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yunwangja · 8 months ago

Text

touch - tobio kageyama oneshot

kageyama feels jealous as he notices that the other karasuno members can be physically affectionate with you while he struggles to do the same, thanks to your hesitation whenever he tries to get close.

genre: slight drama? romantic angst? its kageyama being frustrated so ig yeah, also eventual fluff

tags: kageyama x fem!reader, high school friends to lovers

warnings/notes: swearing, honestly that's it lol. also THIS IS MY FIRST TIME SORRY IF ITS LACKING /,,,,: i tried my best for them to be in character too so if not mb >< also approx. 1.2k words

kageyama’s thoughts had been swirling lately, a tumult of confusion and frustration. and it was all because of you.

he found himself watching you more often than he cared to admit, noticing every smile exchanged, every casual touch with other members of the volleyball team that seemed effortless. midterms and practices passed in a blur, overshadowed by his own internal questioning.

why did he feel like you were avoiding him so subtly? why did simple interactions feel like navigating a minefield? happenings from days ago has been haunting him, your subtle movements away from him echoing in his mind.

he wanted to be closer to you, and understand why you seemed so distant whenever he tries to. only thing was: he’s bad at this. he’s bad at expressing his feelings and making a mess of himself, especially in front of you. how could he do this so naturally when you keep on backing away?

"y/n-chan! you’re here!" hinata exclaimed joyfully, bounding over to greet you. oh right, i’m in practice. kageyama thought and snapped back to reality, mainly because of hinata’s loud announcement of your arrival, and well, because, it’s you.

his head snapped towards the gym entrance, catching your smile as you exchanged greetings with hinata.

"how was midterms?" sugawara approached you and asked kindly, prompting a hesitant response from you, "uh, they were fine, i think. hehe." the third year patted your head comfortingly, "i'm sure you did great."

kageyama's chest tightened slightly at the gesture, his irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior as he focused on his serves.

"wow, tobio, you're as consistent as ever," daichi commented seeing his performance, with asahi nodding in agreement. you managed to wave to kageyama from beside yachi, and he nodded in acknowledgment before returning to his practice.

practice officially began with a three-on-three match: tanaka, sugawara, and asahi against hinata, kageyama, and tsukishima. you stood near tanaka's team and cheered enthusiastically as he spiked, "nice kill, tanaka-senpai!"

tanaka grinned proudly and threw an arm around your shoulders, basking in your praise. “it’s nothing, y/n!”

kageyama's frustration flared again. why can't i do that too? kageyama wondered silently.

he decides to lash it out on tsukishima, pushing him to block their spikes better - to which the tall teammate responded with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

it all started a few days ago - you were having lunch on the rooftop with hinata and kageyama. hinata was engrossed in his own thoughts, while kageyama had this plan to subtly get closer to you, unsure and hesitant about being too forward. he wasn't particularly skilled at these things.

as kageyama inched closer, you immediately noticed and instinctively pulled back a bit, nervously remarking, "oh, is the sun shining on your side?" even though the weather was perfect and there was no sunlight. kageyama glanced down and replied, "uh, no... yeah, thanks. you didn't have to move unless it's cramped for you."

"no, as long as you have enough space," you awkwardly chuckled, trying to ease the panic you felt and continued eating.

kageyama sighed inwardly, contemplating another approach. he just wanted to be more gentle and affectionate towards you, just like the others do. hell, maybe, more than they do.

while you were sipping your beverage, you happened to try blueberry-flavored milk for the first time. "this is an interesting flavor," you remarked.

"really? what brand is it?" kageyama asked, attempting to hold your hand with the milk carton while leaning closer to you, making his face close to yours.

once again, you panic and quickly hand him the carton instead, "i-i don't know. you can check it yourself." you stood up to gather your things, suggesting, "let's go now," with hinata obediently following. he urged kageyama to hurry up as he remained on the floor with the now-empty blueberry milk carton.

from that moment, thoughts began to swirl in kageyama's mind—why did you keep avoiding him? was he making you uncomfortable? did you not like being close to him? was he being too much?

walking back to your classrooms, kageyama was stopped in his thoughts when he noticed hinata subtly linking his arm with yours. "y/n-chan! look!" hinata excitedly pointed out a stall being set up outside the window for the upcoming school festival.

you squealed with excitement and both of you jumped up and down, holding hands. kageyama couldn't help but notice the contrast—why was it okay for hinata to touch you like this, but not him? was he doing something wrong? did you dislike him?

"aren't you excited, kageyama?" hinata's question pulled him back from his thoughts. he quickly masked his inner turmoil and casually walked past both of you, muttering, "i don't care", making hinata complain about his lack of school spirit, while you just giggled in response.

back in the present, you continued cheering for tanaka's team after your interaction with him, prompting hinata to playfully pout, "y/n-chan, cheer for us too!"

you laughed and nodded, encouraging everyone with a big smile. “do your best too, hinata! tsukishima, kageyama!” kageyama would normally be melting inside, but today his mind was all over the place, frustrated. this drove him to be set on winning.

i don’t need to be close to you. i don’t even need your cheers. he resolved silently (and pettily), i'll prove it. and he did.

as practice ended with his team's victory, everyone dispersed, leaving you and kageyama, since you were walking in the same direction. "thanks for your hard work," you greeted him cheerfully, but he merely nodded, avoiding eye contact.

trying to engage him in conversation, you remarked on his performance, but kageyama's responses remained curt. "you were really cool as always, but you seemed even more fired up today after seeing tanaka-senpai’s spike," you commented lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"you're so petty," you teased with a giggle, but kageyama stayed silent, lost in his thoughts.

as you walked and chatted animatedly about a recent volleyball match, a bicycle approached unnoticed.

just in time, kageyama noticed and instinctively pulled you closer, holding your hand to prevent you from getting hurt. flustered by his sudden action—and the fact that he was holding your hand—you looked at him in surprise.

"watch where you're going," kageyama said gruffly, his hands holding yours intensely. you awkwardly laughed off the situation, "i'm sorry. thanks though!"

glancing at your hands still together, you attempted to pull away. “you can let go now,” you try to smile.

there you go again, he thinks. he’s been experiencing this from you for days and it’s been pissing him off. he’s had enough.

kageyama held on to his grip on yours. "no," he said firmly and looked ahead. confused, "what? it’s fine, really, you don’t have to hold my hand,” you try to assure him and continued to let go of his hand.

his expression softened slightly as he slowly looked at you, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual tough exterior. "why, can't i hold your hand?" he questioned, his voice quieter but determined.

you were taken aback by his question. where is this coming from? you never really noticed anything unusual about his behavior—at least, not that you were aware of.

you try to stay calm for now. "what do you mean? of course you can, but there's no need to anymo—"

"that's a lie. you don't even let me touch you." he maintains eye contact with you. you can't quite grasp what he means yet, but despite the firmness in his voice, his eyes seem to be pleading, as if he's waiting for something.

"do i make you uncomfortable, y/n?" he asks while you're still processing the situation. you shake your head. "no, not at all."

"then why can't i hold your hand?" he continues. "you let the other members do it all the time, especially hinata. why do you treat me so differently?"

shit.

technically, you know why you were acting this way. you just never thought that this was something kageyama would even think or care about, so you just behaved this way naturally.

"i…" nothing else comes out. at this point, you and kageyama are having a staring contest. you want to go home—you’re nervous as hell—but he’s looking at you like he won’t leave until you answer him. "where is this coming from, kageyama?"

"hinata links arms with you, holds hands with you. sugawara-senpai pats your head all the time. tanaka-senpai has a habit of putting his arm around you whenever you compliment him—all of them get to touch you like that, and you don’t even care. but i just come and sit closer to you, and you back away already?"

honestly, you are amazed at how he remembers your interactions with the other members. to you, what they did was nothing to think about, but kageyama noticed every detail.

you knew kageyama—well, at least this trait of his; the fact that he is actually opening up about this means it has bothered him for quite some time. it dumbfounds you that these "small" things to you actually mattered to him—a lot, maybe even more than you realize.

you look down at the ground, breaking eye contact. "y/n—"

"you are right, kageyama, it is different."

"because i don't care if the others do it to me," you say, lifting your gaze back to him, a sense of vulnerability in your eyes this time. "but i care when you do."

you see the surprise on his face. "too much that it could kill me, honestly." he looks bewildered. "w-what? i don't understand."

"unlike the others, i…" your cheeks flush, and your eyes linger somewhere else again as you brace yourself for what you're about to say. "i want you to touch me."

this shocks kageyama, but leaves him wanting more answers.

"i want you to be close to me like that so badly, but it’s too much—it feels selfish. i mean, it’s not like you’re going to benefit much from that. it's all just for myself. i bet you don't want to do that, so i purposely avoided physical contact with you."

there was a few seconds of silence before he could even respond to that. "idiot," he whispers while keeping his head down, but loud enough for you to hear. you look at him, quite embarrassed that you just lowkey confessed to him, and now he's calling you an idiot. he takes a breath and closes his eyes. "why? i just answered you—"

"i want to!" he shouts, his voice rising sharply.

now, you both keep surprising each other.

"i'm not complaining here just because i think you treat me differently from them! hell, i couldn't care any less if it was anyone else. but it's you, y/n."

"i'm frustrated because i want to touch you like that too!"

he looks away, feeling shy. "i want to hold your hand and pat your head when i want to. i want to stand and sit close to you so i can feel you beside me. i want to be able to hug you when i score a point during a match," he pauses, "although i don't think you're allowed on the bench during a match—but that's not the point!"

he looks so cute, but this is also all new to you. you don't know how to feel about his confession. you don't know if this literally means he likes you (which you do too), but one thing is for sure.

you weren't being selfish after all.

"so, please, y/n…"

"let me. and don't avoid me," he says. "it hurts when you do, you know."

your eyes fill with concern. you take a few seconds before speaking again, "kageyama."

he looks at you shyly. "what?"

you respond by grabbing his hand, intertwining it with yours. "okay."

he looks down to see your hands together, and his face turns bright red. "you can hold my hand." he looks up to see your smiling face.

"i'm sorry for avoiding you like that. i thought you really didn't mind. and cared. thank you for telling me what you felt," you apologize.

he shakes his head. "no, you did nothing wrong. and i'm not actually mad, you know…"

"i was just frustrated. i'm sorry i kind of shouted just now."

you shake your head and start to walk again, letting your linked hands guide him as well. "no, no. i know. i'm even glad you let it all out. that's a big step, in my opinion, after knowing you these past months," you say.

he looks at you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. it's as if he didn't expect you to notice. you didn't show any trace of anger or hurt after how he acted just now—you even cared about what he felt. his expression softens, a mix of amazement and shy delight flickering across his face and looks away again. "well, that's what i'm trying to learn these days."

"that's good," you give him what he thinks is the sweetest smile.

you both continue walking hand-in-hand towards the street corner where you usually part ways—kageyama takes the bus while you head in the other direction to the train station. after your intense and revealing conversation, the rest of the walk is quiet.

"y/n," he breaks the silence, and you look at him, urging him to say what he wants.

"uh, you know," he looks shy again, scratching the back of his head.

"what is it?" you ask.

"i'm just saying this to put it out there, but…" he squirms, "you can call me by my first name if you want to."

you are taken aback first by what he says. after absorbing his words, you laugh, and he continues to blush.

"all right, tobio."

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #tobio kageyama #kageyama tobio #tobio x reader #kageyama x reader

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reshinless · 5 months ago

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Been seeing alot of spiderman Kinich content on the clock app and this gave me an idea

Reader gets gwen stacy'd and kinich fails to save them lol then he wakes up and then they bang

──── through the phone mask

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. before he goes, how about a peck, yeah through his mask!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. spiderman!kinich x gn!afab!reader (this will end up in smut, so !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!) angst + comfort (in a way?? death mention but no actual death happens! just a bad dream)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. oooo i could not stop thinking about this during class!!

"mwa!" you cheer- briefly backing away as you admire you boyfriend, kinich, that puts his mask on. you pray that this spiderman stuff didn't pressure him at all.

"mmm... one more?" as he turned around to face you again. you chuckled as you tilted your head, stepping closer to the window sill he crouched on. "one more? i think you've had enough for today." a teasing tone present in you sonorously.

he gave you a pleading look in hopes to earn accolade (in which this case is a kiss. or two. or three.) you could giggle, feeling the way he still tried to kiss you through the mask he wore, concealing his identity to all, except you of course.

"mmmwa!" you brush your lips against the fabric that kept all of this a secret. you were so pretty when you smiled. he likes that little dimple that appears on your cheek when you grinned- or maybe the mole on your neck right there. mmmaybe he should count them soon.

but when there's a moment where kinich saves everyone but you, he'd never forgive himself. when there's a moment where kinich can catch everyone when they're falling but you. when there are gonna be moments that only star him, and missing you. like how a seed would long for a soil bed, or how the moonlight doesn't shine without its sun.

he was terrified of losing someone as precious as you were. for as long as you both lived, he wanted to spend as much time with you. his love language was all about spending time with you, and doing things for you, he knew you could handle yourself, but he loves knowing you rely on him for a few things (even if they're simple). so losing you would be losing a huge part of himself.

in all the years you both got to spend together, you spent it along side your best wingwoman; mualani. growing up by both of your sides, he never felt alone, or unneeded. he felt everything was finally coming together.

so when he saw the scene before him- it was you. being stabbed in the stomach by a spike below the now-broken bridge. even in death you were so pretty. your head was laid down on his lap, barely opening your eyes, just enough to let a few tears trickle down the softness of your cheeks.

"i'm.. sorry i couldn't do enough for you." were the words you whispered, holding his cheek before finally passing on to the next world.

no he couldn't handle the scene at all. and only now is when he realizes- he should spend more time. he'll make sure you won't feel like that when he meets you again. he knows he'll recognize you. he'd know you from anywhere, anytime, any appearance, anywho.

kinich wakes up in tears, clear tear stains on the place he rest his face into. your pjs have small marks, drops of tears where they'd landed off his face. your eyes flutter open a few seconds later, realizing he's no longer in your arms.

"kin? wh.. what's wrong? why are you crying?" you immediately got up to wipe the small sobs off his cheeks. "..you're still here.. thank god, you're still here." he suddenly hugs you, fitting his head into your nape. his hold was tight, and affectionate. enough to know that he's happy that you're still present.

"yeah, i'd never leave. was.. was it a dream?" you asked, massaging his scalp to soothe his stress. he could only hum in response, he felt a little pathetic to admit that he was, but it was the first step to accepting it.

"do.. you ever feel like i'm mistreating you?" his head popped up from the spot it was previously. "what? no you're not. in fact, i feel like i'm not doing enough for you, baby." you chuckle, shifting your head to front him a little better.

"you've done more than you think for me." his hand held a soft grasp on your palm, you could feel a few scars on his hand. "really? i find it hard to believe." you let out a giggle, certainly a superhero who does things to make sure the city is a safe place for all, feels like you do more? that was in your point of view anyway.

"may.. i show you how much i can repay you then? i want to show you.. i want you to feel how thankful i am that you're here."

whatever it was in that dream of his definitely helped yours come true. "mmm, someone's ahhn- enjoying, ngh themselves.." he grunted out, hitting you from behind so good, you can't do anything but sit there and take it.

you could feel every little ridge on his dick, the sweat emitting from your body, combined with the drops spouting from the pores of his palms. damn you couldn't even hold your own moans back in courtesy for the people in the next dorm. "mmmffffuckkk.. s'good kin.." you whined, you shut your eyes in ectasy

he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your plush ass barely swallowing his shaft each time. every shlick only made you even wetter. you could feel his length twitching inside you, each time he hit your very core.

your folds felt so insanely good, wrapping around the base of his dick so well, even inside you it felt so warm. the way you were basically getting stretched out, it reached even further into you, in his observation seeing how your eyebrows knitted- he assumed you liked it like that, kissing your insides!

he slowed the pace of his sloppy thrusts briefly to reach over for the phone on the nightstand. "you mind if we take a photo, pretty? love the way you look right now, 'd hate to miss such a face."

he'd be too busy admiring your face to realize how long he'd been grinding against your precious spot. he knew exactly how to make you use the expressions he wanted.

kissing your neck hungrily, making sure you face the camera as it recorded, letting it see all of you.

watching how your body reacted to his so well, he couldn't help but coo into your ear about how good you were doing.

"such a pretty kitty, mmm? and they're all mine aren't they? he continued, on the edge of the bed- making sure you see yourself in the mirror in front of you.

"this is what i admire everyday. hnnn.. s'tight, fffuck.." he groaned into you, letting you sit on his dick, riding it while watching his reaction through the mirror.

you couldn't help but piston your hips repeatedly, you were already so wet, might as well put it to use!

he held your hand throughout everything, squeezing it every now and then to indirectly ask if you're doing okay. kissing down from your nape to your shoulder blades, you were perfect from the ground till your ears.

for what seemed like the umpteenth time, he cums inside you. warm seed shoots up into your body, creaming on his cock at the same time.

kinich who holds you by the waist, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. still trying to catch his breath- but still makes an effort to kiss your cheek.

still makes an effort to carry your trembling body to the bathroom. still makes an effort to clean you up. still makes an effort to eat you out slowly afterwards.

he who already misses you while you were still in the room. he couldn't help but cuddle with you for a bit before going out again. it was sunday already anyway, and he spent the moments where the sun rose elsewhere (eating you out/giving bj)

kinich who loved the idea of making out with you right after, still having to go out since you both spent the whole night.. intimately. half of his mask is still on but all you do is lift it up a little, enough for his lips to be visible enough for you to peck.

he makes sure you're sound asleep before he goes, he'll be back before you know it anyway.

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ponypuffle · 1 year ago

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Hey! Hello! I saw that you have open requests and I would love to ask you something, Rainbow Dash x fem! reader, a pretty unicorn who is Rarity's cousin and went to Ponyville to visit her.

And Rainbow Dash is amazed when she sees her for the first time, a pretty and adorable Canterlot unicorn who likes to see pegasi fly since she has a fascination with wings, and Rainbow takes that point in her favor ;)

Pairing: Rainbow Dash x Fem!Reader

Word Count: idk im on my phone rn so i'll check when i have access to my computer l8r Warning(s): rainbow checks the reader out (idk if that's a warning but to be sure lol) A/N: tbh i gave rainbow too much rizz to the point that she managed to rizz me up from an rd enjoyer to rd simp 😔😔

As a pony who's lived her entire life in Canterlot, you knew for certain it didn't happen as often as most tourists expected, but to each their own. You certainly weren't about to stop them if it meant Canterlot's local businesses profited from their visits.

You loved Canterlot as much as the next pony, but Celestia, was it a lot. Every pony always had something to do and somewhere to be whether it be for business purposes or to simply go to a luxurious outing. Not to mention the overabundance of tourists who clambered to see the next big thing or perhaps their favorite "attraction"; a glimpse at the princess walking out onto her balcony.

All of this to say that you needed a break from Canterlot, even if it was for a moment. Every pony loved to say that Canterlot "has it all", but they all seemed to fail to consider the city's lack of peace. Hence why you reached out to family for help who then reached out to more family until you finally ended up in communications with your cousin, Rarity.

You remembered her well from the playdates and family gatherings you went to as little fillies. Unfortunately with how life goes, you'd lost touch with her. The last time you'd seen her as more than a child was years ago! Truth be told, you were excited to reunite with her. A whole week in Ponyville with your favorite cousin sounded like the perfect remedy to your Canterlot-ailment.

When the day came, you were the first to board the train and the first to exit. The moment you laid your eyes on your cousin, you rushed over with a wide grin. "Rarity! I'm so happy to see you again! Celestia, your mane is to die for! You have to tell me how you get it looking so gorgeous."

"Why, thank you, dear. We'll have plenty of time to discuss mane products soon enough." She giggled before directing your attention towards a pegasus and a little dragon. "In the meantime, these are my friends, Fluttershy and Spike."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, dear. I'm so sorry for not introducing myself sooner!" You quickly greeted the two with all the sweetness you could muster as if it would make up for your obliviousness.

The kindness was only reciprocated, much to your relief. Before you could delve into further conversation, Rarity cut in. "I'm sure you must be starving after the train ride. Why don't we go drop off your bags and we can all go out together? My treat."

"That sounds amazing." You agreed, only just realizing that you were too distracted by the trip to think of eating a proper breakfast.

"Splendid! Spike, would you be a dear and help our guest with her bags?" Rarity nodded towards the dragon.

Before you could protest, Spike had eagerly obeyed her request as he took the two travel bags from your magic that held them up. "Thank you, Spike." You smiled softly.

As the four of you walked through town, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Fluttershy's wings. "Have you ever thought of wearing wing accessories? I saw some amazing jeweled accessories back in Canterlot that I think would look divine on you." You commented.

Rarity overheard you, chiming in with her own praises. "The ones by Nimbus Shop?"

"Yes! The delicacy of the piece would look so darling on you, Fluttershy." You hummed.

Fluttershy blushed under your compliments. "Thank you. I'd love to try it out, but I'm afraid my line of work would only dirty the jewels before I could show them off."

Rarity nodded in agreement. "It's a shame, but I respect her passion for caring for those adorable little critters."

"Oh, perhaps I could pull a few strings and get you both invitations to this garden party out in Canterlot next month. Would that be reason enough to let me buy you those gorgeous wing accessories?" You suggested.

Rarity gasped. "A garden party? Goodness, could you really do that, dear?"

Your cousin's smile was infectious as she tried to hold in her excitement. "Of course! It's no problem at all. Besides, I don't know what kind of pony I'd be if I didn't get to see such beautiful wings enhanced by glittering jewels."

"Oh, that's so kind of you." Fluttershy was beginning to buzz with the same excitement, even it was toned down.

You turned your head to look back at the little dragon behind you. "Would you like to come to the garden party, too? I'm sure they could squeeze in cute baby dragon like you."

Spike began to stutter as if he was shocked that you'd bother to ask. "Are you sure you can get enough tickets?"

"Between just us," You hushed your voice down, "Two of the hosts owe me a huge favor."

Before anypony could respond, a gust of wind swept past you with a pound against the dirt just as you neared the front door of the Carousel Boutique. A blue coated pony with a rainbow mane stood with pride, her wings spread out to frame her form perfectly. The powerful mare found eye-contact with you, but she was quickly directed towards Rarity when she scolded her for the sudden landing.

While they spoke, you crouched down to Spike's level and whispered to him, "I'll just get you that ticket, yeah?"

"Thanks!" He whispered back. "C'mon, I'll show you your room before Rainbow tries to bother us."

Spike led the way around the ponies while you followed suit. You stared at Rainbow in amusement, letting your gaze glide over those strong wings.

Unbeknownst to you, the rainbow pegasus had checked you out, her eyes glazing over your form. You were far out of ear shot when Rarity noticed the way her friend looked at you, gasping loudly. "Rainbow Dash, don't you dare!"

"What? I'm not doing anything!" She held her hooves up, feigning innocence.

When both you and Spike came back out, the rainbow pony was still there with a disgruntled Rarity and a wide-eyed Fluttershy. The pegasus stepped into your view of your cousin with a smirk. She held her hoof out for a hoofshake to which you took. "Rainbow Dash, Ponyville's resident top flier and Wonderbolt."

"Wonderbolt?" Your jaw dropped as you held your hoof to your mouth in shock.

Rainbow chuckled in pride as she flexed her wings. "Yeah, what can I say? I'm just that awesome, y'know?"

Rarity rolled her eyes, sighing in disbelief as she cut in. "Come on, dear. Rainbow Dash is coming along for lunch with us."

Rarity herded you to her side, making sure she was between you and Rainbow, but that didn't stop Rainbow from trying to chat with you. "So, Rarity tells me your her cousin and you're visiting?" She called over through Rarity.

"Oh, yeah. I live over in Canterlot, but Rarity was so kind to let me stay with her as a vacation." You explained, but the separation made it a struggle, just as Rarity intended. She took the opportunity to keep you distracted with conversation, trying to keep Rainbow away. It wasn't that she didn't trust Rainbow, but she worried that if the relationship were to end, the relationship between you and Rarity would be severed, too.

But, Rainbow Dash was determined. When you made it to the restaurant, she dashed towards the seat right by you before Rarity could even touch the chair. "Lucky me, I get to sit by the new girl in town."

"You're lucky? I get to sit next to a Wonderbolt!" Your ears perked up with excitement. "I don't even remember the last time I got to watch a Wonderbolt show."

"You like the Wonderbolts?" Her voice was laced with happiness to know that you found interest in her work.

You nodded eagerly. "Of course! You guys are so talented. I just adore seeing your flight routines."

"Well, maybe I could get you a private showing, sweetheart." Rainbow nearly purred in a low voice, causing your cheeks to heat up at the nickname.

"Or!" Rarity chimed in. "You could take us all to the next performance, no?"

Rainbow snapped her head towards Rarity, glaring at her for disrupting her game. "Yeah... Or, that."

"Wow, that'd be amazing!" You couldn't hide your grin at the prospect of watching the Wonderbolts again.

Rainbow stretched the wing nearest to you out, letting it rest on your back. Your eyes drifted to her muscular wing, skin buzzing in delight at the feeling of her slick feathers. "Think that's amazing? You're getting a VIP ticket and a backstage pass, if you're into that."

Your eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping. You never expected in your wildest dreams you'd be offered such an opportunity. Rainbow had to reach out her hoof to get your mouth to close with a little chuckle. "I'm taking that as a 'yes', then?"

"Most definitely!" Your heart thudded against your chest.

Rainbow glanced at Rarity in triumph for a moment before she met your eyes again. "It's a plan then."

The next showing was thankfully only a few days after you returned from Ponyville. By the end of the week, you'd become good friends with the rest of Rarity's pals. You wanted to offer them to stay over, but your little Canterlot apartment was hardly enough for you and seven friends. Thankfully, Twilight had reassured you that she'd be able to get hotel rooms for everypony.

You'd made plans to meet up at a cafe you frequented to grab a cup of coffee and a few pastries before you went to the Wonderbolts show.

"Wow, I can't believe I've never been here." Twilight said as she sipped her coffee in utter bliss.

"Oh, it was opened a few years back, not long after your coronation actually." You replied, taking a bite of your chocolate croissant.

Rarity pouted. "I guess we've all been too busy to take the time to explore the finer details of Canterlot."

"I'd be happy to show you guys around!" You offered, eyes brightening. "The tourist spots are great, but I know all of Canterlot's hidden gems."

Pinkie Pie lit up. "That'd be amazing! Imagine how many tasty treats I've never even tried!"

The group laughed out loud, agreeing to join in on the insider tour for tomorrow. When breakfast was done, you all made your way to the Wonderbolts Stadium.

The VIP box was luxurious, plush seats in a shaded area that allowed for the perfect view of the performance. Your coat prickled along your legs in excitement at what was to come, and it wasn't for naught.

The moment the Wonderbolts made their entrance, you were entranced. You watched each well practiced maneuver, barely staying in your seat as you leaned in for more.

The show neared its end, much to your dismay, but it didn't stop you from yelling out with a cheer.

Applejack chuckled in amusement. "You sure do love them Wonderbolts, don't 'cha?"

You looked back with a grin. "How could I not? It's just so..." You tried to find the word until it finally clicked. "Exhilarating!"

"Then, let's go say hi to them." Twilight began to lead the way. "I'm sure they'd love to meet one of their biggest fans."

You hopped towards Twilight, nearly mirroring the same energy as Pinkie. At some point, Pinkie took charge with each bounce, so you eagerly followed close behind in anticipation. While you waited outside the locker room, waiting for the Wonderbolts to ready up, Pinkie was happy to tell you all about Rainbow Dash like her famous Sonic Rainboom.

When the doors opened, you could barely keep yourself composed. Your eyes were set on whoever was closest which just so happened to be Spitfire, the poster pony of the Wonderbolts.

"Hey, kid." Spitfire looked at you through her sunglasses. "I'm guessing your Rainbow's new friend?"

You nodded with a big smile, introducing yourself to her. "You have no idea how excited I am to meet you all."

Spitfire chuckled at your enthusiasm. "We've been waiting to meet you, too. Rainbow's been talking up a storm about you."

"She has?" You blushed, briefly glancing towards the rainbow pegasus.

"Non-stop. She tells me you're real interested in the Wonderbolts."

Part of you was glad Spitfire changed the topic, much too nervous to figure out whatever feelings came of the statement. "Yeah, but it's mostly just flying that I'm so intrigued by. All of you are so talented! I can't imagine how much work goes into your performances."

"A unicorn into flying? That's a new one for me." Spitfire commented, stretching out her wing when she noticed you staring at it in wonderment. "But, yeah, we work almost everyday. Wings like this don't come from nothing."

"I imagine so." You stared at the sleek feathers that made up her large wings. It wasn't long before the rest of the Wonderbolts team came to meet you, curious to see who Rainbow Dash was so interested in.

The next day, you went along with the tour as planned. With your friends following behind, you made it from destination to destination, making sure to have fun at each spot. You didn't have much of a plan, simply deciding where to go on a whim, but Pinkie had begged you to go to a little part of Canterlot for the end of the day. When it comes to Pinkie, how could you say no?

To your dismay, Rainbow had to leave early half way through the day. She told you she had Wonderbolts practice which you respected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss her presence. Regardless, the outing went smoothly and you still enjoyed yourself.

When you made it to your final stop made by you, Pinkie Pie led the group to the special location. As you neared further and further into the outskirts of Canterlot, you began to wonder where she wanted to go so badly. Every time you'd ask, she'd say something about how it's a surprise.

By the third time you asked, you decided to just trust her. As you reached the top of a grassy hill not too far from Canterlot, the sun had begun to set, creating a warm glow in the sky.

"Here we are!" Pinkie exclaimed.

You blinked, looking around in confusion. There was nothing in sight except nature. "Pinkie, why are we—"

A gust of wind flew above you, making you look up in the sky. Were those the Wonderbolts? You stood, watching the little performance with the same interest as the day before. You were beginning to wonder if it was somepony's birthday and you were simply not told.

#rainbow dash x reader #mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #that headcanon that rainbow dresses like adam sandler influenced this tbh

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chokchokk · 1 year ago

Text

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

“How do I feel like, Sannie?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

“You feel like you're mine."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

masterlist link | join my taglist

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.

“Yes, good… v-very.”

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here

#cromernet #choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #chokkiwa #chokko

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nctstar · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii I dont know if you still take requests but really like your blogs and I want to ask can you please do a jaehyun x female reader where the reader id pregnant and jae is needy but she isn't confident about her pregnancy body so he tell her it's okay and all you can change it as much as you like but like just keep the main idea pls thank youuuuu

thank you! here you are :)

be my forever only.

“My love…I’ll be right here when you wake up. I promise.”

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.1k

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! descriptions of pregnancy and pregnancy body, reader is insecure about her appearance, kissing, pregnancy sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, clitoral stimulation, breast play, penetrative p in v sex, (pretty vanilla actually who would have thought for me lol), lots and lots of praise and use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, darling, love etc.), profanity, jaehyun is sort of a soft dom (but nothing too crazy)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: we all need a jaehyun like this i think

Nothing was going right today from the start.

Your hair was having a field day – dry as hay on the ends, greasy near your part line, making it near impossible for any style to look half-decent. Lips chapped and skin peeling, you swallowed a lump of acidotic nausea that threatened to spill past your lips for what felt like the dozenth time today. You must have gone to the bathroom to let trickles of urine leak out of you, never feeling quite relieved but at the same time, not being able to resist the urge each time. You felt swollen, like your body was bursting at the seams of your hot, tight skin.

And to make matters worse, today was the hottest day of the year.

“Jae,” you called out breathlessly, trying not to sound too exhausted as you lowered yourself down onto your bed with shaky arms. “Can you come here, please?”

The sound of your husband’s steps calmed you momentarily, a wave of contentedness that was swiftly replaced by anxiety as you watched his form materialise at the frame of your bedroom door.

There was nothing wrong with Jaehyun – in fact, he was perfect.

Too perfect.

“You alright?” His shirt hung open dangerously, revealing the tantalising lines of his toned stomach and the edges of his underwear, pants slipping off his slender hips. “Oh, wait, wait.” He rushed over to you, the smell of his cologne overtaking you, making your nausea spike tenfold. “Jae, that’s okay. That’s not why I called.” You willed the wave of nausea away before speaking again. “Is the AC on? It doesn’t seem like it is.”

“It is, love. It’s freezing,” His face was lined with worry, even as he tried to laugh it off. “You feeling sick again?”

You wanted to shake your head, say no, but your head moved on its own accord. As you tilted your head up and down, tears flooded your vision. “Sorry.” You tried to whisper, but it came out a whimper, and immediately you felt Jaehyun squeeze his arms around your body, soundless.

You felt the nausea rising again, and you shoved your arms against his, the cologne smell attacking you once again. “No, Jae, don’t. I’m gonna be sick again.” As soon as the words left you, you gagged, head flying down in response. You felt his weight lift off the bed and heard the sound of your bedside vomit bag crinkle even before he held it up towards your face. “It’s okay. Do you need to? Just go if you need to.” He rubbed your back rather harshly, but it felt so nice, like a thousand-year-old itch finally being tended to. You sobbed, one hand stubbornly wiping away every tear that dared rolled down your skin.

“Hey, hey. Are you hurt? Do you want me to call someone?” You furiously shook your head. “No? What do you need, baby? I can help you.”

Between gasps for air, you managed to get out. “I feel so nauseas, but nothing will come out. I feel heavy, like a lump of shit, or a water balloon. And I feel so ugly!” You cried harder, simultaneously because you felt ugly and because of how silly and superficial that sounded coming out of your mouth. Jaehyun’s rubs on your back transformed to gentler strokes, and he spoke softly. “Why would you feel ugly? You’re carrying our child, my love. You have never been more beautiful.”

You scoffed. “Really, Mr ‘Hottest Man in Korea?’” The headline you saw this morning still flashed before your eyes, making you feel ashamed that you were this perfect man’s wife. And then, even more ashamed at the fact that you could even think about yourself like that.

This had never been a problem for you. You were far from a model, or, at least, what the current beauty standards considered the pinnacle of feminine beauty and perfection. But it never really phased you, even as you stood next to your conventionally perfect husband, watching him stand next to other seemingly flawless human beings. You never cared about any of it. Yet, today, the dangerous concoction of your pregnancy hormones and the TikToks you saw this morning about wives saying their husbands found them less attractive after pregnancy, threatened to push you over the edge.

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, looking annoyed. “What are you talking about, _?” Seeing him annoyed snapped you out of your tearful mood, and you tried to stand, teter tottering under the weight of your belly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

“No, tell me.” Pulling you down gently, Jaehyun slid his hand down your arm and let it rest on top of yours as you sat back down. The burning in your legs from the effort started to ebb away, and you sighed. “I know it’s stupid.”

“No, of course not.”

“No, but it is. Like, I mean, why should I care how sexy you think I am? That’s not even why we got together…I mean, of course I care, but, like, I think I’m decent, like maybe a five-“

Your lips were met with his, cutting you off, the smell of his hair now clouding you. You breathed into the kiss, but your body felt stiff, refusing to relax. Jaehyun pulled away, grazing the edges of his lips on your cheek. “I can’t believe you think so lowly of yourself, _. You’re gorgeous. You always have been.” He began to travel his face down to your neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin, making the hairs on your body stand on end. “Jaehyun,” you tried to whisper, but it came out like a loud moan, and you immediately blushed. He chuckled, wrapping his long fingers around your waist. “Do you want this, my love? Are you still feeling alright? Let me take care of you, then.”

Your body felt hot, butterflies erupting in your stomach from a sudden sense of feeling cared for, of being loved so deeply. It wasn’t necessarily that he wasn’t sweet like this always, but something about the idea of letting go of your anxieties and having your husband take the lead like this made you feel floaty with desire. “O-okay.” As soon as the breath left your lungs, Jaehyun stood to make his way in front of you, bending down on one knee. You giggled. “I do, Jae.”

He smiled, his eyes turning into half circles. “Are you losing your memory too, baby? Or is it just your marbles? Thinking you’re not sexy, you’re not beautiful. What nonsense.” He huffed, and you cringed physically, not used to being so lovey-dovey like this. You can’t say you were hating it, though.

Placing his hands on your knees, you reflexibly separated them, making him chuckle. “So eager for me. No, I want you to shuffle back on the bed, darling.” Muttering an oh, you begin to shuffle yourself back using your arms, feeling Jae push on your knees to help. “That’s it. Good girl.” Your stomach turned at his words and his voice, knowing how much you loved his soft praises as much as his mean dominance.

Your knees fell apart naturally, the weight of your belly now pushing down onto the lower part of your spine, making you wince. You fought back a groan, but Jaehyun was already onto it, pillow in hand. “Let me pop this under your back, darling. Do you wanna lay like this? Is it comfortable?” Grunting, you both manoeuvred the pillow to fit snug under the curve of your lower back, throat dry with anticipation. “It’s okay, baby.” You let your head fall back, your shoulders and neck aching from looking at Jaehyun’s head from this angle. “That’s it. Lie back and relax, _.”

As soon as Jaehyun’s hot tongue nestled inside you, your legs recoiled naturally, stopping as your thighs hit the plush of your belly. “A-ah.” Jaehyun shushed you, the vibrations spreading through your core and deep inside you, making you moan. As he worked his tongue in circles, you tried to reach down you touch him, or yourself, fighting the urge to cum quickly, but also wanting to so bad. His long arms stretched out to pin your wandering hand into place. “Did I say to move, hmm?” He sped up, head bobbing up and down, the wetness of your juices now spreading to the inner skin of your thighs, making you cry out. “Fuck! Oh my god, Jae, don’t stop…” you babbled, falling apart at a rapid rate.

“I’m gonna cum!” Your head thrown back, you felt your legs shake, and Jaehyun pull away, making you audibly whine. “Shh, be patient, pretty girl. What do we say when we feel good, hmm?” Hair in his eyes, you watched him tower over you, one hand still between your legs. You were surprised at the way he was soft and gentle, but also keeping up with the domineering that always sent you into bliss. His fingers pushed lightly onto your clit, but it was enough to send electricity down your spine. “Mmm, Jae, so good, so good…” Your lips met his, tongue exploring the crevices of your mouth as you moaned. His other hand squeezed around your right boob, eliciting a shaky whimper from you. “Please, I’m…ngh, thank you, thank you…” He hummed in satisfaction, rubbing your clit faster as he kissed the space between your boobs, meeting your skin as you arched your upper back off the bed in pleasure. You cried as you came, squeezing your eyes shut hard until you could see stars. Jaehyun pressed a kiss to your forehead, your vision blurry as you opened your eyes. “Beautiful, my love. So perfect.” You began to cry again, letting him peck the thin skin of your face and neck, his hot breath caressing you with every kiss.

“M-more, please…” You tried to squeeze your legs together, for the smallest bit of relief, but the weight of your protruding belly stopped you. You whined in frustration. “Fuck, please, please, you’re so good…want your cock, please.”

“So polite, my pretty girl.” Jaehyun pressed a kiss on top of your belly, making you suddenly shyer than ever. “Who am I to deny my baby, hmm?” You nodded fervently, making him chuckle once again, sitting back on his heels to align his hard length against your leaking hole. As he pushed himself inside, the stretch felt overwhelming, all encompassing, and your toes curled, fingers clutching the sheets in vain. “O-oh, fuck, so sensitive…” Jaehyun halted his hips, high kneeling to watch your face closely. “Does it hurt, love?” You shook your head, but he still slowed down, one hand holding yours and letting his thumb stroke the skin lazily in an attempt to soothe you. “F-fuck, you’re sucking me in so well, honey. Wish you could see this perfect pussy right now.” You replied through a series of wanton moans, eyes rolling already at the feeling of being stuffed full, the pressure on your clit orgasmic. “I’m gonna cum again, oh, fuck.”

You and Jaehyun groaned in unison as you squirted all over his cock, egging him on to start thrusting deeper and faster. His cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls, your pussy screamed with sensitivity, but you felt too good to stop. “Nghhh, ah, please, please…” Tears streaming down your face, Jaehyun grabbed your hand and kissed the top messily, his hips still travelling at an unfaltering speed. “Perfect, so perfect. You wanna cum again, princess?” You babbled incoherently, but he kept going. “Say it. Say you’re beautiful, and you deserve to cum.”

“I, ah, hmm, wanna cum…” Your voice shook, and Jaehyun spread his legs wider, pulling both of your ankles up towards his shoulders. The new angle hit right on your g-spot, the sudden switch making you scream. “Oh, fuck!”

“Don’t cum yet. That wasn’t good enough.” Jaehyun thrusts were getting sloppier, messier, and you could tell he was close. Your face felt hot, the rush of blood in your ears almost deafening, all organised thoughts leaving you as you felt your body reach another climax. “Ah! Fuck, gonna cum! Deserve it, please…I’m b-beautiful, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your whole body jerked involuntarily, your vision momentarily going black as you came hard and fast. You heard Jaehyun’s voice first, then his lips on your ear, one hand stroking your face and another your thigh. “Shhh, good girl, baby. Let me fill you up so good, baby.” Only then could you feel that he had finished inside you, his hot load viscous and threatening to spill out with the tiniest movement. “You okay?”

You needed a minute to regain your composure, but you used whatever strength you had left to nod, mumbling. “Was so good. Wanna sleep, please.”

“Okay, honey. You relax, I’ll clean you up.”

You latched onto him, bringing him closer to you, the smell of his body making you want to cry in relief. “I…love you, love you, Jaehyun. Please, s-stay.” He kissed you, muttering I love you’s back as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“My love…I’ll be right here when you wake up. I promise.”

#kpop #nct #kpop fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #kpop imagine #nct imagine #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun smut #dom jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #reader x jaehyun #nct x reader #pregnancy smut #nct pregnancy

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lowkeyrobin · 11 months ago

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hiii can i ask for hcs of quackity and his s/o being it couple? like other ccs are constantly bringing them up and hyping them bcs they're giving couple goals, or just fans getting them to trend on social media all the time idkk sorry if weird

oooo okay!! ; and dw this wasn't weird at all! it's fine lol ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶

QUACKITY ; it couple

summary ; you and quackity, through your shared fanbases and friends, have become the online it couple of the month

warnings ; language

word count ; 379

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

the hype and popularity spiked again once the qsmp had a random popularity spike after korea was introduced into the smp

then quackity started trending on tik tok and then you did once you posted a new video with him on your channel

getting the jake webber / tara yummy / johnnie guilbert treatment 💀💀 tik toks couple of the month

"Hey, Alex, I think we're trending again!"

"We are, cause you're so beautiful, Y/n/n."

"Shut your goofy ass up"

anyways, your friends loveeee sending you both edits and fanart

especially ones that make you look so hot together and shit

the tik tok edits go crazy

a solid hour of tubbos tubbathon is just reacting to y/s/n edits

they also love hyping you two up

from fit checks to cute couple moments, they're always hyping you up 💯💯

"ayeeee go! go! shake that ass! QUACKITY SHAKE THAT ASS" ; from roier and foolish

niki, foolish and tommy are probably your biggest hype men, in comments or on stream LMAO

god forbid one of you mentions having a favorite song or shared song you like /pos

the edits AGAIN lmao

you dressed as aesthetics of music you listened to for a video but never addressed it on stream so again, the edits LMAO

so many of you to emo/punk music and so many of him to rap/hip-hop (take this with a grain of salt ok...)

anyways, insta posts and stories together>>>

Twitter white boy of the month? more like Twitter it couple of the month. fuck them

dude streamer awards 😨😨😨 /pos

yall looked so good. head to toe, you fucking KILLED. IT.

the fanfic writers have been inspired. the people who paused their fics are all back solely for a streamer awards chap bc yall were being a little wink wonk the whole time /ns

you were just being adorable in general

nevermind the vids u posted of karaoke in the car afterwards

so many edits of you and alex making like thirst traps LMFAOOOO

anything for the fans 🙏🙏🙏

then you publicize a playlist titled "hot stuff w Alex 💯💯" and the world BREAKS.

don't care don't care

mostly like hot girl motivation + banger songs from the 2000s

like rihanna, jay-z, plus some newer kinda stuff like victoria monet and 21 savage LMAO

anyways that's all I got idk I'm sick and have 0 braincells

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #mcyt x gn reader #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackity oneshot #quackityhq x reader #quackity #alex quackity

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honeysuckleharringtons · 7 months ago

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any chance you could do Counselors' Lounge for steve please? 🫶🏼💫

hi, love!! i am so so sorry this took so long to get out, work stuff happened and mental health stuff happened but i hope this was worth the wait! it's also not technically workplace but they are working at a summer camp, but if you wanted something else, feel free to leave another ask and i write a new one hehe 🫶🏻💛

"Take Me To The Lake" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: In which Steve's last summer at his childhood summer camp becomes his favorite summer ever.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,048 (she got a lil wordy oops)

Content Warning: reader and steve are implied to be around 18/19, sexual humor and fade to black smut bc steve is a hoe, light mentions of food, mostly fluff but a lil angsty at times, possibly bad descriptions of volleyball bc it's been a minute since i played, reader from ohio lol, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: yeah i did name it after a taylor lyric, what about it??

Originally Written: 07/07/2024 through 0718/2024

Beta Read By: @writer-in-theory 🫶🏻❤️

masterlist | summer celebration

“You're going down!” Steve shouted from his side of the sandy volleyball court, hands on his hips to further prove his point.

You simply shook your head. “You wish, pretty boy!” It looked a whole lot like he mouthed something to the effect of ‘Yeah, I do,’ but a children's summer camp wasn't exactly the place to unpack that.

Camp Clearwater was probably your favorite place on Earth, and it was the one place on Earth where you were guaranteed a month of wonderful bliss with your favorite person ever. To say it was your favorite month of all twelve in a year was probably a little biased, but when you were getting to see the one person on the planet you adored more than anyone else, it was hard not to pick favorites.

Steve Harrington had started out just like any other camper in your eyes: for one, your rival, considering you were never on the same team at camp due to gender differences; not to mention, he was someone you only saw that one time of year. But, thanks to raging hormones at the wonderful age of thirteen, a chance game of “spin the bottle” after dark had brought the two of you together and you'd been inseparable ever since. Sure, you were pretty much only guaranteed the month of July together, but after that fateful first kiss, you called each other every night and all but forced your parents to drive you to the other's city every now and again for a date or two.

“Alright, when the whistle blows, the Ladybugs will serve,” the announcer practically yelled through the bullhorn. Your bones rattled with the volume of her shout, but it only added to the excitement coursing through you.

The whistle blew, the ball went up, and Kimmy smacked it right into the back corner of the court. Was it cheating for you to pick your two best players for the championship set? Maybe, but with Kimmy's precise serves and Megan's ability to keep the ball in the air no matter how many times she had to dive or slide, it would feel wrong for anyone else to be on that court.

The girls met in the middle of the court for a high five, clearly proud of the serve. Cheering them on from the sidelines, you yelled, “Good job with the ace, girls!”

The ball went up again, this time a lighter serve that barely made it over the net, taking out the setter of Steve's team. Still, they managed to keep the ball up, even with the weaker of their players being the one to spike the ball back over to your side of the court. It went back and forth a few times, eventually ending when Kimmy's block went out of bounds.

Steve had definitely brought his A Game when training the two boys on his team, seeing as most of the round, both your team and his were neck and neck on points. Before you knew it, the score was twenty-three to twenty-three, and either team needed only two more points to win.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best decision to coach against your boyfriend. Sure, healthy competition was always a good thing in relationships, but it was Steve's last year as a counselor, and you'd hate for him to walk away sad. Although, from the crease forming between his brows, you could tell that he was more stressed than anything right now.

“Come on, guys, you got this!” he shouted from his side of the court, hands clapping loudly in excitement. You couldn't resist doing the same, turning to your own team and cheering them on.

The next point went to the Ladybugs when Megan surprised them with a tip that fell right over the net, giving the guys' team basically no time to bounce back. You were one point away, and the thought of winning the championship—even if it was only just at some summer camp—made your heart rattle inside your rib cage.

Then, the Beetles took the next point with a shocking service ace, keeping their team and the game alive.

Two more points and again, it was anyone's game. Your heart pounded and your hands shook at the exhilaration and thrill that this game was giving you.

The ball went back and forth, back and forth, until you'd forgotten you were a coach, not a spectator. You were just as entranced by the ball as the parents watching from the bleachers were, and you didn't even realize what had happened until all the girls on your team came flooding over to you, all squeals and cheers.

“We did it!” one girl, Britt, screamed as she jumped up and down. Another squealed, apparently incapable of forming words. Megan and Kimmy were all smiles as they did the handshake all the girls in your cabin had started doing toward the beginning of the month.

You couldn't help but be proud of your girls, not just Kimmy and Megan, but each of the girls on your team that had fought for this year's trophy. In a sense, it was your last trophy, since you'd now graduated high school and wouldn't be playing in college. Though, you definitely were coming back to Camp Clearwater every summer you could.

After your celebratory dinner in the dining hall and the most bittersweet of goodbyes as you sent all your new friends back home to their parents, you couldn't help but search for your ‘rival’ coach to see how he was handling things.

You found him back in his cabin, alone since all the campers had already been sent home. Walls that were usually filled with posters of baseball players and favorite movies were now bare, beds that normally housed pre-teens were now vacant, and the boy who usually wore a smile was now sporting a frown, one that displayed what looked like sadness and homesickness.

“Cheer up, pretty boy,” you said, catching his attention, his eyes darting up to meet your figure where you stood in the doorway. “You've always known I'm better than you at volleyball.”

He snickered, his frown slightly disappearing. “You wish.”

You stepped closer to him, shutting the cabin's front door lightly behind yourself. “What was that you mouthed at me today? Yeah, I do?”

Steve rolled his eyes, though his expression displayed joy at your words. “Thought you might not have caught that.”

Your hands met his hair, swiping through the brown strands delicately. “I'm a better lip reader than you thought, Harrington.”

“Yeah, that's not your only specialty with lips though, is it?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “Is that all you think about?”

“Sometimes,” he said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “But mostly I just think about how pretty you are and how lucky I am.”

A smile pulled at your own lips, your heart nearly melting at his sweet words. Still, despite his demeanor, you still felt the need to ask, “Are we okay after today? No hard feelings?”

His brows creased. “Why wouldn't we be okay?”

“I did beat you at your very last Beach Bug tournament,” you reminded him, your hands moving down to his own and interlocking your fingers.

“Don't remind me,” he said dramatically, throwing his head back. Then, he met your eyes again, his expression sickeningly sweet. “Seriously though, we're okay.”

You held out your pinky finger, a pout appearing on your face. “You prommy?”

He locked his pinky around yours. “Yes, I prommy,” he replied sarcastically before pulling your hand up to his mouth and kissing the knuckles.

Then he was pulling you onto the bed with him, both your legs and his braiding together as they dangled off the side of the mattress. Steve's hand met your waist as he pulled you into his side while his lips met your head for a soft kiss.

“Weird how this is the last weekend I'll spend in one of these cabins,” he mentioned as his eyes darted from you to the roof.

“Don't remind me,” you parroted his words from before, only this time they were true.

His hand slid down to meet your bare leg, skin sun-kissed from all the time you'd been spending in it lately. You noticed his eyes avoiding yours, and the homesickness that swirled in them. The two of you still had another forty-eight hours before you had to leave each other, and yet he was already longing to be back in your arms.

“I do have some somewhat good news, though.”

Your heart raced at the possibilities, though your brows wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Well, I was gonna tell you over the phone when I found out but I thought it would be better to tell you in person. Just in case I don't get the reaction I'm hoping for.”

This only made you more confused. “Why would I be upset over good news?”

By now, the two of you had made your way back to sitting, his legs still dangling from the bed while yours were now pulled underneath yourself. Steve’s eyes were more serious now, his breathing speeding up as he got closer to his confession. “Do you remember how I said I was moving for college?”

“Yeah, your dad was trying to get you into U of Chicago,” you waved your hand as you remembered his words. “Alma Mater crap, right?”

Steve chuckled at your question. “I may have not been entirely sincere about the whole thing.”

He just kept adding to your state of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Steve took your hands in his, watching as they intertwined once again. “He was trying to get me into UChi… but that's not where I'm going.”

“What are you…”

The next statement had your heart racing just as much as the volleyball match that afternoon. “I got into Bowling Green.”

Your mouth flew open as your arms wrapped around his neck, squeals flying out of your mouth left and right. “You're kidding!”

His head shook against your shoulder where it rested, and you swore you felt a tear slip against your tee shirt. “I know it's not Denison, but-”

“It's here. It's two hours away from me. Not six.” By now, tears were forming in your own eyes, your smile wider than the lake outside of that cabin. You pulled his face away from your shoulder, meeting his gaze again. “Why would I be upset over this?”

Those big brown eyes you loved fell down to the floor, his tears drying up in an instant. “It doesn't mean I can come back here.”

You wiped at a stray drop of water on his cheek, causing him to shiver at the touch. “Why not?”

“My dad made an agreement with me. If I promised him my summers at the firm, I could promise you my weekends during the school year.”

Butterflies shot off in your stomach like fireworks. He may not have been able to give you everything you wanted, but he could give you enough. And that was simply all you needed.

Hands made their way into dark brown, beautiful strands. Lips met skin, the pulse point of his neck to be precise. “Steven,” one kiss, “Otis,” another kiss, on his jaw, “Harrington,” one last kiss, underneath his ear.

“Hmm?” he asked. You could almost hear his eyebrow cocking upward.

Another long kiss, then a small nibble to his earlobe. “I love you.”

“You're insane.”

His tee shirt made a light thump against the floor. “Insane for you.”

Steve looked down at you through dark eyelashes, meeting you with a half smirk. “I take it you're excited about this whole thing?”

“Very,” you nodded, your grin outright showy at this point. “You remember earlier how you said I was going down?”

The man could hardly keep his composure as your hands met the button of his shorts. “You are truly insane.”

“Maybe…” You finally made your way off the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Do you wanna find out how insane I truly am?”

“I've died. I'm in Heaven right now. Or Hell, one of the two.”

“Me too, Stevie,” you said, leaving a kiss on his knee. “Me too.”

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @mochminnie

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rangerelizabeth · 7 months ago

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So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but... I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.

Lol this one's a bit of a mess, but these prompts are great because they make me write things outside of what I would usually do! Have a fun little post-war domestic Clegan for your Wednesday night :) Thanks for the ask anon! I hope you enjoy it.

Prompt: "So I don't think I'm dying, or anything, and it's probably not that serious, but... I'm kinda bleeding. A lot."

Word count: 892

After dismissing his undergraduate class for the day, Gale begins the ritual of packing his materials into his worn leather bag when his doctoral supervisor pokes his head into the classroom.

“Gale, there’s a phone call for you in the main office. Seems urgent.”

A jolt of anxiety shoots through Gale. No one ever calls him at the school. Hastily, he crams the remaining papers into his bag, for once not caring if they crease. He hurries to the office where the secretary nods towards the phone, prompting him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Buck,” John’s voice comes through the receiver, steady yet tinged with a slight urgency that spikes Gale’s panic. His hand grips the phone tighter, knuckles turning white.

“What’s wrong?” Gale cuts straight to the point.

“So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but... I’m kinda bleeding. A lot,” John says.

“What?” Gale’s voice rises in anxiety, drawing a concerned glance from the secretary. He winces, trying to soften his volume when he speaks again. “Bucky, what the hell happened?”

“Cut my hand by accident. Tried to stop the bleeding but it won’t quit. I think I might need stitches, and I would drive myself but you’ve got the truck,” John explains, sounding impossibly calm.

Gale’s racing heart steadies slightly, reassured that John isn’t actively dying, but the thought of him alone at home with a profusely bleeding hand still unsettles him.

“Jesus, okay. I’m leaving right now. Just… keep putting pressure on it and don’t bleed out before I get there,” Gale says, running an anxious hand through his hair.

“Don’t count on it,” John teases lightly.

“Not funny, Bucky,” Gale huffs. “See you soon.”

Replacing the receiver, Gale stumbles out a hurried explanation for his abrupt departure, then practically sprints from the building to the parking lot. He drives well above the speed limit, exhaling in relief when he finally pulls into their driveway and sees John sitting on the porch. He’s got a rag wrapped around his left hand that looks far too blood-soaked for Gale’s liking.

Once the truck stops, John stands and makes his way to the passenger seat, greeting Gale cheerfully despite the circumstances. Gale’s glad John’s so calm, a stark contrast to his own internal worry. Of course, they’ve both seen worse injuries during their time together, but Gale thought they had left such emergencies behind with the end of their service.

“You doing okay?” Gale asks, reaching over John to secure his seatbelt for him, considering his hands are a bit full at the moment. As soon as it’s done, he throws the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway to head for the hospital.

“I’m fine, Buck. It’s barely a scratch,” John reassures him with his usual bravado.

“Right. A scratch that had you calling me at work to come drive you to get stitches. No big deal,” Gale retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” John says quietly, sounding slightly chastened.

“Hey, no. I’m glad you called,” Gale hurries to reassure him. “Just scared me, is all. Never gotten an ‘urgent’ phone call to the main office before.”

At the hospital, John receives eight stitches across his palm. Gale stays by his side throughout, John gripping his arm tightly during the more painful moments. As he works, the doctor questions the nature of the accident, and John reveals that he accidently cut himself while handling a knife. Then, he wraps John’s hand and assures him he’ll be right as rain in a couple of weeks.

Driving them back home, Gale can’t help but ask, “So, what exactly happened? I thought you knew your way around a knife without almost chopping your hand off.”

John looks sheepish, fidgeting in his seat. “I uh, tried cooking us dinner.”

Gale arches an eyebrow. When they had moved in together, it quickly became evident that John’s culinary skills were severely lacking. After a series of less-than-successful attempts, they had mutually agreed that cooking would be Gale’s domain.

“Okay,” Gale says slowly, confused.

“Did you realize it’s been a year since we’ve been home? Since we moved in together?” John asks suddenly, his tone softer.

Gale’s heart warms, the pieces beginning to fall into place in his mind. John’s next words confirm his suspicions.

“I just wanted to do something special for you, especially since you had to work all day. I’m just sorry it ended with you driving me to the hospital,” John sighs, his voice tinged with regret.

Gale smiles warmly at him. “Well, you know what they say. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

John huffs out a laugh, leaning his head back against the headrest, shaking it in amusement at the entire situation. “I guess so.”

“Anyway,” Gale continues playfully, extending his arm over the console to rest a warm hand on John’s thigh. “I can think of plenty of other ways you can make it up to me once we get home.”

The implication catches John’s attention immediately, prompting him to sit up straight in his seat. He raises an eyebrow at Gale. “Oh, is that so?” he replies, his tone teasing in return.

Gale simply keeps his eyes on the road, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey, Buck?” John says suddenly, causing Gale to glance over at him curiously.

"Yeah, Bucky?"

“Drive faster.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #mota #mota fanfic #bucky x buck #fluff #domestic #post-war clegan #rangerelizabethwrites #my drabbles

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lace-coffin · 1 year ago

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Hello! 👋 I have a really weird kinda specific request for Asa. Could you pretty please write headcanons of Asa with a picky eater s/o? But like an emotional picky eater, idk if that makes sense. Personally I have a rlly hard time with motivation to eat, I'm also a picky eater so when someone else eats my food and I run out of my favorites I get really frustrated and emotional because it's hard for me to eat already and eating foods I don't like just make it 10x harder. Idk I'm a crybaby and cry over food lol. Sorry if this is weird or too specific 😅. Anyways I love your writing keep up the good work and have a fantastic day/night!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request! No need to apologise! I love specific requests! I’m also a pretty picky eater due to my autism so ur not alone! I’m so happy u like my writing ah T T have a fantastic night urself!!

Asa Emory x picky eater!Reader

Requests are open!

The restaurant was supposed to be a reward for your good behaviour lately, unfortunately it turned into a nightmare only moments after being seated. Flicking through the menu your heart rate starts to spike, making you feel a little sweaty and out of it. The restaurant is beautiful and lavish but unfortunately that means the menu is more ‘out there’ and doesn’t have any of your safe foods on it…

You don’t want to ruin the reward, it’s a nice restaurant and you’re here to enjoy it with your master. attempting to shovel the anxiety down you order something that you think could be edible to you. Your nervous energy dies down a little as convocation flows between the two of you, laughing along easily and lost in it you almost forget the problem at hand. Until it arrives.

Five minuets pass and you haven’t eaten more than one bite after pushing the meal around your plate with the fork, trying to stall. You try will yourself to take another bite but you can’t do it, your eyes are starting to water and you don’t know what to do, if only you could just buckle down and eat it. Unfortunately that’s not an option, your stomach starting to turn and your breath catching at the idea.

Asa notices you haven’t spoken in a while, he figured you’d just been enjoying the meal until he’d looked up, your face contorted in worry and tears threatening to fall.

“-re you ok? Pet?”

Blinking away your tears you pull yourself back into the moment, only catching the latter half of what your partner said but getting the gist. No use in hiding it now, there’s no way you’re going to finish this meal without crying, and you sure as fuck don’t want to be crying in the middle of the restaurant. You can’t think of anything more mortifying.

Eyes falling away from Asa and back to the plate you take a breath and begin to explain, voice small and apologetic.

“They didn’t have any foods I know I like so uh I ordered something new! I didn’t like it though..” you say, wincing a little.

“I’ve tried my best to eat it but I just..can’t. I promise I’ve tried my hardest and I really want this reward to be good and I love being here with you but it’s stressing me out so bad!” You sniffle again at the end, explaining the issue always makes you emotional again.

“Oh pet” Asa sighs with a fond expression.

“You should’ve said something, it’s really no worry at all, we could’ve gone somewhere else, I won’t take offence.”

You let out an exhale of relief, realistically you knew he wouldn’t be angry with you considering he already knew about your eating difficulties but it still didn’t stop you from panicking.

“Cricket” your owner addresses you again, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

“Would you like to leave and get some takeout? We can go to your favourite, it’s your reward after all.” He smiles softly at you.

Squeezing his hand affectionately you can’t help but grin back.

“I would love that, sir.”

I rlly wanted to do the rest of ur request too so have some extra headcanons on the house lmao

“Come on pet, just one more bite and I promise no more.” Asa coos as he scoops the spoon full of food, bringing it to your lips. The gesture is very sweet but unfortunately you want absolutely nothing less than to have the next bite, the idea nauseating.

-After finding out about the difficulties you have surrounding food he likely keeps multiple packages of your safe food stocked in the house

-always has a food you know you like in the freezer or fridge on standby when trying new foods incase it doesn’t go well

-he’ll never get angry at you if you suddenly go off your food, he’ll either offer to get you something else or make you pinky promise to eat later when you feel better

-has absolutely let you cry it out more than once at the drive through when you find out the thing you’ve been thinking about all day is out of stock

-if you’re finding it hard to eat and he absolutely can’t get you out of bed/move you to eat then he’ll bring the food too you, will happily feed you if you ask or look like you need it, he loves to feel dominant and needed

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher fandom #slasher #slasher horror #slashers x reader

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ourloveiselectrifying · 5 months ago

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OLIE MONTHLY UPDATE!!! :3

Hey everyone!! TYSM for 2K downloads!!! holy shit!!!!

To the anon who sent in an ask about Kevin in a Muzzle here ya go heheh!

Uncensored will be up on twitter soon!! :3 (Kactiikitty!)

ALSO! Sorry I disappeared! Things got incredibly hard and crazy this year, and made me not want to work on OLiE. It's depressing and I don't wanna put a whole diary entry up explaining why the hold up on OLiE. Things are still hard, but I've got a very lovely boyfriend (HI ILY <3) now, and the shit storm that has been 2024 so far has calmed a bit now! So, things are getting better and I'll try to get back on on a bit of a schedule now! Thank you all for sticking around for more silly little dingo game :3

OK! Here's what I've been up to while I was gone! (SPOILERS)

The customizer, is a mess, and not the most pleasant to look at, but it's basically done!! This gif doesn't show everything btw!! I was going to do that but I was taking too long lol

-1000/10 never doing this again! • Worked on my art, did more poses backgrounds and animations! •More sketches, more writing, more routes, and adding in the new variables from the new customizer! • Spike remembers like all your choices, making restarting the game faster with your MC!

• Designed new characters for one of the routes!

• Added a plain text/font accessibility option!

• Working on improving sprites! His tail and ears can now be animated :3 (Uncensored will be on twitter :3)

It's not much, but we're getting there!!!

#ourloveiselectrifyinggame #murder sim #murdersim #horrorsim #horror sim #visual novel #kevin ourloveiselectrifying #OLIE GAME UPDATE

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meowzfordayz · 2 years ago

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when your anxiety spikes — inosuke, genya, sanemi

Author’s Note: just a lil fluff to end my evening (#writer is TIRED lol). ☺️😴

when your anxiety spikes — inosuke, genya, sanemi

Hashibira Inosuke x Reader, Shinazugawa Genya x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: anxiety/panic disorder, death content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: This is going to be such a strange emergency request so feel free to ignore 😭 all day I’ve been smelling blood like an iron smell and it’s making me so unsettled😭 idk if it’s a nosebleed that won’t come out or if I’m Tanjiro now but I’m so unnerved by this

If you could write a little preference of sanemi Inosuke and genya calming down an anxious reader I’d appreciate it because I’m convinced I’m dying 😭

~faqs~

“Why’re you all jittery?” Inosuke mutters, placing a firm palm on your knee, “I’m hungry too y’know.”

Swallowing a wry chuckle, you rest your hand on top of his, reveling in his steadiness, “I’m not jittery because I’m hungry.”

“Then why’re you all wiggly?” he asks again, scowling with confusion, “You’re not usually this wiggly!”

“Only you would call feeling anxious wiggly,” you snort, amusement softening your gaze as his eyes widen in realization.

“Well why didn’t you say so?!”

Promptly shoving aside the imminent prospect of dinner, Inosuke’s full attention radiates intense and warm on your clammy, tired skin.

“Surprisingly, when I’m feeling anxious, I don’t feel like announcing that I’m feeling anxious,” you mutter quietly.

“But you still manage to be as sarcastic as ever,” he huffs, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been smelling blood all day.”

“Blood?!” he nearly growls, “Are you injured?! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“Inosuke,” an alarmed giggle forces itself through your nose, exasperated appreciation for his concern tamping down your still stirring anxiety, “You’re not helping.”

“Oh,” he immediately switches gears, suddenly so serious that your giggling continues, “I’m sure you’re fine. Stop overreacting.”

Silence fills the dining room as you slowly raise an eyebrow, goosebumps raising on his arms… 1… 2… 3…

“I’M SORRY, I DON’T KNOW HOW TO HELP.”

You burst out laughing at the gruff anguish in his voice, quickly pecking his cheek to soothe his own panic, “That’s quite alright, Inosuke. It’s the thought that counts. Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I’m going to care! I love you!” he declares loudly, clearly disgruntled toward himself.

“I know, I know,” you shake your head fondly, nodding toward the entrance as the door slides open, and the aroma of dinner seeps into the space, “And I love you. You’re probably right, I’m probably fine,” winking boldly, “And I know you’ll be here for me if I’m not.”

Aaand now Inosuke’s torn between scarfing down dinner or carrying you to his room for a cuddlefest.

SHINAZUGAWA GENYA

Genya’s composure cracks when your anxiety spikes — in a very soft, delicate, really-unlike-him manner. As soon as your breathing becomes uneven: his eyes narrow, he immediately mutters Bye to whoever he’s talking to (literally mid sentence too), and stalks over to your side. To anyone else, he likely appears pissed off, but the gentle way he covers your hand with his, guiding you away from the crowd (while glaring at anyone who seems even slightly curious about whatever’s occurring) — he’s the opposite of pissed off.

He’s quiet as he asks, “What can I do for you?”

He’s warm as he brushes your hip with his thumb, reassuring you of his physical presence, “Do I need to get someone?” Teach someone a lesson?

And devoted as he nods once, “We can go home. I was bored before we arrived anyway, everyone else sucks.”

And even though you’ll admonish him Genya, they’re our friends! They do not all suck, he’s more than content to play up his own disdain for social events and overwhelming spaces if it means getting to see your frazzled stare melt back to its usual sharpness — a tiny sliver pulsing with adoration whenever you decide to look at him.

“I smell blood all the damn time,” Sanemi grunts, “So what?”

“It’s not about the blood,” you sigh, arms crossed.

“Then what’s it about?” he sighs louder, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s about how the blood makes me feel.”

You feel a little silly attempting to explain your anxiety to him, but you know he means well… and you also know he really won’t understand unless you’re patient with him.

“I just feel anxious smelling it. Like, is there something wrong with me-”

“-no,” he can’t help interrupting, his affection for you slipping through.

You smile despite yourself, nudging his shoulder with a satisfied sound—he’s absolutely not blushing thank you very much he totally is—before continuing, “Am I imagining it? Is it something simple that will go away? Am I dy-”

“You’re not dying,” he interrupts again, this time with an eye roll, “I’d know if you were.”

The sincerity, the darkness, of his tone freezes you, somehow reassuring even as it seizes you.

“Not to be weird,” he grimaces, backtracking quickly as dread threatens to cloud your gaze, “I just- … you mean a lot to me, so I’d know if you weren’t okay. Physically. I’d tell you to report to Shinobu.”

“Tell me?” you ask lightly.

“Carry you there myself,” he smirks, confidence overcoming the heat in his face, “Because you mean a lot to me.”

“Ah.”

“Does that help?” he murmurs softly.

You gulp, calloused fingers squeezing your wrists as he guides you closer.

“Knowing that you mean a lot to me? Knowing that I’m looking out for you?”

You nod, smiling now as you meet his earnest stare, thrilled by his unexpected gift of vulnerability and sincerity — by his revelation of tender intent.

“You help,” you whisper, shyly kissing his chin.

“Good,” he whispers, kissing your forehead in return, “I’m trying my best.”

#preferences #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #hashibira inosuke #inosuke x reader #shinazugawa genya #genya x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader

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2demondogs · 26 days ago

Note

Would you ever consider writing Dutch as a trans man in a Vandermatthews fic? I love your work and trans Dutch is very close to my heart :)

Thank you <3 And absolutely!! I assume this was ur request but if you have a specific one and were just checking w/ this ask (I'm painfully autistic I'm so sorry lol), I will write more when my requests open again :D Shouldn't be too long, I only have 2 more requests to finish.

Sorry this is kinda moody I was feeling some type'a way myself... *insert cigarette emoji*

Words: 1.6k Tags: FTM Dutch, young VanDerMatthews, hurt/comfort, gender dysphoria I'mma be fr my man is in the trenches, talk of binding, face-shaving,

He still changes before Hosea wakes, or after he's left the tent. Convincing him to sleep without the binding wrapped around his chest, now and then, was a Herculean task — until Hosea said he likes laying on him, and Dutch couldn't argue with how it made him despise himself a little less — so this one must be Sisyphean. Love can nudge odd things in new directions.

Not that he's ever asked him to go without it. Hosea isn't a fool, as much as he is self-indulgent. The only inkling of the question he gets is calloused fingertips on his bare back below the beige bandages this morning, tracing the indent of his spine. He's turned away, legs crossed as he dresses.

"Can't be good for your ribs, wrappin' so tight." His voice is nasally, thick with sleep. He must've woken him up shuffling around for his shirt, rolled up with the rest of today's clothes in a pair of jeans.

Dutch turns to glance over his shoulder. He looks good, the sharp shadows of morning along his face softened by the canvas tent overhead. The golden cast of it as the sun breaks through the darkness does him well, makes his wheat hair look as blond as those maidens in paintings. Angelic, disregarding that there's dried drool on his chin from snoring his heart out all night long— same as always. He's started falling asleep too quickly to kick him and make him turn on his side.

"Can't be," he agrees, turns to tie a knot over his chest, tucking it into the cradle of his sternum.

Hosea makes a soft noise, shifts closer. His arm slings around his middle, warm where it was trapped under his body as they slept. Curled up, anymore, like two stray cats. The weather is turning cold off the tail-end of summer, and the heat off Hosea is a welcome one as the air starts to nip at his skin. Then, his hair tickles his hips above where his half-undone union suit is pooled, nose pressing in after. Stubble scratches him.

He doesn't like to linger like this, feels naked in a way that he cannot describe. Still, he reaches behind him to lay a hand on Hosea's head, fingers scrunching in the straight strands. It earns another warm noise, and he settles his forehead to Dutch's hip.

"Gon' freeze me out," he says, twisting to look at him. It's hard to turn back like this, and he catches only a few glances of him looking as pleased as he's ever been.

"I ain't stoppin' you from nothin'." He draws away, anyways. Sleep has his lids set low once he's sat up, meeting Dutch's eyes. "Can't I love on you?"

Dutch turns before he lets himself smile. "Absolutely not," he replies.

There are many times where Dutch feels confliction deep enough it makes him want to withdraw. Physically, emotionally. He almost cannot handle this, either, wants badly to curl in on himself the same way that he had the first time Hosea touched his hand, recoiling as if embracing him would be the same as willingly stepping into an Iron Maiden.

But his fingers are not spiked where they hold his jaw. Tender as they can be, for working hands. The straight razor glides easily over his cheeks, because he doesn't have anything beyond peach fuzz to slice off. Hair grows from that beauty mark of his, but slow. Even his upper lip, untouched since he left his mother's house six years ago, has little to show for it. Hosea tells him his hair is dark and that his mustache shows in the light, but it doesn't make him feel much better.

Some days, it does, when he can appreciate the thick, dark hair growing on his arms and legs and belly and it all soothes some of the aching. Others, he thinks he ought to find a way to stuff his pores with the hair off his head for all the luck he's having with waiting. Without a word, Hosea doesn't touch his upper lip.

It's an odd feeling, cool shaving cream on his face, and a relief when it comes off with each swipe, blade cleaned on a cloth sat on the man's knee. They're open-legged over a log, facing one another, and he's talking, knees brushing his for something to do with the excess energy of focusing. Dutch is too stuck inside of his own mind to listen to what he's saying about the angle of the razor or how to keep one tidy.

Even the sound of the river they've camped out by is dulled by the case settled over his head. It was loud at first when he closed his eyes, tree branches rustling as dead leaves floated downstream. The air still feels as cold. Hosea apologized for a nick on his jaw when he shivered and caught him off guard. That had felt good, at least.

His hands tremble, anyways, doing fine work like this. Always says he's got the shakes thanks to his shit-heeled father, that ominous way folk refer to mystery ill-traits no one really understands but that seem to flow down the bloodline from one to the next. Dutch said it was better than his daddy being dead, and then he told him he was. He felt a little bad until he laughed about it. That was all a long time ago, Hosea had said, and Dutch thinks the same about that moment between them despite how often he recalls it when he sees his fingers shudder.

The clean side of the cloth, folded with the wiped-marks tucked inside, is a relief when Hosea hands it to him and he holds it over his jaw before wiping it off. It's irritated, complains about being abraised by the cloth again. Just a scrap from an old shirt that was torn while they were out hunting; Dutch recognizes the tartan print. The skin feels scraped raw in places where the man was heavy-handed.

He can't be angry. He's only ever been jealous of the razor nicks along Hosea's face and throat, and now he's got his own.

The conflict finds him again. When he looks at him, Hosea has that sturdy expression he takes on whenever he can tell Dutch is— upset?

He isn't sure if he's upset.

"Steam's comin' out your ears, man," he says, and Dutch knows what's coming before it does. "What're you thinkin'?"

He folds the scrap fabric, takes to fingering at the strange smoothness on his face and the stinging cut that he traces a fingernail over. The difference is minute, but noticeable with all the time he spends anxiously rubbing his jaw.

It's difficult to say while looking at Hosea, but it's just as hard with Hosea looking at him and that much isn't going to change, so he braves the eye contact as he gives shape to the feeling he can't ignore.

"Why're we playin' pretend?" His voice comes out thicker sounding than he meant it, cracking over it wrong and seeming too emotional. He clears his throat. "I ain't—"

"Dunno what you mean, Dutch," Hosea stops him. He takes the cloth to polish his straight razor off before flicking it shut. Glances up at him, and then back to where he's rubbing a fingerprint off the metallic case of the blade. "Man oughtta know how to shave his face."

How to respond escapes him. He fights the urge to be alone. There is no point in it around him. It comes onto him hard on days like these, and he reaches out for Hosea's knee to tether himself to something, to make a reason that he cannot scurry away from the man when he's only being kind.

Only is not it, but Dutch doesn't want to contemplate that on top of what's already running through his mind. Things like if he likes that Hosea says he is a man so easily, and why it stings at times that things seem so simple to him; if he wants Hosea to wish he were different, or if he feels good that Hosea likes him how he is.

Nothing's ever felt simple to Dutch. He isn't sure if it's loathing or jealousy or hurt that makes him chafe against the unquestioning sweetness Hosea has on him. He finds it so easy, it's almost grotesque.

Hosea says that Dutch hates himself, which isn't true. He finds himself quite a good character and usually very right about things, which is what matters most. His face doesn't hurt his self-image either, even if it's a little soft in the cheeks, some men don't grow out of it until their thirties— no, it isn't hatred at all. It's discomfort, some feeling of wrong that doesn't go away until he forgets himself or until, apparently, Hosea says his chest is comfortable to lay on.

Hosea tucks his razor into his jeans pocket to free his hand, placing it over his. He rolls one of his rings around, and the pinch of the webbing of his finger makes him grunt, coming back to his body from wherever he'd gone.

The man is leaning in, some, angling to look up at him with a faux doe-like look in his eyes. They're so soft it makes Dutch sick; he exhales and turns the unwitting smile down to their hands even before he starts sweet-talking.

"Look real handsome," Hosea says, voice soft.

Goddamn him. He's perfected that conman's swagger, and he rarely turns it on Dutch— they both know it's as fake as can be, because they both know how to draw their brows just right, how to look weak and smitten.

"Old fool," Dutch replies. Sometimes things are simple enough, and it soothes the ache to hear the word.

#rdr2 fanfic #vandermatthews #young vandermatthews #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sfw #oneshot #hurtcomfort #Dude I wish I was blessed w being over six foot like Dutch... insert another cigarette emoji #ask

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secretwhumplair · 19 days ago

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The bed situation

994 words | The black prince [WT] (kinda in parallel to Visitors, sorry this series is such a mess lol)

Content | Anxiety, past non-con

Notes | Elgar and Orafin comforting each other... or are they?

Taglist | @echo-goes-aaa @whump-blog @scoundrelwithboba @whumpcreations @neverthelass

@whumplr-reader @vampiresprite @pleasestaywithmedarling

When they reached House Borrim, Elgar was assigned his own bedroom.

It was a strange feeling, standing in there that first night, the door closed behind him, the luxurious bed empty, only waiting for him. He couldn’t quite believe it — that this was his, that he would be undisturbed, left alone.

He had never had a room to himself. He had been locked up alone before, but those occasions just left him waiting for his master to burst in at any moment. And before that, when he was free — if he had a real room to sleep in, he had always had to share it, never able to afford one to himself.

Now he was alone in this big room with the beautiful curtains before the large windows, the painted wardrobe and the desk he had no use for, unable as he was to write, and the bed.

There was a key in the lock. He hadn’t dared turn it.

He couldn’t quite believe it.

The next morning, he appeared at breakfast like he had been told to, and found a prince that looked more tired than he had for the past weeks. As if he had barely slept.

Neither had Elgar. His mind kept playing tricks at him that someone was coming through the door into the room where he lay alone and unprotected, that someone would-

Maybe even the prince.

But of course that was ridiculous.

The prince attempted a smile when he saw Elgar, but it was clear he struggled as much as Elgar struggled to return it.

The prince’s brother — Otira — had welcomed them at the estate and made sure they were settling in, and the prince — Elgar’s prince — wrote a note for him to read to Elgar.

He permitted Elgar to visit him in his bedroom, if he wanted.

When Elgar lay awake again that night, it started feeling like being alone might be worse.

Of course, there was nothing bad about being with the prince at all. He had never tried to hurt Elgar. But with all the power he had now gotten back-

Elgar’s heart was in his throat as he knocked on the prince’s door. A soft squeak answered him, and Elgar felt a brief but intense wave of embarrassment wash over him that he could have forgotten the prince couldn’t answer with a word.

He entered. The prince sat up in his bed, and smiled when he saw him; immediately, he moved over and gestured at the spot beside himself.

»Thank you,« Elgar muttered and slipped under the prince’s covers.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, but eventually, he slept a little better that night.

As the nights crept by, he should have gotten used to it. Should have blindly believed that things would continue the way they were, with the prince next to him chastely holding his hand, or at most lying against his body, perhaps with one’s arm wrapped around the other.

It was comforting, too. It was better than sleeping alone had been. No one could reach him there, in the prince’s bed.

No one, but the prince himself.

He might change his mind at a moment’s notice.

There was no reason Elgar should assume he would, but the thought wouldn’t leave his head. The prince was getting better, more confident and more comfortable in the position that had been his since birth, by the day. Sometimes a simple look or word made Elgar’s anxiety spike so much it took his breath away.

He wouldn’t be able to conceal it forever, and truly, he didn’t want to live like this, not when he had a choice.

For the first time in so long, he had a choice.

Not an easy one. But he had to know.

* »Do you want to sleep with me?«

Elgar’s voice was so small, his eyes so fearful, that Orafin instantly knew what he was getting at, and once more his heart broke for the man who had reached out in kindness in his darkest hours. Both their darkest hours, really. The thought that he who had saved him would now fear Orafin would take advantage of his position to dig deeper into the horrific hurt he had been subjected to was unbearable.

Orafin blinked back tears — it wasn’t his place to cry, here — and decisively shook his head, seeking Elgar’s eyes. He reached out and took Elgar’s hand into his, squeezed it gently.

Elgar looked up at that. His fear wasn’t quenched, Orafin could tell, and he had to pull back to try and speak.

He didn’t have all the words to say what he needed to say yet, but for all its faults — mostly being so easily talked over, and Orafin having to learn a whole new way of communication well into adulthood—he had found sign language to be quite expressive, and it was easy to convey his intention by speaking soft and gently, like handling a small, frightened animal. »Calm down. I will never, never hurt you.«

Elgar nodded, and swallowed, and then tears slipped down his cheeks.

In truth, Orafin had been impressed with how well Elgar seemed to be handling himself. He, Orafin, had cried multiple times despite his best efforts, but Elgar…

Not until now.

Orafin reached out a hand and, very carefully, took Elgar’s. Squeezed. Only when Elgar squeezed back, Orafin, very carefully, wrapped his other arm around his shoulders.

He was relieved to find Elgar leaning into his touch.

»I’m sorry,« Elgar sobbed as Orafin, very carefully, pulled him into a full embrace. »I believe you.«

It’s okay, Orafin wanted to say. I’ve cried into your shoulder plenty. I know it’s hard. I just want you to feel safe.

But he would have had to let go for that, if he even had the words, so instead, he just held Elgar tighter and let him cry.

They slept arm in arm, and woke up well rested.

#whump #whump writing #comfort #my writing #orafin #elgar #the black prince is a tag that apparently already exists

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xunandran · 9 months ago

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Fuck it Friday (Firepilot Edition)

This episode was so good! But of course, I gotta make it nasty, lol! I would have been done, but I actually had to go back to work for 4 more hours after the episode was over, so I'm still working on the full fic, but have some Firepilot in honor of 07e06!

Full fic in the link! Not as nasty as I was going for, but still sweet!

“Mmmph.”

The enthusiastic crash of Evan’s lips against his is bewildering and intoxicating. He presses into the other man’s rough lips, crashing and tasting. He’s trying to be careful, trying to avoid imprinting too much of the fire’s afterthoughts into Evan’s clothes and skin. Evan is a beast though, the very definition of what he’d called him, and he’s ravenous.

When they pull away, Tommy’s breathless, nearly dazed. This wasn’t “go looking for hot chicks” Evan or even “I don’t know what I’m ready for” Evan. Tommy stares at Evan’s resolute blue eyes, twinking with so much devious glee that he feels inexperienced and small. Evan’s face is smeared with soot, his lips are plump, pink, and Tommy just wants to kiss him again.

Evan’s pulling him by the hand though, pulling him through the hospital’s halls toward Chimney’s room. “Evan. Your face.” But the other man doesn’t listen. He barrels forward singularly. Tommy might have been late, but he was going to be there.

They’re out of breath by the time they reach the press. Whether that’s from the mad dash, the fire, or Evan’s kiss, Tommy doesn’t know. Evan turns and places his hands on Tommy’s scorched turnout jacket. “They’re man and wife. They’ve kissed the bride and groom. Wish them well, but be quick.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, confused.

Evan smirks, and it spikes through every nerve in Tommy’s exhausted body. “Because I really need to get those off of you… right now.”

“I-uh-Eva…”

He doesn’t get to finish as Evan pulls him into the hospital room. “Hey! Look who almost made it!”

The crowd turns to them, and Tommy smiles, soot stained and exhausted. “Congratulations, you two! I’m sorry I missed the ceremony!”

Chimney nods and smiles. “Thanks Tommy! Looks like you two were… busy.”

Tommy’s honestly thankful for the grime to cover the blush, but Evan’s beaming, and he looks so handsome, soot smudged and all.

Evan scoots through the crowd to hug his sister and Chimney, and Tommy does his best to make pleasantries without spreading the ash on his clothes. To his left, he hears Evan and Eddie talking, and then they hug, a great tight thing that suggests that maybe everything he might have assumed from yesterday was just a misinterpretation.

As Evan takes his hand to pull them out of the door, Tommy hears Evan’s mother. “Where are you going?”

Evan stops and looks, first to Maddie, who smiles and nods, then to Eddie, who lightly shakes his head, almost as if he knows Evan’s thoughts better than the other man does. Finally, he looks back at Tommy and smiles before rounding on his parents. “I’m taking my date home to help him get cleaned up.” He doesn’t wait for their response. He pulls Tommy from the cramped hospital room and back down the hall.

“Evan.” Tommy stops the other man’s frantic pace by digging in. Advantages to having size and muscle mass on your partner. Evan turns to him, smile dopey and giddy, but faltering slightly. “Are you okay?”

Evan scrubs at his mouth, and Tommy swears it just digs the grime in further. Tommy can hear the other man’s nervous swallow. “I-I just did that, huh?”

Tommy scoffs, but it’s a friendly sound. His eyes crinkle with warm affection, and his nose creases with a smile that is apparently enough to calm Evan, because the megawatt smile returns, teeth and sunshine. “You just did that. I hope you don’t feel like I-”

“No,” Evan interrupts, resolute. “I said you were my date today. You’re my date today.” He takes Tommy’s fingers in his, and the older man lightly thumbs along their joined digits.

“Okay.”

Tommy watches in real time as Evan’s confidence returns. The man that had just been shaken from coming out to his entire world squared up and cockily slid closer. Tommy liked this Evan. No, that was accurate. He liked Evan - Neurotic, infodumping, nervous, and now cocksure, he liked them all.

“You wouldn’t think less of me if I put out on the first date, would you?” Evan’s words ghost between kisses. The kisses are warm and sweet, but Evan’s gaze and the way it rakes over him is anything but sweet.

“I mean,” Tommy shrugs, lips in a tight smirk. “This isn’t our first date, so your virtue’s intact.”

Evan’s fingers slide into Tommy’s hair and lightly pull at the scalp. He kisses him again, fevered and needing. Tommy groans as Evan’s nails lightly rake against the back of his neck. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?”

Fucking hell, Evan. How was he supposed to resist an invitation like that?

Tommy lets Evan lead him to his jeep. He’s sore. He’s dirty. He’s exhausted. In all honesty, he doesn’t know how high Evan’s expectations are. He only hopes that the other man is understanding. They drive in comfortable silence to Harbor so Tommy can stow his kit and gather his things. Along the way, Evan takes Tommy’s hand and thumbs along the knuckles. Tommy watches him drive, cast in nothing but the slow strobe of streetlights to illuminate him. The lights pull shadows along his strong jaw, his nose, his adam’s apple. Evan catches him looking more than once, but Tommy doesn’t care.

#911 spoilers #fuck it friday #evan buckley #tommy kinard #evan buckley fanfic #tommy kinard fanfic #firepilot #firepilot fanfic #bucktommy #bucktommy fanfic #my fanfic

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dragongirlie56 · 1 day ago

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05- Solace in Lullabies

My submission for Zelinktines! (and a one shot i’ve been wanting to write for a while now lol)

I chose prompt 2: Singing!

I wanted to only do 500 word drabble…. but I went to 2,000 words. I’m not mad about it.

@zelinktines

Thanks for hosting this! It’s such a cute idea!!

Ship: Zelink BOTW

Angst and fluff balance!

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Moonlight lit the back of Link's tunic. The faint light cast his weak shadow across the stone. He stood at the edge of the spring with his gaze toward the arch entrance. The legendary sword resting in his grip, the tip of his blade grazing the ancient grounds. His cerulean eyes scanned for any ounce of danger that threatened to push past him.

Flurries of snow descended from above, landing in his dirty blonde locks and his sleeves. He couldn’t deny that it was peaceful up on Mount Lanayru, however, peace was far from the young hero’s mind. He could never ease his mind when Zelda was troubled, especially when they visited the springs.

Zelda was immersed waist-deep in the freezing cold water; her once recited prayers shifted into anguished pleas. The bitter heartache laced in her voice was more than enough for him to tell she was reaching her limit.

It tore his heart in every direction.

“Curse you.” His ears twitched slightly at the sound of water splashing and his heart stopped. She didn’t fall in did she? Right as he turned to check she spoke again, easing his initial panic. ”Every single day I pray and every single day you show no signs in return! I’ve been doing this all my life. I had no childhood just so I could pray to you for some stupid powers that don’t seem to work! Do you really wish for Hyrule to crumble at the hands of that monster? Do you want me to fail so terribly that you’d risk the world? Your people? My friends who are risking their lives? My-“ She choked on a sob. “Are you even there?”

Link closed his eyes, a sorrowful sigh escaping him. The goddess was testing his patience. Was she just like the rest of the skeptics parading around Hyrule who doubted the young princess, including the king himself? His fists tensed around the hilt of his sword… some goddess she was and some father the king claimed to be.

A spike of anger stabbed his gut. Screw Hylia, screw Ganon, screw the faithless, and screw the king. If it wouldn’t result in exile, Link would give the King of Hyrule a piece of his mind.

“What is wrong with me?”

The words pierced him like a lynel spear, tearing him from his thoughts and making his eyes widen. Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with you! He wanted to scream out but his throat went dry. Dry with his oath to the royal guard and his appointed position… he was only her protector. But doesn’t being her protector also permit him to support her and protect her emotionally? The thought made him furrow his brows.

“Tell me! Am I really that worthless? Am I not worthy enough to wield Hylia’s great power?”

Her last cry cut the tether holding him down in place. He couldn’t stand by. Not anymore. The blonde set his sword down and descended the stone staircase.

Ice water surrounded him and he sucked in a sharp breath as he waded through the spring. How did she do this all the time?

“Link.” His pointed ears caught her whisper as she turned around. Her wide, green eyes locked onto his soft, blue ones as they reached for each other at the same time. Her legs gave out as she stepped toward him but Link was quick to wrap an arm under her knees and pull her against him.

Her lips were as blue as the fading sky and her face was paler than the color of snow.

I knew I should have pulled her out sooner. Link gritted his teeth as he internally kicked himself. If she developed hypothermia he’d never forgive himself.

A sob racked its way up her throat and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Link, I-I’m sorry.” She wiped away a stream of tears with her palm. “I feel nothing-”

The knight shook his head, tightening his arms around her shivering form.

She worked so hard, he saw that. Every minute, every day, every hour. She was so dedicated to helping her people, that was what mattered. His chest ached… he wished he could tell her he disagreed with her father’s harsh remarks on her and her training. He wanted to tell her that she was more than a princess to him.

That he loved her.

The thought sent his heart in a frantic spiral. He had broken the biggest rule of all. He had taken a hammer and shattered it with little regret—if any at all.

‘Don’t have any personal relations with the princess, it’s strictly professional. For your only duty is to protect her. It is treason otherwise.’ His captain’s words echoed through his ears. In other words, he warned not to fall for the princess.

But Link didn’t just fall, he stumbled into the inevitable chasm and hit the ground rolling. Which… how could he not? There had to be some exception to that rule because lust wasn’t his driving force, no, he was undoubtedly and truly in love with her.

His father would be ashamed of him—-well the knight side of his father anyway. His captain would absolutely be ashamed of him. Though, Link couldn’t find it in him to care.

He’d tell her, but first he had to make sure she didn’t freeze to death.

Link set her down by the tent he had assembled prior to Zelda’s training. He rummaged through his bag before he handed her a set of her warm winter clothes, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

She sniffled and nodded once. A few wet strands of gold falling into her defeated eyes. He fought the urge to brush it behind her pointed ears.

While she changed, Link picked up his pile of wood to create a makeshift fire. He pulled out a piece of flint from his bag and struck a stray rock against it, creating a spark that fueled the flames.

He tossed a few more sticks in the fire.

”Where should I…?” Link turned toward Zelda’s voice, his eyes softening upon meeting her own. She was standing with her ceremonial dress in her hands; Water droplets dripped from its ruffled edges.

He took the dress from her grasp and gestured toward the orange flames.

”The fire…” he murmured.

”Oh yes, of course. Thank you.”

Link nodded as he laid the dress on the stone—out of reach from the falling snow. He reached into his bag once more, grabbing a spare set of his clothes. He found a secluded area and peeled his tunic off his torso.

The freezing air pierced his skin, making him wince. He seriously didn’t understand how Zelda had done this the last four nights. He would have a word with the king, this wasn’t safe at all.

If he had a daughter, he’d never treat her the way Rhoam treated Zelda and he certainly wouldn’t force her train relentlessly in the frozen mountain with no support or praise. No, if he had kids they would be supported to no end.

Link fastened his spare pair of boots and in little to no time he returned to the camp.

His blue eyes flicked to Zelda who sat on one of the stones near the fire. Color had returned to her face and her lips were back to its pink tint. Her eyes were locked on the dancing flames and her brows were scrunched together.

Oh how badly he desired to see an ounce of her smile. He missed it. Terribly. But with the calamity looming near and the weight of their burdens nearly crushing them, the rarity of the emerald eyed blonde cracking a smile had multiplied tenfold.

Link swallowed and cleared his throat before speaking. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth… voicing his thoughts still wasn’t his strong suit but he’d do it for her.

“Princess. There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally spoke, wrapping a wool blanket around her shoulders. His forearms rested on his knees as he stared at her.

A heavy sigh escaped her. “Link.” She shook her head, averting his gaze. She let out a sniffle before continuing. “I fear I won’t be able to help you when… when the time comes and you’ll- you’ll die because I didn’t train hard enough. All the great princesses before me were able to unlock it! I’m the only one who-“ She grimaced. “Who hasn’t.” More sniffles. “So there has to be only one explanation. There must be something wrong with…”

His thumb brushed her tears away. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he repeated, allowing his hand to linger for a few more seconds.

New tears shimmered in her viridescent gaze. ”You really believe that?”

He nodded, though he noticed her gaze drop and the subtle frown on her lips. She was still unsure or she wasn’t satisfied with his answer.

Link moved to sit next to her. His arm brushed against hers, making his heart flutter. He cleared his throat as he leaned back against the wall.

“Yes, Zelda, I really believe it…. I believe in you. And even if your powers don’t come, we’ll be okay. We’ll find another way.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

Their eyes met and she raised her eyebrows as her lips twitched into a smile. The blonde knight returned it; her smiles were extremely contagious… to him at least.

“Thank you Link.”

He gave her a nod before shifting his gaze to the flickering flames. They sat in a peaceful silence until Zelda rested her head on his shoulder. Link’s muscles tensed as her hair brushed against his cheek.

“Sorry- I hope this is okay.”

Link nodded—-the only response he could give at the moment. He really, really hoped she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

After a few moments she shifted and she shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He found himself asking.

“What?” She pulled away to look at him. “No- I’m fine. It’s just cold.” She shivered again and Link hesitantly opened his arms as he averted her emerald gaze.

Seconds seemed like minutes. Blood rushed to Link’s ears.

Why did I do that? I’m crossing a line-

Zelda wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, sending every blood cell to his head.

Oh what am I doing?

He battled his thoughts, insisting he was only protecting her from the harsh cold. Because that's all it had to be. Nothing more nothing less.

“I’m thinking about too many things… I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she murmured.

“You need your strength.”

She let out an airy chuckle. “I guess…. When do you sleep though? I never see you sleep.” Link shook his head. Always the curious one.

“Please try,” he responded to which Zelda sighed.

“Fine.”

Sleep wasn’t something Link had often, even when he was younger. He remembered his mother would check on him and his sister, Aryll, to make sure they were asleep. She always found him wide awake, looking out the window into the starry night sky.

She’d ask him ‘what’s wrong’ and he’d say ‘I can’t sleep’. She’d then sit on his neatly kept bed and say, ‘You get this from your father.’

Link always found that funny, he never believed it because his old man always snored at this time of night and slept until the birds stopped chirping. No way he could’ve had trouble sleeping at Link’s age.

His mom would pat his bed, tuck him in, and she’d start to sing. There were no words to the song, only the melody. As a child, this never failed to ease him into a peaceful slumber. So maybe…

Link closed his eyes and started to hum. His voice was soft as he sang the lullaby, the one that shared Zelda’s name. It was actually his favorite.

His hum carried in the slight breeze. He wished there was a way to stop time so they could stay in this moment forever without a worry in the world.

Zelda’s breaths slowed and her grip on his waist eventually loosened as the sweet melody came to an end.

Link opened his eyes and let his gaze drop to the sleeping princess.

He’d protect her with his dying breath, that was a promise.

The knight leaned down to lightly kiss the top of her blonde hair as if to seal the vow.

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Zelink masterlist

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