you’re niamh?” you ask softly, she nods back at you, mirroring your shy smile.
you engage in small talk, finding yourself extremely comfortable around niamh. jessie, also changing into her boots beside you, looks pleasantly surprised to see you making friends. throwing you a wink and a thumbs up when you glance over at her.
you could all tell you were going to be best friends.
one day during training, you and jessie pair up for drills. during a mini game, you and jessie are on the same team while niamh is placed on the other. niamh makes an effort to be the one marking you for the match.
the girls obviously knew of yours and jessie’s reputation but seeing the two of you work your magic on the pitch was intimidating even for them, they were glad to have you on their side.
everytime you got the ball, it was difficult, niamh was able to predict your every move and it got you frustrated. it was the fourth time she was able to clear the ball from you, and when she heard you groan she laughs.
“good thing we’re teammates after all this, huh, fleming?” she says cheekily, running beside you as you watch the other team get a goal when sam gets a hold of the ball.
“yeah yeah, charles, whatever” you tease, trying to shake it off before the next play started. whenever niamh would mark you, her hand would make its way to your waist. it made you nervous, it made you even more nervous that she’d see the effect she has on your poor cheeks but she does. and she loves it.
you smile when you see jessie and niamh joking around with each other, they were goofing off and play fighting when jessie yells your name, causing you to turn and smile amusingly at them. they had gotten so close in a short amount of time, it was incredibly cute.
“help your sister!” jessie pleads, niamh was fully on top of her and pressing her into the grass of the pitch, you laugh while shaking your head and drinking your water just watching.
“no, (y/n), don’t help your sister!” niamh laughs, looking up at you with a charming smile that made your stomach swarm with butterflies.
“jess, i can’t really do anything” you shrug, laughing at your sister’s expression of betrayal, suddenly, she whispers something to niamh that you can’t hear, they both look up at you with mischievous grins and you make a run for it.
“get her!” jess exclaims, both of the girls hot on your trail as you sprint as quick as you could away from them, dropping your water in the process that jessie quickly picks up.
niamh reaches you first, lifting you up off the ground causing you to let out a little yelp of surprise.
“sorry, she put me up to this” niamh says lowly in your ear, you were sure you were bright red at this stage. niamh places you on the ground and straddles your waist, pushing you into the grass with her hips as she held your hands with hers, smiling at you apologetically but also cheekily.
jessie then bolts over, squeezing the entire contents of your water on you and niamh. you both gasp in surprise, obviously the water was just meant for you. jessie laughs loudly, bending over and holding her stomach while you both look at each other, drenched and in shock.
niamh still above you, rips off her training top and chucks it at a now running jessie, she’s now left in just her sports bra. you look up at niamh with an unreadable expression, she laughs when jessie falls over before she looks down at you, mouth slightly agape when your eyes meet. “oh, sorry!” niamh exclaims, moving off you and holding your hands to help you up.
“it’s okay” you breathe out, now unable to look at her. niamh swears her heart stops when she sees you take off your wet shirt also, watching as you wring it out with a shake of your head. both of you walking together in just your sports bras and shorts has you both extremely nervous, both of you internally conclude you like each other.
when you both near the change room, you both try to get into the door at the same time but failing. you both laugh and niamh places a hand on the small of your back to let you go first. your skin burns under her contact, slightly disappointed when her hand leaves.
at yours and niamh’s red cheeks, jessie looks at you challengingly, narrowing her eyes at both of you. she quickly lets it go, there’s nothing there and she knows it. (silly)
at yours and jessie’s flat, niamh would come over quite often as she lived really close, hanging out in your living room with jessie. sometimes you would hang out with both of them, not missing the way niamh’s eyes would brighten when you would sit next to her. at this point, both you and niamh knew you liked each other, you were both waiting to see who would make the first move.
you and niamh would shamelessly flirt with each other, surprised your sister wasn’t at least suspicious about the two of you. she thought it was innocent and just the dynamic between the two of you. the tension was growing between the two of you and everyone knew it, except for jessie.
it was a random game day, all of you agreed to carpool in jessie’s car. when you arrived at niamh’s place, jessie told you to go and get her, you hesitated but nonetheless got out of the car and knocked on the girl’s door with a shy smile.
she opens the door with a bright grin, she winks at you before bending down slightly to catch a glimpse of jessie’s car. “i need five minutes!” niamh yells, jessie just nods and waves her off, scrolling on her phone.
niamh smiles and nods her head to her door, inviting you inside. “you look pretty” she says sweetly, closing the door after you enter.
you shake your head amusingly, giving her a light shove, “you’ve seen me look like this almost everyday, charlesy” you smirk, she laughs and moves slightly closer to you, “yeah i know, but you look really pretty” she challenges, you smile and move slightly closer to her as well, making her smile nervously.
“you look really pretty as well” you say shyly, niamh moves her hand up to pinch your cheek quickly, moving quickly to grab her kit bag from her room.
you wait by her door, smiling when she comes out from the room, “got everything?” you question, you watch as niamh opens her bag and gives it a quick glance before nodding.
she walks up to you with a cheeky smile and you narrow her eyes at her, “i need to do one more thing” niamh claims, you nod, “hurry up then” you place a hand on the strap of her bag and she tugs the bag forward, causing you to stumble directly into her arms.
you look up at her in shock, both of you pink in the cheeks at the proximity. she trails her eyes over your features before settling on your lips, looking at your eyes quickly. you nod and she smiles, closing the gap and kissing you softly, you lean into her, placing a hand on the back of her neck to keep her close to you, she moves her hand to your waist, pressing you against her as you share the kiss.
she pulls away with a quick peck, you giggle once you pull away.
“what’s so funny?” she teases, kissing your lips once more to stop your little fit of giggles. “the time you finally make a move is when my sister is waiting for us outside to drive us to a game” you lean up to kiss her again, she tries to deepen it but you push her away gently,
“you look so good, i couldn’t help myself” she retorts, tugging her bag over her shoulder and winking at you. “let’s go then, pretty girl” she smiles cheekily at you, placing her hand on the small of you back and directing you to the car.
after fighting about who should have the front seat, niamh begrudgingly settles in the front seat when you squeeze her bicep warningly.
“five minutes? that was 7” jessie groans, starting the car again and driving off. “didn’t realise you were counting, baby canada” you tease, jessie glares at you in the rear view mirror and you and niamh stifle giggles when she curses you under her breath.
niamh subtly moved her hand behind the back of the front seat, you move your hand towards hers and hold it gently. when your hands make contact, she squeezes it every so often, making you both smile.
when you arrived at the game, you and niamh would look at each other subtly, giving each other little heart attacks when you would touch one another. whether it was a hand on the arm or back, it would have you both extremely shy.
during the game, you were passed the ball from jessie, you work it upwards towards the goal and see niamh open, you make eye contact quickly before sending it to her, letting out a bright smile when she sends it to the back of the neck.
you can’t help but laugh when she bolts over to you and lifts you off the ground, you subtly kiss the top of her head when you cradle her head to your chest. it was quick but felt slow motion to you and niamh. the moment between the two of you was interrupted when your sister hugs you both, kissing your cheek affectionately before she claps niamh on the back.
when you and niamh get into the change rooms first after full time, niamh hugs you again tightly, kissing your cheek repeatedly making you laugh brightly. “you’re the best” she gushes, kissing your lips quickly before pulling away before anyone comes in. “you’re the best” you mock her accent, receiving a little shove from her when you laugh a bit too much at her look of shock.
jessie drives you all back to your flat, all of you collapsing on the couch exhausted. you and niamh huddle up under a blanket as you watch a movie, you were cuddled up into her side as she drapes an arm over your shoulder, your legs intertwined under the blanket.
jessie smiles at the both of you, before focusing back on the movie. (she’s clueless and both of you can’t believe it) niamh absentmindedly rubs her thumb on your shoulder as she pulls you closer, occasionally whispering in your ear and making you both giggle with each other.
at one point, jessie stands up and claims she’s going to bed, “night, see you at training, niamh?” jess asks tiredly, halfway near her room as she spoke. “yep, night!” niamh yells after her, waiting for her to close the door before turning to you with a big smile immediately.
“i think it’s too late for you to go home, niamh, i think you should stay here to be safe” you say shakily as she kisses your cheeks softly. she hums against your skin, “it’s half past eight, baby” niamh says teasingly, letting her lips kiss all over your face.
“and? half past eight is late, you can sleep in my room” you smirk, she giggles and nods, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, she cradles your jaw with one of her hands to keep you close to her, letting out a little gasp of surprise when your tongue swipes against her bottom lip.
at that, she quickly hoists you up on her waist, clumsily walking towards your room without breaking the kiss.
she closes your door gently and lays you down on the bed, pulling away breathlessly to look at you as she hovers over your body. you smile at her lovingly, her heart beats out of her chest. you both spend the night making out, the girl leaving a couple of marks on your body but you dismiss it, no one would see it anyway.
you woke up early in the morning for training, niamh sleeping soundly on top of you, her chest rising and falling as her arms are wrapped around your waist, head on your chest and your legs were tangled in the sheets.
you slot a hand through her hair, “niamhy” you say softly, smiling as she stirs. “niamh” you whisper, this girl needed to go home asap to get ready for training. “baby” you plead and suddenly the girl is wide awake, hovering over you with a smirk and kissing your lips quickly. “oh you little shit” you laugh when she parts from you, she squeezes your hips gently before getting out of bed, you let her out quickly, not before she pecked your lips repeatedly as you shoved her out the front door.
you get dressed for training and wait for jessie, “you’re up early” she says surprised when she walks into the kitchen. you shrug and hand her a protein shake, she takes it looking at your rare cheery self in the morning before grabbing her back and heading to the car. you were picking up niamh again.
when you pulled up to her place, jessie nods her head to the door and you excitedly get out to retrieve niamh.
when you knock on the door, it’s answered almost immediately, she grabs your hand excitedly and pulls you inside, yelling to jessie “give me 5 minutes!” again jessie waves her off and goes on her phone.
niamh smiles at you brightly before gripping your hips and pressing you against the door, kissing you sweetly. “hello, beautiful” she whispers against your lips, “hi, baby” you grin, pecking her lips quickly. she rushes to her room to get her kit bag, giving you a wave of deja vu. “got everything?” you smile, “no” she smirks and quickly kisses you, moving your lips with hers before she hastily pulls away.
“will you be my girlfriend?” she asks nervously, you grin brightly and nod your head, she pulls you closer and kisses you until you’re absolutely breathless.
slinging an arm over your shoulder while she opens the door and heads to the car.
training goes well, you pair up with jessie to keep her off your back, a few of your teammates caught the lingering looks and touches with niamh and smirked at you knowingly. it was clear everyone knew but your sister.
it was until all of you were in the change room and were getting changed to go home, you take off your training top and completely forget about your current appearance under the shirt. you hold your hoodie in hand about to change before you hear a fearful screech coming from your sister beside you.
“what the fuck are these?” she cries, staring at you chest completely bewildered.
niamh tenses from the other side of the room when she hears the scream, looking over at you nervously. everyone was watching you expectantly, “they’re bruises jess, they’re from the game” you laugh nervously, niamh looks between the sister duo nervously. jessie seems almost convinced until none other than sam kerr held her hand up for a high five at niamh, causing jessie’s eyes to widen, and causing you and niamh to sigh.
“niamh charles” jessie says angrily, niamh curses under her breath and shoves sam, but nonetheless moves over to you and jessie.
“hi” niamh breathes out, making you laugh but immediately stopping at the glare of your girlfriend and your sister.
“we were going to tell you, jess, it’s really fresh” you plead, holding niamh’s arms and pulling her close to you. “yeah i can fucking see that” she scoffs, referring to the marks littering your chest and neck.
“it’s serious, jessie, i really like her” niamh says earnestly, looking at you with an affectionate smile before settling back on your sister.
jessie looks at you both angrily before it fades into happiness, “this is good actually, if you get married, niamh will be my sister” jessie concludes with a shrug, you and niamh burn.
“jessie!” you yelp, hiding your face in niamh’s arm out of embarrassment, causing your girlfriend to giggle profusely.
jessie walks up to niamh, a serious expression on her features, “you hurt my sister, i hurt you, got it?” niamh nods understandingly, “never” she promises, smiling at your sister reassuringly when she claps her on the shoulder.
you and niamh have now been dating for over 3 years. jessie truly loved your relationship, happy to see her sister and her best friend so happy. you’d become a popular couple, people loving how your relationship was filled with love and laughs.
you and niamh brought out the best in each other and everyone saw that.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily magda!!
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liked by _jessflem and 44,232 others
niamhcharles17: easy to say i’m a fleming magnet
view all comments
yourname: a hot one too
↳ niamhcharles17: my pretty baby
_jessflem: we have beef, charles
↳ niamhcharles17: what!
↳ _jessflem: you stole the innocence of my dear sister
↳ yourname: it’s been three years! get over it!
↳ _jessflem: no!
↳ niamhcharles17: sorry jessie
↳ yourname: baby, don’t apologise
↳ _jessflem: buy me a coffee and all will be forgiven
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destinationtrekk · 2 months ago
Text
aftercare with wesker headcanons
a/n: he's taking over my brain like a parasite. i need him to kiss me sooooo bad and i'm 100% convinced he's the aftercare master
gn!reader, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but 18+ MDNI anyway
masterlist
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the very first thing he does when he finally pulls out of you is cradle your face and check on you
he's very mindful of your state the entire time you're having sex, or doing anything together really, but he likes to make sure the endorphins and adrenaline haven't overwhelmed you after you finish (probably for the third or fourth time, at least)
he immediately wipes you down as well, he knows you hate to be sticky and you get really cold when your sweat dries
if you want to take a shower instead, he goes in with you. even if you're perfectly fine, he still wants to stay close. he's addicted to the quiet intimacy you give him and he'll use any excuse to justify never leaving your side
he's a velcro-boyfriend lapdog basically
in the shower he'll do everything for you as well, washing your hair and rubbing soap all over you to clean you off
sometimes this leads to another round, but it's pretty rare. even in his spacious shower he's still just a little too tall to make the position work
he'll sit you on the bathroom counter and dry you off, using a clean towel and taking his time to touch every inch of you.
sometimes, when he's been really rough on you, he'll make you lay flat so he can check you out, make sure he didn't tear you anywhere and that you don't have any chaffing or raw spots. he's so gentle when he touches you then, his fingers feather light as he rubs lotion or ointment on your sore spots
he's such a caretaker, now that he has someone he wants to take care of
once when you first got together, you had shyly asked for one of his t-shirts to sleep in, and even now, years later, he still hands you a soft shirt from his side of the closet and the sight of you wrapped in his clothing makes his heart soar
he makes you lay down and tucks you in, hands stroking over your head and arms while you smile sleepily up at him
he always makes you eat something, even if it's just some crackers or cheese or even a few pieces of chocolate. ideally he wants you to eat something like a protein bar, but you rarely have the stomach for anything heavy
he also makes you drink water, an entire bottle. he'll watch you to make sure you finish it, whether you chug it or take a few minutes to drink it, speaking softly with him in the mean time
he makes sure everything is ready before he finally gets in bed with you, checking the doors and locking them and flicking lights off. he has a really hard time shutting his mind off, even when he's this tired and content, so sometimes it takes you sitting up and pouting for him to settle and get in bed
this is his favorite part - 100%. you're wrapped tight in his arms, face pressed into his neck and warm breath fanning over his chest. it makes his heart skip a beat, the way you melt against him like you don't have a care in the world
he can smell your hair like this, and rub his hand up and down your back and cup your head to pull you closer. he's making sure to touch you as much as he can, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces
you know he needs this just as much as you do. you make sure to thank him, to tell him what you liked and that you're grateful to have such a generous and kind partner to take care of you, and finally, that you love him
he appreciates it, every time, and hearing those three words from your lips (especially after he spent hours doing nasty, vulgar things to make you squirm and moan)
like i said he gets so deep in his head, whether it's before or after uroboros, and he really needs the reassurance that, after everything, you're actively choosing to love him
he tells you the same, that you were so good for him, so pretty and he adores you, and he loves you
he actually doesn't say he loves you very often. sometimes he's in his head and struggling with his emotions and the words are too much for him
he says them every time he's holding you like this though. not for himself, but to make sure you're happy and warm and comfortable and safe
you inevitably fall asleep on top of him, dead weight lax in his arms, and he's certain he's never been so happy in his life
226 notes · View notes
wildheartsalwaysburn · 1 year ago
Text
OP men taking care of their SO
Gn!Reader (I tried)
Characters: Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kid, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Corazon
CW: mentions of ED (starving, vomiting, overexercising), bad body image/body dysmorphia, cursing, SH, slight nsfw for Kid
Notes: I'm in a terrible mental state rn, kinda relapsing. OP hyperfixation fixes stuff so I decided to write some HC how they would act when noticing their SO is struggling with an ED.
Trafalgar Law
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he had a bad feeling about your eating habits a while ago
noticing you rush to the bathroom after every meal and "showering" excessively
but didn't mention cuz he knows to leave people alone (he's the same tbh)
it hit him during the monthly physical examination
he listens to your heartbeat and notice it being really low
"y/n, would you step on the scale?" he asks in a cold but also concerned tone
as he notices you getting anxious when standing in front of that thing, he sighs and puts a hand reassuring on your shoulder
"it's ok. I'm here. Just step on it, please." his voice still concerned but warm and soft
he looks at the low numbers in shock and takes you carefully from the scale before you can see the numbers
"y/n-ya. What's wrong?" he'll take your cold hands and sits right in front of you
if you break out in tears, he'll just sit there and hug you tightly, til you calm down by yourself
if you stay cold and stubborn, he'll get annoyed but also takes care of you
either way, you talk a lot and will make a rehab plan, he'll watch over you as much as he can
he won't miss a moment to show you how much he loves and cares for you
"you're the most beautiful soul I know, y/n-ya."
"I know it hurts, but I cannot lose someone I love dearly, again."
"We get through this, ok?"
all in all, he's a doctor and acts like one, but he'll support you whenever needed
Eustass Kid
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he notice during working out together
the last times you'd been skipping meals and even alcohol, working out without him even in the middle of the night
first he thought you'd simply want to get stronger than him and teases you daily
but on that day you've overdone yourself, your body can't take it anymore and you get dizzy and weak all of a sudden, letting the weights fall down with a thud
"y/n?! Fucking seriously?" he first yells at you (rule: never let weights fall down)
you sink on your knees, mumbling sth like you'd be fine
"Fine my ass!" he swears and lifts you up to carry you to his room
"what the hell are you thinking?!" he's clearly pissed
he'll put on his too big warm clothes and coat, still staring at you angrily
forces you to drink water and hot tea, he still stares at you
"so what the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?" angry, annoyed tone
when you start to cry, he's overwhelmed and feels bad not being able to help, so he just sits there and pets your head
when you glance back and pout/get angry you'll get into a fight and storms out throwing the door
just to come back and hug you tightly after finally understanding
his soft side comes out when you tell him you feel weak and ugly and fat
he laughs: "stupid girl/boy! you're the strongest pirate I know! and the sexiest! besides me"
if you don't or don't smile enough (which will be most likely the case), he'll just tower over you and wrap you up in his arms, roaming with his hands over your body and repeat how amazing you are
he'll get overprotective, remind you to eat enough through the day (sometimes forces you to)
He makes you different playlists to lift up your mood
also he'll seek help from Killer from time to time (but won't tell you)
Sanji
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He’ll notice when you stop joining to cook in the kitchen
Notices your rapid weight loss really quickly
Sits down next to you, lights up a ciggy and asks worried what’s wrong
Poor boy thinks it’s his fault
Eventually he’ll tear up and just hug you, telling you how much he loves you
“You can tell me everything, ma chère!”
You instantly felt understood and tell him
He’ll look at you in shock, not understanding how such a beautiful person can think of themselves like that
“But you are the most beautiful woman/man, I know, y/n-swan”
He cups your face and gazes into your eyes before kissing you softly
“We get through this, together. I promise.”
And he’ll make it true. He’s the most supportive boyfriend
Forehead kisses, reassuring soft hugs and touches, always keeping an eye on you
Spa Days, telling you every second how much he loves and adores you, would never force you but beg you to try his food at least
Makes the most delicious looking meals
Reads all about EDs so he won’t accidentally hurt you even more
Will hold you in his arms when you’re freezing or crying
Hides the scale
All in all the perfect man
Bartolomeo
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He’ll notice when following you to the bathroom after dinner
Already had a bad gut feeling about your bruised up and red hands
He holds them all the time so he knows their appearance by heart
“Y/n-chan? Are you ok? I’m here for you! Are you sick?”
Music plays from inside and the tab runs
When you came out after minutes, eyes swollen and red, hands wet and even redder than before you’ll earn a concerned look
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, y/n-chan.”
Weirdly sniffs and notices the smell of vomit
Eyes in shock and starts crying
“No no no no my dearest y/n-chan!! Please don’t tell me it’s true!”
Wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace, crying his eyes out
Overdramatic as fuck
Eventually taking your weak body to a quiet room, cleans your face and gives you something to drink
Will listen to each of your words really carefully to understand
Always pleasing you, always bring you water and tea, will not force but desperately beg to you eat something
Will accompany you to the bathroom any time, watching that you don’t hurt yourself anymore
Around you 24/7, will provoke and beat up everyone just trying to say something bad about you
Literally overprotective l, like a guard dog
Will try to lift your mood by telling stupid jokes and stories, tattle about Law and other “not cool non strawhats”, showing off his collection
Proud as hell every time he’ll make you laugh and forget that illness for a second
Corazon/ Rosinante Donquixote
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He’ll notice when picking you up as usual
“Y/n, you’re so tiny?!”
Shocked at first and lifts you even higher
Can’t believe you’re that light, you’ve always been to him, but now it’s different
Immediately throws you over his shoulder, covering you with his warm feather coat
“We’re going to a doctor, no back talk.”
His tone is stern but also warm and caring
Carries you to different doctors and hospitals, always holding your hand or thigh to show you he’s there
Will yell at anyone who says that can’t treat you
Throws literal tantrums at some doctors for being “incapable”
Will end up trying to fix and heal you himself
Showers you in love and care, eg bringing you water, tea, let’s you borrow his lighter to fidget with (even lend you his cigarettes if you smoke)
Will always smile at you and be more clumsy on purpose to make you laugh again
Will cook for you, whatever you want, burns it a few times by accident
Let’s you wear his clothes, when you feel bad about your body
Or wraps you up in them to get you warm
Will be extremely careful when touching, hugging or lifting you up
Afraid he’ll break you
Will inform himself about EDs to make the best of it
Never leaves your side, towering above or behind you, so no one can hurt you
Even lends you hit hat from time to time if he can’t be around for a moment, so you won’t feel alone
Gets sentimental when you sleep and he drinks, petting your head, sits right next to you talking about how beautiful and amazing you are
"I love you so much! You deserve everything in this world, my heart!"
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nishirikiluv · 3 months ago
Text
Twisted Love
Facing Reality
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pairings: yandere!jay x reader
chapter warnings: fear, drugging, kidnapping, threatening, restraints, noncon, choking, slapping, oral (f recieving), fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, Jay gets kinda mean at one point, please lmk if I've missed anything (also not proofread so.. if theres mistakes, look past it...)
a/n: took me long enough to post chapter 2... i don't know when i'll post chapter 3 but i'll try not to take as long as i did with this one
taglist: @bbyinthehouse
masterlist | previous | chapter 2 | next
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It had been about 2 weeks since you had that first awful dream about Jay. It would've been fine if it was a one time thing. But it wasn't. Every night you'd have the same dream. The details were a little different each time, but for the most part it was the same. It didn't make sense that they were dreams when they felt so real. Luckily, Jay seemed much different at work recently.
He joined your group's project at like he'd told you before, but he was acting so normal? He was the same man that chased you into the elevator, right? Regardless, it's relieving that he hadn't been acting that way anymore. Every interaction was strictly professional and work related, which relieved all the prior tension you had about the whole idea of having him in your group.
It was the end of the final meeting your group had for this project. One of the girls suggested you all go out for dinner together to celebrate. Everyone seemed excited so you felt awkward to decline going with them. Jay had a blank look on his face but still agreed to going. Something felt off, he usually wasn't very expressive but right now it felt different. You brushed it off deciding not to dwell on it too much.
Somehow you ended up in Jay's car on the way to the restaurant. The silence was deafening. You tried to get into someone else's car, or even just uber or walk but he insisted he drive you. He cleared his throat suddenly, making you jump in your seat. "We're here."
The two of you walked into the restaurant together, the rest of your co-workers waved you over. The dinner was nice, it felt relieving to just laugh and eat and drink with people.
Towards the end of the night you excused yourself to take a phone call, Jay's eyes couldn't seem to leave your figure as you walked away.
You finished the call shortly, only to be met by Jay right when you turned around. You were startled when he walked closer to you, backing you against a wall. Feels familiar. "Who was that?" The tone in his voice sent chills down your spine. "I-It was my broth-" He cut you off, not bothering to listen to your reply. He grabbed your face, his hand maneuvering your head, as if inspecting you. "You look like you haven't been sleeping well... is something... bothering you?" Obviously you weren't going to tell him about the dreams. You were so busy trying to think of an excuse that you missed the dark look in his eye. "No I just... stayed up late, working..."
He released his grip on your face, patting your shoulder. "You should be catching up on sleep then since today was our final day working on the project." I nodded in agreement. "Yeah... hopefully I can." He hummed in reply, his hand moving down to gently rub your arm. "Will you need a ride home today?" You had a bad feeling about the way he asked, instantly declining. "No!" You yelled without thinking, making him raise a brow. "No.. sorry, I just- I live close so... it's not necessary." He chuckled at the panic in your voice, "If you say so..."
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You arrived home, tossing your purse aside, along with your shoes and coat. You decided a shower was necessary so you gathered your things and headed to the bathroom. For some reason you felt the need to lock the door behind you, even though you live alone.
You stepped into the shower and instantly the warm water relaxed you, easing all the strain in your body.
A sudden thud outside the bathroom door broke you from your calmness. You shut off the water, quickly hopping out of the shower and dressing yourself. You heard the thud again, your hand hovering shakily over the doorknob. Did you really want to go see who or what that was? No. But you had to since it is your apartment. You unlocked the door only to find no one there. You checked every inch of your apartment finding nothing.
You plopped down on your bed with a sigh, holding your head in your hands. Is this was going insane felt like?
A clinking sound came from the kitchen right as you were about to lay down. "Didn't I just check in there..." you mumbled to yourself, getting up and slowly walking back over. Your eyes landed on a glass of water sitting on the counter. That wasn't there before. You walked up to it, lifting and inspecting the glass.
An arm wrapped around your waist, a knife coming up to your throat. You felt your blood run cold when a voice spoke. "Drink it." You trembled in his hold, "I-I don't want to..." He pressed the knife against your neck, the sharp end digging in slightly. Your soft whimper of pain made him sigh. The cut was only deep enough to draw a bit of blood. His intentions were to scare you, not kill you. "I wasn't asking. Drink it." The sharp pain left you in panic and you quickly picked up the glass with shaky hands, gulping it down as fast as you could. After a few seconds he felt your body go limp in his hold.
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Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It wasn't the usual dark room with white walls, you were sat in a bed with dim lights illuminating the room. Your arms were tied above your head to the bedframe by red ribbons. This dream is weirder than usual.
You watch the doorknob turn, revealing Jay. "My love, you're awake." He sit's on the edge of the bed next to you, caressing your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip as he admires the sight of you. "You look so beautiful like this... tied up... in my bed. Do you like the pretty ribbons I used? I thought they'd look great on you." He traced his fingers over the ribbons tied to your wrists.
"When is this going to stop..." You were saying it more to yourself rather than to him. His face twisted into a sinister smile. "When is what going to stop?" You shifted uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact with him. "These weird dreams..." His loud laugh echoed in the small room, causing you to jump slightly. "My love, this isn't a dream. How cute of you. It never has been."
"What...? Yes it was... I woke up in my room every time... and went to work..." He ran his hand down your body, letting it rest on your thigh. "That was a gift from me. I was being considerate. I knew how important that project was to you so I let you finish it, love. Now that it's over though, I get to have you."
"Y-You can't be serious-"
"I'm very serious. I would never joke around when it comes to you." He ran his hand up your thigh and it was just then that you noticed. He changed your outfit. Instead of your pajamas he dressed you in a short, all white, babydoll dress. Your eyes began to water and he could tell that if you blinked, tears would fall.
He cooed softly at your frightened state, petting your hair softly. "Don't cry, you can't be sad because you were made for me. I'm supposed to have you." He sounded so deranged, stating it so matter of factly as if that was supposed to ease your anxiousness.
Jay climbed over you, wrapping his hand around your neck and smashing his lips against yours. He squeezed your neck, causing you to gasp so that he could slide his tongue past your lips to taste every inch of your mouth. You made no effort to kiss him back, letting a few small tears slip down your cheeks. He wasn't happy with your non compliance. He pulled away to harshly slap you across the cheek, grabbing back onto your neck after. "Kiss me back before we have a fucking problem, love."
The look on his face was horrifying, it completely distraced you from the sharp sting in your cheek. He forced his lips on yours again and you, of course, kissed him back, fearful of what he might do if you didn't.
He pushed the dress up your thighs so he could squeeze the soft flesh. He parted his lips from yours, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. He burried his face in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. Jay slid his hands up your body, stopping along the way to squeeze your breasts over the fabric of the dress. You gasped softly when he pulled at the ribbon at the top of the dress, making it come undone so that your cleavage was exposed to him. "Fuck, baby, I've waited so long to have you like this."
All the alarms in your head rung in panic. Your body was still weak from whatever he put in your water earlier but you used the strength you had left to try and kick him away, desperately tugging at the ribbons that kept you tied to the headboard. Jay pinned your legs down with his hands, his fingers digging into your thighs. "Relax. If you don't stop struggling I'll have to hurt you. You don't want that do you?"
You quickly shook your head, a soft sob falling past your lips. He smirked at the sight, letting go of your legs to hike the dress up more. "Good girl." He pulled the top of the dress down under your tits, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips latched onto your nipple, his hand pinching and teasing the other before switching sides to give each one the same treatment. You whined, small tears dripping down your cheeks while you squirmed beneath his touches.
Jay pulled away from your nipple with a 'pop' latching his mouth back onto yours. "Your mouth tastes so good, I can't wait to see how good you taste here..." His finger slid underneath the thin fabric of your lace panties, pushing it to the side. He crawled down between your legs, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.
You were embarassingly wet for someone who didn't want this. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Look's like you want this as much as i do." You rapidly shook your head but nothing was going to stop him now.
He immediately pressed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking in between your folds. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibration sending a jolt through your body. Your whines only encouraged him to keep going. Jay latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard while he slipped his index finger into you making you gasp out. He lifted his head, groaning when he felt you clench around his finger. "You're so tight Y/n... can't wait to feel you around my dick"
"No no no no- Jay p-please don't!" He clicked his tongue. "You're saying no..." he slid in a second finger, "but you're gushing around my fingers right now..." you cried out, your head falling back. Jay chuckled leaning his head back in between your legs. "Wanna see you come, baby. Go on, don't be shy."
You gasped and writhed, trying so hard to hold back your orgasm. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making you come, you also felt appauled by the fact that your body was so turned on right now. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that had you squealing and your toes curling. "F-Fuck.." He doubled his efforts, fucking his fingers faster and harder into you. He was so desperate to see you fall apart to his hands. He began sucking on your clit again, making your legs tremble and forming the knot in your stomach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't have held back this orgasm. You came with a cry, your body shaking while a layer of sweat coated your skin.
The sight of your high was intoxicating to him. He wished he could have it on video to watch at every hour of the day. The way your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth hung open, your chest heaving with every little gasp and moan. He swore he could've come at just the sight alone.
He continued sucking and licking at your folds, making you whimper from overstimulation. When he pulled away you could see the remanings of your arousal on his lips and chin and you felt ashamed of yourself. He, however, was very pleased.
He wasted no time, unbuckling his belt and yanking his pants and boxers down, tossing everything on the floor. He made sure to slip on a condom and before you could fully catch your breath, or even register what he was doing, he plunged his length into you, splitting you in half. A pained moan left your lips as he thrusted relentlessly into you. He pulled your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle.
He could tell you were in pain so he rubbed your swollen clit, quickly turning all that pain into pleasure. You began to wet around him embarassingly fast. "You're disgusting, getting off on being used by the man that kidnapped you." His words ripped a sob from you. The sight of your tears made him groan and twitch inside of you. He picked up the pace, slamming into you so hard that your body moved up on the bed with each thrust.
The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, bed creaking, and the wet noises coming from your arousal. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing all your cries and moans. His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin. His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling your head back to give him better access. Jay lifted his head to watch the way your tits bounced as he slammes into you. He moaned at the view, cursing under his breath. He was close. But he didn't want to come yet.
He started to pinch and roll your clit in his fingers, wanting you to come again before he did. The sounds you made brought him so close to the edge and it took everything in him to hold back. He felt you clench around him and he used all his force to slam into just the right spot. "Come. Come on my dick." Your soft pants and gasps quickened as your orgasm approached quickly. Your orgasm ripped through you with an intensity that had your body going limp. Weak cries left your lips as your body convulsed from the white hot pleasure.
He thrusted harshly into your limp body, coming shortly after with your name on his lips. He continued moving inside you until he physically couldn't take it anymore, slipping his softened dick out and laying on his side next to you.
He admired your weak form, the way you'd already knocked out. He caressed your cheek softly, a contrast to his dark and possesive gaze. He pressed a kiss to your lips.
"Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow, all you're going to see is red."
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