#these would be so cute as little boxes! i wonder how they open
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littlefleamart · 11 months ago
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hairmetal666 · 3 months ago
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The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.
"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.
"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."
"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"
"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."
"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"
Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.
"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"
There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.
"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"
He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.
"Uhh," Eddie says.
The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."
And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!
"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."
Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--
"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.
The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."
"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"
The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."
For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.
The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."
This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.
The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."
With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.
Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.
The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.
"I'm Eddie!"
"I know!"
The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"
Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."
Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."
He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.
"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"
Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."
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cherrynflowergarden · 5 months ago
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watch my boyfriend|| matt sturniolo
an hiiii it's 3.12 am while i post this heh how are y'all im super disappointed rn so enjoy a cute little piece to make up for the disappointment :')
tagged; @t1llysblogs [let me know if any of you want to be tagged in my works]
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warm air blew through her hair as she sat in the backyard. she was totally bored out of her mind. her boyfriend- matt was in the house doing good knows what. suddenly an idea stuck through her.
she had recently seen the trend where one person asks their followers to watch their partner. and she had to do this with matt.
going inside the house, she spotted matt quietly cutting some apples. opening her camera, she went beside him and kept her phone against a jar. quickly pressing the record button she said "hey guys can you watch my boyfriend for a second?" pressing a small kiss to her boyfriend's cheek she ran away from there, leaving a very confused and awkward matt.
matt knew he was socially awkward. and this moment added more proof to it. giving the camera a small wave and hello, he countinued chopping the apples. feeling bad for not entertaining his girlfriend's followers, he started talking.
"i was just chopping some apples for y/n/n so she could snack on them later. woman loves her apples more than me. anyways how are you guys doing? would you like some apple juice? y/n/n loves it too much!"
saying the last line he pushed a box of apple juice towards the screen. growing awkward again he started munching on the cut apples while wondering where on earth his girlfriend is.
"was he good? thanks for watching him guys." said a sudden voice. she was about to end the video when matt grabbed her from behind and continuously kissed her cheek. giggling at her boyfriend's behaviour, she ended the video. "babyyyy i missed you. look i even cut apples for you." was the last thing the video captured.
𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊
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user2
@/user1 could be us but you busy cheating
→ user1 GIRL WHAT I'M LITERALLY IN THE LIVING ROOM HOW CAN I CHEAT????
→ user2 you cheated in my dreams CHEATER😾😾
→ user1 goodbye
user3
came for yn and matt stayed for user1 and user2
liked by author
user4
he sold me drugs yn 😖
→ yourusername believable 😖
user5
he stole my phone yn 😖
user6
he kidnapped my grandma yn😖
→ yourusername AGAIN??? 🙀🙀
user7
he bullied me yn 😖
user8
they're so cute🎀
liked by author
user3
GOD HAS FAVOURITES
user5
THE AGRESSIVE CHEEK KISSES OMG ME WHEN 😭🩷
user9
sleeping on the railway tracks tonight
user10 i'm joining
user10
i hate happy couples 🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯
mattsturniolo
🩷🌷
liked by author
mattsturniolo
the comments are concerning 😟
user13
block me pls🙏🙏
user14
they're so pookies🎀🎀
liked by author
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THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.
word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3
a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress
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”— no.”
the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.
but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.
”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”
”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”
”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”
”not happening.”
”but —”
”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”
it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 
but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 
under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.
(his happiness is your priority, after all.)
but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.
he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.
”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”
a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 
he can’t be serious. 
you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.
— it’s so frilly. 
you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 
every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.
from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.
(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 
i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)
a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 
buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 
(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)
which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 
to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.
— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 
the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —
you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 
if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 
but no — he wanted you to wear it. 
and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.
”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”
”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.
”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 
sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.
the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.
a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 
”— because you love me?” 
satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.
and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 
valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”
”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 
(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)
”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”
satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 
until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.
”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.
”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.
and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 
but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.
satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.
and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 
”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 
attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 
it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 
”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”
”an hour? no way!” you scoff.
and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.
”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”
”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”
”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”
oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 
not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 
another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”
satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”
a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”
”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”
another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”
satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”
a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.
”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”
”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”
the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.
”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”
he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.
(even if you don’t.)
and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 
and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.
— a sigh. 
you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 
… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 
and if it’s just for a short while…
silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.
”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”
”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 
and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.
”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 
he looks so earnestly giddy.
eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.
(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)
”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.
”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.
a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…
”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.
”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 
”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”
satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.
you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”
”— i’m taking pictures.”
the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.
”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”
”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”
stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.
”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”
you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”
”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.
(what have you gotten yourself into?)
with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”
”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”
”yeah, yeah…”
the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.
(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)
and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 
it’s a perfect fit. 
a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.
after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 
and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.
it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 
and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.
(what the hell are you even doing?)
a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?
(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 
”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.
”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”
satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.
(all he can think of is you, you, you.)
curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.
you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.
when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.
 ”… i don’t want to.”
satoru pauses. 
he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.
”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”
you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”
a moment passes.
”… do i have to?”
the corners of his lips curl up.
ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”
a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.
until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.
it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.
(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)
there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 
and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.
after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”
— but satoru doesn’t answer. 
he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.
the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 
(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 
still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 
”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 
the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 
he’s completely stunned. 
no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 
and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.
crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.
”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 
upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.
— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.
it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.
god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.
crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 
even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.
and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 
yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.
he’s so cute.
(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)
so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.
and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.
”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”
satoru stiffens. 
(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)
slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 
with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 
satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.
a moment passes. then two.
then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.
”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”
a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 
a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.
all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.
evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 
”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 
squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 
a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”
”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.
”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”
a huff, lighthearted. 
suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.
your heart flutters. 
satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 
”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”
a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”
”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”
before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.
”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”
a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”
satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.
(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)
”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 
it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.
”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 
”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 
then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.
his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 
(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)
then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.
his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 
”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.
he’s so annoying. 
(but you’re far too in love to say no.)
so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.
satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.
when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.
”cutie.”
you blink. 
averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.
”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”
suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”
”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”
”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.
”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 
”and then we’re burning it.”
”noooo!” 
”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.
”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”
”that’s kinda the point, toru.”
”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”
he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.
”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”
a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”
”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”
”at lil’ old me? really?”
”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”
satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”
a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.
”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”
”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”
”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”
and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 
satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.
in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 
eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.
satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 
and yours, wholly and thoroughly.
(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…
what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)
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tame-the-lion-writes · 1 month ago
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Okay, so here I go. (I’m sorry if words are misspelled or if I used the wrong words; I’m dyslexic but thank goodness for autocorrect. Sometimes it corrects it for me and at others it puts a completely different word then what I meant; so fair warning.)
So, I was wondering if it will be Ghost that cat reader opens up to about her fear of deep water. It was pretty obvious that she has trauma from it from that one time Ghost tried to give her a bath after she was done for the day doing her “mouse killing” duty; it is most likely a deep fear developed from trauma from being held under by an abusive old owner/partner.
Like yes, it’s obvious she irritates Ghost out of “spite” (and probably does it for shits & giggles on her end) but HE was the one she clung onto when it was made clear of her fear of deep water. She may have been terrified but she felt safe enough to hold onto him & allowed him to comfort her during that event; she cuddled herself under his head and tapped her head against his chest which are signs of trust for a cat.
Yes, she’s definitely more friendly & open to Gaz (first to earn that with her), Soap (second) and Price (third to earn the right to be comfortable with her) but what if it actually came down to core issues/serious concerns it’s actually Ghost she goes to. Mostly because she can tell that although they annoyed each other (not really but more just for loving fun) that they DO understand each other on a level that the others just can’t.
The other three are there for basically nap time together, to play with and being cute with; but it is only with him will she be THAT open with serious things/issues. For her, he becomes her special & only companion for those kinds of matters. (Which once he realizes that she views ONLY him as special/worthy enough to be open with stuff does he feel honored instead of annoyed about it. After all he was trying to make a connection with her and now he has a strong one that only he has access to; she won’t open up about serious stuff with the others in a way that she will only do with him.)
Basically is will be the bases/beginning for her to start accepting him as a comfort source/companion. Of course, she’ll still be a little brat/little shit towards him; but it will be out of good fun/love intentions behind it, no malice or hatred behind her annoyance towards him anymore.
Hope this helps you come up with an idea. ☺️
Oh, babe, you got my vision perfectly LMAO. (And no worries about your dyslexia, I understood you perfectly!)
CW: mentions of past abuse (and technically attempted murder)
I won't go so far as to say that she would never go to the other boys, but yes, she has an extra special bond w/ Ghost because they both understand what it's like to survive abuse--especially abuse at the hands of someone they should've been able to trust. It's also very much an "I hate you" relationship in that they only "hate" each other because of that similarity/understanding. We tend to be more critical towards people like us because of how we perceive ourselves; we are our best critics, after all.
In short, "canonically," reader got tossed over a bridge into a river when her past owner tried to get rid of her. Something along the lines of--she became too big of a burden. Being a birthday/Christmas gift, they didn't expect the true responsibility of raising a pet. The reason doesn't really matter, though; either way, she scratched her way out of the soggy cardboard box and dragged herself to shore, then made her way to the old abandoned farm nearby. Hence why she doesn't like deep water--especially not when someone is carrying her towards it.
But next time Ghost tries to clean her, he's learned his lesson. Fills a small tub just 2-3 inches high, and instead of casually tossing her in, is surprisingly patient as he places her back paws in first--letting her wade a few seconds before plopping her front feet in. She's still whiny, of course, used to washing herself, but with Ghost's help, he get's the places she can't reach. Not to mention that the shampoo he's using smells pretty good.
"Not so mean when your buttons ain't pushed, huh?" he sighs, only to add-- "Sorry 'bout last time. Should've respected your boundaries."
You're quiet for a little before bumping your head into his hand, as if in acceptance of his apology.
"'Sides, you've got your reasons," he goes on, moving to scratch under your chin as well. "And fear ain't your fault."
You meow in understanding, then blink slow.
"Ha--" He copies the blink back. "Think this is the nicest you've been to me."
The rest of bath time is quiet, save for the sound of you shuffling around in the tub in response to Ghost's ministrations. But just as he finishes rinsing you clean of suds, Gaz comes around the corner, ready to kick off his boots after a long day.
"See you're gettin' close with the kit there," he smiles, dusting his hands off in mid-air. And while you half-expect Ghost to respond with acceptance, instead, he mutters--
"What else am I supposed to do? She stinks."
Well, there goes the moment.
You swipe at his hand with a hiss, only to be met with his scowl and a towel that swallows you whole.
When you do eventually tell him--the reason for your fear, that is--it's after another bath, and when you're snuggled close under the weight of his arm. His hand cups the back of your neck, callouses almost silky from how he handles you oh-so gently. A tempered practice he's forced himself to learn since you met. Because though kindness doesn't come naturally to him, it doesn't unnerve you; sometimes you wonder if kindness, as a choice, is better.
"You know I--" he clears his throat-- "we'd never. Right?" Simon whispers, his voice as deep as the purr that eventually rumbles through your chest.
Your fingers dance through the fine blonde of his hair, illuminated only by thin streaks of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Then you draw your palms down, so instead, you're holding the sides of his face, the scars and marks of his beautifully imperfect skin like stories untold beneath your thumb. And you press your nose to his.
"I know."
(He may or may not run into your former owner eventually, and he may or may not threaten to kill him or worse. But that's a story for another day :D)
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rynbutt · 7 months ago
Text
pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
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You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
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reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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aquaticmercy · 21 days ago
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Dangerous Game
Summary : Bucky Barnes is dating a trigger-happy antihero, and she has him wrapped around her finger. She’s just Bucky’s pretty girl, and he lets her get away with everything.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : Violence. Blood. Cursing. Sexual References.
Requested by : anon
Word count : 1.9k
Note : This was a very interesting prompt to write to, and I hope I’ve done it justice. Enjoy!
Requests are open!
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The fine rain splashed softly against the warehouse rooftop, a soothing backdrop to the mission that Bucky Barnes was on. The dim light flickered overhead, casting shadows across the grimy concrete floor. 
Bucky was crouched behind a stack of crates, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. He could hear the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter of the filthy men inside the building.
They were mercenaries that would sell their services to the highest bidder. They were the kind of low-life that made Bucky’s skin crawl. 
His mission was simple: infiltrate, gather intel, and get out. 
As always, he wasn't alone. 
You were by his side, a vision of chaos so beautifully wrapped in leather, sporting an unapologetic smile. 
You weren't an Avenger, and you would never be.
Sam had seen your… trigger happy tendencies. It unnerved him, uneased him. The thought that Bucky was dating you, sharing his life with you, was… interesting, to say the least.
Sam didn't say anything to his friend though, because he could see how much happier Bucky was with you. Sometimes he wondered if your tendency for violence made Bucky feel normal in comparison.
Maybe that was exactly what he needed out of a relationship. 
But it didn’t matter if Sam liked you or not. You didn’t need to be an Avenger. You didn’t want to be an Avenger. You thrived in the shadows, as a vigilante with an ever growing lust for destruction. You had your own friends, a tight knit circle that included the likes of Wade Wilson and Frank Castle.
“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, your voice low but filled with playful mischief. You brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, looking over your shoulder at Bucky with a happy glint in your eye. A little too happy for what you’re about to do. “You keep watch while I have a little fun.”
Bucky’s heart raced. “Be careful.”
You giggled at his adorable worry. Looking out for your wellbeing, that’s cute.  
Bucky knew you didn’t take any threats, or any enemy seriously. With a wink, you slipped through the doorway, leaving him to wonder just how far you would go to get the job done.
Inside, the mercenaries lounged, oblivious to the danger creeping closer. You moved like a shadow before drawing the attention of the men with your bold confidence. You were bathing the thrill of the hunt, and they were your prey. 
As Bucky waited, he leaned against the crates, thoughts drifting to the strange affection he had for you. You were a puzzler. A beautiful, deadly enigma. 
On the surface, you wore a facade of charming quirkiness, a blend of laughter and warmth that captivated everyone around you. You would go to your favourite bookshop weekly, making fast friends with everyone who worked there. You have always tipped generously in your favourite coffee shop. You bought boxes and boxes of pizza every once in a while to feed the homeless around the city. You baked cookies for your neighbour’s kids regularly. 
Beneath that, however, lurked a dark side. You had a craving for violence that made even Bucky, a man with a history of bloodshed, question your sanity. 
Sure, you had a very strong moral code, stronger than even the most reinforced vibranium. 
You would never harm an innocent soul, not even in the heat of battle. Every life you took was carefully considered, weighed against the countless innocent lives snuffed out by those mercenaries and criminals you hunted. It was the reason you had earned his admiration.
After all, when he first met you, you were so determined to slit his throat and hack him into pieces.
Back then, you had heard about The Winter Soldier, the Hydra agent who had killed with no remorse. When you tracked him down that day, he was nothing more than another target you needed to get rid of.
Your mind was set, your instincts primed to take him out. But as you confronted him, something shifted in the air. He had given you a fight, the first time anyone could even go toe to toe with you in a while.
Somehow, you were not beyond reason.
He explained himself, sharing the horrific truths of his past—the mind control, the manipulations, the guilt that haunted him. 
In that moment, the unyielding resolve that had guided you faltered. You realised that Bucky was not the monster that his files had painted him out to be; he was a man seeking redemption for sins he didn’t choose.
Your moral code did not let you kill him.
Still, that day, as you looked into his blue eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of attraction. With your unfiltered, charming, bluntness you had said, “You’re hot. How about we grab a drink sometime?”
Bucky hadn’t known why he said yes that day, but now he can confidently say that was the best decision he had ever made.
He just loved you. God, did he love you. Even as he stood there, knowing he should be concerned about how you go about dealing out your brand of justice, all he could think of was how you made him feel alive again.
A crash interrupted his thoughts. He heard the sound of furniture against the wall, followed by a series of panicked shouts. Bucky’s heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins. He peeked through the doorway, watching as you unleashed brute force at the mercenaries, your movements a blur of lethal elegance. 
You were toying with them, a wicked smile plastered on your face as you dealt with them one by one.
“Hey, Bucky!” you called, laughter in your voice. “I’m on a roll!”
“Keep it contained!” he yelled back. A part of him wanted to join in, to keep you safe, to protect you, but he knew that you were more than fine on your own. 
Besides, you were unpredictable enough without him diving in and interrupting your method.
Bucky once again turned his ear to the entrance. He could hear the unmistakable sounds of punches landing, blades slicing, screams muffled by the loud creaking sound of breaking bones, and the violent thuds of bodies hitting the ground. It was a brutal symphony, and he did not know if it thrilled or terrified him.
As time passed, the shouts and laughter of your madness echoed through the building. Finally, it went silent. He took a deep breath and prepared to step inside.
Had you really taken out everyone in there? 
As he stepped through the doorway, his lungs felt like it was about to collapse. The sight before him was fucking mesmerising and horrifying. The twenty mercenaries lay scattered across the room, their bodies twisted and broken. Blood pooled beneath them, the once-quiet warehouse now a scene of carnage. 
You stood in the centre, breathing heavily, your bloody sword in hand. You wore a triumphant grin that made your eyes sparkle with sheer delight. You were like a painter showcasing your masterpiece.
Bucky’s heart raced—not entirely out of fear, but something more complicated. 
“Bucky! Look!” You spun around, beaming with joy, your leather jacket blood red with the remnants of your work. “I cleared the place out!”
“What the fuck…” Bucky whispered, staring in disbelief at the scene. The chaos, the brutality—it was all so casual for you, just another Wednesday night. “You killed them all?”
You giggled, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most mundane task in the world. “You said we needed intel, and I figured this was a more efficient method. We can now just raid their files! Plus,” you added, your tone light and teasing, “they were so rude. Did you hear what they called me?”
Bucky shook his head, trying to process what had just happened. It was shocking, and yet, he couldn't deny the flutter in his chest as he watched you admiring the efficiency of your work. Your beauty had always been magnetic, but this? This was something else entirely.
And somehow, it only made him want you more.
“Insane,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You’re insane.”
You laughed again, and it was bright and intoxicating. You filled the dim warehouse with a sense of warmth. “I prefer ‘eccentric,’ actually.”
Bucky shook his head. His heart was racing as he moved closer to you, trying not to step at a severed hand or a disembodied head. “You’re not afraid of any of this?”
“Of what? Killing them?” You shrugged, stepping over a fallen body with ease. “They had it coming the second they killed the little girl down the road. You know that.” 
This mission was brought to your attention when this group of mercs had shot an heiress of a financial empire. She was only six years old, and she had bled to death in the middle of the night in her bedroom, alone and scared. 
He should’ve known by the look in your eyes that day that you were going to make them pay for it.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of admiration and dread. “I didn’t realise just how much of a loose cannon you really are.”
Your smile softened, and you took a step toward him. You sheathed your sword back. “I’m your loose cannon.”
“You’ve got to be more careful,” he said, but could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips. You were reckless, undeniably dangerous, but there was something about you that held him captive. Still, his voice did not waver. “This isn’t a game, doll.”
“Oh, Bucky, but it is!” You laughed, the sound infectious. “Life is a game, and we’re just playing by our own rules. Besides, they’re bad guys. No one will miss them, anyway.”
Your logic echoed in his mind, making him realise just how twisted you truly were. He wondered, for a second, if this act was a coping mechanism to offload all the killing you thought you had to do. 
“I swear, one of these days, I’m going to have to rein you in,” he said, even though you could hear the affection lacing his words. Despite the madness, despite the horror of the moment, he found himself smiling at you, drawn by the way you lit up even the darkest of situations. “But maybe not today.”
You stepped back, feigning a dramatic sigh. “You sure you don’t want to keep me on a leash, Sarge?” 
“Maybe,” Bucky had a sly, flirty grin on his face. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “but not here.”
“Oh?” You asked, a wild gleam in your eye. 
His touch crumbled under your gaze, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief and seduction. You were his pretty girl, no matter how bloody and bruised. 
You closed the distance, your lips crashing against his in a heated kiss that sent fireworks exploding behind his eyes. Bucky’s hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as he melted into your arms. You tasted like exhilaration and danger, a combination that left him breathless.
You activated something so primal in him, and he couldn’t help but moan against your lips, losing himself in the taste of you. 
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured when he finally pulled away, his breath hot against your ear as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of blood, sweat, and perfume.
“I know.” You giggled, playful as ever. “And you’re my handsome soldier, aren’t you?”
“Always,” he replied, the word spilling from his lips without a fraction of a thought. 
You had him so hopelessly wrapped around your little finger, and he was more than willing to let you lead him wherever your heart desired. 
And that was a dangerous game.
-end
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rowarn · 1 year ago
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okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever könig fighting for ur attention!!!
when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.
the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.
the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.
he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.
part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.
it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met könig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.
when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.
it was kind of...cute.
when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!
tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.
as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.
in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with könig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.
he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.
the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.
until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with könig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).
könig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.
"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.
you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.
you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end könig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.
"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"
that was one thing you liked about könig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.
simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.
even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.
and könig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.
it wasn't like könig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.
so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.
he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.
"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with könig annoyed him more than you thought.
you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."
that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.
"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."
that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named könig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"
"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.
"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.
at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"
that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.
he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!
the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.
then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.
simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.
simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.
the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with könig. it was a quaint little bar that könig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.
you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.
his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.
you cursed under your breath, catching könig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at könig.
"can we help you...?" könig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.
"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. könig straightened up in his seat at that.
"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.
you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards könig who looked confused.
"no." you answered simply.
with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.
simons glare fixed upon könig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.
könig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.
it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.
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nsfwruru · 23 days ago
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top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader
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hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣
cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”
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You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.
“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!
The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.
And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?
Wrong!
It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)
you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”
yunnnnjin: “hi”
yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”
you: “thank u sm!”
you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”
yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”
you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”
yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”
you: “hm??”
yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”
staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.
yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”
yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”
you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”
*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*
Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.
The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.
The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.
Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!
That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.
you: “wow”
you: “so you are real.”
yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”
you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”
yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”
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You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.
Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.
She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”
“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“
“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.
Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.
It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.
Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.
Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.
It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.
You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.
Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.
Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.
With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”
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urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!
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chanswhxre · 1 month ago
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Channie's Room [Kinktober '24]
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✩ kinktober masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ ao3
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♡ Pairing : chan x afab! reader
♡ Genre : smut, daddy kink
♡ Word count : 2.5k words
♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content. I will not put any more specific warnings to avoid spoiling the story. Read at your own risk!
❗️ minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.
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September is almost ending, and nothing in your life seems to be going well. You have a job, but it isn't what you wanted in the first place but it pays well, though; you just broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years, you're getting kicked out of your old apartment for adopting a kitten, and when life couldn't get any worse, your cat just puked on your favorite rug just before you were about to pack it, you wanted to scream, but you didn't want to scare off your cat. You loved the little bugger even if he's a pain in the ass sometimes. You wanted to relax a bit before going back to packing, and you remembered it was Saturday night, and that only means one thing,
🔴 Channie's Room is now LIVE
You settled in with your comfortable clothes, your favorite drink, and, of course, your favorite toy. You got into the stream and saw him, only in a white, fitting tank top, camera stopping on his neck; he's got a new wolf scratch tattoo on his shoulder; shit makes him hotter than ever. 
"Hey everyone, it's your favorite Korean-aussie, Channie!" He greets, making hand gestures.
He seems awfully cute with his greetings. He takes his time to catch up with his viewers and greets his loyal patrons and generous tippers. You've been a patron for as long as you can remember, and you loved his genre. Even though he streams NSFW content, he makes you happy and giddy. You also know deep down that this guy looks good. 
"Oh wow, thanks for the tip, wanderingbae. I haven't even started yet." He giggled, and you could see his abs tense. You bit your lip wondering what he got in store for today's live.
"Tonight, I'm doing requests! I want to know what my baby girls and boys want to see for tonight. So let's open up my ngl." He giggled.
"Oh, baby girl asks if daddy can take his tank off and..wow you want to hear daddy whimper? Tell you how much he likes it and how bad he needs to cum?" How can this man go from cute to sexy in just a blink? He was giggling a few seconds ago, and now he's straight-up teasing.
This would be another Channie's room that surely won't fail to give you mind-blowing orgasms. Let the stream begin!
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The following day, you filed for leave to facilitate your moving to a new apartment. You went later in the afternoon after you finished packing all your stuff. Your room was on the fourth floor, and it's just your luck that the elevator was being repaired for the day and would be fixed late in the evening.
"Great, just great." You sighed, looking at your things. You didn't really have a lot of stuff: two big suitcases of clothes and other necessities, a huge box for other essential life stuff such as kitchenware, your cat's things, and your cat carrier. How could you bring these to the fourth floor? Sure, multiple trips wouldn't be the problem, but the weight of what you're going to carry was the one you're worried about.
"Need some help?"
You turned to look at the man who spoke with a familiar voice, making you unconsciously drop your jaw at the gorgeous man in front of you.
"Oh, it's fine. I can wait for the uh elevator."
"Really? I heard it won't be fixed until late in the evening. What floor are you moving to?"
"Fourth, but really, I can wait. I don't want to bother you or anything, " you insisted.
"I live on the fourth floor, too! Nice to meet you, neighbor. My name is Chris." He smiled. You know you're not supposed to trust strangers, especially good-looking ones, but who cares about stranger danger if it's this man? You feel a good vibe from him, and besides, he probably lives next to your new apartment. Getting to know your neighbors is a good start.
"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, too."
"Let me help you carry these. I insist." He offered again.
"Are you sure? We're probably going to make a few trips up and down."
"I can handle it. Carry what you can, and I'll take care of the rest." He winked.
You carried what you could, and it was done in a flash. How did this guy carry all of it? How does he have so much stamina? He settled your things in the living room, and you thanked him for it. You asked him to stay so you could order food for him as another way of saying thank you, but he said he'd come over another time, and then you added that you could cook for him.
Settling into your new apartment was surprisingly easy, especially when your neighbor is very kind, not to mention eye candy. He gets along with your cat so well. You've shared a few conversations, and you have even invited him over for dinner sometimes or just to hang out, and he would be totally down for it. You've spent quite some time together for a month already, and you'd be a liar if you didn't say you hadn't had a single dirty thought about this man.
"Cool tattoo you got there." You complimented him on the wolf scratch tattoo on his arm. It's the first time you're seeing it since he rarely wears a muscle tee or tank top outside since it's cold. It looked oddly familiar, though.
"Thanks." He smiled.
It was your first time in his apartment since he usually visited yours. He graciously offered to cook dinner tonight, and while he was setting up the table, you looked around and saw a few pictures of him, his baby pictures, his family back in Australia, and his dog. You saw a guitar and a keyboard near the shelf of a thousand albums of probably his favorite artists, and then a small opening of his room showed he had LED lights and a computer setup inside. His room looked like you'd seen it somewhere, but you just couldn't point out where. It's your first time coming to his apartment that's why it baffled you why it was so familiar.
Dinner was served, and it was delicious. Chris opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate. He said that he had reached a milestone on his channel. Chris had told you he worked online as a freelancer, but now that he's mentioned the word "channel," he might be a famous YouTuber, but you were too dumb to notice.
"So, what's your youtube channel? What content do you do?" You asked him.
"Oh, I don't upload on youtube. I livestream on some website."
"What website?" you asked out of curiosity, and then it clicked to you exactly who he was: the broad torso, the muscular arms, the tattoo, and the accent. It's him—it's definitely him. You're not being delusional.
"An adult livestream site." He gave you a mischievous smile. "Judging by your expression, I have a feeling that you know who I am."
"You... you're Channie in Channie's room, aren't you?" you hesitantly said, and he laughed at how cute you were blushing when you mentioned his screen name and channel. Obviously, you were a patron since you knew who he was and the title of his streams, but he didn't know that you were a generous tipper, too.
"Guessed it right." He chuckled. "You a fan?"
You were hesitant to tell him the truth; would he make fun of you? Or would he think that it's hot how you watch him every weekend? Oh how you wanted to scream from fangirling, you've always wanted to see how Channie looked like and you were right, he looked like God had taken the time to perfect him with the just the right amount of everything but overflowing with sexual appeal and gorgeousness all over.
"So you are." He concluded with your reaction, and you gulped. "Hey, there's nothing to be shy of, baby girl."
Your clit buzzed when he called you baby girl, and you might have felt a little wetness start to pool down there.
"You're shitting me. How come I didn't notice right away? Those kissable lips you show from time to time, the fucking hot wolf tattoo—oh shit, I said too many words, was it too much?—"
"So you think I have kissable lips?" He teased.
"No! I mean, yes, you do! I didn't expect you'd be this hot in person and that you'd be m-my neighbor!" You stuttered, getting nervous for the first time in his presence.
"Well, did I exceed your expectations?" he asked, and you nodded, pursing your lips, scared that you'd accidentally tell him your nastiest thoughts about him. "Wolf, got your tongue?"
"N-no..I don't know." You said. 
You can't even look him in the eye. You wondered if he was imagining how you'd play with him every weekend, and you got embarrassed thinking about it, but little did you know he was already imagining it. Did you like his streams? Did you get turned on out of your mind? Did his streams make you sopping wet? Did he help you have earth-shattering orgasms?
Chris thought his heart would burst because of your cuteness, and he couldn't help but be curious; since you saw him cum on cam for god knows how many times, he wanted to see how hot you looked cumming too, but he didn't want to cross a line if you weren't good with it.
"Hey, don't be shy. I should be the one who should be embarrassed. You've seen me play with myself and cum loads of times, I bet." He tried to reassure you.
"Yeah..it was really sexy every time you do." You bit your lip, gathering your courage to look him in the eye. Flashbacks of him playing with himself and shooting hot strings of cum running through your head at full speed.
"I'd really like to see you cum too, if I may." He said, trying to shoot his shot.
"What?" Your eyes widen in shock. "I don't think I look sexy when I cum."
"Let me be the judge of that, kitten." He said, and with that, he moved closer to you, brushing his nose against yours. Were you going crazy? Yes, you were. Were you just letting this man have his way with you? Absolutely. Were you going to make him cum just like in his livestream? Why the hell not? "So, are you down?"
"Yes, daddy." You didn't know how that slipped, but that answer made Chris growl.
You softly placed your lips on his, and he went berserk at how soft your lips were. He didn't want to be rough, but he couldn't help but feel excited, so he cupped your cheeks and deepened the kiss. Your hands roamed around each other's bodies as if you missed each other for a long time, leaving no part untouched.
Chris suddenly carried you, not breaking the kiss and flopping you on his bed. He climbed on top of you. He swiftly unclipped your bra, and before you knew it, both of you were undressed in his bedroom. He trailed kisses down your ear, jaw, and neck all the way down until you felt his hot breath reach your dripping core.
"Fuck, this is how wet you get for me, baby?" He groaned; he couldn't wait anymore and started devouring you.
Wet. Hot. Messy
That's how Chris liked it, and honestly, this was driving you crazy as well. You never thought you would end up like this, sprawled in his bed as he eats you with much gusto. He never tasted cunt as sweet as yours, and that instantly made him addicted to your taste. He circled his skilled tongue on your clit, making you moan loudly, and when he sucked on it, you grabbed on his hair for dear life.
“Fuck, daddy!” You moaned, feeling your orgasm build up.
“Yeah? You like that?” He growled between slurps, drinking your juices like he was deprived of water in the desert.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”
“Come on, cum for daddy.”
Your body shook hard as your orgasm washed over you, and Chris hadn’t stopped sucking on your clit even if you were already shaking from sensitivity. He hooked his strong arms around your thighs, preventing you from getting away from his mouth as you writhe from the slight pain and sensitivity.
"Fuck, I would pay to see you cum every damn time!"
As you came down from your high, you pushed him on the bed and straddled him, kissing him, tasting yourself through his mouth.
Finally, you can live out your fantasy of sucking his cock and not just stare at it through the screen. He was already leaking. You always wondered what his cum tasted like, so you licked a bit of it on his precum-coated tip while making eye contact. It was everything you've ever imagined. His eyes were looking directly at yours with desire and anticipation.
You wrapped your hand around his thick girth and spread his precum with your thumb all over the tip of his cock, which earned an exasperated sigh from him. You licked from the bottom of his shaft all the way up before swallowing him whole. You knew Chris was a moaner in his streams, but hearing it in person was absolute euphoria. You sucked and swirled your tongue on his cock as moans spilled from his mouth, and before you knew it, he was already pulling you to sit on it. He got a condom in his bedside drawer and slid it down his thick, hard cock quickly.
You held his cock to position it on your dripping entrance and slowly sank on it. Both of you let out a satisfied groan once he bottomed out. You grinded on his cock at a slow pace which was frustrating him, so he flipped you over and slowly started picking up the pace. It was rough but delicious. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he began hitting that sweet spot inside you.
“Who’s your daddy, baby girl? Tell me.”
“You are...SHIT!” You screamed as he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he thrusts into you hard and deep.
“Like that baby? You like daddy rubbing your little swollen clit like that?”
“Yes! FUCKING YES, DADDY!”
You felt his cock twitch every time you called him daddy. He continued his ministrations, and he felt your pussy tighten as you reached your peak and then it contracted uncontrollably as if your orgasm was milking Chris into his very own, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he came into the condom. Moans and profanities slipped out of his mouth as you both rode your orgasms out. Chris withdrew and threw the condom out and laid beside you—both of you sweaty and out of breath.
“That was..”
“Mind-blowing.” He finished your sentence for you.
“Mind if we do it again sometimes, daddy?”
He giggled, cringing at the word you called him by in a non-sexual situation.
“Sometimes?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I guess you don’t want the full Chris experience then?”
“Every day then, if you let me join in on your streams someday.” You teased, unserious about joining, but it wouldn't be bad, though.
“Deal!”
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✩ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me, and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and interacted with my works, such as comment, and reblog especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡
✩ if you want to support my work, buy me a coffee ☕
- love, jan ♡
© 2024 Chanswhxre
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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months ago
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Only Yours ~ MYG
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‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.7K
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationships,playfully rejecting her until it goes too far, he loves YOUR attention and no one elses, first kiss, cute, fluffy ending
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST
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Yoongi and you have always been extremely close and comfortable with one another, the two of you would rarely hang out without the other one being there and it was something you loved. Whenever you were around him you'd be super affectionate with him in subtle ways - that the guys and even Yoongi had noticed.
You'd fix his hair, bring him coffee, lightly tease him about things and shower him with tons of compliments or sometimes even gifts. It wasn't that much of a big deal since it was something you loved doing and it was your love language. Yoongi usually played it off like he did with Taehyung, he'd brush off your gestures in a playful, teasing way. He'd swat your hand away when you were ruffling his hair or sometimes give you a deadpanned comment whenever you complimented him. It was just what he did but they were meant to just be lighthearted, something he did with everyone but he hadn't noticed that it started to chip away at you.
Every swat or deadpan comment chipped your confidence away bit by bit until you were second-guessing everything you'd done for him and wondering if he even cared at all.
"You got something for Yoongi again?" Jimin teases you as you walk into the studio after a long day, he can see the small bag in your hand and that usually means you had a present for one member only. The boys had just finished rehearsals and you saw yoongi scrolling through his phone.
"Maybe," you smirk holding the small bag in your hand. You'd been out that morning when you spotted the perfect gift for Yoongi.
"What is it, Yn? Another one of your 'special gifts'?" Yoongi questioned with a lazy smirk plastered across his face, secretly adoring that you'd gotten him something he was going to put with all of your other gifts. Unbeknownst to you and the members Yoongi kept everything you'd ever gotten him.
"You know it! Open it! Open it!" you giggled handing him the small box that was wrapped in silver shiny paper. Sighing to himself Yoongi took the box and began to tear open the paper to reveal a sleek, black notebook that had his name embossed on the over. You watched him waiting for a reaction but he just deadpanned,
"Ah, a notebook. Just what I needed...another one. I have like ten of these." He teased but you hadn't picked up on the teasing tone, only that he hated your gift. Laughing a little to yourself you tried to brush it off but Jimin noticed the nervousness in your eyes, it was as plain as day.
"I just thought...you could use it for lyrics. It's small enough to put in any bag, so when inspiration strikes," You shrugged a little and Yoongi shut the notebook, leaning back against the sofa and chuckling.
"Yeah, because I definitely need another one to stare at blankly when I can’t think of lyrics." The others laughed at his dry humour but your smile faltered ever so slightly, it was one of those blink and you'll miss it kind of things but it hadn't gone unnoticed by Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.
"Don't worry, Yn. Yoongi's just being Yoongi. He loves it, in his own...weird way." Jimin tries to reassure you sensing that something is wrong but Yoongi shrugs clearly not realising how much his teasing was getting to you. Turning to you with a smirk he looked at you,
"You know me, Yn. I'm not exactly a 'gift' person." He shrugs a little and you force a smile onto your lips before speaking softly.
"Yeah-yeah...I know." You laugh lightly trying not to draw attention to your small stutter. You shrugged it all off, but there was a subtle shift in your demeanour as you turned your head to the door and mumbled something about going to get everyone a drink. Yoongi smirked a little still not realising what had happened but someone did. Jimin noticed the change in your mood instantly and began exchanging a glance with Jungkook who nodded at him to go after you.
You stood inside of the small kitchen and leaned against the counter, trying to shake off the sting of Yoongi’s words. It seemed silly for you to get worked up over something like this but you couldn't help the way it hurt you, you thought Yoongi loved this side of you but it was beginning to eat away at you that maybe he found it all a bit annoying. Looking at yourself in the reflection of the glass cabinet you took a deep breath and grabbed a glass of water. Jimin looked over at you as he walked into the room, leaning against the wall.
"Hey… you okay?" Stupid question when he could clearly see that you weren't but you turned to face him, forcing a smile onto your face.
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" You shake your head at him, playing it off like nothing was wrong but Jimin saw right through you. He crossed the room before leaning on the counter beside you and giving you a knowing look. Sometimes he liked to think he knew you better than you knew yourself and he knew right now you were lying.
"You looked a little upset back there. Did something Yoongi said bother you?" You looked down at your glass and then rolled your eyes. You were probably just being overdramatic about it all,
"It’s nothing. He’s just… being Yoongi, right?" Jimin nodded at you but then sighed a little,
"True. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t bother you." You hesitated a little before glancing down at your glass and sighing, it wasn't like you wanted to be upset over it.
"I don’t know, Jimin. It’s just… I feel like I’m always trying to do these little things for him, and he never seems to really care. Like, maybe I’m being too much, you know? Maybe I should just stop and it'll stop him being so cold?" Jimin frowns at you, no one here would ever think you were being too much.
"You’re not too much. You’re just being yourself, and that’s a good thing. Yoongi’s just… well, he’s not always great at showing how he feels..." You looked at him and smiled weakly at him, you knew he was trying to be nice to you while defending Yoongi at the same time.
"I know. I just… maybe I need to back off a little. Give him space." Jimin watches you for a moment before reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, he knew that there was nothing he could say to you right now that could change your mind so he nodded at you.
"Just do what feels right for you. But don’t lose that part of yourself that’s so caring. That’s what makes you, you."
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Back in the studio, the members are still lounging around waiting for you to get back, all of them doing their own thing. But it was Yoongi who glanced toward the door noticing you hadn't come back yet and it worried him a little, not that he'd ever voice it to anyone though.
"Man, you’re always so cold, hyung. Can’t you be nice for once?" Jungkook teased Yoongi who quickly snapped out of his worried state and turned back to Jungkook with a smirk as he shrugged. It wasn't as if you ever took any of it to heart, you knew how cold he was with everyone and you knew he was joking...Right?
"Nice isn’t really my thing." He answered keeping up his cold/bad-boy persona making Jungkook rin and shake his head. Meanwhile, Taehyung moved closer to Yoongi and nudged him softly. He'd noticed the looks of doubt spreading over your face and he knew exactly what you were going through.
"You should be careful, hyung. One of these days, someone’s going to take your cold act to heart." Taehyung tried to tell him it was you who was hurt in a non-confrontational way but it was as if the hint went right over Yoongi's head as he rolled his eyes. But his smile faded a little as Taehyung’s words linger in his head and he bit down on his lip. Had they bothered you? He moves a little and stares back over at the door. Is that why you haven't come back yet? The door handle jiggled a little before it opened to reveal Jimin, alone.
"Yn's gone home for the night. Said something about having a headache." He shrugged before joining the rest of the guys but Yoongi couldn't help but stare at the door, waiting for you to come in again.
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The days went by and while you were still around in the studio and with the boys there was something off about you. Something that didn't feel right. Whenever you bought Yoongi his morning Coffee you'd usually sit with him and talk his ear off, something he told you he hated but something he rather looked forward to in the mornings. It had become a part of his routine but you'd stopped, claiming you had stuff to do.
The same thing happened when he asked you for some help in the studio, you'd told him you'd be there but there was no playful banter between you. Your voice even lacked the enthusiasm he'd loved about it and you were withdrawn from him, no longer coming to watch him write or even practice.
As usual, Yoongi was in the studio alone, working on a song that he was supposed to be keeping his focus on but his mind kept getting distracted as he replayed the interactions with you from over the past few days. He glances at his phone expecting to see something from you but there is nothing but a blank screen.
His hand hovered over the screen as he debated calling you, asking you to come and join him just so he could hear you ramble about your day but before he could the door opened. His heart launched into his throat as he turned around expecting to see you standing there but it was Taehyung,
"Yoongi-hyung! Working hard as always, huh?" He smirked cheerfully but Yoongi just threw him a half-hearted smile and leaned back in his chair.
"Hey, Tae… can I ask you something?" Yoongi's serious tone only worried Taehyung who nodded at him, leaning forward a little.
"Of course. What’s up?"
"Have you noticed anything… different with YN lately?" Taehyung thought for a little while nodding his head, you hadn't been around as much and you'd stopped spending all your free time with them.
"Yeah… she’s been quieter. She’s not her usual self around you, at least. Why? Did something happen?" Yoongi let out a sigh before running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at himself. He didn't even know where all of this had gone wrong but he knew it was his fault.
"I don’t know. She just… I don’t know. She’s not hanging around as much. No teasing, no small talk. Even her smiles seem… off." Taehyung looked at Yoongi, he hadn't realised he paid so much attention to your smile and the whole thing made Taehyung smirk a little but he did his best to hide it.
"Well, maybe you should ask her about it? YN’s sensitive. Maybe something’s bothering her, and she doesn’t know how to talk to you about it." Yoongi's frown deepened, his mind racing as he considered it, usually, you told him anything and everything that came into your mind. He ran over everything that had happened in the last few days and he thought back to when you got him that notebook, the one staring up at him blankly from his desk as he tried to write in it. He'd rejected the advancement from it but it was his favourite thing right now.
"You think… I did something?" His voice came out shakey as he turned to look at Taehyung who simply shrugged a little.
"Maybe. But the only way to find out is to ask her."
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It had been a few more days and your behavior continued to shift and twist. You still interacted with the group, but there was a noticeable distance between you and Yoongi, something all of them had even picked up on and were worrying about. It wasn't like you to be so cold and closed off with anyone, let alone Yoongi.
One afternoon, Yoongi walked into the kitchen where you and Jungkook were joking around with each other, it was the first time in days that Yoongi had seen your smile and he was going to do everything he could to watch it for a few seconds. But that green-eyed monster was on his shoulder as he watched from the doorway, a tightness in his chest as he saw you laughing freely with Jungkook—something you hadn’t done with him in days.
"Wow, YN, you’re actually in a good mood today!" Jungkook teased as you laughed softly, shaking your head. You were always in a good mood whenever you weren't around Yoongi but you weren't about to tell his best friend and band member that.
"Shut up, Jungkook. I’m always in a good mood." Taking this chance Yoongi stepped into the kitchen, clearing his throat to get your attention. Jungkook glances over and grins, but your smile fades ever so slightly as you notice Yoongi approaching you both.
"Hey, YN. Got time to talk?" He smiled warmly at you but you looked down at your cup, avoiding his gaze.
"Uh… sure. What’s up?" Jungkook exchanged a glance with Yoongi who nodded for him to leave and he smiled a little, rubbing your shoulder as he got up,
"I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t kill each other." He teased before rushing out, not giving you a chance to stop him from leaving you there with Yoongi.
Once the two of you were alone it was as if the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious to anybody that something was going on between the two of you and yet neither of you spoke a word about it.
"Yn...Please, talk to me." He whispered, not caring if he sounded as though he was begging or not, he wanted his friend back.
"Is something going on? You’ve been… distant lately." Choosing to shrug it off you shook your head at him and smiled doing your best to fake it with him.
"I’ve just been busy, that’s all." Yoongi scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes. There was no way he was going to believe some shitty excuse about being busy when usually he was the one keeping you busy.
"Come on, YN. We both know it’s more than that. You’re not acting like yourself… at least, not around me." His voice trailed a little at the end as he remembered you laughing freely with Jungkook, the jealousy creeping back in once again.
"I don’t know, Yoongi… maybe I’ve just been overthinking things." You mumbled a little and shrugged your shoulders. This wasn't exactly how you planned on telling him how you felt lately but it was going to come out nether-the-less.
"Overthinking what?" You hesitate a little, struggling to find the right words to tell him how you were feeling, how he'd been making you feel as of late. Biting down on your lip, you finally looked up at him
"I just… I started to feel like maybe I was being too much. Like all the little things I do—bringing you coffee, giving you gifts, trying to be close—it just seemed like you didn’t really… want it." You looked down at your hands and then rolled your eyes trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him.
"I didn’t want to keep pushing you if it was annoying you." You finished and Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as realization dawns on him. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it, guilt washing over him. He'd been playfully pushing you away thinking you saw it as playful as well,
"I didn’t know…"
"It’s fine. I’m just trying to give you space." Yoongi’s heart tightened. Space? He didn't want space! he didn't want space from you, he wanted you close and he wanted you to be there with him all of the time like you used to be.
Reaching out he touched your hand softly and shook his head, your eyes met from across the table and your heart raced a little as you saw just how guilty he was.
"YN… I never wanted you to feel like that. I thought I was just teasing you, like I do with the others, but… I never meant to make you feel like you had to pull away."
"It’s just… hard to tell sometimes." You whispered and Yoongi watched you for a moment, guilt and frustration warring within him.
"I’ve been stupid. I know I’m not great at showing how I feel, but… I miss it. All of it. The coffee, the jokes, the… you. I didn’t realize how much I depended on it until you started pulling away." You look up at him, your heart practically working overtime now but he smiles at you, continuing with what he was saying.
"You’re not “too much,” YN. If anything, I didn’t appreciate it enough. I don’t want space from you… I never want space from you again...I just didn’t know how to show you that I care. But I do. A lot. Please come back," Your expression softened at his words as you realised how much you meant to him, the tension in your shoulders eased a little as you relaxed around him.
"I didn’t know that’s how you felt." You whispered as he smiled shyly at you, a small blush creeping its way onto his cheeks. It wasn't like him to be so vulnerable around someone but he was doing it with you, for you. He wanted you to see how deeply he cared about you.
"Well, I’m telling you now. I’m not great with words, but I’m trying here."
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It had been a few weeks since the incident and you and Yoongi were back to full working order. You bought him his coffee and sat together during the day. You 'annoyed' him in all of the ways that he loved you to do and you were inseparable again.
The two of you were on the rooftop garden of the building, looking out over the city, your head was leaning on his shoulder as you did your best to wake up a little more. The coffee you'd gotten hadn't rushed into your system yet but Yoongi had insisted on coming to watch the sun.
The sun was just starting to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the buildings and it was incredibly peaceful, something Yoongi did whenever he wanted time to think.
"It’s beautiful up here." You stated between a yawn and Yoongi smiled to himself and nodded.
"Yeah. It’s one of my favourite places to think."
"You're thinking right now, I can practically smell the burning." You teased making Yoongi laugh softly but it wasn't a full laugh. Lifting your head from his shoulder you were prepared to ask him what was wrong but he was already looking at you.
"Yn..." He whispered a little and watched you,
"I’ve been thinking… about what you said before. About how you felt like you were being too much." Your heart was in your throat, was he about to take all of it back? Were you too much? Had you gotten worse?
"Yeah?" your voice shook a little and Yoongi could sense your overthinking, he took your hand in his and squeezed softly bringing your mind back to him in the present.
"I just want you to know… you’re never too much for me. I actually… I like that you care so much." You nodded at him, he'd already told you this the other day,
"Yoongi-"
"Listen," He chuckled softly as he cut you off, your heart skipping a beat as you felt your face warm as he touched your cheek softly,
"It’s not something I’m used to, but… I need it. I need you." He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as he locked his eyes with yours.
"Yoongi…"
"I might not be the best at showing it, but I don’t want to lose what we have. I… I care about you a lot, YN. More than I’ve let on. And I don’t want you to second-guess that anymore." Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process his words. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s letting down his walls just for you...Only you.
"I care about you too, Yoongi. A lot." Your voice shook a little and he looked at you, leaning in closer to you. So close you could feel his breath on your lips.
"So… no more backing off, okay?" He whispered to you, your head nodding before you could get the words out to answer him.
"Okay. No more backing off." You promised him and he smiled at you. Running his thumb along your bottom lip once again before he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s soft at first, tentative as if you're both savouring the moment, but it quickly deepens into something more passionate. Yoongi pulled you closer to him, bringing you onto his lap as he smiled against your lips in the kiss.
This was everything he'd been wanting, and more, fireworks exploding around him as you pushed your hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as you let his tongue into your mouth
When the two of you finally pulled back for air, Yoongi kept his forehead resting against yours, his hand still gently cupping your cheek as you let out a small and nervous giggle at him. That was one of the best kisses you'd ever experienced in your life and you couldn't get your heart to stop trying to escape and run into his waiting hands.
"That wasn’t too annoying, right?" Yoongi asked with a giant smirk on his face. Laughing a little you looked at him, your eyes sparkling a little.
"Not at all. In fact, I might need more of that." You giggled as he leaned closer to you
"I think that can be arranged." He whispered before kissing you once again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to rest on his lap.
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ilycosy · 9 months ago
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❝ YOU FREE 2NIGHT ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN
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pairing : luke castellan x reader
summary — it's a cold february morning, nothing special to you, really. but there's that sickening air around camp that has everyone in a trance, you'll escape it this year again of course. or will you?
warnings : reader is a hater , luke is a helpless romantic loser , they're both awkward teenagers but it's so cute , percabeth !!!
aノn — a valentines day fic !! 🤍 i hope u guys enjoy <33 i rlly like writing luke as a loser but i think u guys alr know that sjshak
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you woke to hushed giggles in the cabin, an aphrodite boy perched up on one of your half brothers. basically eating each other's faces before anyone wakes up to see them, you roll your eyes.
listen, you weren't entirely against romance. just all the bits where you have to share yourself with your 'special person', especially in public. pda was your own personal tartarus, you were sure of it.
which is why it was shocking to receive a stupid note during breakfast from luke asking if you're free tonight, misspelled might you add. and even though you found it stupid, you couldn't help but wonder why he would even bother with you.
you— the person who once told him that he had the face of a sloth, the person who shoved him into the lake just because you could, the person who told him to 'get over' hermes when he came to camp. really, you couldn't think of any reason he'd ever like you.
but with how he smiled eagerly when you opened the note, and how he waved and did a thumbs up when you read it. you ditched the unsure thoughts of him just lying to you. you weren't free anymore.
you circled the no answer box, slipping the note back to him when your cabin was called for the offerings. trying not to look at him when he got cheesy and had percy come over to tell you to meet luke at a spot.
"luke said he wants you to meet him at," percy looks down at his hand, like he's reading from a fake script. "the place you poured juice onto his head? he's speaking in riddles to me, man."
you almost smiled at percy's sarcastic tone, but instead, you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your food. "tell him ill be there at 7." you say, turning your full attention to your food after.
you think you hear percy say, 'aye aye captain.' but you can't really be sure. you're too busy wondering how you're going to keep your food down with how your stomachs churning just thinking about what will happen.
well, turns out— 7 will come a lot sooner when you're stressing about what will happen at that time, the movies lied to you!
you sit anxiously at a clearing in the forest, looking around as you remember how you had dumped apple juice onto lukes head when you both were 15. you claimed it was to cool him down, but really, it was because he had called you pretty.
twigs snap behind you, and when you snap your head around, you're greeted with cupcakes?
"hey," luke greets, calmly sitting next to you like this was a casual hangout. "you hungry?" he asks, but he's a little nervous. his voice strained and his face a little red as he holds out sloppy cupcakes, clearly done by him and younger campers.
the cupcakes are messy, but they smell delicious. you almost grab one before reading what is spelt out on them, 'kiss me?'
you can't help but laugh, giggling to yourself as you hover over the k cupcake. "man i knew it was silly," he groans, setting the platter in his lap as he looks away embarrassedly. "i knew you hated pda, so i did it away from others but i shouldn't have listened to annabeth with the cupcakes it's just she said percy did it and she loved it and–"
you pressed a finger to his lips, picking up the cupcake you wanted. taking a slow bite as you savor it, thinking about his rant while he stares at you with wide eyes. you ignore how you swear both your hearts are beating in sync.
"it's sweet," you say, not knowing if you're talking about the cupcake or his confession. "it's not silly." it comes out before you can even think about what you're saying, you're talking about the confession?
it shocks both of you clearly. "you're sure?" he asks hesitantly, drumming his fingers on the platter. "i had help from demeter kids with the cooking, so i hope it's good, but are you sure that it's not stupid you don't have to call it sweet i get—"
you press your lips to his hesitantly, unsure of what you're doing, but honestly, he needed to shut up. he sits stiffly with the cupcakes on him, his hands coming up to pull you closer. you both awkwardly avoid dropping any while you kiss, teeth clashing together a few times.
when you both pull away you can't help but laugh, his dazed and blushing face so close to yours that he can smell the sugar and dinner on your breath. he starts laughing too, leaning his forehead on yours.
"im not free tonight," you whisper, watching as he looks at you confusedly. the angle is a little silly to look at him from, but for some reason your heart beats harder in your ears. "i think im taken."
his confused face splits into a stupid grin, pressing another kiss against your mouth before he lifts up the question mark cupcake. "by me?" he asks, cheesily but you can't imagine it being any other way.
"yes," you roll your eyes but your voice is soft, and he thinks his heart will explode in his chest. "by you."
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kombuuuu · 1 year ago
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hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first���?
For the Soul (and the Heart)
Miles!42 x Fem!Reader
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
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AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE
Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection
please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!
The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.
Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.
Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.
Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.
Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”
There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.
The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.
The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.
The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.
“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.
“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”
You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”
Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”
You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.
“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”
She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”
“Thank you.”
She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.
“Thank you, again.”
“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.
“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”
"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."
Miles glanced up in confusion.
“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”
“Why me?”
“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”
“She’s pretty, and around your age.”
“Ma, porfavor.”
“Ma, please.”
“Go.”
“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.
You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.
There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.
The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.
People feared him, the violence he brought with him.
You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?
If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?
The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.
“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”
“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”
“Sí mamá, ya sé.”
“Yeah mama, I know.”
The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.
The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.
“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”
“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.
“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.
“I’m Miles, by the way.”
“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”
His lips upturned again at the compliment.
You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.
“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”
You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”
He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.
Like claws.
Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.
Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.
The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.
And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.
Miles was about the same, probably worse.
You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.
So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.
“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.
You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.
Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.
You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.
“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”
He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.
“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”
Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.
You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.
“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.
His voice had gone deeper, smoother.
“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.
He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.
The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.
“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.
“Of course, Mami.”
“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”
You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.
“Mm, it is.”
“And you’re here.”
He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.
He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.
“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”
“You too, Miles.”
“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”
He hummed.
“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.
Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.
How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.
Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.
Every little thing.
He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.
He knew you felt the same.
Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.
And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.
He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.
You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.
Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.
Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.
It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:
Can you come over later?
He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.
And you did, swiftly replying;
okayyyy !!
I’ll pick you up at 7.
six…?
7, [Name].
>:(
Don’t be childish.
i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:
You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.
Your phone pinged again.
See you at six.
You smiled.
You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.
He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.
“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”
“Don’t apologise, Miles.”
You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.
“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”
You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.
You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.
You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“You good, Chiquita?”
“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”
“Mmhm.”
You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.
“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”
He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.
“Maybe ask politely.”
You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.
“Miles.”
“[Name].”
“Oh my god.”
“It’s just a ‘please’.”
“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”
“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.
You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.
You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.
He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.
Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.
“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”
“Mm, thought you’d like it.”
“I do, so much.”
You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.
The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.
“My dad.”
Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.
“I’m sorry.”
“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”
He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.
Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.
He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.
There was no escaping his death.
So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.
He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.
“Come sit, vida mía.”
You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.
A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.
There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.
You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.
“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.
“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”
You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.
“Wh—.”
It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.
“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”
“It would.”
He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”
“Mm, we could—,”
He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.
“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”
“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.
“I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”
He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.
“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”
“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”
“Uhuh.”
“Miles!”
“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”
“Oh my goodness!”
And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.
Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.
But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.
It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.
YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️
thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife
(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)
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sukunas-wife · 10 months ago
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First, I adore your writing! It warms my soul 🫶🏽♥️
Second, I was wondering if you could do Sukuna x Reader w/ little Yuji asking his dad to help him make a gift for Y/N for Mother’s Day. I think it would be such a cute bonding time between them 💝
Please and thank you if you choose this 🤍
Tysm 🥹 it keeps me warm at night, So does my Sukuna plushie when I don’t knock him off the bed by accident 😭 but Yes! 🥺 I know Valentines isn’t close or far but 😫 The things I’d do for him and Yuji (as a son) on Valentine’s Day 😭😭 I wanna spoil both of them with love🥹 and maybe give Sukuna another kid 🤭
But I hope you like it Little Anon 🤍
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“DDAAADDDD” Yuji came running into the living room crying running with a pair of plastic scissors almost impaling his dad. “What is brat?” Sukuna didn’t look too interested, laid back on the sofa, arms behind his head, eyes closed.
“My scissors won’t cut!” He made snipping motions on the paper he was using and sukuna barely opened an eye to watch. Yuji’s already teary eyes watered up as she trembled and sniffled. Sukuna closed his eyes, “Then fold it and tear it, you don’t need scissors to cut paper.”
There Yuji stood, laying the paper on his dads stomach. Sukuna opened his eyes watching how he was crinkling it while he tried to fold it. Failing and failing until he got it right, and tearing it apart slowly, “I did it!” Sukuna had a small smile, bringing a hand to ruffled Yuji’s hair “After half an hour.” Yuji pouted, “I gotta go!” He ran to his room again and sukuna was left with his hand flopping down dragging on the floor. “Hey!” He yelled after Yuji, Yuji popped his head out the door, “yeah?” “STOP RUNNING WITH THOSE DAMN SCISSORS!” “….Okay daddy!”
Sukuna closed his eyes leaning back, he could hear the tearing of paper before he started to nap. Then there was a really loud tear and he choked hearing Yuji’s small voice “damn it!”
“Pssst… psss… pss daddy.” He tried to swat away whatever was touching his face “ddadddyyyy are you awake?….. daddy?”
“What is it now Yuji?” Sukuna didn’t open his eyes. “I needa go…” “Yu.. you have the short toilet you can go if you need to..” “noooo daddy I need to go to the store!” Sukuna sat him with a huff, “alright let’s go. Go get dressed- are we taking the bike?” Yuji's eyes had stars while he looked up at his dad. “Yeah, we’re taking the bike cmon, get ready.” Yuji ran off to his room where Sukuna heard all the sounds of Yuji ripping open the clothes drawers. Grabbing his own jacket he got ready to go out into the cold.
—————-
“Alright what are we looking for…” Sukuna received silence, “Yuji?” He snapped around and there was no Yuji. “Ah shit.”
There went Sukuna trying to speed walk around trying to find his son who he literally brought into the store a minute ago. Finally he found him, in the seasonal section stretching on his tippy toes to get a white tiger plushie that held a white and silver box with a costume glass pearl necklace and earrings. “…what are you doing…?” “Wan it for mommy.” He gave up looking down and pointing at the plushie. Sukuna sighed, “Why do you want it for mom brat it’s not her birthday.” “Because it’s white day daddy! I have to get something for mommy!” He threw his hands up like it was the most obvious thing, unbeknownst to him the entire world was coming crashing down on his dad at that moment.
“I..it’s what?” “White day Daddy! Now hurry, I need that bear!” He went back to jumping and trying to grab it before Sukuna grabbed it shoving it under his arm, and picking up Yuji stuffing him under his other arm, “We gotta hurry-“ Yuji bounced around under Sukuna’s arm while he ande his way to the register, “wait!” Sukuna came to a stop “what?!” “Can I get candy?” Yuji pointed at the candy aisle and Sukuna turned his side to the aisle so Yuji could get what he wanted, “okay… WAIT NO” he grabbed a second candy, “I’m ready.” Sukuna let out heh noise before rushing back to the register, “I gotta pick something up at the shops so we gotta be fast hold on.”
————-
Yuji was standing on a chair at the kitchen table looking at the white Box his dad picked up. “What’s inside?” Sukuna who was focusing on spilling the glitter Yuji wanted on his card was holding his breath to not blow everywhere. Finally he sat up taking a breath, “a gift for your mom, cmon, you wanted to put your hand on this card right?”
“Mhmm!” Yuji hummed running around the table to his dads side barely peeking over the edge, “got the paint?” … “mm…no, gotta find it” Yuji trailed after his dad on the way to his room where they started looking in the closet, in the toy box, under the bed. “Where’s y/n put everything???” Sukuna was knelt face pressed against the floor flashing under Yuji’s bed with his phone’s flash light.
“Oh oh! Top shelf! Mommy doesn’t let me touch the top shelf.” He watched his push a chair over the book shelf and jump in the chair grabbing a thin box, “I touch it anyways.” He smiled proudly and Sukuna just smirked “Oh you little devil mommy would be so disappointed to know her precious little boy plays with the paint when she’s not home.”
Yuji threw the box up, “Please don’t tell mommy! I’ll never do it again!” Sukuna laughed when Yuji started to tear up, “Don’t worry, as long as you don’t tell mommy we ran that red light earlier, grab em and let’s go.” Yuji nodded like he was on a mission, “Kay.”
——
“Daddy you put your hand on first,” Sukuna sighed but pressed his hand into the Paper Yuji worked so hard to cut earlier. “Now let me see your hand Yu, gonna ink you up.”
Yuji laughed uncontrollably at the feeling of the brush on his fingers and palm which lead to Sukuna tickling him. Yuji was laughing until he turned red and started wheezing. Sukuna tried to brush Yuji’s hair back until he smudged him with paint. He cleared his throat to not laugh at Yuji, when he finally sat up catching his breath.. “My hands dry.”
Sukuna snickered, “alright, do it this time.” He carefully painted Yuji’s hand, guiding him to make the print right in the middle of Sukuna’s hand print. “Done!”
He turned to his dad in his lap and placed his hands on his cheeks squishing his face, “Thank you daddy, i love you.” Yuji was smiling, Sukuna smiled and nuzzled his nose against Yuji’s before pressing his lips to the top of his head making a dramatic muah sound making Yuji go “eewww” while laughing. Sukuna laughed while Yuji stared at his face, “I wanna look like daddy.” Which led to the two spending the next hour painting Yuji’s face to have the same inked lines his daddy did. 🥹
———
When you came home you found Sukuna and Yuji in the kitchen. Sukuna was telling Yuji about his “top secret” frying technique and Yuji was standing on a chair looking at the stove watching every move not wanting to miss anything. “mhm mhm” he had no idea what was going on while his dad was talking. You took their picture before Yuji finally turned around “Mommy!” He got so happy slowly sliding off the seat to run over to you, “Happy White day! We got you something!”
“Aww baby you didn’t have too.” Picking him up and kissing him all over he squealed in delight. Setting him down you walked over to Sukuna, he turned to kiss you when he felt you moving in to kiss his cheek. He had that smug smile when you smiled wrinkling your nose at him.
“Look, we made the bag too.” You watched Yuji’s little chubby legs and hands pop around the bag his face hidden behind the wrinkled tissue paper, “Aww its so pretty.” You took the bag from him, it was a white party bag in Yuji’s hand writing with gold marker “we lov you momy.” Covering your smile with your hand you looked at Yuji, “Did it all by myself.” Sukuna tsked “Sure ya did brat, went to the store too and used your whole five dollars too, hm?”
Yuji stuck his tongue out at his dad, “You didn’t give em back so I did pay!” You shook your head smiling when you opened the box, pulling out a white paper card, Sukuna moved closer resting his chin on your shoulder and Yuji pushed up a chair. The was Yuji’s handwriting “We lov you momy” and a wobbly drawn heart. Under it he wrote his name and Sukuna signed his name with a little note “I Love you more ;).” When you opened it it was so cute that you knew Yuji had to have forced Sukuna to do it. Sukuna’s hands were painted red in the shape of a heart, inside were yuji little hands painted white to make a smaller heart.
There was the note in Sukuna’s Handwriting, “These are my hands and with them I will take yours to have and to hold, to love and cherish till death do us part.”
Then there was Yuji’s cute little note, “I know you wipe some away, but these prints were made to stay, So keep them forever, a treasure they'll be, A special I LOVE YOU for you from me.”
The rest of the card was decorated in gold and silver glitters dots and squiggles. Little hand drawn hearts from Sukuna and Yuji. Most of the glitter ended up on the white tiger plushie Yuji ended up taking to sleep with that night 🥹😭
Later that night when Ryo and You were in the room getting ready to sleep when he spoke up. “Sorry we didn’t take you out anywhere fancy. Kinda lost track of time with everything going on…” he paused and you just turned to look at him, “It’s not an excuse but I did get you this.”
You walked over standing between his legs taking the white box from him. He hugged your waist pressing his face against your tummy, you rested your elbows on his shoulders and he heard your small laugh. “I think this was more for you then it was for me.”
You dropped the box next to him holding up the lingerie set. It was white satin with gold hip and shoulder straps covered in crystals. The back of the panties had been customised to say “Ryomen”, all topped off with one of those dramatic lacey robes with even more dramatic feathery cuffs and edges.
He smiled up at you from your tummy with lidded eyes, “maybe…” he kissed your tummy before squeezing your sides. You out a hand on his head brushing his hair back, he had that smug smile that gave you Yuji a few years ago, “So what do you say we really make this a white day?”
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Tag: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare
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im-sleepdeprived · 3 months ago
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Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️
this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!
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“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.
Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”
You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special. 
He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing. 
You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available  (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store). 
“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.
“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was. 
“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.
Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”
“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him. 
“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”
You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.
“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.
“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered. 
“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed. 
“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”
“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you. 
“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.
“Me and who?” Peter asked. 
“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”
Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”
“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”
Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.
“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”
He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”
“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”
Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger. 
He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly. 
“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.
“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed. 
Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped. 
“Peter!” You yelled. 
“Me or him?”
You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit. 
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synthetickitsune · 5 months ago
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Hi!! I love your work sm and I was wondering if u could write a minghao drabble with the prompt “you don’t count- I love u” thank u 🤍🤍
The8 (SVT) | "You don't count - I love you" fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: thank you for requesting! also inspired by @hanniedream's froggy ring post and bibi being a menace feeding into all of my delusions
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“Absolutely not.”
You pout at him, whine his name, whisper into his ear how cute it would be to have a matching jewelry - a silly piece, the exact opposite of the classy necklaces and rings and bracelets you already had plenty of. But nothing gets Minghao to change his mind, and so the little froggy faces can only watch as you leave the store without them.
You sulk about it only a little. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Your relationship matters, and it’s loving and wonderful, and Minghao is the best partner you could wish for. What would be the point in wearing a matching ring if you knew he hated it? He always makes sure you don’t lack anything you want or need, silly or serious. You let it go and truth be told, the entire thing slips your mind.
Until today.
Until today’s afternoon, to be exact, today’s very ordinary afternoon when your boyfriend suddenly told you to close your eyes before putting a little box in your palms.
“Open it,” he smiles at you as he sits down next to you.
You feel a lump in your throat. There are two rings staring at you. Matching rings. One with a little black frog, its limbs spread as if it was swimming, and the other with little lily pads and a white blossom. Minghao must’ve had them made, you don’t think he could find rings like this in a shop somewhere. 
“Do you like them?” he asks with a small smile. His hand slowly rubs circles on the small of your back. You look at him in disbelief.
“Why Hao?” you take a shaky breath. He frowns, sitting closer to you and putting his other hand over your knee. 
“What do you mean why?” his brows are knitted together, “Do you not like them?”
“No, I do - I love them,” you sigh, “But you hate things like this.”
You look at them again. The sizes make it pretty clear which ring is his and which is yours. He’ll look even more like he came out of a fairytale with the tiny blossom adoring his finger. You truly love them. You love the cute little frog. And you appreciate the gesture, but…
“I wouldn’t get them if I hated the idea - or if I didn’t like these rings themselves,” he assures you patiently.
“But you hated the silly frog rings I showed you,” you argue back, making Minghao smile and pinch your cheek.
“And I didn’t get those, did I?” he watches you laugh and loosens up a little himself.
“These are still silly,” you shake your head, “More… tasteful and elegant, but silly.”
“I’m good at compromising with you,” he grins. His thumb strokes your knee absentmindedly. It’s good to see you relax again, good to see the tender look in your eyes as you study the rings.
He looks at the box resting in your hands and carefully takes it from you. He slides the frog adorned ring on your finger before handing the now half-empty box back to you. Suddenly he feels shy when you take his hand in yours. You stroke your thumb over the ring once it sits on his finger, tapping the little flower. 
“You know you can tell me if you don’t like them or if I hurt you before and you no longer want silly matching rings. I won’t be upset,” not at you anyway - but he doesn’t say that.
“I’m really happy, Hao,” you lean in for a kiss that he’s more than happy to give you, “I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t like.”
“I’m not,” he threatens the doubts in your mind with a slight pout on his lips.
“You always shut everyone down with things like this though,” you don’t give up, stubborn as he is.
“Well,” he smirks mischievously and leans closer again to steal another kiss, “You don’t count - I love you.”
“That’s so corny,” you scrunch up your nose, pushing at Minghao’s chest without any force. It’s only natural that with every push comes a pull, so you don’t struggle when he pulls you into his side.
“But I won’t wear mine all the time, just so we’re clear,” he says softly yet firmly enough to let you know it’s not up for debate. Still he looks at the ring with a smile.
“I guessed you don’t have that many fits to match it,” you tease, “But I’ll wear mine all the time just so you know.”
“I’ll wear it when I’m not running around schedules. And when I’m with you. We shouldn’t leave the frog without its home for too long, hm?” he laces your fingers together. You gasp when you see it - like this it indeed looks like the frog is swimming towards the lily pads. You can’t help but laugh and snuggle closer to him.
You guess it is a little like that - Mingao is your home.
And you’re Minghao’s whole life, giving his existence a purpose. Even if that might be too much for a little frog to convey.
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