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#i refuse to acknowledge them until the next game
bratbby333 · 6 months
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gamer!bf sukuna drabble
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·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·
gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something
gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner
gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)
gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)
"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"
gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)
gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset
"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard
"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming
"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"
gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)
he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)
gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms
"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."
gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go
"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"
gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first
gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat
"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"
gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game
"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎
i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here
thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡
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anastasiabowe · 8 months
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Can you do Akashi, Aomine and Kagami to reacting to their gf flashing them?? 🤭
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𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝘼𝙏 𝙈𝙀! — whenever your boyfriend ignores you, and won’t give you attention, you know exactly what will.
note: I literally didn’t know what to do sooo 😃
Content warnings: boobs, swearing, seduction..?, this is kind of a normal post so that’s a warning of itself, anything else 16+!
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★ — 𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜
Akashi scrolled on his phone as he was sitting on his gaming chair. He doesn’t usually play video games, but after the embarrassing list he faced a few days prior, this was his only escape. He cringed at the thought of losing, so he tossed his phone into the desk and pressed resume on the game he was playing.
You widened your mouth as you noticed he just ignore the text you sent because his ears must have stopped working. You continued to poke and repeat yourself as he just ignored you. He didn’t even flinch when you flicked his neck.
You frowned and an idea popped up in your head. You walk towards his chair, and pulled it back a little. Again he didn’t flinch or even blink towards the action. You stepped in front of him and lifted your shirt. He was about to yell at you until his eyes fell onto your chest.
“Wh-“ his eyes widened, and you smirked. You could feel the internal conflict ion on what he should do, that very much annoying you. He ended up turning off his controller quickly and throwing it off to the side. He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap.
You pulled your shirt back down, and he frowned. “So I have to show my tits just for you to acknowledge my existence?”
He looked at your face, and lifted up your shirt. He kissed your nipple, and smirked.
“Yes.”
★ — 𝗔𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘
Whenever Aomine is upset, everyone else must be miserable. Today, Aomine refused to speak to you. You ask him if he wants his favorite lunch, crickets. You ask him if he wanted to go out and play basketball with his friends who he was ignoring also.
All day you tried to convince him to speak to you, you made him food, did his laundry, organized his things, you even shined his basketball which he usually was grateful for yet he didn’t even bat an eye.
You sit next to him as he was laying on your bed scrolling on his phone. You honestly don’t know what will make him talk. You’ve offered to blow him, rub his feet, scratch his back, you got so desperate you styled his hair, which he also is usually grateful for. So you yourself poured, and repeatedly asked him to at least look at you.
“Aominichi!” He yawned, and continued to scroll. “Look at me, please!” He readjusted himself to where he was laying on his stomach. You felt defeated, he is a stubborn bitch. But then, you remembered, you had one more trick that should work.
You grab the hem of your shirt and lifted it up. You pulled your bra over too, and pulled them both off all the way.
“Aomine.” Your voice no longer had desperation, but amusement.
“Look at me!” You wiggled your boobs, and you saw his eyes quickly flick over your chest. After a little while, he turned off his phone, and finally looked at you. You smirked and he rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a perv, Aominichi!” You giggled
“Shut up!” He groaned.
★ — 𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜
Ever since the silly little fight Kagami and his brother had, he was upset at everything. He would get mad and scream at his door when it would open when he turned his key. He would groan extreme hard when he tripped on his own shoe. He would even scoff at you when you sneezed towards his way.
You obviously were sick of this little kagatude and he clearly didn’t give a single fuck. You tried to tell me him to chill out, or get a grip, but he would ignore you and act as if you didn’t exist.
He was laying on your shared bed, and you told him you were taking a shower, and if he’d like to join he could. You both never had taken a shower together. Actually, you both have never seen each other naked, so you though maybe he would be persuaded by that, but he wasn’t. You had taken that shower alone, and you were upset. He has been eager to see you makes more than you have, and you were the one holding back, so this was obviously very annoying.
You looked at your naked body in front of of the mirror, as you stepped out and you thought of a brilliant idea. You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body. Thankfully you didn’t need to wash you hair so this plan would be perfect.
You stepped out of the bathroom, and Kagami was laying on his back on his phone as the tv played a show he was watching. You stepped in front of the tv, and smirked.
“Hey, Kagami, look.” You dropped the towel, and Kagami for a sec didn’t look, but when he did, he sat up. You laughed, and he moved himself to the end of the bed. He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his growing boner.
“Crazy you would ignore me until now, what made you change your mind?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He chuckled. He kissed your lips, and his hands wrapped around your body, and pulled you closer to him.
You giggled as he kissed your neck down to your chest, he circled his tongue in your nipple, and bit it.
You pulled from him, and he chased you, but you pushed his head back.
“Glad I got your attention, but you don’t get to touch me anymore. You don’t deserve it.”
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nicksbestie · 5 months
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Next Level - M. Sturniolo
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Summary : the one where you just want your boyfriend to get off of his game, and he makes you a deal.
Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, pet names (baby)
Word Count : 3017
Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : idfk blame someone else for this
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You were potentially the most bored that you had ever been in your entire life.
Yes, you were being incredibly dramatic, but your boyfriend had ceased giving you attention and hanging out with you in favor of playing round after round on whatever video game of the day was pulled up on his monitor. It was so frustrating, and you were a clingy person, so that just made it worse. You had come over to spend time with your boyfriend, not to just watch him focus on something else. You had tried playing with him, losing multiple games, winning a couple, before you had gotten bored and moved to relax on his bed. You’d been quiet and patient up until about now, because you didn’t want to bother him, and you did love seeing him do things that he enjoyed, but you were starting to get annoyed. 
You abandoned his room in favor of going down to the kitchen to get something to drink, finding Chris and Nick sitting on the couch, some show playing in the background, and Nick was swiping through Snapchat stories on his phone. They already knew you were there, having spent time with both of them when you had arrived a few hours prior to now. You sat down with them both, opening the lemonade you had stolen from their fridge. You didn’t speak, also on your phone for a couple of minutes before Chris looked up, nudging Nick to get his attention.
“Do you think Matt will drive us somewhere? I want to go get a slurpee.” 
You laughed, responding before Nick could.
“He’s fixated on his stupid video game, I doubt he’ll want to go anywhere.”
“Is that why you’re down here and not up there with him?” 
You nodded, continuing to scroll through social media while the two brothers decided if they wanted to ask Matt or not. Finally, Nick turned to you.
“Can you go ask? He’s more likely to say yes to you than to us, and now that Chris has mentioned it, I want to get one too.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, but got up to go upstairs to ask him anyways, knowing more than likely your boyfriend would say no. Walking back into his room, Matt glanced up at you, looking back to his screen after acknowledging who had come into the room.
“Nick and Chris want to go get slurpees, they wanted to know if you would drive them.”
Matt shook his head, eyes never leaving the monitor, fingers never pausing their movements on his controller.
“Nah, I don’t want to go. Tell them to order an Uber or something.”
You sighed, sitting back down on Matt’s bed to text those words to Chris and Nick, not feeling like walking up and down the steps again for such a short message. After reading Nick’s response of a rolling eyes emoji, you threw your body back and laid down, exhaling deeply, waiting on Matt to pay you even a sliver of attention. You were tempted to leave, go get slurpees with the two other brothers, but at the same time, you really did love and miss your boyfriend. About fifteen minutes went by, and Chris texted you to let you know that they were leaving, asking if you were both sure that you didn’t want to come, and you replied saying that no, you two would stay here.
You only let about another five minutes go by before you waved a hand in front of Matt’s face, refusing to let him ignore you any longer. He pulled his headset halfway off, to where one ear was exposed, so that he could hear you.
“What’s up, baby?” 
You sighed, slightly pouting.
“You’ve been on that game forever, and you’ve been ignoring me.” 
Matt gave you a soft smile, standing up to kiss you before sitting back down. 
“Just let me get through one more level, and I’ll turn it off for the day.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning around to go sit back down.
“Sure you will.” 
He caught your wrist as you tried to move away from his desk, turning you back towards him.
“Hey, watch the attitude.”
He kissed the back of your hand, smiling at you.
“You’ve been waiting a while, I know. Nick and Chris have already left, right?” 
You nodded, confused at what his brother’s presence, or lack thereof, had to do with your current situation.
“Okay. So let me get through this next level, and I’ll go down on you until you cry. Deal?”
You couldn’t say that the suggestion that came out of Matt’s mouth didn’t affect you. It had been a little while since you and him had done anything, conflicts with filming and work, traveling, and when you were free, people were home. So sure, maybe part of your boredom and attitude was due to pent up desire, but who could blame you? There was only so much relief you could get on your own, and nothing compared to Matt’s skills. Matt noticed how your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks flushed, and an arrogant smirk crossed his lips. One of his favorite things was to go down on you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt the same about it. 
“I figured you would like that offer. Just this last level, okay?” 
You swallowed, nodding, pulling your arm from his grip and going back to laying on his bed. You picked up your phone, trying to appear unaffected, but Matt knew you better than that. He could see you in the reflection of the dark screen on the second monitor, and he could see you shifting how your legs were laying every so often, trying to ignore how the thoughts he had planted in your head were affecting you. He loved how easily he could work you up, something he had often taken advantage of, and he smiled to himself at how suddenly you had developed so much patience. 
Matt intentionally lost the level multiple times in a row, wanting to see just how far he could push your patience. He knew that you wouldn’t push him back, so he wanted to see just how needy he could get you to be. So he continued to lose, to set himself back, to find any way to make his promise take longer. He was enjoying watching you grow desperate way more than he should have, noticing you look up at him and his screen pretty much every thirty seconds to see if he had completed the level yet. The thought of what he was going to do to you was making him struggle to focus on the game, so he decided to stop intentionally losing and not make you wait for him any longer. This level wasn’t difficult, and it wasn’t long before he completed it, turning off his screens and removing the headset in favor of setting it on the desk. 
Turning around and getting out of the chair, Matt abandoned his desk, laying down with you and taking your phone out of your hand. You let him, both of you knowing that you hadn’t really been paying attention to it anyways. Excited to finally have your boyfriend’s full attention, you pulled him in for a kiss, it starting off gentle and sweet. He broke the kiss after a couple of seconds, smiling at you and used his hand on the side of your cheek and jaw to guide you into another one. There wasn’t any effort on your side to gain dominance of the kiss, Matt easily controlled it, deepening it and swallowing any sounds that left your lips, smiling against your mouth when you both paused to breathe. 
“I think I have a promise to make good on, don’t I?” 
You nodded, gasping quietly when Matt moved his kisses down to directly under your jawline, teeth gently tugging on the skin, enough to leave marks on you, but not enough for those marks to last longer than a day. The hand that had previously been on the side of your face was tangled in the back of your hair, gently pulling on it, moving your head to give him more access. It wasn’t long before he was hovering over you and had left a trail of blooming marks under your jaw and on your neck. Small whimpers were leaving your lips, and he kissed you, full of passion, enjoying the way you reacted to his movements. One of his hands gently caressed your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.
“Can I take this off?” 
You didn’t respond verbally, simply removing your hands from his hair and face to tug your shirt off, allowing him to help you. Matt’s hands immediately moved up to unclasp your bra, getting it off as quickly as possible, before moving to lay kisses down your torso. It seemed like he was somehow touching you everywhere at once, which you logically knew wasn’t true because he only had two hands, but you swore you could feel him on all parts of your skin. He moved a hand up to roll your nipple between two of his fingers, smirking at the loud whimper you let out, before moving his other hand down to the band of your sweatpants, silently asking for your permission for him to take them off. You lifted your hips, whispering your consent, sounds still leaving your lips because he hadn’t paused his ministrations, his mouth attaching to your other nipple, the attention on them both causing you to whine. 
He only stopped the movements of his hands to remove your sweatpants from your legs, but he didn’t move downwards. He moved back up to kiss you again, both of his hands holding the sides of your face. Using his leg to spread yours, he swallowed the loud moan that left your lips, as the shifting of his body had caused his knee to press directly against where you needed him most. He smiled against your lips, loving how vocal you were, increasing the pressure slowly until he felt you shift your hips downward to meet his leg. He removed his knee, hearing your whine of disappointment, moving his body down between your legs, using his hands to spread them this time, from where you had clenched your thighs around his knee. 
“Patience, baby, I’ll give you what you want.”
He left kisses and hickeys on your inner thighs, so close that you could feel his breath over your panties. When he was satisfied with the marks that he had left on your legs, he gently pulled them off of your legs, kissing even closer, smiling at the way that you pushed your hips closer to him. He took one arm and laid it over top of your hips, holding you down.
“Matt, stop fucking teasing.” 
He shook his head at the attitude in your voice, but he knew you wouldn’t be giving it to him for long. He kissed right above your clit before giving in, his tongue beginning to form small circles on it, and he could have cum on the spot when he heard the shaky breath that left you at the feeling of relief after having to wait so long. He alternated the amount of pressure he was using, before pulling off completely and moving to lick a stripe from your entrance back up to your clit, loving the way that your thighs clenched around his head. He pushed them back open before attaching his lips to your clit, gently sucking, causing your hands to tug harshly on his hair as you let out moans and whimpers. He tried to remove his face from between your legs, but you pushed him impossibly closer, and instead of fighting you, he simply formed tight figure eight motions with his tongue on your clit.
By this point you were so wet, and Matt’s mouth and chin were covered in the evidence of your arousal. He always ate you out like he was starving, and it was always messy, but you never complained. How could you, when it gave you some of the best orgasms you’d ever have? You could feel it starting to build in the pit of your stomach, and it only became more intense when Matt ran two fingers through the wetness between your legs before easily pushing them into you, expertly curling them. He knew your body like the back of his own hand, so not only did he know that you could take two at once, he knew exactly where to move and where to press to have you squirming. 
His ministrations were confident, and you were predictable, your head immediately going back the second that his fingers curled perfectly, him only being able to see the white of your eyes while his tongue and fingers caused your thighs to shake around his head, your climax building quickly, and Matt could tell, just from the noises you were making and the way you were clenching around his fingers. He pulled his mouth off, increasing the speed of his fingers, kissing you roughly before speaking.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” 
“Matt, fuck, please-” 
He placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight circles with a firm amount of pressure, adoring the way that your back arched now that you were no longer being held down.
“I know, baby, I know.”
He replaced his thumb with his mouth, the suction sending you off into space. He could hear your moans getting higher in pitch, and your thighs were clamping around his head. Your hips were bucking against his face, your eyes screwed shut as his free hand reached up and applied pressure to your lower stomach, and that was it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, jaw hanging open in a loud whine, Matt not stopping any of his movements as he pleasured you through your high. He stopped when your breathing began to stagger roughly, kissing you sweetly as you panted against his lips. He kissed you until you calmed down, until your chest stopped heaving, and then he ran his hand back down and gently drew slow circles on your clit, kissing your forehead as you whined and tried to bat his hand away. 
“I can’t, too much.” 
He just gave you a pitying smile, not moving his hand. If anything, he picked up his pace, listening to you whimper against his neck.
“Oh, but I promised you’d be crying, baby. I have to make good on that, don’t I?” 
You couldn’t formulate a response, just a low whine leaving you as he added more pressure. 
“You can give me one more.” 
And with those words, he went back to having his head between your thighs, his fingers on his free hand gently tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs. You were so sensitive, not ever having been one for overstimulation, but the incredible pleasure that rolled through your body overwhelmed every small spark of pain, causing you to not want Matt to stop after all. Being so sensitive, you were so much more reactive, and when Matt pulled the same move of curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud sob, and you could feel another orgasm beginning to build. It was much quicker than the last one, but with Matt absolutely assaulting your clit, and his fingers roughly massaging that perfect spot inside of you, you knew you would never be able to hold it off. 
The oversensitivity caused tears to build in your eyes, and you got to the point of desperation that you were attempting to ride Matt’s face, hands tightened in his hair again, keeping him pushed up against you, chanting his name like a prayer as you tipped over the edge for a second time that night. Matt did the same thing that he did the first time, working you through your orgasm, and it was the added stimulation paired with the unbelievable high you were already on that caused tears to stream down your face, eventually pushing Matt away from you when it got to the point that you couldn’t handle it anymore. He knew when it was too much for you, and he pulled off, the fingers that had just brought you to your finish now in his own mouth, and if you could go again, you would have at just the sight. 
It didn’t take Matt long to pull you into his arms, wiping the remnants of tears off of your face. He didn’t move you too much, but he helped you drink out of the bottle of water that had been on his nightstand. You laid there, still slightly out of breath, enjoying the close company of your boyfriend and the gentle kisses he was pressing on the top of your head. It wasn’t until Matt adjusted his body slightly against you that you realized he was still hard.
“You didn’t-.”
He didn’t even humor the statement, cutting you off by just shaking his head and holding you against his chest.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got my full attention, baby. I’m fine.” 
The soft aftercare that Matt always gave you was top tier, complete with food, a warm bath, and endless cuddles. He always spent a lot of time making sure that you were completely taken care of and felt okay before he even thought about himself. Checking Matt’s phone, you noticed a text from Chris that had come in thirty minutes ago, letting you know that they had decided to stop at another store before coming home. Neither of you replied, but you both assumed that meant you didn’t have much more alone time left. So Matt helped you back into clothes, knowing that you were tired, and you ended up dressed in an entire outfit of his.  The two of you weren’t even awake when they got back, falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s presence.
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crguang · 4 months
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wasted with longing
You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.
friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words
A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3
part two
this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH
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You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.
Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.
You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.
The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.
“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”
As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.
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You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.
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You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.
You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.
You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.
You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”
Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”
You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.
“You got rid of the painting?”
You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.
“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.
“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”
“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”
Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.
“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”
You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.
“I don’t remember that.”
“No?”
She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.
“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.
You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”
Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.
Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.
“Someone’s happy to see me.”
Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”
“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”
“Were you counting?”
“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”
“Yeah?”
Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.
Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.
“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.
You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.
“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”
A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.
Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.
“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.
She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”
Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.
Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.
“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”
There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.
“W-What?”
“Did you miss me this much?”
Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.
“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”
“You w— Hah—!”
She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.
“I missed you.”
You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.
You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.
“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.
Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”
To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.
“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”
You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.
“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”
She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.
You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.
“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”
You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.
Kafka doesn’t text the next day.
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girlokwhatever · 4 months
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✵✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⊹ ⋆。˚⋆ she loves me, she loves me not,,
part one ; beginning of the end
next part
paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)
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you didn’t care when you found out your ex got a new girlfriend. you were completely over her and her antics, realizing in the last few months of your relationship how utterly exhausting it was. it wasn’t until you found out that her new girlfriend was the girl she cheated on you with that you cared.
it was stupid really, the whole situation. your ex girlfriend, bianca, cheated on you whilst out at a party, you hadn’t gone, opting to instead watch one of paige’s home games with her team. you met paige your freshman year, instantly growing an inseparable bond with her. she was absolutely your closest friend, much to bianca’s disliking. you chopped it up to the fact that bianca wasn’t a fan of any of your friends and left it at that.
when bianca tried justifying her cheating on you because of your close relationship with paige, it took you off guard.
2 MONTHS AGO
you were waiting for your girlfriend to show up. your heart was racing and your breath uneven but honestly, it was long overdue. it had been months since you actually shared a happy moment with bianca, easily able to find more enjoyment in your friends.
you’d found out from a close friend that she had cheated on you at least once, maybe more. your friend spotted her at a party with a girl, kissing and grinding on each other. it was all making sense to you now. the way she was almost too close, too clingy. as if she was overcompensating for a mistake. a huge mistake.
“babe? what’s up?”
“why’d you fuck another girl at a party two weeks ago?”
she went silent, eyes wide with shock. her face spoke for her, affirming that what you thought to be true actually was. even though your relationship had been rocky, especially towards the end, it still broke your heart. she was your high school sweetheart. she even committed to uconn just for you.
it meant fuck all now.
“don’t act like you’re so innocent, princess.”
she doesn’t even try to deny it, immediately spitting back at you. you’re not even sure what she’s referring to, but it looks like she believes it.
“what are you talking about?”
“really?!” she scoffs, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i know about you and paige, how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”
“are you fucking dumb?! paige and i are just friends bianca! oh my god- even when you know you’ve done something wrong you can’t admit it.”
you were walking around the corner of the counter when she grabbed you hard. her aggressive behavior was nothing new, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. part of you was wishing it would work out, but a greater part of you was glad she’d finally pushed you over the edge.
“let go of me and get the hell out.”
“excuse me?!”
“i said, get the fuck out, and don’t fucking come back.”
PRESENT DAY
you, paige, and some of your mutual friends were out at your favorite bar. it was a friday night and none of you had anything better to do.
you’d done some rotations: drinking, dancing, singing, sitting down, dancing again, but now you were back to sitting. you took a seat next to paige and she was thankful for that, but you hardly acknowledged her.
after bianca’s excuse for cheating on you being your close relationship with paige, you had distanced yourself considerably. you stopped showing up randomly to her dorm and practices, stopped calling, and stopped asking to hang out too. paige knew you and bianca broke up and kept telling herself you were just trying to get over that. occasionally she’d reach out to ask you if you were doing okay, sometimes it’d take you more than a day to answer.
it hurt paige more than it should’ve and she knew that. for years, ever since she’d met you, she’s had feelings for you. even when she tried to avoid them, you were all she could think about. it was difficult considering you had a psycho girlfriend that you refused to let go of until recently. even now that you were single it was no use, not if you were going to treat her like she didn’t exist.
you hadn’t noticed bianca and her new girlfriend walk in, too enamored by the bubbles in your drink. paige noticed though, watching the way your ex’s eyes scanned the room. paige looked away before she got caught staring, settling her elbows back on the bar.
“have you been having a good night?” paige asked just to get some conversation flowing with you. she missed being so close to you, even if she knew she always wanted more. she’d rather settle for a friendship with you than have nothing at all.
“s’been good. might go home soon though,”
“want me to take you home princess?” it was a teasing nickname that she called you, an old inside joke. when bianca heard it she decided to start calling you that too unironically, completely unaware of the joke.
“i think-”
“princess.”
bianca’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a sharpened knife, offering a completely different tone than the way paige said it. her new girlfriend must’ve run off somewhere, seeing as it was only her that had approached you. she took the barstool next to you, sliding her chair to face you. she looks unimpressed and expectant, not surprised to see paige lingering by your side.
“i need to talk to you.”
“talk to your new girlfriend. y’know, the one you cheated on me with.”
“she’s not my girlfriend” —another toxic lie “i just want to talk to you.”
“no.”
“princess-”
“fuck you.” you seethe out a her, hoping it’s enough to keep her quiet. unfortunately though, it isn’t.
“don’t talk to me like that.”
you try avoiding bianca, turning to paige and muttering a quick ‘can we go.’ it’s difficult to hear you but she does, standing up and pushing her chair in. bianca loathes paige, always has. as soon as you met paige all you wanted to do was talk about her, hang out with her, study with her, and bianca couldn’t stand it.
“and you tried calling me dumb when i found out you two were hooking up behind my back,” she scoffs as if it’s obvious.
paige’s eyebrows knit in confusion, you never mentioned that part. paige doesn’t know what made bianca think that, but she secretly wishes there was some truth to it, as bad as it may be. even when doing something she knows is wrong, paige has never regretted a second spent with you.
you knew you were probably too drunk to make a decision this big. as soon as the thought popped into your head you favored it, wanting to get back at bianca for all she put you through. you didn’t even give it a second thought, your mouth running faster than any of your cognitive abilities at the moment.
“guess you were right, but hey— she treats me better than you ever did.”
both bianca and paige are shocked, completely taken aback by your statement. what were you getting at?
“so what- you’re dating now?”
“yep. thanks for helping me realize i could do so much better.”
before you have time to show your fleeting confidence and the fact that you just lied straight through your teeth, you grab paige’s hand and walk off. you’re honestly not sure how she’ll react or how you’ll move from here.
either of you say a word until you’re in the silent safety of her car. she turns to face you, a blank expression written across her face. it makes it difficult to figure out what’s going on in her mind. you wish you could tell, it’d probably make things easier. you can tell that she’s a bit flustered, but maybe that’s just because of how hot it was inside.
“paige?”
“yeah?”
“i know this is probably going to be a really weird question and maybe the question itself is too late because i’ve already dug us into this hole but i swear you don’t have to go through with it..”
“okay..”
“will you, um.. will you be my fake girlfriend?”
she’s conflicted, torn between her better judgement and overall feelings for you. her body surges with anger at the way bianca talked to you tonight. but her body also swells with pride and attraction after hearing you say those things about dating her, even if she knows it’s not real. she wants it to be real so desperately and she’s knows she’s already made up her mind without needing to think it through.
one hand is on the steering wheel and the other drags itself down her face, questioning internally if she’s really going to go through with this. her silence settles on you, panic rising as you realize maybe you’ve just ruined your friendship. or what was left of it.
“you can say no obviously-”
“i’ll do it.”
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆﹥*:ꔫ:*+゚ׂׂૢ
UMMM i’ll spell check this tmr
I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
i kinda don’t.
THIS IS A SERIES YALL
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580 notes · View notes
euphoricfilter · 6 months
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HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about
"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs
just friends:
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pairing: yoongi x gn! reader
genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au
summary: maybe you were never just friends
word count: 1.2k
tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart
notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D
drabble masterlist || all my other works
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.
You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.
You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.
But Yoongi had been different.
It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.
Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.
Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.
In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.
Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.
Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.
But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.
Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.
You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.
And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.
That was until tonight.
It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.
And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.
You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.
“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.
“Because you don’t like m—”
He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.
“Don’t finish that”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”
He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.
“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”
He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.
You nod.
“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”
You swallow.
“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”
The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”
“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”
You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.
“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.
“Whatever you want” he reassures.
“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.
He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”  
You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”
He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”
“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.
“Then I’ll give you a kiss”
“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”
He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”
You chew on your bottom lip.
“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.
“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”
“But—” you worry.
“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”
Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.
“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.
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adoregojo · 7 months
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mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s
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i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.
warnings: some cussing ig?
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nagi was never that charming.
'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.
even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.
so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.
and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.
at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.
and things switched around when you came to the picture.
first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.
slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?
it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.
maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.
then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.
for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.
Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.
perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.
possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.
you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.
and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.
so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....
so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.
STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!
so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.
he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.
"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.
the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.
and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.
"go out with me."
so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.
although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.
what a great timing.
after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.
huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).
20 points!
STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!
nagi really wasn't the best at this.
instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?
it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.
nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.
"nagi.. you're staring too much."
the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?
nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.
"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.
your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.
"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.
nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."
"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."
he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.
you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.
50 points!
STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!
third time's a charm, right?
however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.
so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.
maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.
it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..
not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.
plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?
"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.
that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.
at least he did something good that night?
70 points!
STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!
after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it
but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一
wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?
you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一
now that you did not expect.
it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.
"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.
he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.
but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.
but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.
"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.
you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..
but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..
every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.
"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.
"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."
nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.
nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.
you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.
you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.
you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.
nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.
80 points!
FINAL STEP: kiss.
the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.
"can i kiss you?"
was he trying to kill you?
you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一
"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"
"seishiro."
"eh?"
"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.
"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.
maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.
and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.
limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!
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httpswritings · 7 months
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The coffee shop — The Sextet x Reader 
Warnings: none
Word count: 860
Summary: Spending the afternoon with The Sextet.
“Hi Alexia…”
Alexia looked up and, forcing a shy smile, she greeted you. 
It wasn't like she didn't like to acknowledge people who approached her, but her usual facial expression used to mistake her shyness for annoyance, therefore she had to try to look more friendly when people approached her.
You had been following women's football for a while so you were briefly familiar with Alexia's shyness, being quite shy yourself helped you understand her behavior better.
“Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for a picture. I just wanted to give you a bracelet. There's another one for Misa, can you give it to her? I apologize for not having any other for the rest of the girls, though.”
The truth is that you weren't expecting to bump into Alexia when you entered the coffee shop, so you had to improvise a quick gift, only having two golden bracelets around your left wrist.
Alexia analyzed them carefully, her face showing a more relaxed expression and a sincere smile. She wasn’t familiarized with receiving gifts from fans as much as she was asked to take a picture with them.
“Thank you. It's beautiful. Are you sure you don't want to take a picture?”
Deeply inside, you knew the answer to her question, but still refused to make her uncomfortable. 
“No, it's fine. Just tell Jenni everyone is really proud of her and of how she stood up for herself.”
“I'll tell her. Thank you for your words.”
You said goodbye and turned around to exit the coffee shop, your embarrassment making you feel uneasy and no longer wanting something to drink, but then she called you.
“I was wondering if you could wait with me for around half an hour. The girls are coming over here to spend the afternoon.”
As she noticed your eyes widening, Alexia made sure to emphasize that it was up to you and there was no pressure to accept her offer. 
There was nothing more you wanted to do than spend the afternoon with them, but you were afraid of bothering the friend group as an intruder.
“Do not worry about that! We're all pretty friendly. Misa and Jenni will probably tease you a little bit, but that's not new coming from them.”
You finally accepted the invitation and sat down next to Alexia, who was probably telling the girls the new member of the group for this afternoon.
You were playing with your hands as Alexia left her phone on the table.
She noticed how shy you were and for a moment, she saw herself in you. 
Your hand holding onto the other, your inability to hold eye contact for more than five seconds, your nervous giggles and your short answers followed by a soft smile. 
There was a brief moment of silence between the both of you, but it was enjoyable.
Tranquility filled the coffee shop until you laughed looking at each other after hearing loud voices approaching your table. 
“And we're heree!”
“We could tell. You guys are so loud.”
You giggled, and all eyes were on you, making you blush uncontrollably.
The girls began to introduce themselves, so did you when they approached you. 
You instantly felt calmer when you sat next to Laia, who shared a similar personality with Alexia when she was not eager.
Alexia followed you and sat next to you.
Misa teased Jenni by placing her cold hands on the older woman's cheeks.
“Misa, colega! (dude)”
Everyone was laughing but Alexia, who was sighing with her hands over her head.
“You both are insufferable.”
An hour passed by, and you felt more comfortable and confident to speak. 
“We still have time until we have to return to Mordor. Let's do something fun.”
Mariona explained to you that they referred to the headquarters of the Spanish National Team as Mordor. 
“Tonight, there's a cool match we could attend in th—” Misa tried to suggest, but she was quickly caught off by almost everyone on the table.
“Misa, we're not going to a Real Madrid's game. Don't even try it,” Irene said.
“C'mon! What do you want to do then? It's not like we have curfew anymore.”
As almost everyone refused, Misa's eyes were on you. 
“What about you? Do you want to come with me?”
Alexia was quick to stop her.
“No, she doesn't. She's spending the rest of the day with everyone, not only with you.”
“Well, if you guys don't suggest anything else we could do, maybe she wants to accept my offer! We're probably boring her.” 
Laia, who was probably the most serene person around you, asked the golden question.
“What's your favorite team? Because maybe she's a Real Madrid fan, and we're here clipping her wings off.”
You noticed how everyone was looking attentively at you, waiting for your answer.
“You guys have scared her, c'mon! Was it that difficult to behave?”
You never felt as reassured by a “stranger”, as you were by Laia, who you thanked her with a soft smile. 
“I'm actually... I'm actually an Atlético de Madrid fan...” you announced, as you couldn't stop laughing at their shocked faces. 
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Text
Wicked Games 11
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Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The glut of tears drains you until you’re forced to sleep. You do so heavily. Your head thrums even through your unconscious and you wake up in no better condition than you dozed off. 
You stay as you are, curled up on one side, and arm clutched the edge of the bed, refusing to acknowledge him. That won’t last. You look around the room that takes you back to that first morning after. A similar disorienting waves washes over you. 
You feel the change. Maybe now that you know the reason why, the symptoms only seem more intense. Your stomach is hollow but uneasy and you’re achy to the bones. And the fatigue. You can’t shake it. You feel like you could sleep for days and still be tired. 
Cautiously, you roll onto your back. You’re alone. He’s not in the bed but he’s there. The muffled clink of dishes assures you of that. You flinch as your heart gives a start. 
You sit up but refuse to get up. Standing up and walking out that door means this is real. It means you have to accept that it is and you’re not stupid enough to believe that won’t happen. You just need this moment to think. 
Barrett is dead. Your old life is over. Your job, your apartment, even your old body. Steve laid it all out. You’re going to quit or he’s going to get you fired. You’re going to have his baby or he’ll... you don’t know? Would he do the same thing he did to your husband? If you don’t have a reason for him to keep you alive, are you just expendable? 
You should be braver. You shouldn’t care. The grief is so gray but gripping that you should want it to be over. Who cares, I’d rather die than live like this. But that’s not true. The thought of death makes you nauseous. Or is that the baby? 
You lurch up to your feet and cup your hand over your mouth as you stagger around. You blink and find your way to the ensuite bathroom. You curl over the toilet and hurl into the bowl. You grip the edge of the counter and the seat as your body racks violently. 
Your stomach keeps squeezing even as there’s nothing left. Your bones feel like they could snap and your throat burns with acid. You collapse to your knees and hug the porcelain. Every now and them, you wretch but can’t even spit up bile. 
Exhausted and panting, you reach to flush, but stay hovering over the toilet water. This is horrible. Like any woman, you’ve heard of the horrors of morning sickness but this seems so much worse. 
“Sweetheart,” Steve’s shadow appears in the doorway. You sigh and turn your head to see him. He marches across the tile and comes to bend over you. You flinch as he rubs your back. “You okay? Rough morning , huh?” 
You grumble. That’s all you can do. Worse than being in this place that isn’t your own, your body doesn’t feel like yours. It’s as if every part of you is revolting. 
“Here,” he hooks his arm around you and stands you up. 
Your legs are weak as you lean on him. He flips down the toilet lid and sits you on it. You groan and hug your stomach. He draws away to open the cabinet behind the mirror. He takes out a packaged toothbrush and unwraps it. He puts toothpaste on the bristles and hands it to you. You accept it as he fills a white plastic cup with water and slides it across the counter. 
You scrape out the taste of vomit and brush your teeth until your headache is a siren. You stand to rinse and he takes the brush back, placing it in the holder next to his. He coos as he touches your hip and urges you out of the bathroom ahead of him. 
“Come on, I got everything ready for you,” he declares proudly. 
You bristle in wait of the true him. Those tones he growled through last night. That dangerous timbre you can’t argue with. This feels like a facade. Too soft, to nice. He’s playing out some script and you never got a copy. 
The couch has extra pillows and the coffee table has a small lap desk stood on it, a bowl of oat meals and a cup of layered yogurt and fruit, alongside a tall glass of a vibrant smoothie. He points you to sit and you do so only to make your body stop screaming. 
As you get settled, he moves the lap desk over you. 
“At least you’re small enough to use this still,” he chuckles as he stands back. “Oats with cinnamon and blueberries, yogurt with strawberry and chia seed, and a smoothie with lots of extra vitamins. Oh--” he storms away, leaving your speechless. Well, what can you say? 
“Supplements,” he sweeps back in. “The iron won’t help your stomach but the B-6 should. You can try ginger with tea if you still feel off. We’ll hold off asking the doc for medicine but we’ll make sure he gives you the once over.” 
“I already went to a doctor--” 
“My doctor,” he insists as he sets down the little tray of vitamins. “He knows what to watch for.” 
“What to watch for? What--” You wince as your hips pang and your stomach churns again. You tuck your hand down over your middle and force out a breath. 
“Well, I have enhanced biology. When they created the serum, we were at war. They never tested it on pregnant women,” Steve explains. 
“Huh? Serum?” You stammer. 
“The fetus.” He sits lightly beside you and reaches to rub your shoulder. “They assume there would be some effect.” 
“They assume?” You shake your head. 
“Don’t worry, you only have to deal with Bruce. He’s a good guy.” Steve explains. 
You look down at the food. Your nausea blows away like shifting winds and a storm of hunger rises in you. It’s so overwhelming you have the urge to grab the bowl of oatmeal and gulp it down from the brim. Instead, you take the spoon and raise it shakily. 
“We’re gonna do this together,” he coaxes as he caresses your arm. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t ask for anyone stronger to carry my child.” 
That should make you sick but the hunger is too much to ignore. He keeps touching you as you eat. You're so intoxicated by each bite, you hardly notice. More, more, more. Your stomach mulches greedily with each swallow as the world narrows simply to the smell of cinnamon and tartness of blueberries. 
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
band!eddie and reader finally having some alone time in the tour bus *wink wink*
18+ rockstar!eddie universe <3
It was one of those rare occasions where the rest of the band wanted to go out and you wanted to stay in. There hadn’t even been a show that day, just interview after interview after interview. It left your social battery at an all time low. So when Jeff and Gareth wanted to barhop the night away, you lamented that you were way too tired to accompany them. 
And Eddie, being the nice guy he was, opted to stay in with you. “Someone’s gotta make sure the lady stays safe. Wouldn’t want someone to steal ya,” he’d half-joked.
You scoffed. “Because, god forbid, you lose your bassist, right?”
“Well, if I lost you, I think I’d die, but…  yeah, having to find a replacement would definitely be more emotionally taxing.”
Eddie Munson was the only person in the world who could rival your sarcasm. It was so easy for the both of you to cover up a sweet thing with something so playfully sour. The boy finishes his quip with a stupid, lovedrunk grin that nearly makes you melt. 
“Obviously,” you retort.
The rest of the boys disappear for the next several hours, enough for the sun to have set and stars to sprinkle the sky. If you had to guess, they’ve probably got a running bet on how many bars they could get free drinks from. It’ll go on until they can’t see straight anymore, no winners or losers — unless you count your manager, who’ll no doubt have to escort them back to the bus. 
With them gone, the bus is practically silent for the first time all tour. There is no boyish yelling or tuning guitars or video games. There’s not even the muffled sound of tires on gravel with the tour bus parked. It’s total silence filled only with the faint sounds of Charlie’s Angels coming from the common area. The episode is practically on mute, though, because Eddie knows you’re tired and doesn’t want to disturb you.
The soft quiet ushers you into its velvet arms. It almost lulls you to sleep several times over, but something in the back of your mind refuses to let you slumber. You were annoyed at first. You were squirming in your tiny bunk for nearly an hour until you realized you were filled with a need of a different kind.
You didn’t need sleep. You needed Eddie. Like a child needs their baby’s blanket — you can’t be without him for too long, or you might start screaming. The sudden ache to be close to him hits you like a freight train.
The sliding door of the bunks glides open with a mechanical schlick. You lean against the frame of it, clad only in a too big shirt that probably belonged to all the boys before it got to you, and admire your boy in his element.
He’s all spread out on the leather couch, curly hair untamed and in a messy chestnut halo on his head. He wears a piece of outdated Corroded Coffin merch from back when you only played gigs at The Hideout. The shirt clings to his torso while a pair of old pajama pants hang low on his hips.
Eddie’s eyes are firmly trained on the small television in the corner of the bus. The chocolate of them dart around the screen as Farrah Fawcett turns flips beneath a shoddy cable service. He barely acknowledges your presence, too engrossed in the climax of his show.
“Thought you were sleeping,” he says without looking at you.
“I’m too bored to sleep,” you practically whine. 
Your feet shuffle along the carpeted floor as you walk the short distance to him. You all but flop onto the couch at his side, burying your face into the warmth of his neck.
“What do you mean you’re too bored to sleep?” he mocks with a soft laugh. He turns to press his lips to your head, not exactly kissing you there, just resting against you. His words are muffled: “Why didn’t you go out with Jeff and Gareth?”
“Didn’t want to,” you answer shortly.
“Solid answer,” he nods. “What do you wanna do then?”
He doesn’t necessarily mean it suggestively. He’d probably go lie in traffic if it’d make you less bored, he loves you so damn much — but fuck if a million dirty things don’t pop into your head all at once.
It’s practically the first time you’ve been alone all tour. 
Now that you think about it, every time you’ve fucked Eddie, it’s been at the discretion of prying eyes just behind a door or in a room over. Hotels are few and far between, and you and your boys are the tightest clan the universe has ever seen, so it leaves little room for opportunity time for you and Eddie.
But here you were now, with no one around, and practically all the time in the world (or rather, until sunrise, when the rest of the band shuffled back onto the bus).
“I don’t know,” you lilt, though you’re already hooking a leg over his thighs.
Eddie feels like a teenage boy all over again as you settle onto his lap. A wide grin tugs slow at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. “What are ya doin’, doll?”
“Nothin’,” you shrug, feigning innocence, like you’re not slipping your fingers through the hem of his pants. The tips of them inch into his boxers and trail down the thin patch of coarse hair there with a touch that’s smoother than water.
His cock is already half-hard when you take him into your hands, warm and soft and stiffening in your grip. Eddie exhales deeply through his nose at your gentle caressing, his gaze now turned down to where work him harder.
“Keep watching your show, baby,” you tease with a knowing grin as you slip his dick from the confines of his pajamas.
“How can I—” he tries to joke, but the words get lost in his throat when you slide your panties to the side. He goes instantly stupid at the sight of your slick collecting along the manicured thatch of pubic hair just above your pussy. His brain all but ceases to function when you rub yourself along him, drenched folds parting to welcome the bulbous tip of his cock.
You feel like silk, he concludes, or maybe something somehow softer. 
Eddie swallows thickly while his obedient hands settle on your hips to steady you. He continues, this time with a tremble in his voice. “How can I when you’re pullin’ this shit, huh?” his button eyes flit back up to look at you, a smirk forming on his pink lips. “You just wanna ride me, huh? That’s what you need?”
You don’t answer him. You’re barely listening, if you’re honest, too concentrated on positioning him at your opening. You gasp softly when you pierce yourself with him, then exhale low moans as you sink slowly onto his cock. The burn is a minimal one, somewhere in your lower tummy, that washes away with a flood of velvet-coated pleasure. 
Eddie fills you so perfectly, just like he always does, like he was made to be seated inside you.
“Well, this is an excellent way to pass the time, if I do say so myself,” he manages to quip through bated exhales from where he’d been holding his breath. You rock your hips over his lap without warning. His pink lips form a tight line as something short of a growl bubbles in his throat and rumbles in his chest.
You watch with a proud grin as his eyes flutter shut and his head falls back. You push his curls over his shoulder to press open-mouthed kisses along the pale expanse of his neck, occasionally dragging your teeth along the milky white tendon there.
Eddie hums to himself when he feels you mewl softly against his skin. Your hips sway back and forth over his thighs, moving to a rhythm of their own accord — all slow and methodical. It’s a pace that always gets him pussy drunk. A steady rise and fall that forces him to feel all of you and makes him swear that you’re some kind of succubus.
“Oh my god,” he says within a dragged out exhale. He starts to babble to himself while you work yourself over his lap. “Fuck me… This is so… so fucking hot. Shit— your pussy is so good to be, doll…”
He forces himself to open his heavy eyes to watch you mount him. His chin tilts down towards his chest and he shifts his hips so he has the perfect view of you. Your honey coats his lap, leaving his cock and pubic hair glistening with your slick. The sight of him all shiny with you makes him dizzy.
His palm leaves your hip and seeks purchase on your ass, not really thinking about it, just gravitating to hold you there. He grips you with guitar-string calloused hands that encourage you to rock harder against him.
Your hand trails from his shoulder down to where the two of you meet. You start to rub your clit with a lust-fueled fervor that just about makes him implode. You whine when your fingers meet the sensitive button, clenching somehow tighter around him as your pleasure begins to crescendo.
“That feel good?” he wonders through bated breaths. His hand leaves your ass, rising for no more than a moment, only to come down again in a practiced slap that makes you jolt against him. The sting of his palm adds gasoline to the simmering embers of your impending orgasm.
You whine, louder this time, arching your back and keening shamelessly against him.
It makes him grin. “Huh? Feels good on your pretty little clit, doesn’t it, doll?”
“Fuck yes…” you cry through a tight throat. “Feels so good, Eddie— fuck.”
Your hips lose their rhythm as your body fights to find its own pleasure. 
You’ve got his dick locked inside you with a grip so tight it’s got him seeing stars, and it makes him wonder if you’d stop. Like, if the boys barged in right now, would you keep going, too far gone and dumb on his cock not to see it through. 
Something about that, you riding him for all he’s worth, whining while you come on his cock with your friends watching — seeing firsthand who you belong to — makes him want to burst all at wants.
“God, this pussy’s amazin’, baby… ’S gonna— holy fuck… You’re gonna make me come if you keep riding me like this... Shit, yeah, just like that, doll.”
When you come, you do it together.
It’s a borderline spiritual feeling, one that doesn’t happen very often because Eddie’s usually adamant about you coming twice before he has the first time. But now, both of you are sensitive and whining through your orgasms, heaving out incorrigible moans and grasping tightly onto one another.
Eddie takes to fucking up into you while you reach your simultaneous highs. He grips you hard enough to leave bruises while his thighs audibly slap slap slap against your more slick ones. You cry at the oversensitivity — electric shocks that contrasts heavily with the warm feeling of his come spitting into your fluttering walls.
You shake violently in his hold, moaning his name over and over like it’s the only word you can remember. Your orgasm comes and goes, and you’re left whining pathetic Eddie, Eddie, Eddie’s into the mostly silent tour bus.
The boy isn’t in much better shape either. He fights off a cramp in his foot from where he’d curled his toes too tightly and blinks away burning tears that sing the backs of his eyes from coming so suddenly.
Your hips come to a slow stop over his lap, too quickly and yet not soon enough. You rest your forehead over his own, knocking your nose with his before you lean in to press several lazy pecks upon his lax mouth.
“See?” you manage to tease through heavy pants. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I guess that wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Eddie quips with a wide grin and eyes that are still slightly glazed with dispersing pleasure. He rubs his hands over the skin of your ass to soothe where he’d held you too tight. It’s soft, too soft for what he’s about to tell you. 
“Now, how about you spread yourself out on this couch and let me clean you up, ‘kay?”
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roosterr · 1 year
Text
white flag ✹ interlude
note: this chapter is a lil shorter than usual, I just wanted to include a lil bonding moment for reader and ghost before the events of next chapter :)
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 1.7k
no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'
summary: you and ghost go people watching in the local park, plus a little heart to heart
warnings: just some much needed fluff :)
ao3
【prev】 || 【next】
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one warm shower and a couple of ibuprofen later, you're feeling mostly human again with a manageable headache and a reasonable amount of regret for how pathetic you’d acted. with time you’d get over that, especially now that ghost had finally seen the light and started treating you with some decency. admittedly though, his change in attitude threw you off earlier; you were bracing for a stern lecture and he essentially brushed it off as though it didn't matter, but you’ve decided not to dwell on that fact.
small victories, as they say.
for the very first time, the pair of you were both sitting across from each other at the tiny kitchen table, in your own worlds; the radio was faintly playing some classic rock station in the background as ghost had his nose in his book and you played some mindless game on your phone. you’d honestly prefer to be reading a good book too, but your collection was currently ash in the wind, so this would have to do.
you're tempted to try starting a conversation, the quiet was giving you far too much room to think, but on the other hand the atmosphere is so peaceful it would be a shame to ruin it.
so you set your phone down on the table and turn your eyes to ghost, watching him scan the pages, his head tilted slightly in concentration. he's washed most of the paint from around his eyes – that was probably done yesterday, not that you noticed – so only a few smudges mark his skin. with the black paint gone, you notice the raised bumps of old scars around his eyes, something you'd never paid much attention to before. you know better than to ask, but you do wonder, in the back of your mind, the stories behind all of them. examining them gives you inexplicable urge to run your fingers over them, to soothe the ache having so many of them must cause.
his dark eyes are like black holes, drawing in your attention and refusing to let you escape their grasp. you're vaguely aware of how long you've been staring at his face, but you don't care to snap yourself out of it until he speaks up.
"what?" he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the page. you quickly look away, down to where your hands idly fiddle with your phone on the table.
"question."
"hm?" he hums in acknowledgement, but still doesn't look at you. normally you'd give up at this point, assuming he was completely uninterested in what you had to say, but this time you decide to push your luck.
"you fancy a walk to the park?"
finally, he meets your eyes, looking up through his light eyelashes and blinking once as he contemplates his answer. you resist the urge to break eye contact as he stares right through you.
"...alright." he says, wedging his bookmark between the pages and sets the book down on the table.
you weren't expecting him to say yes, but you're pleasantly surprised that he did; it felt slightly surreal that after all this time, you were finally becoming friends with ghost. your eyes follow him as he stands, leaving the room to, presumably, change his mask while you sit there with a bewildered look on your face.
a minute or so passes before you hear his voice again. "you comin'?" he calls from the entryway, bringing you back to the present.
"oh– yeah, one second!" you jump up from your chair and rush to get ready as well. the grin you wore as you rushed past him to fetch your jacket was unconscious, the feeling lighting up your features and overshadowing and lingering thoughts from the night before.
a few moments later you're tugging your boots on and you're both walking out the door together, side by side. for once it's actually a nice day, so the short walk to the park is a pleasant one under the blue sky and warm sunlight.
"sorry again, for last night. i think that's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life." you look over to ghost with an apologetic expression, and you can't help but feel that the expression he gives back is one of amusement despite not being able to see half his face.
"that's twice you've screamed at me now." he says, keeping pace with you for a change rather than marching ahead as he usually does.
"i didn't scream at you!" you attempt to defend yourself, but thinking back on it you change your mind. "alright, the second time maybe i did,"
"maybe."
"but the first time, i was very collected." you continue. "it was quite satisfying, to be honest."
"i suppose i deserved it." his gaze falls to the ground and, even though he's right – he did deserve it – you do feel a little bad.
"seriously, though," you continue, "thank you, for looking after me last night. you didn't have to, and i know you didn't want to, but i really appreciate it."
"anyone would'a done the same…" he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. you get the feeling he's not used to people showing their appreciation for him, which only encourages you to carry on.
"and thanks for taking me in, i know having some random idiot in your house is the last thing you want." you give him a warm smile as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.
"well, you're not just any idiot, are you?" he says, earning a questioning tilt of your head. "you're sting. the idiot."
a genuine laugh escapes you, the first one in a long time, and you gently nudge ghost's arm with your elbow.
"oh, lovely, thanks mate." you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. you see his eyes lift in a barely noticeable smile, the sight causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest.
you arrive at the park fairly quickly, finding yourselves an out of the way bench to occupy under the partial shade of a nearby oak tree. you're enveloped by a comfortable silence as you both simply observe the beauty of nature and bask in the feeling of the sun on your face.
you're not sure how long the two of you sit there in each other's company, but you find yourself subconsciously drifting closer to him, close enough that your knees just about touch. you're sure he notices – there isn't much that gets by him – but he doesn't show it.
"did you hear they figured out how the fire started?" you keep your voice low to preserve the peaceful quiet, turning your head to look at him as you ask.
"oh yeah? how?"
"ugh…" you groan with the annoyance the memory bring up. "my stupid neighbour left a fucking candle burning all night, the twat."
"what a fuckin' idiot…" he glances briefly in your direction, a sympathetic frown on his face.
"i can never look at candles the same way again, they're tainted now." you drag a hand over your face and shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.
there's another pause in the conversation as you stare ahead, watching the trees sway in the breeze and all the people going about their lives, everything cast in a golden glow from sun.
you don't want it to end, the way the two of you are now. this is the most you've ever spoken to echother, outside of arguments, and you really want to make the most of it.
"nice weather today, right?" you try to keep him talking to you, and you're considering the fact that he hasn't told you to shut up yet as a good sign.
"hm." ghost hums and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. "you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is again?"
"c'mon, throw me a bone here." you turn your body to face him more. "actually what is it, though?"
"...green."
"i knew it!" you exclaim, a triumphant grin pulling at your lips. "it makes sense, you just have 'dark green' vibes."
"i'll take your word for it."
it's difficult to know what to talk about with him, seeing as you've never actually been friendly before and you've already used the only small talk question you could think of.
"hmm…" your eyes roam over the park, looking for something to give you an idea. eventually you land on a scrappy little white dog, with possibly the worst haircut you've ever seen. "look at that woman's dog," you point it out to ghost, snickering at the way it was resisting its owner as she pulled it along. "i feel bad for the little guy."
"is that a dog? thought it was an oversized rat."
"oh my god!" you snort a laugh, covering your mouth with a hand and throwing your head back. you hear ghost chuckle lightly beside you, and when you turn your head to look back at him you find him already looking at you.
all other thoughts leave your mind when you see how his eyes glow a golden colour in the light of the sun. you feel the tips of your ears heating up and quickly face forward again before he has a chance to notice.
luckily another distraction presents itself almost immediately, in the form of a well-dressed office worker sprinting past you at full speed.
"wow," you mutter, your eyes following him as he disappears around a bend in the path, "he's not hangin' about."
"maybe he left a candle burnin'." ghost looks back to you, a playful glint in his eyes you're not sure you've ever seen on him.
you can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his terrible joke. "aw, ghost," you groan, gently shoving him as he chuckles at your reaction, "you're wrong for that one."
ghost slouches into the bench as you both look back out across the park, shifting so his thigh presses against yours ever so slightly. you're careful not to react, afraid that he'd pull away if you draw attention to the gesture, and resolve to just enjoy the rare closeness of his presence.
eventually you'd have to head back, but for now you were more than content to sit here and watch the world go by with him.
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inkofthebrain · 8 months
Text
Beach Day
Modern!Mizu x F!Reader
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Art Creds: @lillydrawsmizu thank you for bringing this to life <3
Warnings: none
AN: the only volleyball experience I have is playing on the beach drunk out of my mind in high school so this is going to be interesting. Not proofread lawl.
——————
You were layed out across a towel, arm above your head, soaking in the sunny summer day and enjoying the sounds of the water. Taigen spotted a private little beach while on a run a few weeks back and after begging everybody to check it out, a beach day was finally in order. The communal volleyball court that originally caught his attention was in ok condition, a few loose threads here and there and wooden posts that were the ideal perching spot for seagulls when there wasn't a commotion around the net.
"Y/n!" Akemi called from the net, which sat a few feet away from the group's setup of towels, coolers, and umbrellas. You turned your head to the left to face your friend, seeing Ringo walking off the court and heading towards the water. "Come join us! Ringo wants to swim so we are short one." The three left on the court were all turned to you, Akemi and Taigen on the right and Mizu on the left.
You shook your head and let out a laugh, "No! You guys know I can't play."
"C'mon, it's game point it'll be quick. I'm not giving up until Mizu admits I'm better than her" He placed his sunglasses on his head and crossed his arms.
"Yeah right," Mizu scoffs, "c'mon y/n I'll teach you, it's easy," she says with a smile, motioning you to walk over to her. You couldn't refuse her offer, she was having so much fun and you'd hate to be the reason they'd have to end the game (resulting in Taigen demanding a rematch for days every time he sees Mizu).
"Fineeeee," You got up with a groan, adjusting your bathing suit as you walked over. Mizu turned back to face the net and put her hands up to catch the ball Taigen threw her way. She dropped it onto the ground, putting her foot on it to stop it from rolling away.
"I apologize in advance, I have no idea what I'm doing" You tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling at the raven-haired girl in front of you. Taigen and Akemi were distracted in conversation on the other side of the net.
"Don't apologize, you are gonna do great," She waves her hand in front of her, dismissing your apology, "Now, you are going to want to hold your hands like this." Her slender fingers grabbed your hands, placing them in the correct position. You looked at her soft features while she made minor adjustments to your form, a slight blush creeping across your face as her hands lingered on yours.
"Perfect, remember to hit with your forearms when you pass, it gives you the most control." She taped your arm, pointing to where she was referencing, and you hummed in acknowledgment. She gave you a quick overview of the rules and after passing the ball back and forth to each other a few times it was time to start the game.
"You ready to go down?" Taigen taunts, earning a light slap on his arm from Akemi who shot him a glare.
"In your dreams" Mizu retorts with a smirk. She started walking to the end of the court to serve, pausing next to you placing her hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear.
"Aim for Akemi, she is scared of getting hit in the face. It's an easy point." Her voice sends chills down your spine as she away, looking at you with a smile, the proximity holding a tension you couldn't quite place.
"Okay," You said in a whisper, admiring her eyes. She gave your shoulder a squeeze, her hand sliding down and leaving the warmth of your body as she got ready to serve. Your eyes followed her toned figure, a slight breeze causing her ponytail to sway slightly.
Mizu shoots you a wink before hitting the ball, sending it flying across the net. Taigen runs after it, passing it to Akemi who almost misses and barely gets it over the net. You dive towards the ball, hitting it with as much force and precision that you can muster.
“Atta’ girl y/n!” Mizu shouts, causing a smile to spread across your face as you back up from the net. Taigen sets the ball, Akemi jumping up to smack towards Mizu.
“Here!” Mizu says with a grunt, passing the ball. You then send it flying at Akemi, who throws her arms in front of her face with a yelp causing the ball to shoot right over her head and onto the soft sand. Taigen groans and walks off the court to get a drink of water, Akemi shortly behind him spewing apologies.
“I did it!” You explain, running to Mizu with your hand out for a high five. The tall woman catches your hand pulling you into a tight hug.
“Yeah you did! That was amazing, you need to play with us more.” You guys pull apart and she smiles at you, hands still on your sides and yours around her neck.
“Who won?” Ringo says as he walks up to you guys, covered in water and panting.
“We did!” You exclaim, turning to face the man, arms sliding off Mizu.
“It was all thanks to this pretty girl right here” Mizu says, pulling you into her side by your waist. You smile down at the ground attempting to hide the flush on your face.
“What can I say I learnt from the best” You say shooting Mizu a smile.
“Cmon let’s go, Taigen said loser buys lunch” Mizu pulls away but reaches to grab your hand, leading you to the others
“I DID NOT!” Taigen retorts. You and Mizu both let out a snicker, laughing at the sore loser.
——————
AHHHHHH. I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. I HAVENT WRITTEN FANFIC IN AGES IM SORRY IF IM RUSTY.
@fanficreader33 THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. MWAH!
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minarisplaything · 1 year
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What You're Missing (Part 1) ft. Huh Yunjin
Prompt:  you are dating kazuha, who is lovely, but has been putting off having sex until marriage. enter her step-sister yunjin who offers you a taste of what you've been missing word count: 1.6k pairing: huh yunjin x male reader, nakamura kazuha x male reader warnings: cheating
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"oh fuck zuha..."
  the sound of your moaned praise mixed with the vulgar sound that was already filling the room. the sound in question was that of your girlfriend, kazuha nakamura, bobbing her head up and down as she deep-throated your cock.
  your hand rested on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her dark locks. however, you continued to let her work at her own pace as opposed to taking control and fucking her throat. this was all still relatively new to her and for better or worse you were willing to go at her speed as opposed to yours.
  which, while the noble and right thing to do, was always a bit excruciating. there was an enjoyment in being the first to teach her certain things things; like telling her to pay attention to the underside of your cock or reminding her to play with your balls. it was sweet and there was value in going through these things together as a couple. you acknowledged that.
but well...
there were also times when you just wanted to get a nut off and the slow, leisure pace that kazuha worked at just wasn't cutting it. her head would bob slowly, almost tortorously on your cock. it felt good but there were times like tonight when you just wanted nothing more to be utterly spent. to have her eyes look up at you as she sucked your soul from your body. the imagery alone was enough to cause your cock to twitch in her mouth. the day she let you cum in her mouth and she swallowed it was the day you could finally die a happy man but the two of you hadn't even gotten to that point yet. for now it was only fantasy.
it was a process. despite your internal impatience you told yourself that. she'd be ready when she was ready and once she was you were sure it'd be a game changer. for now you just had to lay back and not think about it too much.
an hour later, you found yourself feeling restless. kazuha had fallen asleep peacefully next to you but your body refused to sleep. you had finished but it hadn't exactly been the euphoric release you were hoping for. as a result, you felt a desperate urge to go to the bathroom and rub one out just so you could get a goodnight's sleep. the only problem was that kazuha lived with her step-sister. honestly, you had only met her a handful of times and the idea of her hearing you or catching you defiling their bathroom was mortifiying.
so, in the end, you settled for making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping the late night trip would clear the fog of horniess that still clouded your mind. if things continued like this it might be better off if you didn't spend the night. or, at least you would be able to go to sleep less frustrated.
"can't sleep?"
"jesus!"
a sudden voice cutting through the quiet of the apartment caused you to jump, nearly dropping the glass of water in your hand. you turned around, spotting the familar face of your girlfriend's step-sister in the dimly lit kitchen. "christ, yunjin. could you not sneak up on me like that?"
she grinned and gave a slight shrug, "it's not my fault you were so lost in thought that you didn't hear me coming. i wish i could say the same."
"what do you mean by that?" you questioned.
"'oh zuha! that's it! i'm almost there'" yunjin immitated in a moaning voice, her hand touching her neck.
it was during her little performance that you gave yunjin a closer once over. she was clothed only in a pair of pajama shorts that showed off plenty of her thighs and a white tank top that left no illusion of there being any support beneath them. by the time you looked up again the smirk and knowing look in her eye told you that she had caught you staring.
"see something you like?"
"n-no!" you quickly stuttered. "and i didn't sound like that!"
"you're right. you're acting was much worse," yunjin teased.
"i...i wasn't acting," you protested.
at least not fully. but you didn't have to admit that now. though whether you admitted it or not didn't seem to matter as yunjin crossed her arms over her chest, her breast pushing out slightly. she rolled her eyes before looking back at you.
"i know what it sounds like when a man comes. when a man really orgasms. what i heard tonight was not it," there was a definite tone in her voice, "but it's cute of you to do that for zuha."
that last part almost sounded mocking. feeling more defensive than ever your brows knitted together, placing down your cup of water. "you don't know what you're talking about."
"yes. i do. and you know i do."
yunjin took a step towards you. everything from her words to her demeanor was very matter of fact. but there was something else in there too. a lustful look that gave you a sense of trepedation. a look that said she just might swallow you whole if you let her. and a quiet part of your brain argued that you just might. fuck. stop thinking about it. yet despite your best thoughts, you could feel a stirring beneath your boxers. yunjin only grinned, moving closer as you were trapped between her body and the kitchen counter.
"i've been waiting for her to come ask me for advice but she hasn't yet. that must mean she thinks that she's doing a good job. or you've been telling her she has. either way it, clearly, isn't the case or this wouldn't be so hard would it?"
the this she was referring to was your hard cock which she now had in her hand, her fingers having snaked past the waistband of your boxers with ease. slowly she began to stroke your length, all while not breaking eye contact for a second. against your better judgement your cock twitched in her grasp. no matter how much the logical part of your brain yelled for you to pull up your boxers and run; the basic instinct in you couldn't help but note how good it felt.
"yunjin..."
"how long has it been since you've properly fucked something, huh?" she said, her tone getting more confident as she pumped your cock faster. "don't try to deny it, i know she's saving herself for marriage."
"t-there's nothing wrong with that," you managed to croak out in a low voice.
"of course there's not," yunjin laughed. "but where does that leave you?"
yunjin leaned closer, her voice coming out in a low whisper as her breath brushed against your ear, "when was the last time you felt a pussy squeezing around your cock?"
"oh, fuck."
your hips bucked, thrusting your cock into her grasp as she nibbled on your earlobe. it seemed like a simple enough gesture but the combination of yunjin pumping your cock; her body pressed flush against yours. and her mouth sucking on your earlobe turned out to be a heavenly combination. you tried to absolve yourself of responsibility, saying your body was just reacting this way because of how backed up you were. in reality, though, there was no denying that yunjin knew exactly what she was doing and it made a huge difference in the result.
"are you going to cum already?" yunjin taunted, your shaft throbbing in anticipation, "it took you twice as long as this to cum with zuha and she was using her mouth. tsk. you really need to send her to me for tips. i'll make sure she lets you cum in her mouth."
that particular comment sent your mind on a spiral. you imagined looking down and seeing zuha's lips wrapped around your cock as she vigorously bobbed her head back and forth on your cock. kneeling next to her was yunjin, holding kazuha's hair back and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. a mixture of instructions and vulgarities no doubt. as the image in your mind switched to yunjin sucking on your scrotum while zuha edged you towards orgasm, your grip tightened on the kitchen counter. your cock began to twitch, feeling completely different from what had happened earlier that night. when it finally hit your vision went white, a release like you hadn't had in some time washing over you.
"fuck!!"
your exclamation was louder than you intended but in that moment you didn't care. all you knew was pleasure and for a moment, your mind was blank.
as you opened your eyes and looked down you saw not the fantasy from your mind, but merely yunjin on her knees and wiping at the corner of her mouth. you had gotten someone to swallow your cum this night after all. just not nearly in the way you had imagined.
"holy shit..." you muttered.
"you came like a broken faucet" she commented, an amused tone in her voice. "my sister had you that backed up? that doesn't seem healthy."
you were speechless, not even able to muster a defense of your girlfriend. you were pretty sure if you let go of the counter your knees would give out at that point. yunjin, unphased, rose to her feet and patted you on the cheek softly.
"when you're ready to remember what pussy feels like, you know where to find me."
with that offer she turned on her heel and made her way out of the kitchen, presumably to bed. leaving you alone to ponder what the hell had just happened.
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fullofbees · 3 months
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How the Brothers React to a Witch!Reader
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As the title says; the brothers' antics when it comes to MC's withcraft.
CW: None!
»»----------► Reader is Gender Neutral
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At first, Lucifer would roll his eyes in annoyance; there’s no time to entertain ancient human superstition. That is until you suggest putting some of Lilith’s keepsakes in the lounge; “Spirits are attracted to sentimental or familiar objects from when they are alive. If you place these on the mantle above the fireplace, maybe she can visit when you all hang out together.” The demon doesn’t believe a word MC says, but his brothers love the idea, and so it happens without his approval anyways. He stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the extra warmth it brings to movie nights.
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The Avatar of Greed would beg MC for some kind of spell that would either bring money in or help him save what little he already has. MC warns him that sometimes the universe answers in ways you won’t expect. MC has him place a few cinnamon sticks in a jar along with a small handful of Grimm; though they keep it in their possession, so Mammon isn’t tempted to open it prematurely. Though he’s begging again only a week later, after having his scheduled packed with shift after shift at his various jobs. At least payday will cheer him up.
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Respectfully, once Levi found out you couldn’t brew him a potion or cast a spell that aided in his otaku activities, he would lose interest. That is until he becomes hyperfixated on a novel/game from the human world that involves a plethora of references to their craft. Now MC receives messages every hour or so with a plea to explain the lore, an herb, or a philosophy so he can understand his beloved media.
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Satan would be interested in the kinds of hexes or curses MC would be able to perform. They would struggle at first to explain how curses don’t work the same way as they do in the Devildom; they aren’t always instantaneous, and more often than not, you won’t get to see the results of the magic for yourself. Still, it can be an easy way of releasing your anger to the universe, allowing it to use the energy against your target if it so pleases. MC tells him that not every aggravating situation is worth your energy. It doesn’t stop him from trying to curse Lucifer.
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Asmodeus is already fascinated with tarot and astrology; he would probably have MC read his birth chart, as well as have them make a synastry chart for their relationship. He would text the HoL group chat with MC’s interpretations, probably exaggerating it slightly to make his brothers jealous: “MC said that we’re destined to be together <3.” MC is then flooded with the brothers begging for their own synastry reading. Lucifer ends up banning birth chart discussions from the house because of the fights that break out.
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He’s confused as to why MC places food upon an altar and leaves it be. He probably will try to sneakily eat the offerings, only for MC to shoo him away and fiercely guard it afterwards. All is forgiven when MC approaches the starving demon with the now cold food. He doesn’t care though, and happily munches away while MC explains how spirits consume the essence of the offerings. He doesn’t understand it that well, but is mindful to ask MC the next time he sees food upon their altar, and patiently waits for the spirits to have their fill first.
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Like Levi, Belphie wouldn’t have that much interest. He doesn’t need any help sleeping, and he already has powers of dream manipulation. He would listen to MC rant about dream interpretation though, and help them relive previous dreams so they can get a clearer picture. Absolutely loves astrology though; the stars have always been sentimental to him, so to learn about the humans' different interpretations of the constellations softens his hatred for them just the tiniest bit.
•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Read Fics on AO3 | Submit a request •••✦ ❤ ✦•••
A/N: I have one ready for the other dateables ready, I just need to make little name banners for them. Also, please reblog as this helps me connect with more Obey Me fans! :3
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cozage · 1 year
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The Daughter's Return: Part 6
Truth or Dare
Part 1 | Part 7 | Masterlist | Read this on A03
Characters: female reader x Ace Word Count: 4k CW: A bunch of adults playing Drunken Truth or Dare. You know what's coming.
Just about everyone else was already on the roof. You hadn’t met all of the strategists, but you knew most of them from your previous time on the ship. A few people who weren’t strategists were there as well, but Bailey - the eighth division strategist, explained that commanders without strategists brought an extra person. Marco and Ace arrived shortly after you, with Kingdew, Haruta, and Clem, and the games finally began. 
“Are we doing Commander and Strategist teams or commanders versus strategists?” Marco asked. 
“Versus!” you shouted, sticking your tongue out at Ace and Marco. Marco cockily raised an eyebrow in response, but Ace quickly averted his eyes from you. 
“Rakuyo, do the honors,” Ace said, holding out the deck of playing cards to his fellow commander. 
You were practically bouncing up and down with excitement. This is what you had missed the most about being away. Family game night, with a little bit of an evil twist. 
“Seven,” Rakuyo said, holding out the card. “Truth or Dare.”
“You pulled the card, you start us off,” Marco called. “Everyone knows the rules. You only get three truths, and then you have to start doing dares. If you don’t do a challenge, you’re out. Once a team gets down to zero members, they’re out. No targeting. Nothing super dangerous. You can be lewd, but nothing below the belt with other people. Got it?”
Rakuyo’s eyes went around the circle, looking for a strategist to pick on. You expected him to pick his own strategist, Ailia, but his eyes landed on you. 
“Y/N, truth or dare?”
You snorted. “Dare.”
“I dare you to jump down on the deck, take someone’s drink from their hands and finish it, and walk away without saying any words.”
You laughed. It was creative, and slightly embarrassing. Rakuyo always went easy on you compared to the dares he gave others. Tonight, you were grateful for that.  
You got up from your seat and jumped off the building, searching for the perfect culprit. You saw the perfect person as soon after a few steps. A spunky redhead with blue eyes. Uzzo.
You walked up to him and took his drink as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was talking to a friend, and when you appeared next to them, both of them stopped to acknowledge you. You took his drink and downed it quickly, and then handed it back to him and walked off, glancing up at the roof to see thirty sets of eyes staring down at you. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Uzzo called. 
You picked up your pace slightly, refusing to acknowledge him. You stared straight ahead and kept walking until you were out of his line of sight, and then you climbed up onto the roof, giggling. A few of the strategists high fived you as you sat down.
Your eyes scanned across the commanders and you grinned mischievously. You almost called out to Ace, but he looked particularly gloomy at the moment. He was definitely in a funk, and you were certain you wouldn’t be helping his mood by calling on him. So you decided to leave him alone for now and picked your next best culprit.
“Thatch! Truth or Dare?”
“Shit,” Thatch huffed, and the rest of the commanders laughed. “Not risking it. Truth.”
“Which of the strategists do you want to bang the most?”
“Right off the bat, huh?” Thatch groaned. “I’m going to make you regret this.”
You took a sip of your ale, feigning innocence. 
Thatch sighed, looking down the line of strategists. “Margot.”
You squealed with glee as Margot’s face flushed a deep pink. “I’m going to grab another drink, anyone need anything?”
“I’ll come,” Marco offered, grabbing his and Ace’s tankards. The two of you hopped off the roof and made your way to the keg. 
“Dude,” Marco laughed. “You’re wasted.”
“You try having ten double shots of rum and let me know where you’re at,” you mumbled, fanning your face. You always got so hot when you drank too much too fast. 
“You sure you’re okay hanging out on the rooftop? I know it’s Whitey’s last night.”
“You can't get rid of me that easily, Marco. Nice try.”
Marco held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying.”
“I already told Whitey goodbye,” you said. You had to bite your lip to stop the tears from rising up again. “She told me to hang out with you all.”
“Alright,” Marco said, shaking his head. 
There was a line at the keg, and you too stood quietly in it. It gave you time to think about the past few days, when it dawned on you.
“Is Ace mad at me?” you asked.
Marco looked at you for a moment, baffled at the bluntness of your question. “You should ask him that.”
You shrugged. “Okay.”
Marco laughed at your response. “That’s it?”
You nodded, and the two of you arrived at the keg. You quickly filled up all three drinks and walked back to the rooftop. As you arrived, you smoothly took Ace’s mug from Marco, and sat down next to him as you placed the drink down. He looked at you, with a mix of surprise and irritation, but you ignored it. 
“Are you mad at me?” You tried to whisper, but it was loud enough for almost everyone to hear you. 
“What?” Ace asked.
“Are. You. Mad. At. Me?” You annunciated every word slowly, in case you were slurring your words already.
“Can we talk about this later?” Ace hissed, his eyes darting around the circle nervously.
“Y/N!” Vista called out, and you turned to look at him. Almost everyone’s eyes were on you, watching you and Ace closely. “Truth or Dare?”
The conversation with Ace would have to continue later. Vista was one of the commanders who always made you regret getting his attention, regardless of whatever you chose. But choosing dare was too much of a gamble with him. You couldn’t get out this early in the night. You were the main eliminator of the strategist team. 
“Truth.”
Thatch and Vista both sighed in disappointment. It was clear they had been plotting while you had been away.  
“Tongue or fingers?”
“If I can’t have both, then fingers,” you answered, trying your best to appear unfazed by the question. You could feel your face burning, but you hoped that your already pinked cheeks were hiding most of your blush.  A few mouths dropped open, so you had to assume your rouse had been successful, even if you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.
You smiled, trying to steady your breathing in the process. “Namur, truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
Namur was a kind soul. He was probably one of your favorite commanders. So you felt bad doing this, but you needed to move this game along and end it quickly. You needed to retaliate against the commanders. 
“I dare you to strip to your underwear and climb up to the crow’s nest.”
“Veto!” Jozu cried in rage. 
“It doesn’t violate the rules we set,” Marco said, glaring at you. “We all know she plays dirty, but the rules are the rules.”
“Namur,” you sang. “Tick tock!”
“I’m not doing that,” Namur said. “Sorry guys.”
The game continued to go on, filled with stupid dares and strange questions. 
“Why’d you kiss that guy earlier?” Ace finally mumbled to you. “Are you guys together?”
“What guy?” you asked, only half listening to him. Marco was spinning in circles, and you had to see if he was going to throw up.
“The guy who beat you in Five Shots.”
“Oh,” you laughed lightly. “Not together. He asked.”
Ace scoffed. “He asked?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you just kiss anyone that asks?” he demanded. He sounded irritated. 
“Why?” you teased, leaning in so close that your nose touched his. “You planning on asking?”
He jerked away from you, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and you gave him a little wink before turning back to watch Marco. 
You weren’t sure if he was still listening, but you whispered so only he had the chance of hearing. “I’d say yes, you know.”
If he heard you, he didn’t say anything. The two of you sat next to each other, both trying to avoid the weird tension that hung in the air until you were forced to move away from him due to Atmos’s attempt to make you uncomfortable. He placed you on Haruta’s lap, which you found quite humorous and very comfortable.
The night flew by, and the players began to actively dwindle down. By the time there were ten players left, you had single handedly gotten 5 commanders out, drank an additional 3 beers, and were still stuck on the twelfth commander’s lap. 
A few of the commanders had paused to do a quick scheming session. There were only four commanders left in the game: Marco, Ace, Jiru, and Thatch; but all of the commanders were called in to discuss. Only Haruta and Ace were excluded from the group discussion; Haruta was stuck underneath you and had been unusually quiet since you had joined him, and Ace had gone to get more drinks after the last round. He had been gone for a suspicious amount of time, but as you were about to mention it, Clem spoke up.
“They’re going to play their Division Double Dare,” Clem grumbled. You didn’t know him well, but he was the sixth division strategist alongside Blamenco. 
“Division Double Dare?” you asked, looking at him. 
“Oh, right. You haven’t been around for it,” Clem said. “Each group gets one ‘Division Double Dare’. A division is selected, and both members have to partake in the dare. Whoever does the dare better or faster wins. The loser is out of the game, and the winner gets to bring in a player that’s gone out.”
“Not really worth it if you’re losing,” you noted. “Seems risky.” 
Ailia laughed. “Not if you have Portgas D. Ace on your team. He’s never lost a Division Double Dare. It will almost certainly be you against him.”
Your eyes slid over to where the group was plotting quietly and your heartbeat quickened. Could you beat Ace in whatever they had planned? You wouldn’t be forfeiting, whatever the dare would be. But doing something better than your commander would be a challenge, and you doubted that they would be choosing something you would be good at. 
“We want to do a Division Double Dare,” Jiru announced as Ace walked back to the group with drinks. 
Ace’s face contorted in confusion at Marco. “Dude, you said-”
“Division Two,” Jiru said, looking at Ace. 
Marco was looking at Ace apologetically, and your hair stood on its end. Marco rarely felt remorse when it came to competition. If he was feeling it now, it only meant something difficult was coming your way. 
Jiru grinned, looking at the two of you. “I want a show,” he said. 
You heard a few giggles from around the circle. Haruta tensed underneath you. It must’ve been code for something, but you weren’t sure what. 
“Jiru-” Ace started. 
The fourteenth division commander was savoring the attention being on him. Everyone was hanging onto every word he said. 
“The two of you….”
“Please don't-” Ace begged.
“Full makeout session.” Jiru’s eyes moved to you, hoping to catch you flustered. “I want passion. Romance. Everything you’ve got.”
Your cheeks burned, but you refused to give him any more hints of embarrassment besides that. 
“How do you pick a winner?” you asked, skeptical. 
“We vote,” Vista explained. 
You frowned. “That could be biased.”
 “Going to forfeit?” Jiru asked, his eyes glistening with demented hope. 
They wanted you out. If you were out and another commander came back into the game, the odds would be even. In the commander’s favor, even. You had gotten out more individuals than anyone else. You wouldn’t lose that easily. Your team was counting on you. 
“You wish,” you laughed. “Am I allowed to get up for this?”
“Go ahead,” Thatch said. “You have to go back when you’re done though.”
You stood up, and walked over to Ace. He was staring at his feet, looking deathly pale. 
“Ace?” you asked, snapping your fingers to get his attention. “Come on, let’s do this.”
He wouldn’t look at you. His eyes continued to watch a small spot on the deck, but you could see a panic washing over his face. He looked…frightened. And angry. More angry than you had seen him all night.
When he finally looked up at you, the emotions you suspected were confirmed. He was scared. And upset. You had to admit, you felt the same way. The last thing you wanted was to be judged on your kissing ability. 
His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a small reassuring smile. “Are you initiating this or am I?” you whispered. 
“I can’t do this,” Ace whispered. 
You laughed. “Ace, I’m sure you’ve kissed hundreds of people. I’m no different.”
“You are different,” he mumbled. “I can’t do this.”
“Ace-”
He pulled your hands off of his neck and stepped away from you. “I’m out.”
You heard small gasps from around the circle. You were too surprised to look at everyone’s reactions, but you imagined them all in shock. Ace shuffled away, his eyes still glued to the floor. You watched him go, hearing your fellow strategists behind you. 
“I don’t think he’s ever forfeited a double dare before,” Ophelia whispered. 
“He’s never even lost a double dare before,” Fossa whispered back. 
“And he’s definitely done worse than a make out session,” Dell said. “Wonder if he’s sick?”
“Portgas D. Ace!” you screamed, frozen where you stood. “You coward!”
You could feel tears pricking at your eyes. You weren’t sure if they were from disappointment or embarrassment. 
“I thought he liked her,” Blamenco commented. “Guess it was the opposite.” His words were met by a few shushes from the rest of the group. 
“Damn, I can’t believe he dropped the ball on that one,” Jiru said. “Well, Y/N, who do you want in? Since you won, you get to pick.”
You didn’t even care about this stupid game anymore. You wanted to run away, to make yourself small and hide in a corner. You were afraid to turn back to the group, knowing they would notice your glassy eyes and new demeanor. 
“Bailey,” you croaked out. “Bailey can come back in.”
You finally willed yourself to move, and you headed towards the roof exit. You couldn’t pretend like everything was normal. Not anymore. You had gotten the feeling Ace was upset with you, but you didn’t realize he was mad enough to throw a game. 
“If you leave the rooftop, you’re out!” Jiru yelled, and you heard the immediate sound of someone smacking him. 
“Dude,” Marco said quietly. “Let her go.”
You were enraged. Embarrassed. Infuriated. How dare Portgas D. Ace treat you like that in front of a crowd? How dare he embarrass you, tell you that you weren’t even worth a kiss. It was one thing to say it in private. But he did it in front of your friends, your family. 
It didn’t take long for you to find him. He was standing at the stern of the ship, looking out at the dark sea. He was alone, thankfully, because you were about to make a scene. 
“You bastard!” you hissed, storming up to him. “What the hell was that about? Am I really so bad that you can’t even pretend to enjoy kissing me?”
Ace took a long drink and turned to you. “Look, you won. Who cares how you did it?”
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to lose by forfeit to a man who’s never backed down from a challenge before?” you demanded. You could feel steam rolling off of your skin in response to your rage. 
“I didn’t think about that, sorry,” Ace mumbled, turning back to the sea. “The stars are nice tonight, don’t you think?”
“I don’t give a damn about the stars right now!” you shouted. “Why the hell didn’t you kiss me?!”
“I didn’t want it to be weird between us,” Ace said, gritting his teeth. 
“Why would it have been weird? It was just some dare!”
“Look, I didn’t want our first kiss to be some show for thirty other people, okay?!”
His answer made you pause, trying to figure out if there was a secret meaning within his words. Your rage was doused in an instant, and you could feel the mood shift. Maybe it hadn’t been irritation you had been feeling from him all night. Maybe it was jealousy. 
“Well. There’s nobody around now,” you hinted, looking at your commander. 
“No…” Ace took a step towards you, his eyes fixated on your lips. “I guess there’s not.”
You both stared at each other for a moment, a silent challenge for the other to make the first move. You didn’t back down, but you also weren’t planning to initiate anything. For a second, the two of you were stuck in a stalemate and you thought you had misread the situation, until finally Ace moved. 
His head dipped down, and you closed your eyes as his lips pressed firmly into yours. You stood there, relishing in the frozen moment, and then Ace began to take charge. His tongue pressed against your lips, requesting entrance to your mouth, and you eagerly obliged. You could taste the alcohol mixed with a hint of something sweet like candy, and you swirled your tongue around his, desperate for another taste. 
Ace let out a soft moan at your movement, humming against your mouth. Passion spread like wildfire through your veins, your skin growing warm and tingly at his touch. Your hands found his hair and became entangled in its strands, trying to pull him closer to you. You couldn’t get enough of him, and he pushed back against you with equal urgency. 
His arms wrapped around you, and he carefully led you over to the side of the ship and hoisted you up on the railing. He kept his lips connected with you the entire time, only pulling away to make sure you were balanced on the banister
“You okay?” Ace asked, holding onto you tightly. 
“Yeah,” you whispered, already leaning forward and pressing your lips against his again. 
You could feel him smiling against you as he pressed his body against yours, and you spread your legs to allow him to get closer. He quickly closed the gap, his warm body grinding against you. His arms stayed wrapped around your back, anchoring you firmly in place. His tongue swirled around your mouth, exploring and pushing deeper into you. You didn’t care that you were running out of air. It was worth it to keep him this close.
He finally pulled away from you, and you gave a soft whimper at his sudden disappearance. The last thing you wanted was to be apart. You had done enough of that over the past few days. Now all you wanted was him. 
“Ace-” 
You tried to go back in for another kiss, but Ace’s lips touched your jaw line, and then he began to pepper your neck with gentle kisses. You gave an involuntary moan as he gently sucked on the nape of your neck; your fingers digging into his scalp to encourage him further. 
He continued to mark your skin, alternating between soft bites and kisses that grew more intense with every gasp or moan you let out. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him in and grinding against his core. You were starting to feel a bulge in his pants, and your heart rate picked up as his size hardened against you.
“Shit,” Ace mumbled against your skin. He gave an exceptionally hard suck against your neck.
 You let out a shaky breath; that was certainly going to leave a mark tomorrow. But you didn’t care. It didn’t matter what his reputation was. If you could only have him in this moment, you would. Tomorrow things might be different, but you wanted the whole ship to know who you belonged to tonight. 
“Ace!” Marco’s voice called out, and the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs. “Are you up here?”
Just as fast as the passion had blossomed, it was over. Ace ripped away from you, and you struggled to keep your balance on the railing without him. 
“Fuck!” Ace yelled, reaching out to grab your arm so you wouldn’t fall overboard. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
You blinked a few times, trying to gather your bearings. The world still felt like it was spinning. You were drunk from alcohol and from Ace. To have one ripped away from you so suddenly made you feel cold and confused. 
“Yeah,” you mumbled, shaking your head slightly to bring yourself back to the present. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Ace!” Marco called, looking around. Marco started towards Ace, and then froze when he saw you on the railing next to your commander. 
What a sight the two of you must’ve been. Ace’s hair was a complete mess, and you had to have some variety of marks scattered across your neck from his advances. Not to mention the fact that you were both staring at Marco with a wild and slightly irritated look, and breathing heavily from your previous moments. 
Marco frowned at you. “Come on. Bed.”
“Yeah,” Ace said. “I’m right behind you.”
“Not you,” Marco frowned at Ace and pointed at you. “You. Come on, let’s go.”
“I’m going to sleep in my-”
“Nope. Come on. I’ve got a mattress on my floor.” Marco planted his feet and watched you. It was clear he wasn’t going to budge until you followed him.
“Marco,” Ace tried. “It’s okay, really! I-”
“No.” Marco was firm and absolute. His eyes felt like daggers as he stared at you, waiting for you to move. He really was like your second dad, when you thought about it. He was always ruining your nights. “Y/N. Let’s go. Now.”
You groaned and hopped off the banister. “You’re no fun,” you grumbled, trudging over to him. 
“Don’t wanna hear it.” Marco ruffled your hair playfully. His tone was lighter, but still stern. “Say goodnight, kids.”
You turned around and met Ace’s eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at his flustered face. Even when he was embarrassed and pouting, he was so adorable. “Goodnight, Portgas D. Ace.”
Ace smiled at your words. “Sleep well.”
“Won’t sleep as well as I could’ve,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. You heard Ace chuckle, which made your heart flutter.
“Enough!” Marco let out an exasperated sigh and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to lead you down the stairs. “You’ll both thank me in the morning,” Marco muttered, mostly to himself. 
“Doubt it,” you sang back, which prompted him to smack your head. You chose to walk the rest of the way in silence. It was later than you had realized, and a bed was sounding really comfortable now. 
Once Marco opened the door to his room, you collapsed onto the mattress. “Let me grab some blankets,” Marco said. He made sure you sat down on the mattress and went to his closet to find some spare pillows. 
You didn’t need them. You had always been a low maintenance night guest for Marco, but between your devil fruit powers and the after effects of the alcohol, you curled up and fell asleep on the mattress before Marco could even locate a pillow and blanket. By the time he turned around, you were softly snoring, a smile gracing your face.
Marco still did the same routine he always did when you slept over. He gently lifted your head and placed a pillow underneath, and then placed a few blankets on top of your sleeping body. He climbed into bed, watched you for a moment to make sure you were actually asleep.
“Night kid,” he whispered, flicking out his bedside lamp and finally letting himself fall asleep. It had been a long night, but at least it had ended with a win for Division Two.
tags! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity (if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)
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baratiddyappreciator · 5 months
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good afternoon/evening/night, I don’t know when you will read this :) I would like to make a request from you, it’s a bit late topic, I agree. But could you write about how the antagonists of season 3 (Spec, Dorian, Sikorsky, Doyle and Yanagi) will react to the fact that a shy reader gave them a valentine and chocolate (made by the reader himself), and ran away very embarrassed? I would be very grateful if you write this. Best wishes to you ! :)
Of course I can! Once again, very sorry for how long it took me to get to these lmao, I can say that I'm officially off hiatus but progress will be slow until I catch up.
Doyle:
He's so confused. What on earth are you doing?? Why did you just shove this box of random shit and some flowers into his hands and then run off like he had the bubonic plague?? Why are you so red??? What on earth is going on?? More importantly, why the actual fuck did you say 'Kyaaa~!' as you were leaving?? Are you cringe? Does he need to worry about you being cringe?
Give him a second, the man is a bit stunted when it comes to being around normal people. Been in the assassin game too long. When he opens to box to see some chocolates and reads the note with the valentine, then he'll put two and two together. Eventually. He may or may not have to look it up first before he puts two and two together.
Expect a sudden appearance at your house. A creepy one. Bro rocks up outside your window in the middle of the night like "hey hi hello do you have feelings for me??" and once you confirm he's going to tease you about it to the point where it's almost him just straight up being mean, but it's all he knows how to do. You might cry though, just a warning.
After all that? He barely acknowledges that you confessed to him. You can bring it up, and he'll just shrug and give you a "Yeah? What about it?" because he read that being aloof and uninterested can actually make him seem a bit more interesting to you. You're going to have to be direct with him, because otherwise he just won't understand what you want.
Sikorsky:
Run away all you want, you literally will not be able to outrun him. His legs are long and he's got the endurance. The man is scary, and he will get you to look him dead in the eyes and tell him with your words, because shoving a box and some flowers into his hands and then running away is rude and childish, and you're both grown adults.
He doesn't need a second, he's not dumb, he's had people confess to him before. He's pretty and he knows it, which makes his ego about 10x worse. He knows the moment he gets handed the box of chocolates and the roses. As mentioned, he'll hunt you down and make you use your words.
"Go on, say that you love me, I wanna hear you say it!" He's so mean about it, but he knows when to stop pushing. As soon as you admit that you like him, he'll tease you a little, feed his own ego a bit, and then be perfectly happy to move on to whatever happens next.
Oh he'll bring it up just to fluster you. He's a bit sadistic, so that is... Well, fairly frequently. Eventually you'll stop being as flustered about it, but still, he'll find a way to turn your confession into something he can use to tease and poke fun. Eventually though, it becomes something he looks back on fondly, and is so, so happy that you both remember it so well.
Yanagi:
A valentine? How childish. He's a grown man, he doesn't need this! You can run away if you want, he won't chase you. He knows you'll be back, and when you do come back, he's going to make you say what you feel properly, because otherwise, he's not likely to give you the time of day. Shy or no, simply running away is shameful and cowardly in his eyes.
He knows, he grew up with that culture, there's no need to tell him, though he outright refuses to touch the chocolates until you've come to him properly and talked to him instead of just running away all flustered. You're going to lose points for that approach in his eyes.
His judgmental and stuck-up ass is constantly going to demean you for just running away from him. He faced down Yujiro Hanma of all people, and he didn't run away! You've got no excuse, because clearly he's not nearly that terrifying! (He is, the little freak)
After the initial shaming and subsequent "Now do it again, but properly!" then that's pretty much it. Something he'll try to push out of his mind, which is a small mercy on his end because otherwise the relationship simply wouldn't happen purely because of that.
Dorian:
Awe, well isn't that adorable! And you put so much effort into this too! So flustered you couldn't even look him in the eyes before you took off! But you're forgetting that he's incredibly fast, even in his advanced age, so he absolutely simply let you go. If he'd wanted to catch you, he would.
Oh he's aware of what this means! And he's not above returning the favor either! As long as you don't ask too many questions about where he gets your gifts from, it's smooth sailing! He'd appreciate it if you questioned him simply being in your home one night even less, especially with how happy you'd clearly be with him returning your feelings!
Oh he's going to savor those chocolates! You worked so hard on them, and he's always had a bit of a sweet-tooth! As for the flowers, he's going to dry and preserve them, maybe even have them turned into a fragrance that he can wear on date night.
After all that, you really expect to stay single? Oh no, he's putting a claim on that as soon as physically possible, he just needs to make sure that you won't questions the suspicious things that happen around him. Like, you know, your neighbors all of the sudden not looking you in the eyes, your boss giving you less of a hard time. It's just because you're so happy, and not because he threatened them, it's definitely because you're so radiant!
Spec:
He's highly amused and he's going to do nothing to hide that fact. You're trying to run away? Oh, honey, he's already outpaced you and is ready to snatch you up and drag you off to go eat the chocolates you worked so hard on!
He's aware and he thinks it's both the most adorable and hilarious thing in existence. Did you really think he'd just let you run off on him? Oh no, nono, you're gonna stay here and say that you love him to his face and not through some letter, though he's still going to keep it. If he ever goes back to jail, he's going to hang it on the wall or the ceiling near his bed so it can be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.
He's going to tease you about it until you're so red you envy a stop-sign. And then he'll tease you a bit more, just for good measure. It's really hard to tell if he's just teasing you or if he's being genuine though, since his sense of humor is so skewed.
After all that? He lives in your house. You confessed, you gave him food and flowers. He's like a fucked up stray cat that has taken the small display of kindness as an invitation to just live in your home for however long he pleases. You're going to have a really hard time getting rid of him.
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