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#i tried so hard to make this shorter but that's just not the sort of person i am so here it is
madegeeky · 7 months
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Never thought I'd see a cop show be so fucking liberal and thoughtful as to acknowledge that a person who is diagnosed with psychopathy is not, by default, a serial killer. They have "persistent antisocial behavior, impaired empathy and remorse, and bold, disinhibited, and egotistical traits" (Wikipedia) but none of that means that they are going to (or have) become a serial killer. (The show uses the word "psychopathy" so that's what I'll be using.)
The basic premise of the show, which is the Korean drama Bad Guys, is that a detective uses 3 prisoners to help him fight crime, usually people who have killed repeatedly. There's the mobster, the hitman, and the aforementioned psychopath, Jung-moon.
It later turns out that Jung-moon has been framed for the serial killings that he went to jail for. He was framed, in fact, by the detective he is now working for because, well, he was a psychopath so that meant that it had to be him, even if there was no real evidence.
But it is wrong and the show specifically states that. It was wrong, the show says, that this was done to someone no matter what they were diagnosed with. It was wrong, the show says, that the detective assumed the worst of Jung-moon because of his diagnosis. It was wrong, the show says, that Jung-moon was sent to prison for years. It was cruel and awful and wrong.
And the show never refutes that Jung-moon has psychopathy! Never! No one ever calls it into question, tries to say that he didn't do the killings because he's not obviously not a psychopath. He has psychopathy but he still didn't deserve to go to jail or be treated the way he was treated. The psychopathy is never used as a reason to make it better or understandable that he was sent away.
They even have the detective apologize to Jung-moon! "I branded you as a psychopath, blaming everything on you," says the detective. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." There's no attempt to make excuses, to pretend that there was another reason he thought it was Jung-moon. He straight up just admits that that was the only reason he targeted Jung-moon. And he acknowledges that this was wrong and cruel of him.
The detective then gives Jung-moon his gun and tells him that he deserves to be shot by the other man. And Jung-moon puts the gun to the detective's head and says, "I can't feel the emotions you fee. Because I can't feel those feelings, I wanted to learn them. Whether it's blame, sadness, happiness, I learned from you for the past couple months." And then Jung-moon doesn't pull the trigger. He's a psychopath. He has low empathy and low self-control and he still doesn't kill the detective.
I just wasn't expecting such a nuanced, respectful, and kind look at a character diagnosed with psychopathy from a silly little cop drama which is basically just a mystery with cops being overly dramatic and a fuck ton of fight scenes. It was just incredibly refreshing to see.
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sweetrainbowcandy · 1 month
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A Logan x chubby!reader blurb <3 let me know if you guys want a part two <3
TW: Suggestive
Edit: part two here
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Logan never thought he’d get caught up with a pretty little thing like you.
You’re absolutely precious. Wade’s neighbor directly across from their now shared apartment. You’re shorter than him with the cutest chubby body, your legs and tummy jiggling subtly when you walk. It was enough to kill him, and that’s saying a lot for a man who can’t die.
You’d shared a couple brief greetings in the hallway, a polite smile from you and a nod from him. There was an afternoon him and Wade were walking back from helping the X-men on a mission where the two of them caught you struggling to pad down the stairs, looking nervously around your over-stuffed laundry basket with a focused, worried expression.
Logan didn’t know what came over him— sure, he was told beneath his spiky exterior he had a soft core, but he usually brushed off that comment as nothing more than people trying to make him feel better. Wade was halfway through throwing a teasing comment at you before Logan was already there, gently taking the laundry basket from your grasp and tucking it under his big arm.
Wade let out an over exaggerated gasp, and you immediately tried to reassure Logan you could do it yourself, but he was already headed down the stairs to the laundry room. Thats where you two formally introduced yourself to each other— and also Wade, who had followed the both of you downstairs since his FOMO was chronic.
You were precious, so fucking sweet and kind.
It was driving Logan crazy.
That’s why when Wade approached him asking if he could go over and fix your sink for you— you had asked Wade initially since you knew him better, but Wade told you to wait a moment while he talked to ‘the old ball and chain’— Logan knew that it was going to be a challenge.
Now, Logan wasn’t a plumber or anything, but in the two-hundred something years he’s been alive, you get around when you have to learn to provide for yourself. He took his toolbox he bought a couple weeks ago after Wade lost to the computers in Mario kart and got so pissed he broke the coffee table in the living room, so Logan bought and assembled a new one.
Knocking on your door, Logan found himself actually wondering if he looked okay, if his hair was too much of a mess and if his cowlicks made him look stupid. Little did he know you thought they were absolutely adorable.
You opened the door, blinking before smiling, opening it further and gesturing for him to come in, “Logan, hey!” You greeted softly, and he felt his heart rate speed up at the sight of the slight blush on your chubby cheeks, nodding as he stepped inside, “Sorry, I was expecting Wade,” you said with a small giggle.
Logan shook his head with a grunt, “Fucker can’t fix anything to save his life. Better at breaking shit,” he says, walking over into your sink and setting down the toolbox on the counter. He crouches to open up the cupboards beneath it, and he hears the subtle gulp from you behind him as you observed the muscles of his back flexing under his tight white tank.
“Well, I seriously can’t thank you enough,” you say softly, stammering a bit as you fidgeted with your slightly pudgy hands in front of you. Logan just nods, pushing down the voices in his head that screamed about how fucking cute you were, how he just wanted to grab you by your adorable chubby stomach and pound—
He blinked, grunting before turning back to the pipes, “‘S not a problem,” he says, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. He locates the problem, grabbing the desired tool and twisting a couple parts back into place.
You stood awkwardly behind him, your sweet scent enveloping him, and it was making it hard to focus. You smelt like vanilla, probably some sort of body butter or lotion based on how your skin glistened in the dim light of your apartment.
Focus, dammit.
“…Are you thirsty at all?” Your soft voice asks, and Logan pauses, pulling back out from under the sink to look up at you.
“Water’d be nice,” he nods, watching with a clenched jaw as you smile and pad over to your fridge, cursing softly under his breath at the sight of how your fat, jiggly ass bounced beneath the skirt of your sundress. You walk back over and hand it to him, and he quietly thanks you.
It’s a few more minutes of you standing there and watching him work before he pulls back, putting his tools away and checking the sink, watching as the water flowed out smoothly and patting the edge, “Should be good,” he says, and you grin ear to ear.
“Oh, Logan, thank you!” You say, walking over to where your purse sat on the counter and rifling through it before pulling out your pocketbook, “Let me at least pay you,”
Logan’s eyes briefly widen before he shakes his head, “No, no, you don’t gotta do that, bub,” he reassures, “I don’t do this lookin’ for payment.”
You stop pulling the bills out, “Are you sure?” You ask softly, and he nods. You felt bad not doing anything for him, “Are you sure there’s no way I can pay you back?” You ask, and Logan pauses, visibly tensing up. You tilt your head, unaware of the suggestive undertone of your words.
Yes, Logan thought, you can help me out by wrapping those soft lips around my cock. Logan prayed you couldn’t see the hunger that flashed behind his eyes. He just cleared his throat and shook his head, exchanging a couple more words with you before you thanked him and he went back to his apartment across from yours.
You shut the door and smiled, biting your bottom lip and holding back a giggle.
Maybe you’d mess with your sink on purpose again.
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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 7 months
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How would the aot boys react if they heard a rumor that reader has a crush on them
i heard a rumor….
eren jaeger is so nosey when he hears the rumor going around. he’s intrigued by your crush on him and he wants to know every little detail, of course by everyone else and not you. he gathers everyone’s opinion and saves you for last. he doesn’t beat around the bush; he tells you he knows that you’re crushing hardcore on him. he’s playful and witty, trying to get you all flustered.
armin arlert, bless his heart, tries to be cool about it. and he does a fairly good job you think. he often finds ways to get you two alone but he never makes a bold move. he asks if he can help you do things, tries to find common interests, etc. you know he knows because you find him trying to spend too much time with you, not that you’re complaining. he just lets things take their course.
jean kirsteins plays the disinterested, too-cool-for-you character. he’s damn good at it too. his actions and short replies hurt your ego and your heart. so, you give him the same treatment back. this, he’s not a fan of. he demands that you tell him why you’re treating him like this and you respond that you’re just dishing out what he is. that makes him go ‘oh’ and it results in a very around the bush way of telling you he has some sort of feelings for you but he was trying to repress it.
connie springer grins from ear to ear for days end when he hears the news. he was already crushing on you big time and now that you like him back, he’s convinced your soulmate. shamelessly, connie asks (it’s more of a statement) that you go on a date. you cant believe he knows. you want to just disappear when he confronts you but he doesn’t understand why. “am i coming on too strong? hold on, i can get weak in the knees real quick.”
levi ackerman acts like he doesn’t know about your feelings for him. his behavior isn’t much different than when he didn’t know- his eye’s just tend to linger on you a bit longer. his gaze makes you feel…violated. it’s like he’s looking right through you or undressing you with his eyes. hard to tell. he continues driving you crazy in various subtle ways until you can’t take it anymore and wind up confessing at him in a ‘why are you doing this to me’ moment. he just laughs.
reiner braun's interest is piqued, that's for sure. he's not so smooth about it, always turning into a flustered mess when he's around you. you, now beginning to panic he knows your secret, turn into a shorter flustered mess. your awkwardness makes all your friends laugh and they just tease you more, which causes more stuttering and the cycle repeats. eren's the one who finally sets you up, not able to bare any more of reiner's incoherence.
bertholdt hoover makes the brave decision of telling you how he feels. he doesn't pick the greatest time. he tells you in front of all your friends and that leaves you feeling a little pressured. so, you get up and drag him away from everyone. the two of you share a raw confessional in peace and quiet. it leaves your heart full.
zeke jaeger texts you as soon as eren tells him. he doesn't wait for any more clarification. the text reads, heard you're basically in love with me. I'll pick you up later: a man of his word, he comes and picks you up. you try to him he's ridiculous but he knows you're his future wife.
erwin smith does his best to avoid you. a crush is meaningless to him.but fuck, the way you look at him makes his heart stop. he's beginning to think that there's something wrong with him- he can't breathe when you're around him. one night, he has too much wine to drink and accidentally lets it slip that he knows. he decides he doesn't care anymore and kisses you on the forehead, leaving you confused about the way he feels about you.
porco galliard's too fucking cocky. he starts spreading the rumor himself once he gets wind of it. he tells everyone he knows, bragging about it over and over. the rumor makes it's way back to you and you want to cry. so, that's what you do. you know everyone knows, so he must know. porco catches you crying and is upset with himself for spreading it. he didn't know you'd be so embarassed, considering he ‘obviously feels the same way’
please go read my jean fic 🤍
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mintmatcha · 10 months
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"You guys are so lucky."
Ochako takes Izuku by the hand, that sweet, rosy smile filling her cheeks. The whole table whoops and hollers as Izuku brings her hand to his mouth and places a kiss directly on the engagement ring.
"I think we're pretty lucky too," Izuku whispers. Sero gags, finger in his throat, and Denki collapses into giggles. From across the table, Iida joins in, covering his smile with the back of his hand.
Tomorrow night, they'll be married. The ceremony is small, just a handful of friends and family, so most of you here won't be attending. You're fine with that- a couple of fancy cocktails is enough celebration for you.
"High school sweethearts," you sigh, "How romantic. I wish someone liked me in high school."
Sero snorts and Ochako sighs; you immediately know something is up. When you glance around the table, everyone is either avoiding your gaze or sniggering, partaking in some sort of shared secret. Turning to Iida for information, you find that he's the worst of them all, adjusting his glasses over and over again.
"You mean someone else," Denki says after a while.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Denki jerks his head to the side with a conspiratorial grin, "Iida was rock hard for you all through high school."
The man in question sputters-- hard. Iida chokes on his beer and dissolves into a round of coughs, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he tries to gather himself again. The rest of the table is a cacophony of sound: Izuku thumping the poor man's back, Sero and Denki are howling with laughter, Ochako scolding the gang. You want to laugh too because the idea feels impossible -Iida, the collected, calm, polite one of the group, certainly couldn't have been 'hard' for you-- but then you see his face.
"I-" Iida's glasses are halfway down is his nose, "That is not--"
"Oh my god, dude-- you're bright red!"
Iida really is scarlet. It runs down to his chest, shirt unbuttoned just enough that you can get a peek. He can't meet your eye, looking up and down aimlessly. You've never seen him like this before-- not with his exes, not with crushes; that makes something inside you flutter.
"Are you guys just teasing me?" You manage to laugh.
"You didn't know?" Izuku asks.
"No!"
"Are you kidding? Everyone else knew. This guy-" Sero pats Iida's broad chest, overly familiar - "Would lament about you all the time. About how you walked, how you dressed-"
"Sero Hanta-" Iida chides.
"-how you rolled your skirt after training," Denki finishes.
"I did not!" Iida quickly defends himself. His hands are wringing around his beer, tracing the same pattern over and over again as he glances around the group. His eyes never make it your way.
"Oh, you kinda did," Ochako cuts in with a giggle.
"Sorry, Iida. You did," Izuku agrees.
"Well, it wasn't- It's not because I thought you were--" he huffs, "The school dress code said skirts had to be past fingertip length, and yours were- You rolled the hem and--"
Iida swallows hard and finally meets your eye. He looks miserable, lips drawn into a straight line.
"Well, I wish you would have told me you liked me-"
"I did not like you."
"I would have rolled my skirts shorter."
The table breaks into laughter again, but Iida just grows pinker.
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cxrsed-angel · 11 months
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Cheer Skirt Misap: Hazel Callahan x Reader Smut
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word count: 1k
summary: Hazel finds your new cheer uniform attractive. Particularly the skirt and how short it is.
Warnings: Oral (r receiving), Hazel is an ass girl, slight spanking, hazel doing sexual activities when’s she probably shouldn’t be. After that fight. Reader is more feminine. 18+ MDNI
A/N: I watch bottoms 2 months ago and i haven’t stopped thinking about her and ruby cruz since, so here’s this. Also reader is a cheerleader. I wish I could come up with a clever title. Also Hazel gives me service top vibes.
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Hazel is sitting on your bed. She’s trying to listen to whatever you are talking about, but she can’t focus on anything besides how hot you look in your new cheer skirt. The skirt is white with blue and red on the bottom, falling just above your thigh. You had gotten the new uniforms for the big game against Huntington. She watches you move around your room, getting ready for the game, her eyes lingering on your legs and how short the new cheer skirt seemed compared to the old ones. 
“Pj was such a dick the other day. I mean, saying that about your mom was so out of line, babe, and I mean, you didn’t make a fake fight club to have sex with cheerleaders. You actually cared about female solidarity and everything. And you’re literally dating a cheerleader on your own accord without lying-“
You pause your rant about PJ, turn around, and see Hazel sitting in your bed, staring at the lower half of your body. It’s clear she isn’t paying attention. You walk closer to your bed and see her bruised face from the fight at the pep rally. You frown, knowing she probably had some sort of concussion that was making it hard to focus.
“Hazel? Hazel, are you okay…do you need to lie down? Am I talking too fast?”
Hazel looks up at you with her blue eyes bruised black and purple, but they’re still big and bright as she looks at you. 
“I-um, no, I was just thinking about something else.” 
You sit beside her on your bed, your thighs touching hers in her black jeans. Hazel's eyes linger on your upper thighs again before tearing her eyes away. She feels her heart beating faster in her chest, trying not to stare at your legs, trying to ignore the ache in between her thighs. She feels a bit guilty being so turned on as you look at her, so worried and concerned. 
“Oh? Thinking about what?” You see Hazel look a bit flustered at your question, and you relax a bit. You could tell it wasn't something bad, but you were still intrigued about what was on her mind. 
“Um. I was just thinking about you and how you look cute in your cheer skirt,” she tells you the truth partially, slightly nervous and embarrassed to admit that your skirt had turned her on so much. 
You smile at the compliment. “Oh, thanks, babe! We got new cheer uniforms since it's like the biggest game ever, but they are a bit shorter.” You get off your bed and look at the skirt through your mirror. It’s a few inches shorter than your usual cheer skirt. You thought you got the wrong size at first, but they just ended up being that short. “I'm glad we were shorts underneath, or I would literally flash the crowd.” 
Hazel smiles, laughing a bit at your comment, eyes still gazing at your lower half. “Well, it looks really good on you. Maybe shorter skirts make you more aerodynamic, help you fly up higher or something.” 
 Hazel suggests innocently when she knows thats probably not the reason your skirt is so short it's almost showing your ass considering your team’s pep rally performance.  You laugh a bit, smiling at her reasoning. 
“I really don't think that’s the reason, baby.” 
She toys with the bottom of your skirt lightly as she continues. “No, I think it is! Maybe it could help with the-the air and going up and-and flips and stuff because there less..fabric?” 
Hazle tries to justify but fails, making you laugh more. You find her attempt cute, though. Her blue eyes linger on your thighs again, gazing at them before she pulls you onto her lap by your hips, quickly kissing your lip-glossed lips suddenly. You suck in a sharp breath at the unexpected kiss, closing your eyes and melting against her the familiar feeling of her lips. You feel Hazel’s hands grasp your hips tighter as she kisses your lips, pressing against each other. Your arms go around her neck.
You break apart from the kiss slightly, looking at the playful smile on her lips and her face flushed and red, her eyes wide as she looks back. You can tell she’s turned on, and if her gaze didn’t give it away, her hands creeping up under the skirt did. 
“You’re really happy over these aerodynamic skirts, huh?” you smile at her, knowing that was not the reason she couldn’t keep her hands off you. You could tell it was because of how the shorts showed off your legs and a bit of your ass. 
Hazel pulls you against her passionately. Your lips crash together, kissing you again. She pulls you by your hips back on top of her. You feel her hands lightly moving down your back. She can’t keep her hands off of you, but you move your lips off slowly as you realize how things are progressing. You stare at Hazel, hesitant when you remember.  
“Hazel…are you sure you can do…more strenuous activities? You know you were beat up pretty badly, babe.” you look concerned as you sit up, moving off of her. You move off from on top of her and sit back on your bed. 
She nods excitedly like there is no problem, like she didn’t get the shit kicked out of her the other day and is perfectly okay. 
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine. I’m like almost 100% better anyways.” Hazel tries to sound sure, but you can tell she isn’t. You nod, still not fully unconvinced. You saw the fight and know she had taken quite a beating, and the last thing you wanna do is make it worse by having sex. 
You pause, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “Babe, I really don’t think we should be doing anything. Plus, we have to be at the football game in like an hour.” Hazel nods, pouting her lip a bit as she thinks. You watch her fidget with her silver rings as she thinks of a solution, clearly not taking no for an answer. 
“Oh! Wait, wait, I got it.” Hazel looks excited, her blue eyes excited. She lays down on your bed. “I’ll just eat you out.” You pause, thinking for a few minutes about her solution,  
“I don’t know Hazel…what about you-”
 She cuts you off, hungrily kissing your lips as they press against hers. She cups your cheek and slips her tongue in your mouth. You melt instantly, feeling that warm feeling you get every time you kiss. After making out for a few minutes, you feel her pull away, your head a bit dizzy from the kiss.
“Please let me eat your pretty pussy. I promise I’ll be fine,” Hazel begs as she looks at you, slowly rubbing circles on your hips. Her words go straight to your core, turning you on.  
You look at her and give in, unable to resist her big blue eyes. “Fine, but you’re stopping the second you get dizzy or something feels off.” Hazel nods as her grip on your waist tightens as she looks up at you excitedly. 
She pulls your black lacey underwear from under your cheer skirt and throws them somewhere off in your room. You lean down and cup her face with her face, your lips crushing onto hers again, making out. Hazel moves her hands down, lightly squeezing your ass. Her lips linger, touching against yours as she looks up at you. 
You move, placing your hips over her face. You look at her as she stares back excitedly. You slowly lower yourself on her lips and waste no time licking around your wet and puffy folds. She licks along your lips slowly, and you gasp at the feeling of her tongue. She continues moving her tongue as you try to hold your hips, trying not to thrust them, Hazel’s injuries still in the back of your mind. You moan out her name as she sucks on your clit. 
“Fuck Hazel, please don't stop.” you close your eyes, grabbing the side of her sheets and slowly rolling your hips against her lips. 
She grips your ass under your cheer skirt, squeezing it. Her tongue slips inside your entrance, and your moan grows louder as her motions speed up slightly, eating you out like she’s starved. Your face grows hotter as you feel the arousal building; you feel yourself getting wetter under her touch. She places a smack on your ass, and you moan, not expecting to like it as much as you did.  
“Fuck, baby! I'm close!-yes, right there! Fuck Hazel!” 
Your back arch letting out a breathy moan as your orgasm gets closer. You thrust, moving your hips faster as she swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. You feel yourself coming undone as your orgasm hits. Cumming around Hazel’s lips. You breathe deeply and slowly move from on top of her, sitting in your bed. Hazel sits up, her chin wet and lips swollen. 
You look at her, wiping your wetness off her lips. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy, or do you have a headache?” 
Hazel smiles and shakes her head. You nod, still catching your breath. You feel her hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly, feeling her cold rings on your skin. 
“Yes, I’m fine; never been better.” She beams, happy from her previous activities. You kiss her lightly before standing up to finish getting ready for the game against Huntington. Hazel leans against her arms, watching you in your bed. 
“But after I feel better, I’m gonna have to fuck you in that skirt.” you turn around at her words, a bit shocked at how bluntly she put it. 
“Oh? You are. And eating me out while I'm wearing it isn't enough?” Hazel shakes her head lightly. 
“No. I mean, it's good enough for right now, but the thought of watching you bounce on my strap in that cute little skirt is making me feel a bit foggy and extremely turned on.” 
You nod as you return to putting on your makeup for the game. “Well, get a doctor’s note, and we can make that happen.”  
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caraetdeul · 20 days
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Right Beside You
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Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader
Distance is nothing when you've got a love like this.
TW: None. Fluff, Long distance relationship, use of nicknames, some light cursing, slight mention of sex but nothing exclusive
A/n: this was shorter than the usual ones I write but nonetheless, it was still fun to do. Here's a fluff fic for Coups as a remedy for the angsty ones. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!
~Main Masterlist~
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You’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. If you haven’t felt the exhaustion in your body already, then the prominent bags under your eyes will definitely tell you that you are. But it’s not much of a surprise for you at this point because you know that the reason behind this isn’t something that should be astronomically studied. Instead, it all stems from the fact that you can’t sleep alone ever since your relationship with Seungcheol started.
Maybe there’s some sort of scientific reason as to why your boyfriend’s weight on your body as you cuddle up with each other is the only thing that can calm you enough to fall asleep. But maybe it can all just be a coincidence and you’re just having a mental breakdown at the thought of sleeping by yourself. Either way, nothing helps. And just like every night since Seungcheol left for his world tour, you’re left on your shared bed by yourself, staring at the ceiling while contemplating if the time difference between you won’t be much of a bother for him.
You know how tiring his work as an idol can be. Even when you’re far from him, there’s no doubt how much his job takes a toll on him just based on the updates you get from his messages and his group’s social media accounts. But even then, you still witness how hard he worked for each project they had. The passion and love that they give, not just for their work but also for their fans, are unmatched. As for you, you’ve never been so proud of someone until Seungcheol walked into your life and you always make sure he knows it. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t share the sentiment with you every time. So whenever you both come home from working all day, all your energy may be drained with the day’s demands but it will never hinder you from spending quality time within the comfort of each other’s arms. Safe to say, that was how your days always end.
Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol’s not faring any better than you. Jet lag may be a bigger factor in his exhaustion but he couldn’t deny that being without you by his side is also affecting him. Now that he thinks about it, that’s probably why the other members have been very mindful of everything that they do around him ever since they left the country. So when your phone rang just as you were about to Facetime him yourself, you knew right then and there that you weren’t alone in your misery. The relief of finally seeing your face once again washed over him the moment that you answered, the tension leaving his body in the meantime.
“Hi honey,” Seungcheol smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling with poorly hidden mirth, “Sorry, did I wake you?”
You hummed, “No, I was already awake. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just missing you.”
Your heart melted at his innocent confession. You can feel your cheeks warm up as you reply bashfully, “I miss you too.”
Seungcheol’s smile widened but immediately turned upside down once he got a good look at you. Concern was written all over his face as he looked at you through the screen.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“Have you been sleeping?”
“Yes.”
Seungcheol sighed and you knew he caught your lie.
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”
You inhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not much of a why but more of a how…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how I’ve been sleeping with you ever since we got together?”
Seungcheol snorted, his cheeks turning pink, “Oh, honey.”
 Your eyes widened once you realized the double meaning behind what you just said. The screen shook as you immediately sat up, your hands waving around as you tried to explain yourself, “That’s not what I meant! I promise! I was talking about how we’re sleeping together— beside each other! Beside. Each. Other. On the bed. Innocently. Not sex. Definitely not sex. But not like I’m saying that I don’t want to do that either ‘cause I do but that’s not what I meant. I just—”
Seungcheol’s laughter finally registered in your mind, effectively stopping you from digging yourself into a deeper hole. You pouted annoyed, “I hate you.”
“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol cooed, still laughing in between words, “I couldn’t help it. You were just being all cute and shit as you tried to defend yourself.”
You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as a smile fought its way onto your face. You then giggled when Seungcheol hadn’t stopped laughing, his joy outright contagious. As his laughter died down, so does yours. The air in your room was lighter than before and you only have your boyfriend to thank for.
“Now be honest, what’s the real reason why you’re not sleeping?”
You sighed, your voice softer with slight embarrassment, “I couldn’t sleep without your big arm around me and your body snuggled onto my side.”
His eyes softened, smiling remorsefully at the thought, “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I was there to be with you.”
You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I know your work is very important and I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t want to be in between you and your work. I can deal with this in the meantime. This will pass, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
The side of his lips twitched in thought, still unbothered by your situation despite your reassurances. His mouth opened, about to say something more but he was cut off by someone in the background shouting his name. You watched him from the other side of the screen as he talked to the person just out of the camera’s view.
Seungcheol turned back to you with a grimace, “Honey, I’m sorry but I got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Please, try and get some sleep. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You sent a flying kiss and laughed when Seungcheol caught it in the most dramatic way possible before ending the call. It wasn’t even a minute later when the silence of the bedroom dampened your mood. You sighed, lying down on your bed once again. You check the time on the bedside table, realizing that you only have 4 hours before you need to get up and go to work. Shuffling under the covers in an attempt to get comfortable as much as you can, you closed your eyes dreading another sleepless night.
~~~~~
It’s been a week since you had that call and since then, your sleep wasn’t getting any better.
You trudged your way into your apartment, exhausted from a stressful day at work. You probably had 3 cups of coffee already by lunchtime and an energy drink that was given to you by your coworker who had already witnessed you nodding off multiple times on your desk. Despite all of it, your sleepless nights were definitely catching up to you.
You made your way to your couch, leaving your shoes messily by the door. It’ll just be future me problem, you thought as you stumble through your living room. Plopping down on your couch, you were met by a big rectangular box on your coffee table with a note on top. Your senses immediately woke up, slowly panicking at the thought that someone was inside your apartment without you knowing. You cautiously took the note, eyeing the exterior of the box as if it were some kind of bomb waiting to explode on you. But once you opened the note, your heart slowly went back to its normal pace as you read through the letter.
To my loving and gorgeous partner in crime and in life,
I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping ever since I left and I know it’s because I’m not there with you to hold you while you sleep. So to make up for my absence, I bought this for you. Hopefully, it can suffice for the time being. I even sprayed it with my perfume so it would feel closer to the real deal. Stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you soon.
Lots of love,
Seungcheol
P.S. Joshua got bored in the hotel so he begged me to embroider a small part of it. Couldn’t really deny his request when he told me his idea.
P.P.S. Please, don’t panic once you see the package in your apartment. I asked your mom to bring it to you and I told her where the spare key is.
You immediately opened the package and almost sobbed once you saw what was inside. You slowly pulled out the folded weighted blanket from the box which was also in your favorite color. Even from a distance, you could already smell Seungcheol’s perfume all over it which only made you want to cry more. As you unfolded the blanket on your lap, you finally found the embroidered part of the blanket which was on the top left corner. You laughed under your breath in amusement and awe once you realized that Joshua embroidered a chibi version of your favorite animal holding a big cherry and underneath it were both of your initials in red thread.
It was perfect.
That night, Seungcheol received a selfie of you snuggled up under the blanket with the embroidered part, which he was guessing was right over your heart. You then received a selfie of his own, which shows his dimpled smile with a half-heart sign on his cheek. Needless to say, you finally got a good night’s sleep.
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Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys
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writingoddess1125 · 1 year
Note
hello!! ⭐, I saw that your order section was open and yesterday I read your story of buggy with the Roger effect and Jessica Rabit and I loved it, and I would like to know if you could do a one shot or something shorter if you prefer showing how they met and they decided to get married I love your stories and I think that, like your buggy, he is my favorite character. If you don't like this request or you think it's not good to do it, you can just ignore it, it won't be a bad thing 😸 thank you and have a good day!! 💗✨ (pd. English is not my first language so sorry if something is not written well😔)
Deal! I love this little idea
Buggy x FemReader
Small angst + Fluff
Heart on my Sleeve
Prequel Of Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect
Wanna Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️
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• Your village was one of the poorest villages in the East Blue, the taxes from the World Goverment crippling your home to be a starving wasteland.
• Mainly to the wealthy Governor who lived above your town.
• You owned a fabric shop but the fabrics you owned were old and starting to rot from the lack of buissness. The moths having more use put of your fabrics then you did-
• The newest pirate on the scene Buggy the Clown shows up to your village ready to pillage it, in his early 20s with a fresh faced crew. However they did not expect the village to look worse then before they arrived.
• "I thought you said this place had money?" Buggy asked as he looked at the place. Lowering his blades as it looked like this place- it was in shambles. Like it had been pillaged to time then a pirate
• You had walked out of your shop, seeing if maybe the baker had just enough flour so you could feed yourself. Turning to see the group of pirates that seemed better off then you and your people.
• Buggy stared hard at you and matched forward, seeing that you were quite pretty in his eyes as he stood before you.
• "You! Tell me what the hell is wrong with this place! We heard it was rich here!" He said angrily, clearly upset at not getting to a small village that at least had a few Berries.
• You looked up at the pirate, noting the far too big of clothes for his frame and his painted face- Not liking he was putting such an unflattering green around his watercolor eyes. His face twisting up in anger as he caught you staring at his face.
• "What are you staring at!? You looking at my nose!" He yelled angrily, his fingers going to the inner part of your coat where you assumed some weapon would be.
• "No your shirts too big for your frame and that shade of green doesn't compliment your eyes well" You said truthfully, At this point a knife or bullet being a kinder death then starving anyway-
•"U-Uh- What?" He said confused, Unsure how to answer. You reaching forward and putting your arms around his frame to pull back the shirt. Taking a pin from your pocket and pinning the shirt back so it fit properly.
• "See- Your shirt is too big. It looks better fitted like that" You pointed out, His faze looking down at the pinned back shirt. His face red at how close you got to him, or that you'd touched him at all.
• "As for money we have non. The governor has the taxes so hide no one here can even feed themselves" You said truthfully, The young clown blinking at you in surprise.
• "Er- Y-Youre making fun of me somehow right? Like my Nose" He tried to yell again grabbing the front of your dirty shirt- clearly not used to someone trying to give him kind useful advice without some sort of motive.
• "I would never make fun of your nose, it looks fine to me anyways" You snap back and slap his hand away calmly. He blinked at you surprised and released your hand- His eyes going up the hill of the village and seeing the grand governors house hidden in some trees.
• He huffed and shoved you hard, you falling into the mud as him and his crew marched past up to the Governors home.
• However what did surprise you was the next Morning the Captian and his Crew stood in the village square and announced he now owned the village. Saying he was Buggy the Clown- and that he was now in charge.
• Before starting to hand out some stolen treasure??? Giving some supplies he had 'liberated' from the Governors house.
• You also noticed how his eyes lingered on you as he did this.
• It had been a few months like this, he would stop by randomly pay for the village. He wasn't taking taxes but instead paying things- it was improving greatly, the cracks of the pavements on the streets getting repaired, new paint on the building and new businesses flourishing-
• But you noticed how he would pay extra attention to your shop- Getting all his things from you. How you got extra rolls of fabric delivered to your door or how he would pay for all these extra accessories to his costumes.
• "You seamstress I want another coat!" He yelled as he invaded your shop.
• Buggy was there again, asking for another ridiculous costume. You couldn't help but notice how often he was coming by- claiming he wanted new costumes by you and wanting to be measured everytime he came in.
• How he would blush when you measured around his chest. "You know, I noticed you always come through here and stop specifically at my shop for new outfits when you wear the same coat" You tease, watching him blush at you pointing this out.
• "So what!" He yelled out, his face as red as a cherry. You look at him and raise a brow at him, Not even having to say a word as Buggy deflated.
• "...I uh wanted to take you on a date" He grumbled, finally admitting what his plans were. You smiled at this, Setting the tape aside.
• "Now please do tell me, Why should I accept your offer for someone who not only yelled in my face but pushed me in mud-" You point out, even though you knew he most likely made up for it by him saving your village.
• "..I am sorry about that.." He forced out, you could tell he wasn't used to apologizing and was trying his hardest.
• "I forgive you, But that doesn't mean I'll forget" You say calmly. Smiling softly as you saw him looking ready to flip put at the rejection but you held a hand to him-
• "I know- So why don't we make a deal. Since I can tell you're really sorry why don't we agree to dinner and go from there? Its not a date per say but its a start" You said with a smile, his eyes lit up at hearing this at the prospect of getting to win you over.
• "Really!?" He says excitedly, Jumping up and down like a school boy as he blushed and giggled into his gloved hands like a kid. You couldn't help but find it adorable-
• For the next year Buggy would send gifts, love letters, help rebuild the village. Do everything to get in your good graces and ask for a official date every time he visited.
• Buggy would essentially own the Village at the point, 30% of his money went to the village to get it on its feet and keep it a small strip of paradise the very limited taxes he implimented later affer the village was florishing acted as a small form of secondary income. Mainly making sure people knew the place was protected by him as his reputation grew through time.
• Him even showing his unique Devil fruit abilties- Which you often abused for him to float up and grab the more expensive rolls of fabric or hang up finished cloths.
• The village also being a popular tourist destination for the friendly locals and nice scenery. So for Buggy it was worth the investment since originally put in.
• After that 'probation' year you would finally agree to officially date him and he was over the damn moon.
• While he would be secretive about you, his love language was strong. He is both physically and verbally affectionate- While he still throws his fits you know how to handle him well. Loving him both for his strengths and flaws.
• It would be 1 years of dating before Buggy would start planning how to pop the question.
- You were closing up shop for the day, humming along to a made up tune when you heard the back door of your shop being unlocked. You didn't have to look to know who it was, only one other person had the key to it.
"Hey Buggy Boo" You call out, smiling as you heard Buggy grumble and peel off his boots to leave them by the front door.
"That is still such a bad nickname" He grumbled before walking behind you and kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you. He smelled like the sea, clearly having just gotten off his shop to visit you. He had been taking more time out to see, wanting to get his bounty higher. Currently proud of his 5,000,000 berry bounty which for a early 20s pirate was fairly good he claimed.
"Ah you love it" You giggle which earned a adorable chuckle from the man.
"You know (Y/N)- I uh really like you and Want to spend my.."
"So I wanted us to have dinner tonight- I know you like that place down the street and want us to go there" He said, his voice very soft- Much softer then normal.
Smiling you turn around and kiss him on the lips.
"I'd love to" You say cheerfully, earning a crooked smile from him as he held you close.
As promised, that night Buggy took you to your favorite restaurant. Having gotten a private table in the back, you two spending hours just talking and sharing a meal together.
Buggy even pulling out a box of your favorite candies he had gotten out from his last adventure.
After dinner he lead you away to the more scenic parts of your Village a small meadow pass that had the most beautiful blue and white flowers, under the moonlight it looked so magical. You saw Buggy reach in his pockets and turn to face you, nervousness painted on his face as he shuffled his feet. Clearly prepared to get on one knee-
"You stole my Thunder!!" He cried in faux anger, you laughing hard as he ranted about how you knew so quickly, happy tears running down your cheeks as you smiled and his face turned deep red.
"Yes I will!" You said with a wide smile, your excitement getting the best of you as you slapped your hands over your own mouth. His jaw dropping in shock.
"I've been planning this for 4 months!!" He whined, face so red his nose was glowing as he stared at you.
"Im so sorry Baby, You just- You talk in your sleep my Love." You reveal with a smile, His face twisting up as he realized you'd known the whole time and let him try to have his moment anyway. You had just got too excited and answering too quickly-
As this sunk in he smiled widely and started to laugh, he couldn't help it! You were just too perfect for him! Despite everything you still let him have the spotlight. He kissed your lips eagerly and held you close, rocking the two of you side to side in pure joy.
"I.. I love you (Y/N)..So much- I cant wait for you to be my wife.." He said as he pressed his face into your neck- You could feel the warmth of tears hitting your skin exposed. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as you hug him close and cried against him in joy.
Pulling the both of you to the ground with a loud laugh as you two laid in the flowers- Laughs leaving you both as tears stilled from both of your eyes.
"I love you too Buggy Boo"
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rosesdrop · 5 months
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Pick a weapon
What do they like about you
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(Note: remember, this is a general reading so not everything is going to resonate perfectly, I might open personal reading services later, but for now, enjoy your reading ⭐❤💞)
Pile 1:
You have such luminous skin, there's possibly an age gap between you and this person, they like your resting bitch face, and how stubborn you are, such a gloomy mood that gives off adam's family and these sorts of gothic vibes, you've got sleepy eyes that are mesmerizing, and such a hard temperament, you're hard to please in this person's eyes, you make them so overwhelmed with all the kinds of moods that you carry within you, it makes this person have a hard time understanding you, you are always trying new things and it's just too much for this person, they have no idea where you get all this energy from. It could even be that you're from a different ethnicity and this person tries to understand you better, it makes them curious about you and they like it. Even when you talk it's too hard catching up with you, you're so expansive about all the topics in your conversation, you like to discuss all kinds of different subjects, this person adores that, they see how philosophical you are. They don't understand your mind, they're having such a hard time figuring you out pile 1 😂, it's such a struggle they're trying so hard, but they like it, the fact that you are bigger than the sun itself, how much you can overwhelm them and they get so burned out by your energy(I don't mean it in a negative way), the fact that you're not a force to be wreckend with. They just feel like you're too much for them to handle. You're most likely either a fire or an air sign. They mainly like your mood states , your emotional and temperamental center, it's so dramatic and entertaining. Your effect is just fatal on them, you're even making them have physical reactions upon how charged up they get around you, the reason for that could be that you have expansive energetic field, some of you could also have bigger and more curvier bodies. An additional message that I'm getting is that you get influenced by the moon cycles, you possibly get more energetic and lively that normal at night.
Pile 2:
You are very graceful in the way you talk, you may be sending blessings to people around you constantly and praying for others. They like your beauty, they find you to be just 'pretty'. They also like how wise you are, if you wear dresses this person likes seeing them on you, you are maybe on the shorter side and they find your height to be cute. Earth signs. They like how courageous you are, you can be so calm and steady when facing adversities and they find this so strong from you, you are the type of person that has a silent strength to them. You are so solid , so sure of yourself that it's hard to shake you. You always have the right sense of what to do. They like your smell, if you wear some kind of perfume they really like the smell of it. You could always be scoring the highest grades at any work you do, you're always so productive, and if you like cooking, you make the best food ever. This person sees you as self-reliant and self-sufficient, someone that doesn't like wasting much time on nonesense, and a person that keeps to themselves, and again, that makes them see you as very smart and wise.
Pile 3:
They like how sensitive you are to the environment around you, and how overly critical you are of everything, you might like crime movies that awaken your investigator side, to find clues and solve riddles. If you have green eyes specifically they like them, also how you put on your makeup. You're unapologetic in everything you do, you do whatever you want to do anyways, they're fascinated by that, it's like, you give the sense that you are elusive about what you want to do, especially the way you act about things, but you surprise them with the results, you may seem like you're just playing around at first impression but then this person gets impressed by the things you can achieve. You don't ask much from people. You're very unpredictable to this person, they think that you're a lucky and special person, unlike anyone else they've ever known.
Pile 4:
You're older than this person, or they like your maturity. They like how friendly you are, you give off this sense of familiarity to them and they feel welcomed and well treated in your presence and they respect you for that. You have an inspirational impact on this person, they take your words to heart, and they resonate with them, they give them space for creative pursuits and create space for new ideas in their mentality. If this person felt misunderstood and lost in the past you give them a new vision, a better one. The color black and gothic type of clothing fits you in their view, they think you're aloof and eccentric, you have a sharp mind but your ideas for them-they have a hard time organizing every thought proposed by you according to the actual situation, your thinking is superior for them.
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petrichor-han · 3 months
Text
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WC | 0.3k
WARNINGS | slight allusions to sexual content but nothing explicit, soft kissing, teasing
A/N | ok i’m not sure if this was a request lmao but i wanted to say a little bit about it anyways 😭😭 ahhh this would fix me too, literally when is it my turn 🗣️ (and to anyone else seeing this, my requests are open until july 16 if you want to send in an ask as well.) repost because my tags are being horrible with putting asks in tags ahhh :(
REQUEST! | EVENT MASTERLIST
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no because this actually just awoke something in me… wth i need a pretty man in my lap right now!!
i feel like it’d start off as a joke, almost. he’d walk over to you, singing your name and poking you and trying to get your attention in any way possible. when that doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he drapes his legs across your lap, whining about how mean you are, how you’re not paying any attention to him—how dare you not? how could you resist your beautiful boy?
so you wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer, so that he’s fully seated in your lap. it’s not too hard—he’s light as a feather, shifting him easily. it’s quite easy for you to manhandle him, even if your stature is much shorter than his. it also helps that he’s halfway making the movements himself, not one to turn down any sort of affection from you now that he’s finally gotten your attention.
he fits a little awkwardly, his long limbs curling up and trying to get comfortable as you chuckle and place a hand on his thigh, looking up at him with a smirk.
he’s a little frazzled as he tries to get comfortable, reminding you a little of a cat that just can’t settle down. a light blush dusts across his cheeks—he’s embarrassed, something that doesn’t happen often.
“aw, is hannie embarrassed?” you coo playfully, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his neck, eliciting a soft whimper from between his lips.
“no,” he drawls, gently tangling his fingers in your hair as you kiss his neck, “not embarrassed…” he mutters this under his breath, exhaling deeply as you start to nip at his neck. you can feel him squirming in your lap, trying his best to stifle his whines and whimpers. he doesn’t want to let you win—he simply won’t let you win.
it’s a playful, teasing battle of who will give in first—new territory for the both of you, as jeonghan shifts in your lap, enjoying the position much more than he initially thought he would.
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© petrichor-han 2024, all rights reserved.
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Text
Ingrid Engen & Mapi León x Reader
-Annoying-
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yay (kind of hate the ending but lol)
Ingrid Engen & Mapi León x Reader -Annoying- 🩷
🌸
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning sunshine?” Lucy smirked as she caught sight of you walking into the change room with a scowl covering your face. “Where are the other two, thought you guys were attached at the hip.” Lucy continued to tease.
“I can’t deal with Mapi right now, so I am going to stay far away from her otherwise I will kill her.” You said to your national teammate trying to control your emotions and stay calm. The morning started like any other waking up between your two girlfriends, engulfed in warmth until you all had to get up and get ready for training.
You don’t know why but Mapi had woken up in an extra annoying mood and her sole purpose was to make you want to pull your hair out. She knew how much you hated to be poked and tickled so all she had been doing those exact things, in the bathroom, when you were making coffee, when you just passed each other in your morning routines and even when you were walking down the stairs causing you to almost slip as well as lose your shit. Mapi had also turned to making fun of your height, you were only a few centimetres shorter then the older women but that was enough for her.
You had grown up with three older brothers who took pride in how ticklish you were and who sit on you and poke and prod until you couldn’t breathe. They had traumatised you so much that you hated anyone even making the movement of poking or tickling as it made you squirm. Yet Mapi didn’t care, loving your pouting face when she did it.
She had riled you up so much you had decided to drive yourself to training instead of getting driven by Ingrid. “You're an idiot.” Ingrid directed to Mapi, shaking her head as she watched you pull out of the driveway.
“Come on, it was just a joke, Corazón.” Mapi said, trying to defend herself.
“You know how much Y/N hates you poking and tickling her, and yet you continued.” Ingrid replied, grabbing her keys from the counter to take the other car to training since you had taken the main one.
“She’ll get over it.”
You in fact did not ‘get over it’ instead you worked hard to ignore your Spanish girlfriend through the entire training session, moving away when she stood too close, ignoring her calls from across the field, deciding to only speak to the older woman when you were placed on the same team for a game at the end of training.
Ingrid watched from the sidelines with Frido and Keira sat on either side of her, she laughed lightly as you scored a goal moving to high five your team members except for Mapi who had her hand up for you only to get brushed. “What's up with your girls?” Frido asked.
“Mapi was annoying Y/N and now Y/N won’t speak to Mapi so I’m just leaving them to sort it out, like always.” The three watched as Mapi ran by you pushing out a finger to hit your side, you scowled, hitting her hand away while Mapi smirked back winking.
“At the World Cup Ella and Alessia tried to tickle Y/N, she almost killed them. Lucy can vouch for me, she was the one having to hold little miss sunshine back from strangling them.” Keira said remembering the time you had been napping on one of the couches at national camp and Ella and Alessia had woken you up by tickling you under your arms and around your neck.
“Mapi needs to learn when to stop and she will learn her lesson once she takes it too far. Y/N did grow up with three older brothers.” Ingrid said shrugging her shoulder, she’d seen enough of Mapi teasing you and she knew you always got the last laugh.
Not even a minute later Mapi had snuck up on you and proceeded to tickle you, you let out a scream as you tried to get out of her tight grasp. You had finally been pushed over the edge and once you finally got out of her grip you turned around using all your force to tackle your Spanish girlfriend to the ground. Mapi wasn’t a typically ticklish person but you knew of the one spot on her neck that was very ticklish.
So with Mapi’s arms pinned under your knees your hands made their way to that spot that made the defender laugh and squirm underneath you. Mapi begged you to stop, being too weak from being tickled to throw you off. After a few moments she finally mustered the strength to get her arms from under your knees to grab your waist and flip you over onto your back.
“Calm down mi amor.” Mapi laughed as she now had your hands pinned down.
“I hate you.” You said through gritted teeth.
“I am sorry I have been annoying you. I will stop now if you calm down.” Mapi said looking down at you with her signature smirk plastered on her face.
“I hope you know I will get you back.” You stared back up at her as she got off you offering you her hand to be pulled up.
“I’m sure you will Cariño.” The slightly taller woman said, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, smirking as she noticed you trying to hide your smile at the action. The whistle had been blown to end the game without you two realising so you both started to walk to your other girlfriend who stood talking with Frido and Keira waiting for you both.
Mapi stopped to talk as you grabbed a water bottle to drink from, before you made your way to the locker room you had one last plan. Turning to Mapi once again who had her back faced to you, you put your foot up and pushed it into the back of her knee successfully giving her a dead leg. You laughed loudly as her knee crumbled, with the mix of the dead leg and the hard training session her leg wasn’t working.
You weren’t sticking around to deal with Mapi’s annoyance, ignoring her colourful language and laughing as Ingrid hit her on the back of the head running to fall into step with Lucy. You were quick to move to the shower once you got back to the locker room. You had finished getting dressed in your (Ingrid’s) hoodie and some shorts.
“You are annoying.” Mapi said as the three of you said your goodbyes and moved to the parking lot to head home.
“I know.” You smiled back. “But I’ll go get some stuff for dinner on the way home, so you can’t stay mad at me.” You said as you walked to the car you had taken while Ingrid and Mapi walked to the other one.
Starting the car and pulling out, sending light smiles to the fans that were hanging around the entrance. Your shopping trip was quick, grabbing the last few things to make your mum's famous soup recipe before making your way back home. Quickly grabbing your training bag and shopping bags from the boot you unlocked your front door and headed into the kitchen.
Blowing a kiss to Ingrid who sat on the couch reading a book, not knowing where your other lover was but just figured she was in your shared room somewhere. Not having to start dinner for another two hours you put all the groceries away before moving to the couch flopping down so your head was sat on Ingrid's lap.
“Hei Kjære.”(Hello Darling) Ingrid smiling down at you moving to press a soft kiss to your lips, you smiled against hers as she pulled away to continue her book. You smiled as Bagheera jumped up onto your lap, your fingers threaded themselves though his fur getting a satisfied purr from the cat.
You were too focused on Bagheera to notice Mapi finally made her way from the bedroom to the lounge. The older woman smiled at the scene in front of her before moving to take Bagheera away. “Hey, give me my precious boy back.” You whined as Mapi moved the now sleeping cat to his bed.
“No cause you need to hug tu novia.”(your girlfriend) Mapi smiled, moving to lay down.
“You're annoying though.” You looked up at her teasingly.
“Lástima.”(Too bad) Mapi said before running full speed ahead to launch herself on top of you. Immediately burying her head into your neck, your hands made their way up her hoodie to scratch her back lightly.
“Why can’t you get along like this all the time.” Ingrid said, looking down at the two of you.
“Because my love, Maria is like a child she needs attention all the time and she thinks in order to get the attention she wants she has to poke and tickle.” You smiled up at your Norwegian lover, Mapi didn’t seem to like your comment as she grabbed onto your sides and dug into them with her fingers.
You immediately tried to get her off and you did which meant that Mapi was now on the ground. “I take it back.” Ingrid mutters under her breath as she once again watches the two of you get into a play fight. Which ends up with you over Mapi’s shoulder as she pokes you in the stomach over and over.
“STOP PLEASE STOP.” You yelled.
“Say I am the best most amazing person ever.” Mapi said, stopping her movements for a moment.
“No.” You squealed again as Mapi started to poke you again, not letting you move down from over her shoulder as you banged on her back. “Fine, you are the best most amazing person ever. Happy.” And with that you were placed back on your feet.
“Very.” Mapi looked down at you, as you moved to get out of her grip and return to your position on the sofa she pulled you in and connected your lips. Mapi moved to deepen the kiss, your legs feeling weak as she squeezed your hips, but before she would get carried away you pushed her away gently.
“I have to get dinner ready.” You said simply pecking her lips one more time before moving to the kitchen, Mapi happily making her way over to Ingrid to cuddle into her side.
You spent the rest of the night eating and watching a new movie that Ingrid had picked out, you were first to call quits and head to bed finishing your night routine before hopping into bed while your lovers finished the movie. An hour later the movie finished and Ingrid and Mapi headed up to bed, catching sight of you snuggled into the sheets made their hearts flutter.
Ingrid climbed into her side on the left after she was finished, closely followed by Mapi who took her side on the right on either side of you. Ingrid and Mapi’s hands intertwined over your waist as Ingrid snuggled into your neck and Mapi pulled your head gently to rest on her chest, the three of you now in a deep sleep tired from the fun but annoying day you had.
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hoseoksluna · 5 months
Text
VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc 
genre: smut
word count: 9.9k
summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.
pinterest board: vapor
warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(
note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3
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Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb. 
Still can’t. 
He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air. 
The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.
It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all. 
And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point. 
This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you. 
Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.
The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels. 
It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes. 
Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing? 
He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day. 
You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream. 
“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones. 
The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them. 
“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully. 
You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows. 
You. 
“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention. 
“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable. 
If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust. 
He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you. 
“Your nose first, then your dick.” 
It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him. 
And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled. 
It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power. 
He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind. 
And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden. 
Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over. 
“Spank me.” 
Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes. 
“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.” 
The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.
Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation. 
“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.” 
He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs. 
Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms. 
And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this. 
Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either. 
Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?” 
Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth. 
You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being. 
And along with your submission come out your words. 
In perfect fashion.
“No, I want to suck you off.” 
And along with those your orgasm, too. 
Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again. 
Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.
You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging. 
In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk. 
“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.” 
You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him. 
And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.
“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it. 
But he wants you to come like this, too.
“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.” 
You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue. 
A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name. 
And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you. 
“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.” 
You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary. 
Or at least he thought so. 
“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.” 
Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.  
“Is that so?” 
You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin. 
He might just give you a taste of it now. 
It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love. 
Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently. 
It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out. 
“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.” 
The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation. 
“Oh, fuck yes.” 
He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.
At your ever persisting service. Eternal. 
Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears. 
He hears your phone ring. 
His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right. 
“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.” 
Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you. 
It doesn’t lessen his fire, though. 
“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.” 
His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in. 
You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.” 
You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers. 
Your legs begin to shake. 
Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?” 
“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.” 
Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm. 
“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face. 
He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back. 
“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”
The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.
And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies. 
And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care. 
He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it. 
Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist. 
It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door. 
His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of. 
It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend. 
An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him. 
Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through. 
Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling. 
“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate. 
“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.
“Do you think the water is cold?” 
Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one. 
Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest. 
“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.” 
Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you. 
“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.” 
A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat. 
A hunger for a cigarette. 
He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because. 
“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.” 
You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony. 
And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you. 
He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it. 
And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem. 
Something in his pants. 
And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones. 
His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it. 
Perhaps, it truly does. 
“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?” 
You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.
A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.   
“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.” 
Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing. 
“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.” 
Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?” 
It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip. 
Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.” 
He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down. 
You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly. 
He’s about to find out. 
Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down. 
He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there. 
And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water. 
The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills. 
You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels. 
But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it. 
You asked for it. 
He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him. 
That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles. 
You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top. 
Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations. 
“That’s for me catching you.” 
Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard. 
“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another. 
You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck. 
“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.” 
You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world. 
He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it. 
“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”
It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave. 
“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.” 
He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death. 
When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly. 
“That’s what you get, my love.” 
You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore. 
Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight. 
“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.” 
It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about. 
But he is changing his ways. For you. 
You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting. 
“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away. 
Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this. 
“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.” 
You mewl. “Yes, please.” 
In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume. 
“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.” 
The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster. 
Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks. 
Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard. 
“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.” 
He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.” 
Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home. 
And it begins to rain. 
Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity. 
He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back. 
Not so bare anymore. 
You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him. 
Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure. 
“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.” 
He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.” 
He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later. 
Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached. 
He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself. 
You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso. 
Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it. 
“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.” 
You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.” 
He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless. 
“Then, touch yourself for me.” 
He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal. 
“You have to ride it well, then.” 
You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.” 
“I know you will.” 
Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…
Then, he leaves you to it. 
Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless. 
“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.” 
A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back? 
And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you. 
“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip. 
“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.” 
He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?” 
“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.” 
He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” 
The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds. 
That’s his very fucking undoing. 
Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones. 
And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow. 
He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you. 
“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss. 
He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again. 
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.” 
You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore. 
He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit. 
Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together. 
He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower. 
He tells you of the demon living in his chest. 
“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.” 
You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you. 
He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies. 
And the first shower he shared with you… Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body. 
And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become. 
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It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency. 
He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo. 
“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other. 
Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist. 
Quite literally. 
He’s banging his male therapist.
The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you. 
And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything. 
Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again. 
Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.
And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along. 
He and you. A singularity. 
The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart. 
No third party. 
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walpu · 7 months
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A thought, Aventurine thinking that he's the dom in the relationship and then reader pulls out uno reverse, kabedoning him against a wall with their leg
"Get dommed lmfao" - [Y/n]
LMAO okay this is funny
I'm sorry this post is a but shorter than my other ones, I've been super busy for the past few days and didn't have much time to write 😭
Aventurine trying (and failing) to be a dom
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characters - Aventurine
notes - gn!reader, sub!Aven, nsfw-y
I really can't picture Aven as a hard dom but I think that in some scenarios he would feel more comfortable if he considers himself to be the one in control.
Like if you two just started dating and maybe you didn't know each other for a long period of time before that.
Or if you had some sort of rivalry before you became a couple.
He'll try to show you that you're his, constantly reminding you this by... clinging to you and whining if he doesn't get enough of your attention.
And, well, by throwing some flirty and smug remarks here in there. In a way, it's another way to keep his mask on.
He would, however, be able to be a proper dom in the bed. Ordering you around, teasing your body, enjoying your ruined look, knowing that you're his his his. Even if sometimes he wants to be the one ruined by you.
He reeeeeally doesn't want to admit to himself how much he actually wants it.
However. However. The key prase here is "would be able to be a proper dom" 
Is it possible? Yeah. Would this ever happen? No lol. 
The moment he tries to pull something like this he finds himself pressed to a wall with you blocking his way with your leg.
"Don't tell me you thought you were in charge, pretty boy" you say with a chuckle and he goes weak in his knees.
Tries to say something cheeky in return but he was never good at hiding something from you. You can literally see him being a mess.
It would probably be easier fir him if you would use your hand to block his way. He'd tease you and call you bossy, pulling you for a kiss. But with your leg??? It catches him off guard so much that, to his own embarrassment, he can't even find a comeback.
And the way he looks???
Slightly flushed cheeks, irregular breath, him suddenly clinging to you without even realizing it. Absolutely beautiful.
It's still not easy for him to be in a vulnerable position like that but he just can't help, the temptation of feeling  yours yours yours is just too overwhelming.
Would act ten times more bratty after that just to push your buttons and make you put him on his place again.
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Mating seasons with the boys 😈
Mating Season (18+)
2003!Turtles x reader
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A/N: It wasn’t specified what version of the turtles, so the lucky wheel decided on the 03 boys💚 I have this idea that the 2003 boys are Yellow-bellied sliders (mainly from their appearance, green shells and yellowish plastrons with no markings). I don’t focus a lot on nesting, as male turtles don't partake in the creation of nests, so I had a hard time writing it and therefore decided to skip it.
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All characters are aged up.
Warnings: Talk of masturbation, sex and all that.
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Important For All:
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Yellow-bellied sliders usually go into mating during the months from March to July, and the mutant did not make the guys immune to that. The boys quickly found out that their season usually lasts for around a week, often around the month of April. Normally they would all go into their season around the same time, hiding out in their rooms, not wishing to be “interrupted”, nor embarrassed by what they were doing.
However, it has happened that the brothers have entered their seasons at different times, and at different lengths. It has occurred before that they have entered their seasons at different months from each other, with poor Donatello suffering throughout all of May that year, while Michelangelo was lucky with five days during March, all while Leonardo forced himself through two horrible weeks in April, and Raphael powered through a hard week in June.
Each year, they could never really be sure when their season would fall. They would just sort of feel it come up a few days before, and would scramble around to prepare themselves, making them anxious and nervous. For that reason it wasn’t hard for outsiders to understand what was going on. Splinter, being the observant father that he was, would notice and know exactly what was going on, letting them skip training until their season was over.
Leonardo:
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Leo had never been a big fan of his mating season. Before he got a partner, he found that it got in his way, clouding his mind and making it hard for him to focus. He often tried to push it away, acting like it wasn’t there, hoping that it would let him gain back control in some way. But he found that everytime he did so, it only came right back around, hitting him even harder than before, causing him to bite down on his blanket in order to stay silent while he mounted his pillow in the middle of the night, praying that no one would walk in on him.
With the exception of that one time where Donnie was stuck in his room for a whole month, Leo was typically the one with the longest seasons, most likely a by-product of him trying to push his animalistic desires away, not wanting to give into something  he did not decide for himself. But then he met you.
Leo’s first season after meeting you, was much shorter than his seasons usually were. That week, he just couldn’t keep his hands away from himself, for the first time not pushing his natural instincts away. By finally not holding back and letting his animalistic instincts kick in, he found that his mating season became much more pleasurable and easier to get through. Even if it meant ruining a good pillow…
When you and Leo finally got together, he finally learned how great his mating season actually could be. It took some time before he was comfortable sharing this time with you, but when he finally did, he wished he would have done it sooner. Finally he was able to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration in a way that felt satisfying, bringing pleasure to both him and you. And it was during these times with you, that he for the first time wished that his season would continue on for another week, just so he could keep this experience going with you.
Raphael:
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Raph had a love-hate relationship with his mating season. He loved how he could get a whole week, where he could pleasure himself and feel good. Raph did and still loves taking care of himself and his body - he eats pretty healthy and works out quite a lot, and he looooves making his own body feel good. However, he hates how it’s never enough for him. He could fuck his hand or fleshlight for hours, feeling the amazing high rush over him, only to feel the need to do it all over again. It was almost enough to drive him mad, causing his mood to get rather dark very quickly, causing his sessions to turn into angry sessions very easily.
But when Raph first started crushing on you, he absolutely HATED his mating season. He felt like a crazy cave man in his room, fucking whatever he could get a hold on with the thought of you in his mind. Raph did not like what this time did to him. He found himself tempted to steal things from you, just in order to have your scent around him. He felt sneaky, like he was tricking you. In the few days he could feel his season come up, he would ask you to spend time with him in is room, so he wouldn’t miss you as much during the week he wouldn’t see you, only to fuck himself sensless in the places you had been.
His lucky break and mental relaxation came when you started dating, and it didn’t take long before Raph asked if you wanted to join him for the week. Although you didn’t spend the season with him the first year you were together, the second year you definitely were, and finally, Raph came to a point where fully enjoyed his season. Letting go and letting his instinct flow, making him feel whole during this time with you. It was almost surprising, maybe even scary how intimate it was to do this. It was a depth none of you had felt before. It was a bonding experience, and Raph would forever be grateful that you agreed to do this with him, finally letting him have a season where he didn’t feel like a crazy, angry mad man, but someone that was truly in love.
Donatello:
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Donnie liked to think that he was too smart for his mating season. That his intellect took up a bigger part of his brain than any of his animalistic urges ever did. But in all honesty, Donnie knew that his mating season had nothing to do with that. He could fight it as much as he wanted, but in the end, he was still a mutant turtle that had to go through his mating season. But with his second longest mating seasons of all the brothers, it was evident that he did not fully embrace it. There was that one year that he decided to fully deny his mating season, ignoring it, thinking it would disappear after a week or so. But in the end, Donnie ended up with a whole month of constant boners, wet dreams, ruined bedsheets and almost painful orgasms at the end of the month. Never again would he try to ignore his natural urges, nor try to fool himself into thinking that he was “too good” for them.
When you entered the turtles’ lives, and Donnie first started gaining a crush on you, he almost felt ashamed for his season. The fact that he would hide out in his room and think of you while he touched himself made him feel awful. What kind of horrible friend was he, in order for him to think about you like that? Horrible enough in Donnie’s own mind, that he did nor gain much pleasure from his sessions alone, but a lingering feeling of shame and longing.
But the world decided to smile down upon Donnie, giving him the opportunity to start dating you. And boy, did he jump at that opportunity. It made him feel less self continuous when he touched himself to the thought of you. It took some time before Donnie let you spend his season with him in the lair, but that did not stop you from sending him pictures or even calling him, letting him know that it was okay, and that you did indeed want to spend that time with him. And then, finally, he let you come down to the lair for the kinkiest sex you had had in a long time.
Michelangelo:
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Mikey might actually be the only one of his brothers that sort of looked forward to his mating season. A week or two where he could do nothing but jerk off in the comfort of his bunk bed in his bedroom, no training and only getting up to eat? Oh, don’t mind if I do, as Mikey liked to say as he skipped off to his room, at the first signs of his season coming up. He liked to have fun with it, trying different things, and at times even sneak out of his room to help himself out in other places, just for the giggle. But sadly for Mikey, he was the one with the shortest seasons on average, rarely giving him enough time to enjoy himself before it was time to go back to training alone with his brothers. That’s at least how it was before he met you.
After Mikey met you and developed a crush on you, his mating season took a whole new turn. It was no longer just fun and enjoyable with a bunch of self pleasure, but almost painful. Like he hadn’t eaten in days, and no matter how hard he tried to feed himself, nothing worked. All he could think about was you, and how he wasn’t buried inside of you at that very moment. His seasons became longer during this period, and he did not like it one bit, wishing back to the days where his own hand was enough to satisfy him. He no longer ventured out of his room to have fun, but stayed in his bunk bed, wishing and dreaming that the pillow he was plowing into was you, moaning his name and begging him to keep going.
With you and Mikey then getting together later on, Mikey wasted no time asking you to spend his season with him, and help him out with his undesirable painful hunger. You happily agreed, and once again Mikey found his season to be fun and enjoyable. He once again started to have fun with it, trying all sorts of positions with you, going so far as to fuck you different places around the lair, making this time of year a very anticipated one for the two of you.
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prentissluvr · 2 months
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just an observation — sam winchester
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cw : gn!reader, fluff, a little cliche hehe, reader is shorter than sam, poor editing as always, 1.3K words. requested !
prompt : one being shorter and it being a source of great enjoyment for the other.
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sam really tries not to tease you about your height; he’s supposed to be a gentleman, and it’s not your fault that he’s so tall. but he just finds it so completely endearing that you’re shorter than him, and sometimes he just can’t help it.
you’re rambling about some movie that you watched last night, wandering the kitchen as you grab everything you need to make something to drink for the both of you. he leans against the counter, eyes trailing your sweet form.
“i don’t normally watch rom-coms, and it was sort of really bad, but it’s hard to resist anything with david tennant,” you say, coming to stand right next to him and open the cabinet by his head. instinctually, you put your hand on the corner to make sure it doesn’t hit him and reach up to grab your favorite mug. only someone (sam) has put it on the top shelf.
it’s not as if you can’t reach the cup. with a stretch and maybe some help from getting up on your tip-toes, you absolutely can. but sam is right there, willing and far more able. he doesn’t hesitate, turning a little and grabbing the cup with ease. you get a full, close-up view of his arm as it reaches right in front of your face and holds the cup out for you with a smile on his mouth that’s both sweet and teasing all at once. 
you narrow your eyes at him but let your own mouth curve into a little smile. it’s difficult to react properly to him when he’s being a teasing asshole and genuinely just trying to be helpful.
“thanks,” you grumble, taking the cup from him and grabbing his own mug from the lower shelf. he just hums an affirmation in response, seeming unnecessarily pleased with himself. you brush it off with a small laugh under your breath, then move to fill your cup with your choice beverage and sam’s with coffee from the half-empty pot. just to be close to him, you return to the spot at the counter next to him, preparing each drink the way they’re most well liked. sam lets you do it, only because he knows you like to do little things like this for him. 
that, and he loves watching you do anything at all. he loves to pour his undivided attention into you, sometimes so lovestruck that he doesn’t even care if you notice that he’s totally in love with you, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t be. fuck being friends, he thinks sometimes.
so he watches and notices as you take extra care and precision to prepare his drink than yours, and he watches your lips move as you continue talking about the movie. it sounds like a bad movie, but you smile when you describe it to him, so he couldn’t care less.
“despite it being a pretty bad movie, the leads made it fun to watch,” you admit without hesitation. “it was horribly cliche and unoriginal, but there were some really sweet moments with her mom, and i don’t know anything much about cinematography, but i thought it was just gorgeous.” you slide his cup over to him and begin to work on your own.
he takes it with a sweet, “thank you,” and you just nod as you keep on blabbing, carefree and casual as sam looks at you like he’s in love with you.
“the setting was so beautiful, and the way they did the colors was just so pretty. so of course, that made it feel all romantic and shit,” you say, turning around with your own mug in hand to lean against the counter the same as sam. you take a sip of your drink and hum a little in satisfaction, and if your eyes weren’t trailing along the cabinet across the room, you might catch the adoration in his eyes. he schools his features to look more neutral when you look at him with this sort of longing that catches him off guard. “it was filmed in scotland, and sam, i have to go to scotland someday. it’s unbelievably beautiful to me.”
he smiles at you all soft. “we can try,” he says, not even thinking as he says those words. he just wants to please you.
you laugh a little. “well, that’s wishful thinking,” you sigh playfully. though, it’s completely true that the chances of you getting a break, much less an international one, are quite slim. you like the idea anyway. and you love that he said “we.” he’d go with you, that means. he’d try because he wants to make just about anything you want into a reality. a minute in silence slips away, like the coffee in his cup. you make it so perfect, he can’t keep his lips from the rim of the mug.
and while he’s content watching you sip away at your own drink, he likes hearing your voice so much that he’d like to fill the air with words rather than rustling clothes.
“you look extra short today,” he comments, a smirk splayed across his face. a screw must be loose in his mouth, because things that he’s not meaning to say keep falling from his lips. but he keeps thinking about the way your mouth tilted down just a little when you saw that your mug was higher up then usual, or the halfway annoyed smile you gave when he pulled it down for you. so this is the part where he just can’t help but tease, only because he loves you and doesn’t know how to show it.
“well, you must have grown in your sleep then,” you tease back, rolling your eyes. “what a rude thing to say,” you joke, “and here i was, thinking you were a gentleman.”
he shrugs, the smile on his face stretching wider. “i was just stating an observation.”
you tilt your head to the side and look at him with the hint of a smirk in your grin. “you know, you try to hide it, but i think you like that i’m shorter than you, don’t you, sam? which is silly, because most everybody is.”
he’s taken aback by that. he never expected you to call him out on it, to notice just how much he really enjoys being taller than specifically you.
“just stating an observation,” you quip when it takes him more than a moment to reply.
“and you like that i’m taller than you, so i guess that makes us even,” he grins. he pays plenty enough attention to you to know that it’s true.
you bite the inside of your cheek, already knowing you don’t have a better response to that. you raise an eyebrow at him. “fine. we’re even then,” you acquiesce, both begrudging and holding back a smile at the same time.
he tilts his head and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. “not that even,” he teases, clearly alluding to the difference in height between the two of you.
you roll your eyes again and scoff out a little laugh. “very funny,” you deadpan, unimpressed by the joke. you can feel him shifting closer to you, like he can resist it. his arm brushes against yours as he takes another sip of coffee. god, he’s flirty today. sam keeps you on your toes, he keeps you guessing and wondering and you know that he’s too nice to be sending mixed signals on purpose, but you just can’t tell.
you feel like you’re sitting on the bank of a river, dressed in white with a handful of daisies by your side and picking petals reciting “he loves me… he loves me not,” over and over again. today it feels like “he loves me.”
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l8dyvenus · 1 year
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astrology observations. #5
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+ Moon in 4th tend to look for partners that remind them of their mothers. If placed in a man’s chart, I typically see this as them going for older women. 👩‍👦
regardless, If you want to bag a cancer placement man, nurture him or act like his mother. It will literally do the trick🙃trust me, I know, it’s literally how I bagged my boyfriend. but be careful, they most definitely have breeding kicks especially mixed w Virgo.
and if they are ethnic, learn more about the culture or ask about it. take trips to their homeland too! or just simply do your own research to impress them.
+ it’s true, Libra suns run from conflict or ignore it. and if mixed with Water placements in a chart, they tend to lie to try to keep the peace. sometimes it does backfire on them.
+ Leo moons, did your mom always try to humble you?
+ Cancers and Taurus’s go so well together 🥹
+ I noticed that people who’s planet(s) fall into my 8th house tend to give/buy me things everytime I see them. I literally don’t even have to ask. they give me more compliments and find me pretty than people who’s planets fall into my 1st. 🤣
As a 8th house Stellium, I loveeeee people who fall into my 8th house, never had an bad encounter we just always clicked🫶🏾.
+ read a post that said Mars in 4th H takes on which ever parent shows that aggressive impatience nature and whewww, they didn’t have to read me like that 🤭.
+ a Scorpio moon once told me, “if they are not obsessed with me, I just don’t think they like me fr” LMFAOOO
+ All Scorpio moons aren’t as bad as portrayed to be, it really just depends on their relationship with their mother. I see this placement as like having a Cancer/4th house moon. even though Scorpio is at fault in this position, it shows greatly that the mother has a MAJOR influence and role on how they act, respond, their mindset, and characteristics. and all Scorpio moons and their relationship with their mothers are not bad either. but they could be over smothering. either a light helicopter parent, or a over the extent helicopter parent. I noticed that it depends on how well the moon is aspected. when the moon is negatively aspected, the moon person typically takes on the toxic characteristics and personality of their mothers which makes them destructive and “bad” as the stereotype. when not negatively aspecting, they are much more self/socially aware and conscious. not saying that negative aspected moons can’t be more self evolved, but they tend to have the shorter end of the stick. they just have take that journey to get there.
I met a Scorpio moon where his moon was well aspected with trines and sextiles to harmonious planets. His mother wasn’t abusive, narcissistic or any of that sort. Scorpio moon people typically were born at a time where it was very inconvenient traumatic time for the parents, especially the mother. This showed up in his chart as his mother being over protective and overly affectionate. Not necessarily an over the extent “helicopter” parent, but he would tell me she calls him everyday, sends him bible scriptures, tried to put him in the best schools, best positions in life to be better or have better than she had. Although majority of the choices she made for him, is not what he wanted, he knows that it’s from the good intentions of her heart. Pluto = evolution, death/rebirth, betterment, etc, so her actions showed up as wanting to protect him in her own traumatic way but also wanting him to evolve into something better.
+ Justice from the movie Poetic Justice definitely had Venus in the 8th H 💌
side note - I feel like erykah badu does too. I saw a post saying that every man she dealt with when they met her weren’t self evolve, then after their relationship they were all into the occult and dressed bohemian lmfaooo. like literally, search up erykah badu and the guys she dated, how they look then and now.
+ Neptune in the 4th, is it just me or is it hard to get anything done in your house without feeling tired? I have a lot of energy outside of my home, but when I get to my moms place I feel lazy and especially depressive. It’s hard for me to do anything. I didn’t realize that until I recently left for college then came back for visits, and then permanently stayed. Lmk 👄?
+ a Uranus dom or heavily placed in a males chart most definitely likes to paint his own nails. I don’t know if he is or not, but search up Dennis Rodman. He gives me Uranus Dom Vibes.
+ on the topic of Uranus, Aquarius, Leo, & Virgo placements in 8th degree are very experimental, but they can be deep into things like the dark web, bdsm, smut, abusive sex, etc. like really dark sexual shit.
+ Capricorn placements and the dying urge to crack the hell out of every bone in their body just for fun >> 😼
+ Aquarius moons tend to run to their friends for every thing, especially when it comes to family matters. friends could be an outlet for venting. But I noticed they tend to have a weird relationship with them. One minute they can have a lot of close friends and the next, those same close friends aren’t very close anymore.
+ water placements (especially moons) pay attention to how you feel around ppl. that is your biggest gift.
Anyways, CIAO! 😽
MASTERLIST
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jenoslutie · 3 months
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Electric Hearts l k.mg (TEASER)
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Synopsis: In a drunken haze, Mingyu orders a sex robot but has no recollection of it even happening. Now he has a sex robot thats way too realistic constantly trying to seduce him. Will Mingyu give in?
Pairing: Mingyu x Sex Robot!Reader
Genre: Smut, Sex robot reader, porn with plot
Teaser warnings: Fem!reader, Suggestive (not really but mentions of sex) afab reader, Wonwoo is in this like alot but he is just there as Mingyu's roommate, Reader is literally a robot LOL but she's very realistic.
Teaser word count: 665
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“Mingyu!” Wonwoo called out “Your parcel is here!” dragging the abnormally big parcel into their living room and Mingyu trotted over into the living room where Wonwoo was with the box. 
“I didn’t order that” Mingyu yawned, still roaming somewhere in dreamland. Wonwoo shoots him a confused look, scanning the box for any sort of indication of who it was for until he saw a label reading the recipient as ‘Mingyu Kim’ 
“It’s yours dude, it says your name and everything” Mingyu took a look at the box and sure enough, the shipping label read his name. He remembers he was drinking a few days back but he’s almost positive he wouldn’t have ordered something this huge, under the influence or not. Accepting his fate, Mingyu dragged the box into his room and tried to look for any other indication of what it might be, the shipping label only had the sender address written in some language he definitely did not know how to read. Grabbing a pair of scissors from his and Wonwoo’s shared bathroom, he carefully cut the box open and that's when he saw it. His eyes widened in confusion. Placed carefully within the confines of the box sat a…naked human?
“Wonwoo!” Mingyu shrieked, hearing his roommate dart towards his room. 
“Look inside the box.” Wonwoo wordlessly trudged towards the box and that's when he saw it too. A human? That's naked? Inside a box that his roommate ordered? The two of them stood in silence, staring at the box until something clicks. 
“Hold on” Wonwoo broke the silence, extending his hand with hesitant fingers towards you inside the box. As his fingertips brushed against the smooth surface of your cheek, a shiver coursed down his spine. Instead of the expected warmth of human skin, his touch was met with a cold sensation. Wonwoo’s gaze flickered up to Mingyu who was looking at him with the same confusion in his eyes, his mind struggling to understand what’s happening.  
At Wonwoo’s touch, your eyes lit up, looking up at the two men staring down at you. “Hello”, you greeted, trying to adjust to the faces of the men in front of you. They looked down at you baffled and you realize they might not be aware of what you are. You stepped out of the box, making the men even more confused than they already were. 
“I suppose you haven't realized, I’m a robot.” You explain, moving your hair to the side to reveal the small charging port at the nape of your neck. Failing to get either of the men to talk, you take matters into your own hands.
“My name is Y/N, I’m a robot that was recently developed for sexual use” The taller one of the two gasps while the shorter one with glasses freezes. 
“A sex robot?” The taller man shrieks, much like the first time when he first opened the box. You take his hands in yours and place them on your chest, letting him feel you up. “I’m designed to please you” A part of Mingyu was freaked out by the advancement of technology that stood before him but another part of him couldn’t help but be turned on. 
“Without further ado, I’ll begin the usage tutorial!” 
Mingyu felt like he could almost pass out. What the hell did he get himself into? He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice you inch closer to him, taking his face in your soft hands and pressing your lips onto his. 
He jolted as your soft lips touched his, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enticed by you but the shock of the situation made it hard for him to even react to the kiss.
“Master, why aren’t you paying attention to me?”  Your voice was whiny, something neither Mingyu or Wonwoo knew was possible. The two men were at a loss of words as they watched your next steps. You sat down on Mingyu’s bed, spreading your legs to reveal your perfectly sculpted pussy. Needless to say, both men were baffled at how perfect and detailed it was. 
“Can you actually put stuff in there?” Wonwoo questioned, mostly to himself but you ended up responding,
“That’s what I was built for! Would you like to give it a try?"
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a/n: hiii <3 this is a snippet of my mingyu x sex robot fic, Electric Hearts! please let me know if you enjoyed and if its worth continuing HAHA i dont wanan write it all just for no one to be on the same wavelength as me </3 feedback is appreciated!! :D
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