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#but its a start. and they have so much more room to grow and understand each other better
j4ygyu · 1 day
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🫐 - jake! maybe about reader having some hardships during her pregnancy but baby daddy jake would be ready to do anything for her comfort !!
rejecting his kisses | sjy
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pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader
genre: fluff bro what else i write 😭😭
synopsis: reader is growing sensitive day by day to touches and snaps at jake, jake being a mature husband handles the situation well.
everything felt so much more overwhelming, jake kept a family dinner and everyone was over, his members and his family. 
“how are my babies doing?” jake said as he nuzzled his nose in your neck as you moved back in annoyance. 
oh he noticed it but shrugged it off, maybe it was just a silly reaction right?
the sound of everyone talking at the same time in their own conversation rings around in your ears making it hard for you to keep up with everything jake had his hands on you the whole day, hugging you from behind, talking to his friends and family with a hand on your bump, rubbing your nose agaisnt his, kissing your cheeks, lips and forehead. yeah sounds cute but not when you’re feeling everything a little too much. 
what is going on. 
it was so bad that you had to shut your room door so loud and settle on the bed, 
there you were, pregnant and finally on your thrid trimester with your annoying husband being extra touchy anywhere he could find you at.
rubbing your temples you sat on the bed, grabbed the water from the beside table and starting chugging it down. 
meanwhile, jake who already spotted your absensce in the living room came in “bub?” you heard his voice and your brain gave a reaction not again. 
he walks in as you don’t even dare to look at him in the eye, your eyes closed as you take deep breath. 
“did i do something” he leans over to your face while staring deep “no..” u say as he hums in question he sits beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “are you oka-“ you cut him off,
“no- just no- please okay? please just get your hands off of me please jake. stay away from me i am not feeling all your touches just leave me the fuck alone.” you say raising your voice. 
the next thing you see is tears in jake’s eyes as he looks away from you trying to hold them in. 
“i am sorry.” 
a moment of complete silence goes by as you rest your head on the headboard.
you notice him avoiding your looks and turning to the other side, hesitant to ask you if you need anything again.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks out of curiosity “i won’t touch you if—“
“no i dont know.. i am sorry i dont feel like getting touched i dont know.. i don’t know why i am being like this i don’t know” as you’re saying he turns around and comes closer to you.
attentively listening as he brings a hand to tug your hair strand back.
“hey no no it’s fine, its completely fine yeah, this is super normal for pregnant women to feel..” he says as tears start spilling from your eyes because of how understanding he is. 
jake has always put your perspective before his, always understanding everything you did, always finding a reason for your actions and letting you express yourself, god you think what did you do to deserve him. 
“b-but jake” you say as he holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks trying to calm you down.
“at this stage you’ve grown more sensitive. to touches to words to noises to everything” he says bringing his hands back to himself, “isn’t it?” 
you nod in agreement as he adds “so don’t ever blame yourself about all this okay? i love you just how it is. nothing will ever change that” 
you look at him and take his hand and place it on your belly, he makes sure to keep it exactly where you kept and not rub it because of muscle memory 
he pauses and lets out a little laugh as he feels the baby kicking where his arm is placed “just try not to be as aggressive as you were okay?” you nod once again as he kisses your cheeks wiping your tears off his lips. 
“baby doesn’t like hearing mum and dad argue does it?” he says as he feels another kick to his palm as you both laugh out of surprise. 
it makes you giggle, mood swings are crazy.
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neet-elite · 2 days
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↳ EVENT 05. Sebastian (Yandere)
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Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,241 Warnings: yandere, blood play, knife play, pet name (bunny), implied self harm (not depicted!!!), blood drinking, dacryphilia Prompt(s): 18 — yandere Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: the bread and butter sebastian... tbh i think the yandere trope fits him so well. loner in the mountains? always fun to write sebastian being a bastard tysm for sending this prompt in !! mwah!!
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All you had to do was follow some simple instructions. They're not even that hard to follow, made intentionally dumb for his pretty baby to understand. And only thee of them too! Isn't he kind? He doesn't expect much from you, because you're already perfect in his heart eyes. Three rules, that's all. Just keep quiet. Stay put. Don't try and open the door. And deep down, Sebastian knows that you're good. Such a good girl, aren't you? The idea that you'd be intentionally trying to disobey and attempting to leave him isn't even worth entertaining— because there's a much more understandable reason behind your mistrust, isn't there?
Plainly put, he imagines that you're trying to provoke him only to see if he's being serious about his love for you. Metaphorically poking the bear just to feel the sharp sting of its teeth on your neck, a sure reminder of his affections for you. And in that respect, he can understand why the locked basement door handle was jiggling around in spite of his clear cut rules, frantic in how even the wood shook against itself. In your quest for seeking his attention, you've in turn reminded him to buy more locks. See, you really are such a good girl, aren't you?
Walking down each step one at a time, he listens to the way the door slowly starts to stop squeaking. Every step down the sound of the handle grows quieter, softer, as if his presence alone was enough to whip you back into shape. Which is preferable, in all honesty. And so he finds himself smiling from ear to ear in pride as he gets to the door, pressing the side of his face to it to listen to you scurry around, waiting until you've eventually settled on some place to sit before digging the room key out of his back pocket to unlock the door.
"Bunny?" He affectionately calls out to you once he enters, quickly scanning the room before easily finding your fearful gaze. And oh how you wear fear well, how those big wide eyes look like pleading to him, especially as he takes a few steps forward only to close the door behind him, turning his back to you briefly to lock it again. Something he hates doing, y'know? Taking his eyes off of you for even a second— if he had it his way, you'd be glued to his hip. But he understands how impractical that would be, and so settles for captivity. "Did you need something?" He questions, tone sickeningly sweet in how fake he's being right now.
One step forward, and he watches as you cower from him on the bed. Another few steps forward, and he's privy to the sight of you huddling under his bed sheets, panic stricken expression going straight to his perverted cock from how cute you look when trying to hide from him. And then; how he hears you audibly gasp when he next speaks. Are you a little scared, bunny? It's okay, he won't be as savage as the bear. Because despite needing to punish you for misbehaving, he's doing so under the impression that you're asking for it. Going against his rather easy to follow rules in hopes of having him enact penalisation.
"Because, I seem to remember telling you not to leave this room, right?" He smiles when he reaches the edge of the bed, taking the opportunity to sit beside you as you remain stuck in place. Frozen in fear, which his cock likes very much so. Burning with greed right in the pit of his stomach, how it rises to tighten around his lungs when all you do is stare back at him. Cute, he thinks. So fucking cute when you're so scared, his fingers straining with want to pet your pretty little head.
For he's not stupid. He can read between the lines, see through your little victim act. Because he only ever wants what's best for you, remember? Which is why there are rules in the first place— it's all just to help you be as happy and as comfortable as possible, meaning he has to always keep an eye on you. Ah, just you wait till he tells you about the hidden camera surrounding his room, too! Allowing him to watch your every move even when he has to unfortunately leave the house, or even just to the kitchen. You need protection, and given your stunt over trying to knock the locked door down, he's convinced that you're just testing his limits. Wanting him to prove to you that he'll be at your beck and call— from anywhere. Even from within your own new four walls. Home.
A tut soon escapes him, but it's half hearted at best. It's difficult to be upset at your lack of verbal communication when you look so sweet when silent, and he considers himself an expert at understanding you regardless of whether you talk or not. Your silence, in his mind, is proof of such fact, and he takes a moment to consider your wants and needs. Head cocked to the side in thought, not attempting to get any closer to you in favour of simply thinking. Like watching an animal at the zoo, wondering what it must be thinking about.
"Ah, I know." He states apathetically, suddenly standing from his seated position and smiling warmly down at you when you jump back in fright. He's studied you for a while now, y'know. Creeping behind bushes, stalking late at night outside your bedroom window— your sleeping face is so pretty, God, the amount of times he's stroked himself silly to the sight, fogged up your thin windows like a bitch in heat. But now that he's finally got you in his room, tucked away under his bed sheets, locked safe and sound, he thinks you've never been prettier. In part because you suit the look of absolute despair as he walks towards his computer desk, digging through one of the old drawers to bring out a shiny item for you. A gift, if you will. A promise of his obsessive love, and how he'll never stop, even if you keep trying to escape. He'll happily prove himself to you over and over again if that's what it takes!
Lust pools in his tummy at the look you give him upon shining the knife in the dim light of his basement room. Barely held in his hand, spinning the item around a few times to inspect the sharpness. Could it be cleaned? Probably, but his cock twitches at the thought of sharing blood with you, even just a minimal amount. He always washes it after use, and accidentally making you sick by way of an unclean blade only gets him more excited. Instinctive cravings rolling down his spine at the thought of having you rely on him even more than you've already been forced to, shaking in his steps as he once again returns to the bed; only this time he follows your movements as you shuffle away from him and onto the corner of the sheets, prompting him to reach out to tightly grab at your arm so you can escape no further.
Maybe he's holding you a bit too tightly, but the tears that well in your eyes as your gaze flicks between his wide smile and the knife only serve to turn him on some more, tent in his pants just for you, oh you pretty thing, he's so hard because of how cute you are! Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't that what love is? A little pain for a lot of gain. Knife in hand, inching his body closer to your own and adjusting his grip until he's right before you, leaking precum all over himself to the way your eyes drop to his needy cock more than once.
He was right, you are after him, aren't you?
Lifting the knife to right in front of your face, unable to stop his smile from growing at the way you shield your view from it, he tells you a little secret. Letting you know exactly how he plans on showing his love for you, because you deserve some warning for letting him indulge like this. That, and his cock practically begs to scare you some more, to watch those tears roll over and stain your red cheeks in selfish satisfaction. Perverted gratification, would that he could start petting at his fat bulge before you, but you still need to be taught some bedside manners. Such as;
"Stay still." He says calmly, flipping your arm around with ease so as to have access to the inner side, locking his fist around your snappable wrist without much care.
"Wait— Sebastian, I'm sorry, just don't—"
Just looking at you is enough to shut you up, cold stare gawking as if he hadn't a single care about you; a stark contrast to his still yet trembling cock in his pants, repositioning his body and "accidentally" thrusting his cock more in your direction. Fuck, you shouldn't hand him such power over so easily, the sight of your eyes squeezed tightly shut, forcing a few tears to drip drop onto your cheeks, and eventually his bed, has his body positively thrumming with sadistic enjoyment.
Part of him wishes you'd continue begging, let him see just how desperate you can get when faced with your new toy. But more than that, he wants to remind you of his cruel love. It's what he came down here to do, isn't it? What you slammed the door for, right?
"Please be good for me and sit still," He repeats himself, adopting a softer look in the face of your clear fear. As cute as it is, he loves you, his heart pleading to comfort your frightened state. "It'll be over soon, promise. Don't wanna hurt you, kay?"
And before he has a chance to register your response, his knife comes into contact with your pretty wrist and the squeak the metal brings out of you is enough to leave him yearning. Eyes rolled back briefly in hedonistic pleasure, from a single fucking yelp. God, you're so perfect. So pretty and perfect that he can't wait to defile you with his dirty knife, to bare witness to your extreme vulnerability, stand up to the challenge of tending to your self imposed wounds. All in the name of love— it's his life purpose at this point.
It makes sense in his lust fuelled mind, anyway. Overflowing with love for you, brimming over and out into his trembling fist wrapped securely around the knife, all it'd take is a little more pressure. Just a small amount downwards, breach the first layer of your skin and—
Fuck, he's panting. Literally heaving over your quivering frame like some sort of twisted deviant. You know he's doing this out of love, right? That he just adores you way too much to let your actions go unpunished, taking a single shaky inhale before digging the tip of the knife into your soft, supple, skin.
Not too deep! No, this is more of a warning rather than anything more substantial, but it's enough. Enough to leave him drooling over your arm at the mere sight of bright red trickling down it, staining the metal dark for him to lick at later. A measly surface level scratch in his eyes, staring at the mark intensely as he drags the knife across the width of your arm, cock jumping in his pants with every grunt and sigh that escapes your pretty kissable lips with his violent movements.
Lovers meet eyes once he's done, the knife clumsily falling from his hand and onto the bed below, the way you flinch away from the offending item is what finally convinces him to give him cock a little more attention now that you've been properly punished. Pawing away at his jeans with heaving lungs, unable to decide whether to watch the blood trickle from your new cut, or to stare at the horrified expression you now wear as he effectively jerks off right in front of you.
He steals the illusion of choice away from you in one swift move anyway, grabbing at your arm and tugging it with a bruising grip to his lips. Immediately flattening his dirty tongue over the fresh wound, openly moaning against your skin at the taste of your sweet blood. Violence does not always take physical form, and he knows it to be true when he drips saliva along the cut, hoping to dribble parts of himself into you just as much as he's attempting to clean you all better. Or, perhaps more honestly, selfishly using your taste to get off to.
But there is so much love to be had in violence too, isn't there? The tender way his grip softens, now that he's drunk off your blood. How he's rushing to undress himself with one hand because he simply can't stand the thought of not showing you exactly what you do to him just by existing, by crying so prettily like that as he debases you in the secluded privacy of his basement room. With teeth and tongue, lapping with the intent of sucking you dry, huffing in your scent, mumbling over your taste— there is love, here.
Perhaps a little too much so.
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puppyeared · 1 month
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Atla live action 😐
#thats my honest reaction 😐#to be fair ive only seen 20 minutes of the s1 finale bc my parents are watching it but. mmmmm kinda mid#like. the casting is definitely an improvement since the last time they tried a live action but it feels like the writing falls flat#or maybe im being harsh bc ive only heard negative criticism on it beforehand. but fr anytime u bring up the original its already#good and not just because its the original. so much fucking detail went into it to the point of someone noticing azula wielding mai's knive#to how well thought out irohs character is used as a way of uniting the cast especially as zukos foil#i heard that sokkas sexism was toned down and i have to agree that feels like a cheap move. like i get WHY they think it would be better#but its not about how that reflects on real world its about how it affects the story. sokka starts out as a misogynistic asshole because#it makes it that much more impactful when he changes. toning that down makes it flatter and makes his character development weak#and someone pointed out they didnt even make him wear the kyoshi warrior uniform and i know it feels like such a small detail but#come on man. they did that in the original because not only does it help him really walk in their shoes - wearing 'feminine' clothing and#makeup and having suki explain its significance but it also ties in with the shows theme of harmony and intersectionality#i was also disappointed when they had the fire sages explain how the water tribe draws power from the moon because in the original it was#IROH who explained it to aang and everyone else BECAUSE we as the audience is under the impression hes with the 'bad guys'#and it builds up to how he learned from the other nations which reconciles his past as a war general and his character overall#AND its an excellent starting point for the cast and audience to understand how the nations arent as closed off as you would think#plus you would think its only fire nation doing propaganda but they expanded on that with earth kingdom censorship and it WORKS#a lot of things in the live action also feel arbitrary like. they gave momo a near death experience for 5 minutes for no reason#im firmly on the stance of bringing back filler moments instead of putting major events right after each other so that u give your#audience a sense of time passing and to really absorb the story. but i think thats more like shock value than filler and yeah its a small#thing to gripe about but those things build up and its really annoying. the thing abt avatar filler moments is that however small#its at least meaningful. hell even the beach episode emphasizes how isolated zuko and his friends are as child soldiers#i also swore to never watch the first live action since it was that bad but i really liked the stylized tattoos they used for aang#anyway. those arejust my thoughts. im not gonna watch the rest because im a ride or die for the original aftr growing up and#rewatching it at least 20 times as a kid. but theres definitely room for improvement and i wish ppl wouldnt take it as 'better' just cuz#netflix is adapting it. i wouldve killed for them to just reanimate the entire avatar series and touch NOTHING ELSE no redub#no changes to the story. just reanimate the thing and leave the rest alone and youd make easy money just the same#ALSO its very jarring not hearing jack desena and dante basco voicing sokka and zuko cause their voices were the most recognizable to me#i get that its because its live action but im allowed to feel a little sad abt that. and uncle irohs accent was really soothing#yapping
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mintedaisies · 7 months
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been desperately craving to go back to my bookworm days and, this time, delve into the world of monster romance novels
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ahurumustdie · 2 years
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all you really need to know about my relationship with my parents is that i only went home this weekend bc i missed my cat
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ozzgin · 1 month
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Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader
I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror
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It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.
Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.
Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.
It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?
You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.
Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.
Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ
You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.
It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.
The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.
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greatestexpectationss · 3 months
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Poison Ivy
Luke Castellan x Fem!Daughter of Persephone Reader
Description: You've been best friends with Luke Castellan since you were 14 years old. Now you teeter on the edge of something more, but your jealousy causes you to question everything.
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You’re a child of Persephone, one of the far and few in between. Your mother had claimed you an entire year after you’d arrived at camp. Chiron had claimed it was to protect you from Hades' wrath,  but you’d had a sickly feeling it was more than that. Children of Persephone are all springtime and warmth, and perhaps you are in the light of day but in the cover of the night, there is something else that claws at you. You are more winter than spring.
Your dad says its normal to feel disconnected from your mother at this age, but you don’t just feel disconnected you feel abandonded.
You’d never met your mother but you're so so angry with her.
Being the daughter of the goddess of spring came with expectations. You are loyal and kind, with a bit of a wild side. Your powers had manifested as chlorokinesis, you're particularly fond of plants, much like the children of Demeter, but you've got a hardness they don't have, a certain darkness only a child of the underworld could understand. You’d learned that on your quest, where you’d even able to speak and command hellhounds.
There was more to you than meets the eye.
For instance, your infamous knack for growing poison ivy around those who piss you of. It had earned you a loving nickname from Luke…
“Poison” he’d called you after a particularly nasty sprouting during a game of capture the flag when you were just 14 years old. It had been Luke’s first game at camp, some Ares boys were terrorizing him up in the trees, when you’d seen it you felt bad for him. Everyone knew the story of how Luke and Annabeth had arrived at camp with Grover and what had been sacraficed to get there or rather who. You’d come to his rescue, sprouting poison Ivy from nothing wrapping it around their legs and taking them out of the game in one fail swoop with your daggers.
They glared at you for weeks.
It had started a long-lasting friendship between you and Luke. You two were close, and you helped him out in the Hermes cabin a lot. You trained together, ate together, really you did everything together. Luke understands the burning anger that sits beneath the surface of your skin. He knows the warmth and brightness you radiate during the days, but he also knows the bitter darkness that hides within you.
Luke sees you under your mask and still he stays.
Maybe that's why you’d fallen so hard for him.
It was hard not to fall for Luke. He’s all tall, dark and handsome. He’s the best swordsman this camp has seen in 300 years, he radiates confidence and commands respect. But even without all of that everyone loves Luke. It's hard not to, really. He’s kind and brave. It’s no wonder the Aphrodite girls are so enamored with him, really most girls are.
Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you with this funny soft look in his eyes. His touch would linger longer than necessary when helping you during archery practice, and he’d laugh a little too loudly at your jokes, and give you that rare goofy grin when he finds you in a room full of people.
It’s in those moment you’d wonder if he feels the same way. When his words are just for you, when he drags you by your hand to the dock and lays down beside you to look at the starts. When he kisses you cheek before the both of you return to the cabin, when he peeks over the side of your bunk and whispers the sweetest goodnight.
But then there are times you think you're delusional.
Like tonight for instance.
You're sitting at the post capture the flag bonfire with a few of your friends. Selina from Aphrodite, Clarisse from Ares, Katie, from the Demeter cabin, and Juliette from Athena. The Apollo kids are singing and you're in a particularly good mood from winning. But then you look across the fire and Luke has a pretty Aphrodite girl dotting on him, Haley, you think her name is. She’s whispering in his ear, perfectly painted nails wrapped around his forearm.
She's the type of girl Luke deserves.
Juliette's finger snaps in front of your face drawing you away from your pity party. You sit on the bottom step of the bleachers with a leg on either side. Facing you is Juliette, up a step to your right sits Selina, Katie, and Clarisse.
“Hello earth to Y/N, anyone in there??” Clarisse asks, your eyes snap to her and bounce between the others, they all look ammused.
“Sorry,” you mumble cheeks heating in embarsement.
They all look over your head where you’d been staring, There's a knowing look that is shared between them before they looking back at you with a mix of exasperation, ammusment, and pity.
You don't know which one is worse.
“C’mon you don't think Luke’s really into that chick do you?” Katie asks you.
“That chicks name is Haley,” Silena reminds, before reaching out and squeezing you hand, “and Katie’s right everyone knows Luke’s crazy for you, I don't know why she's even bothering.”
Clarisse scoffs and cracks her knuckles, “I can kick both their asses if you want.”
This draws a laugh from you.
“Hey, there she is!” Juliette exclaims, pinching your cheek, you swat her hands away and roll your eyes, the pity is leaving your body but you're still left with the bitter taste of jealousy.
“We’re just friends,” is what you settle with, earning an eye roll from all four of your friends.
“We are!” you insist, running a hand through your hair, “He can flirt with whoever he wants.”
“Y/N, do you think we’re dumb?” Clarisse asks.
“What? No of course I don’t—”
“Well then you know you can’t lie to us,” Katie says, she's much kinder than Clarisse who stares at you expectantly. A classic daughter of Demeter, she reaches for your hand and squeezes. You close your eyes for a second and sigh before looking back over at Luke. The Aphrodite girl is sitting closer to him now, he's nodding along to something she's said. You look away quickly.
“Katie’s right, and as a daughter of Aphrodite I can tell you without a doubt Castellan is just as crazy for you as you are him,” Silena’s so sure of herself, you wish you could feel that confident, you wish you knew how he felt.
“Yeah well it sure doesn't seem that way,” you gesture towards where they’re sitting. Across from you Juliette hums.
“Maybe he’s confused,” she says
“Or maybe Haley just doesn't know how to take a hint” Clarisse grumbles. You sigh and swing your leg over the bleachers before standing up.
“Where are you going?” Katie asks, brow furrowed.
“I just need some air,” you say.
“Y/N we’re literally outside,” Clarisse quips, you glare at her.
“Figurative air,” you say, gesturing wildly around you, away from all of this.”
You're much too aware of how pathetic this all is, you pining in a corner with your friends and Luke across the way with a pretty girl who deserves him. You're not some scorned lover, you're just a sad teenage girl.
“Do you want me to come?” Juliette asks you. She's such a good friend, fiercely loyal, they all are really, and you're incredibly thankful for them.
You wave her off anyway, “I’ll be fine, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Your friends say their goodbyes, not before reminding you for the thousandth time about the small party in the Aphrodite cabin later that evening.
If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed Luke’s boredom, you’d have noticed his eye that always seemed to follow you.
It’s darker as you get further away from the bonfire, you don't mind, the few lanterns lighting the path to the lake give you enough light that you can at least see where you're going. When you arrive at the lake, you're thankful no one else has had the same idea. You can't even count the number of times you've snuck away with Luke only to find numerous couples making out.
Tonight there's no one, maybe because it had been a particularly rough game of capture the flag, or maybe because the usual suspects (aka Chris and Clarisse) are still at the bonfire.
You make your way toward the end of the dock before sitting down, feet dangling off the edge you lean back on your hands and lift your head back to look at the stars. Around you the only sound is nature, and very far off in the distance, you can hear the faintest sound of the Apollo kids singing. Their voices echo and combine with the sounds of the trees.
It would be peaceful if you weren't so miserable.
“There you are.”
You open your eyes and turn your head over the shoulder. Luke’s approaching you with that goofy grin on his face and a sweatshirt in his hands. He pops down next to you on the dock and hands you the sweater.
“I figured you’d get cold, you didn't have a jacket at the bonfire,” he explains when you give him a confused smile.
“Oh,” you say meekly, pulling it over your head, it's much too big for you and it smells like Luke and kind of makes you want to cry. Still, you tell him thank you. His smile drops a little when you don't say anything else.
“You wanna tell me what's wrong Poison?” he asked gently, nudging your shoulder with his. You pick at the sleeves of his sweater, eyebrows furrowed, but hearing the concern in his voice you manage a small smile.
“Nothing’s wrong, I'm just tired,” you excuse. You meet his eyes and you can tell he doesn't believe you.
“Y/N—”
“Seriously, I'm good, thank you for checking on me, and thank you for your jacket but you should go back I'm sure Haley is wondering where you are and I'm really okay,” you promise. He’s got the goofy grin on his face again and he lets out a breathy laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” you asked annoyed. He’s still smiling like he knows something you don't, he's enjoying this.
“What?”
“You're jealous,” you go wide-eyed eyes at his declaration, but you recover quickly with a scoff.
"I am not jealous," you deny, your voice gives you away when it quivers on the last syllable of your sentence. Luke’s grin only grows.
"Yeah okay Poison," he throws an arm over your shoulder, "whatever you say."
I’m going to push him into the lake, you think to yourself. 
You don’t, instead, you settle for pushing his arm off of your shoulder.
"Whatever, I’m outta here," you say before promptly standing up and storming up the dock. You've got tears in your eyes you're thankful he didn't see. You can hear him laughing and calling for you but you don't turn around. You know he's not doing it to be mean, Luke's got a thing for teasing you, and you know he thinks that's what this is.
It doesn't make the sting of it any less.
Luke's got long legs, and you can hear him scrambling after you calling your name. You ignore him up the dock and the sand before he stops you stepping in your path.
"C'mon Poison I know I'm hard to resi–" he stops when he sees the tears in your eyes and you turn your face away from him. His brows furrow in concern when he realizes you don’t think it's funny. He reaches for you again but you take a step back and cross your arms over your chest. 
"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong"
"You're crying"
"So?"
He looks at you like you've sprouted 8 heads.
 "What do you mean so??" You pinch the bridge of your nose, you've seriously had enough of him playing dumb. "Can you just drop it please?" you beg, shifting on your feet and wiping furiously at your eyes before any tears can actually fall from your waterline. 
But he's Luke and your Y/N and you should know by now he's not gonna drop it.
"Wait," he hums taking a step closer to you and prying your crossed arms away from the safety of your body, he holds both of your hands with his own and presses them to his chest, you've got nowhere to hide. Finally, he asks, "Were you actually jealous?"
His tone is softer this time, it holds no teasing just a gentleness you can't quite describe. You don't know if it’s pity or fondness, you're not sure which answer scares you more. You still can’t look him in the eyes.
"No–"
"Y/N, c'mon don't lie to me."
You huff in response. He steps even closer to you. 
"Last week Lee Fletcher was helping you at archery practice," he says finally, you look at him now, his grin is gone but the soft smile he’s giving you, makes you feel like he’s going to let you down easy. He’s going to use Lee as a buffer, say it's clear there's something there when it's nothing. You feel for Lee the kind of platonic love you wish you felt for Luke. 
What you feel for Luke is world-changing and gut-wrenching.
"Okay,” is all you can say, you try to step away again but Luke just grips your hands a little tighter.
“Just let me finish,” he pleads, you nod your head and avoid direct eye contact with him, instead you focus on his dark hair, the dark curls that shine under the moonlight. If he notices you aren’t looking him in the eye, he’s at least nice enough not to say anything about it. 
"He said something to you, I wasn't close enough to hear what it was but it had you cracking up and laughing in the best way," Luke takes his thumb and stokes the corner of your mouth, "you get a little dimple right here when you laugh did you know that?"
You didn't, you also didn't even know he had been there that day. You don't even remember what Lee said that had made you laugh, something about your aim.
"What's your point?" you mumble, his touch on your face is searing and his other hand has moved to your waist, you can feel the burn of his skin through your (his) jacket. You finally cave and meet his eyes, he’s looking at you with such softness you think you might melt on the spit. You're not stupid either, you know what this is. But you need to hear him say it, or you might actually die.
"I was jealous," he shrugs, like it's no big deal, thumb tracing up your check to tuck a stray hair behind your ear before dragging it down to cup your face. "I didn't have any reason to be but I was.” 
Then with that goofy grin he says, “Kinda sounds like someone else I know."
You’re smiling at him now, you both know this is teetering far too close to the edge to come back from now. In fact, even without him saying it, without kissing him, you don’t think you could ever come back from this.
"Why?" you ask him, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck, you play with the strings of his camp necklace to distract yourself from the lessening distance between the two of you. He’s dipping his head closer to you, so close that if he speaks your lips will touch. You want him to kiss you in a way you’ve never wanted anything before.
"You know why." And then he's kissing you. His arm around your waist tightens instinctively, and he presses his lips to yours hungrily, like a starved man who's just arrived at a feast. Your hands drop his necklace and weave through the shorter hair at the nape of his neck, something akin to a sigh of relief floods through both of you. His hand is in your hair now, and he tasted of marshmallows and spearmint, something so distinctly Luke. It’s incredibly intoxicating you don’t want to pull away. And you don’t until you absolutely have to in order to catch your breath, Luke chases after your lips with his own. Kissing them softly once, and then twice, before pulling back and looking at you with a smile on his face. This time you return it, a little laugh escapes your lips before it grows louder.
“Alright now who’s laughing at who?” he grumbles, still smiling despite his tone, his thumb strokes your dimple, and it allows you to compose youself. 
“I’m sorry,” you say reaching up to kiss him softly again. He’s smiling still, so you know you haven’t really offended him. “I just kinda feel like an idiot now,” you admit. 
“Well you are one,” he tells you cheekily, squezzing your sides with both hands in the way he knows you both adore and detest, you squeal and stumble into him, gripping onto his biceps in attempts to get him to stop. “You’re absolutely the dumbest person alive if you think there’s any world that I would wanna do this with anyone else.”
“Really?” you ask.
“Really,” he confirms. You reach up and kiss him again, a little more searing than sweet. Both of Luke’s hands are back in your hair and he’s kissing you back just as fervently, you feel his tongue slip in your mouth, and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s Luke who pulls away this time, gasping for air. 
“I think I might be in love with you,” he admits.
“Yeah, I think I might be in love with you too.”
Suddenly you both hear footsteps approaching quick and heavy, Clarisse stops in front of you both and takes in your dishelved appearance, before rolling her eyes and yelling.
“Guys I found them! You all owe me $20!” she calls out to what you assume to be your group of friends.
“Clarisse what the hell?” you mutter stepping away from Luke reluctantly. Chris comes barelling out of the forest, tripping over shrubbery. Luke pouts at the loss of contact
“They were making out?” he pouts to Clarisse who gestures towards you both as if to say well just look at them! then Chris turns to you and Luke, “You guys couldn’t have waited like one more day?”
You laugh as Luke whacks him upside the head. The four of you begin making your way towards the rest of your friends and the Aphrodite cabin where the party (which is so not a party) is. Your girlfriends squeal and Luke’s friends cringe. Luke throws his arm around your shoulder, "All good Poison?" he ask.
"I'm good, how are you?" he laughs and kisses your head.
"Never better."
You look up at him fondly and kiss the bottom of his scar as the two of you enter the cabin with the rest of your friends.
Across the room, Haley pouts with her siblings, but you don’t notice. You’re too enamored with Luke, the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember. The boy who loves you back.
2K notes · View notes
callmerainman · 3 months
Text
Alastor with a pure hearted s/o
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a/n I'm fully aware that Alastor is aroace. My scenarios are meant to be interpreted as a deep, unconditional love, not necessarily romantic. I'm not aroace but I'm all for educating myself, so please if something's off let me (gently) know. Hope you enjoy :)
TW! canon typical violence
being a twisted person is not a requirement to reincarnate in Hell. Sins depend on religion, culture, societal norms. You were more of a victim, in fact.
you never got used to being in Hell. Surviving not only the Extermination but also the inhabitants becomes harder and harder every year.
it's kill or be killed, but you just can't bring yourself to do any harm to anyone, even if it means risking your own life.
as soon as you hear about princess Charlie Morningstar's new hotel for souls who want a second chance, your bags are PACKED
it's not like you really need redemption, you are pure hearted already. it's more a matter of understanding the reasons why you ended in Hell and coming to terms with them. maybe then the gates of Heaven would open for you. it's also a safer place for you to be.
Charlie welcomes you excitedly; Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie aren't that friendly at first since your personalities don't match, but they eventually grow fond of you
and then there's, well...the Radio Demon.
you never met an Overlord before, and Alastor was supposed to be gone for years. But his presence wasn't frightening. A big smile spread across his face, he welcomed you like a gentleman.
you heard stories about his lifestyle and even previous murderous acts as a human, but for some reason you just can't bring yourself to fear him.
at first you were kinda pathetic to him. so naive, out of touch with the evils of Hell. he didn't dislike you. just thought your life was so easy to throw away in a society like that and that you wouldn't last long.
it seems like you two don't have much to share. he just wanders in his den, while you spend time in your room. you greet each other and have small talks, but nothing more than that. that's until he hears jazz music play behind your door.
he mentions it during dinner, and you start talking about your interest in 30s jazz music, especially the one of the Roaring 20s. you come from a later era, but you're very much cultured about jazz and its forms and that's enough for Alastor to develop an interest in you.
he has so many jazz artists recommendations, and you share some of your favourite pieces with him through your gramophone.
without even noticing, Alastor starts spending hours in your room just listening to music. some time even practicing swing dancing. and talking about jazz culture all around the world, and entertainment in general. he has many fun facts about the history of radio too!
the others at the hotel notice your growing bond and low-key support it, in their own, weird way. Angel Dust is especially convinced that you two are hooking up, as Husk not-so-kindly explains that it's more likely for Alastor to ascend to Heaven than express interest in sex.
you would start to open yourself up a bit to the Radio Demon. he doesn't understand why, since it didn't ask or never showed much empathy. but he just can't bring himself to tell you to stop. he wants to listen.
you manage to make him talk about some glimpses of his own life and thoughts. you knew that he was the complete opposite of you. incline to Evil, an enjoyer of all things that made your stomach clench. but he's still the one person who spends hours with you just listening to both jazz and your fears.
one day, Alastor decided that in no way you are walking around the city without him. it's just too dangerous for you. he tries to teach you how to use weapons and demonic powers to defend yourself but he doesn't feel like you can make it into Hell by yourself.
you like strolling through the streets with him, arms intertwined, chatting and laughing even if demons around you are shitting their pants just by seeing the Overlord walking around.
but one day, Alastor can't find you.
you're not in your room, or in the Hotel hall. No one saw you that morning. He starts to feel something he never felt in his life: fear.
he darts out the Hotel, trying to find you. that's when he sees you just a few streets away.
a group of animal-like demons is encircling you. you are on your knees, arms over your head to protect yourself. A lion-demon is holding a knife over you and your arms are covered in cuts. you hold something close to your stomach.
that's when Alastor realized that he had feelings for you.
when he threw himself between you and the demons attacking you.
it's the first time you see Alastor without a smile. his teeth are gritted, face full of unprecedented violence and will to kill, breathing heavily in and out in a sort of animalistic way, but there's no trace of his characteristic smile you love.
his body starts to morph into his full demon form. his horns grow exponentially, his body too as it hovers menacingly on top of your aggressors as they start to feel a pure fear they never felt before.
in a matter of a second, they are gone. Alastor has always been a calculated, elegant killer, but this time he only felt a raw, ferocious instinct to kill.
as he's done, he turns around towards you. he doesn't want to, but he snaps.
"W̶̞̐H̷̻͒Y̷̰̅ ̶̠͛D̸͕́I̸͔̍D̴̿͜ ̷̯̇Y̶̭͌Ỏ̴̬U̵̖̍ ̷̛͎Ģ̷̕O̸̩͑ ̷̹̈́O̶̮͆U̸͍̇T̴̙͆ ̷̧̀W̴͓̅I̷̞͑T̸̗͒H̴̹͒O̴̺̓Ṷ̵̂T̵̺̚ ̵̢́M̴̜̅E̶̬̋?̸̻͋!̸̦͂"
you flinch, you never saw Alastor lose his composure. he was always so calm and collected. his voice was static, choppy.
the tears that were cornering your eyes start streaming down your face "I-I..."
"Ţ̶̈Ḧ̴͙́Ė̵̩Ỳ̷̳ ̷̳̒Ã̸̡L̷̛͚M̶͇̚O̸͈̔S̴̜̎T̸͚̊ ̷̤͝K̷͊͜I̵̺͝L̵͚̎L̴̤̆Ẽ̴͖D̶͍̈́ ̵̻͝Y̵̰̑O̸̜͘Ù̶͍!̵̻͝ ̸͓̾D̴̯͒O̶̅͜Ṉ̶̌'̷̹͒T̵͎͋ ̶̺́Y̴̹͂O̶͍̅U̴̘͌ ̵̘̾Û̷̪N̸̩̊D̵͎̋Ȅ̴͜R̵̮͂S̸̰̄T̸̝̅A̵͓͘N̷̩͂Ḏ̴̀?̵̗̍!̸̭̎"
suddenly, your bleeding arms fall from your head. you expose what you've been protecting all along.
a vinyl, a really old record from Alastor's favourite jazz artist. a rare find.
"I-I know but...tomorrow it's your death anniversary and I wanted to give this to you...as a surprise. I'm sorry"
Alastor's face immediately softens. Eyebrows raised, smile still not seen. He's just surprised and...moved.
He doesn't say anything, he just picks you up in his arms and takes you back to the Hotel where he bandages your arms.
Feeling guilty for putting yourself in danger, you ask Alastor to come to your room in order to apologize to him.
As he closes the door behind him, he says that there's no need to apologize.
"I'm...glad that you are still in your room. Listening to jazz, alive"
words didn't come easy, but he did feel the need to say it. you smile at him.
you propose to put his gift on the gramophone and so you do. music starts to flow between the small space you shared with the Radio Demon.
that's when you and Alastor start slow dancing. his arms around your waist, yours encircling his neck. his smile is back, but soft and...almost loving.
with his silent agreement, you reach for his cheek and graze it.
"Thank you for saving me, Alastor. Even if you are everything I distance myself from in this life...I'm glad you are the person that you are with me. In my next life, I'll make sure to be a sinner again if it means dancing with you like this"
Alastor now understands his feelings. It's something deeper than care. It's love. But not the same love you reserve to a friend and not even romantic. It's something deeper, more visceral.
He doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and leans in to press his forehead against yours.
you later fall asleep on your bed to the quiet sound of the gramophone playing, hands intertwined on Alastor's chest.
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sorryimananti-romantic · 10 months
Text
Ateez as Dads-
collab with loren @eightmakesonebraincell who shares the same single braincell as me bc we know we're not the only ones obsessed with the recent ateez x children content
(disclaimer: i don't like babies. but the idea of ateez handling babies? adorable. loren, however, loves kids so here's the outcome)
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Hongjoong
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"hold this thing, i don't know what to do with it."
"that's your child, hongjoong."
looks like the frightened hamster meme when the baby starts crying out of nowhere
sometimes sleeps through the baby crying its lungs out at night LMAO but that's only when he's exhausted asf
bet he'll write a song or two about fatherhood too and you'll be like 'what would you know about it you slept through the night'
may be uncomfortable at times but when he starts bonding, you'll see it in his actions
like when he reforms cute little things like clothings or shoes for his baby, adding little dangly things to the crib
or when he makes cute accessories for the baby
matching reformed things omg
super stylish matching parent-kid duo
the bonding literally happens with the smallest moment like one day the baby is crying in his arms and tugs at his shirt with its little fist and he's done for he loves his kid 10000x more all of a sudden
and when the baby calms down immediately after coming into his arms? he'll die of happiness
and when the baby recognises him in a group of people??? new level of dad unlocked
literally melts whenever the kid runs across the room to fly into his arms or calls him daddy
paints the room for his kid and gives them a wall in their room to paint whatever they like
lets the kid paint his nails and they could even have that one matching painted fingernail omg
later when the kid grows up they'll have uv lights and like the latest stuff for nails but you bet hongjoong's gonna dry that nail paint by blowing on it-
literally the most supportive, allowing the kid to explore beyond conventional boundaries and guiding them along
also very attentive esp when they start growing up and observing
he'll make sure he answers all of their curious little questions to the best of their understanding
and surprisingly, he won't mind his kid in his studio
like how adorable is it when you find your kid in his lap, sharing earphones as he composes?
he just loves it when they sit on him or when they lie down next to him/on top of him when he's resting that's his therapy
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Seonghwa
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more of a mother than the real mother
knows exactly what to do like he's raised six kids already (i'm looking at you ateez)
wakes up at ass o clock in the morning to shush the crying baby so you can get some sleep :')
mother-coded that's what he is
you'll definitely be learning motherhood from him LMAO
but jokes aside he's actually the best partner you could have asked for in such a situation
he's so so patient with the kid and you
esp you
he understands when you're overwhelmed and when you need a break
so he's always willing to give you some space and takes care of the kid in the meanwhile which is so :')
so you try your best to return it to him in every way as well <3
you'll both be figuring this journey out together and that's the best part
bonds with the kid so good
esp when they start going to school and he literally can't wait for them to get home so he can hear about how their day was
lives for the gossip he gets from his kids about school too LOL
he'll be like yass give me the tea come on
also pretty much behaves like a kid when he's having a good time with his kids
like he goes 'no it's my turn to select the ice cream flavour you have to try this you'll love it i'm not hearing a no-'
kids teach him new slangs but you bet he'll stick to the good old 'no cap' and 'yeet'
gets matching stupid stuff like those green alien glasses for him and the kid-
you just know your kids will love him more than you and you accept it. you don't mind that at all bc he's such a lovable person
he'll always be running around the house with them trying to catch them or letting them catch him
they will watch animated movies together and draw together and make legos together they're gonna share that obsession
he's there. always. in every moment of their life :')
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Yunho
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curious to learn
but that doesn't stop him from playing with the baby like they're a toy boi has no fear
he's always gushing over how small and cute and adorable they are
he'll also be a bit scared at first to hold the baby in his arms but will get used to it real quick
loves feeding them and cleaning them with you
he's got some sort of magic to him too he can soothe a crying baby in seconds
plays with them/holds them like they're a cat/puppy
gives them rides on his shoulders and they love it you can hear their laughter ring around the house
teases you about how they look nothing like you but if they do look like you more, he'll be scanning them for one similarity that he can boast about.
"he's got my smile. see?"
loves playing with their hair and combing and styling it
also loves it when you all match unintentionally when going out
the type to play with the kids in the most unconventional ways when you're not looking
almost accidentally drops the baby at least once a week- i said ALMOST okay he's good at catching.
kids cling on to his long legs and he effortlessly walks like no big deal omgg
would even swing his legs like an amusement ride which might possibly earn a scream from you-
also once used the laundry basket as a rollercoaster for the kid. you can imagine how that ended. no living beings were harmed tho-
HE'S A FUN DAD OK
literally his kids are always running around him asking him to do sth fun with them or tell them jokes or play with him
teaches the kids the latest trends
makes dancing tik toks with them
he's actually also the super responsible dad, always dependable. you literally have nothing to worry about esp bc he can be serious when he needs to be
he allows the kids to take challenges, believing the kids need to grow at their own pace and that getting hurt is also a part of growing up
teaches them to be kind, to respect people, to always smile
goes on dates with them to the amusement parks, aquariums, carnivals etc and when they're older they go fishing or go-karting
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Yeosang
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(sincerely apologise for using a photo with alcohol in a post with babies BUT DOES HE NOT LOOK BABY HERE???)
the babiest of dads
googles whatever the baby does as if that will give him the answer
notices every little thing the baby does
follows instructions like a robot
forgets that the baby is actually a baby and they can't really do their stuff themselves so he has to do it for them-
like for example after a meal he clears the high chair and forgets he needs to help the baby off the chair until it wails LOL
is always worrying about what the baby is feeling esp when it is crying without a reason
always fusses about the little things bc he cares so much :')
sometimes you have to sit him down and tell him that it's okay if the baby is crying-
he even enjoys simply watching the baby esp when they do stupid stuff or play around with food
"that's disgusting but so adorable"
gets taught the latest trends by his kid but still ends up using them in the wrong contexts lmao
yeosang and the kid wailing about the mom on their way home until yeo takes the wrong turn and the kid glares at him and points to the right direction
yeosang and the kid in the shopping mall and yeosang gets lost
goes to the counter to pay but taps his pockets bc he can't find his wallet and the kid sighs loudly and hands it to him
yeosang taking his kid to the parent teacher meeting and he forgets HE'S the parent
he may be forgetful and zone out at times but he's actually very responsible. you never worry whenever you leave your kid with him and go out. you can depend on him <3
you'll see him mature as his kids grow up too, like you can literally see him learning fatherhood
doesn't mean they won't open dexter's laboratory when you're gone and clean up the mess before you come-
sees cute posts about lunchboxes with octopus sausage and seaweed characters on the rice but canNOT replicate it even after spending hours but the kids flaunt it like a masterpiece at their school <3 (loren you're so right for this)
his kids' friends WILL have a crush on yeosang. the teachers might too. how could you not??
his kids gon be the prettiest istg-
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San
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i'm sorry to break it to you but you'll have to take care of two babies <3
as loren said 'normal children learn behaviours from their parents. san learns behaviours from the baby.'
pretends to cry when the baby is crying so he can also receive hugs and kisses from you
he's actually the most responsive father ever, like he'll know what's actually happening with the kid instead of pretending to know
it's like he's connected to them on an astral level
so he's pretty much a natural caretaker
like he said, he knows how to give love
so he'll never make you feel less loved as well
he'll keep reassuring you how imp you are to him esp now that you're the mother of his child and he'll always be grateful to you for bringing this blessing into his life
but he also has his moments LMAO like i can just imagine him playing with the kid in the most babiest of manners
to the point the kid refuses to listen to you
the kids will always ALWAYS choose him whenever they're asked the 'who do you love more mom or dad' question
and even though that makes you pissed momentarily bc pls who wouldn't get pissed you find it super adorable how much your kids love their dad
safe place.
tells his kids early on what's good and what's bad. no compromises
teaches them when to be sorry and when to stand up for themselves
taekwondo together <3 he'll make them show off at family events or stuff and demand that the audience give good reactions otherwise he's gonna pout sooo hard
he'll make sure his kids don't laze around. chores? yes. exercise? yes. nap-time? necessary. homework? don't even dare to say no. play-time? HELL YES
teaches traditional games to his kids too and makes them interact with other kids to play instead of video games so early on
the video games are HIS okay they can't touch it until they grow up
kids go to him for help in school work and he'll sit there all zoned out wondering when the hell this got included in their syllabus
will refuse to give up until you catch him tired and scratching his head in confusion
"i'm pretty sure education gets tougher every year."
"whatever helps you sleep at nights san <3" LOL
loves spending time together, all of you, anywhere as long as you all are together <3
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Mingi
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9/10 times will cry when the baby cries
but also really good at taking care of them and it amazes him too
calms the baby down with the cutest most concerned face ever so he looks more baby than the baby
pretends to sleep when the baby wakes up crying in the middle of the night
until you poke his stomach and go 'don't you fucking dare' and he starts laughing helplessly
but then takes the reins and lets you sleep if you look too done <3
jokingly tries to gaslight you into thinking it's your turn to settle the baby but you bet you're keeping tabs too
but when he sees how tired you look, he'll never ever complain no matter how tired he may be himself. will even tuck YOU into bed
the type to sit in the lounge with some kid's show on with the kid itself and you give him snacks to feed the kid
but at some point he got a taste and now he's looking at the packaging and going 'this shit good' when it's actually some baby-friendly snack 😭
and then suddenly it's all gone and the kid is glaring at mingi with angry eyes 😭😭 and he's like pleasure is temporary my child-
but now he has his own fav baby snacks too.
does freestyle rapping about the misery of fatherhood LMAO
also does lame stuff like tapping on the baby's shoulder and when they turn to look at him he has his finger out so it pokes the baby's cheek like-
gets matching shades for him and the kid
hangs out with them a lot, even if it's inside
hears every story they have to tell but also they just looooveee to hear stories from him bc he's a good storyteller
even though half of the shit is made up but he pretends it actually happened-
"one time i saw your mom ugly crying in a shop. i asked her what the matter was. she saw me and fell in love instantly."
"wasn't it the other way?"
loves swinging his kids in his arms whenever he comes home and then you stand there all pouty and he runs after you-
can't scold kids to save himself. can never. always bursts out laughing whenever he glares at them. so you do that for him.
now you're the antagonist in the house
can't handle when his kids are being adorable like he'll just clutch his heart and pretend to faint
best father-kid dynamic bc he's the playful but responsible dad
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Wooyoung
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he's a natural at this come on
"i feel like he's more my sibling than my own child"
always has his baby in his arms to the point you have to snatch it from him bc you can see he's tired
takes care of everything- from bathing them to feeding them. he's so good at it too
you love him even more bc he may tease you to bits but you never thought he'd be a cooperative lovable menace too
talks to the baby in baby language and they actually hold conversations
and when you join he'll just make fun of you LOL
starts treating you like a baby too when you're tired and you're not sure you hate that you might actually start doing it on purpose too-
taught the kid the art to charm people so they're throwing random cheeky compliments around
like they'll go to a shop and the kid will compliment the shopkeeper and they'll be like omg so precious and hand freebies
and those freebies would be wooyoung's earnings btw aint no way the kid gon have those
will train a family of cutest loveable menaces :')
the chef dad
creates masterpiece lunchboxes for his kids that even the teachers are tempted to steal
i can just imagine the girl friend (also crush) of wooyoung's son at school having a big fat crush on wooyoung and wanting to marry him like come on😭😭
then the son gets super grumpy about it and woo sits him down and asks what's bothering him
then he'll teach him how to bake cookies and the son ends up sweeping the girl off her feet omgg
woo placing his hands over his kid's hands bc they're too small to properly hold the piping bag when they decorate cakes and cookies and cupcakes
them playing in the kitchen and throwing flour on each other and you come and look all smugly at woo bc yes you're gonna clean this mess later on
but you end up joining them :')
dolls up his kids and asks them to kiss him on both his cheeks before they leave
and you bet the kids love that routine
hugs. all the time. hugs.
makes sure to capture these moments for memories if you haven't already and he'll love looking back at these days <3
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Jongho
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best dad
makes sure he doesn't forget to take care of you as you take care of the baby :')
always gets surprised when the baby does sth new
priceless reactions from him, esp when the baby first says a comprehensible word or takes its first steps
always spreading his arms whenever he spots the baby so the baby can crawl/walk/run to him
swings them in the air and does those little throws
the strong dad. the one who's carrying the kids effortlessly- one on the shoulder, one under the arm, walking as if they weigh nothing
jongho's kid: hi i'm hungry
jongho: hi hungry, i'm dad
overuses every dumb dad joke ever to exist but still finds it super hilarious and sometimes you'll end up laughing along
"back in my days-"
"ah shit here we go again."
bc you know dad jokes aside he's actually a super funny guy when he wants to be
the type to team up with his kid to tease YOU
whispers shit in their ears like 'go pull out your mom's hairclip as revenge for her not letting us hang out in the snow with ice cream last night' when you're super occupied and gets a good laugh out of it
taps your shoulder and then looks away when you glare at him but ends up pointing at the kid like the kid's the one who did it-
when the two are a giggling mess it's hard to differentiate who's the actual kid from the parent
sings with his kids a lot. might vocally train them a bit too
road trips are gonna be so much more fun when everyone's singing at the top of their lungs
when his kid is older and starts to get school assignments that require some form of art like creating a model or designing a poster, his kid is definitely going to score an A because jongho can and WILL help and end up over-achieving LOL
will plan with his kids on days like valentine's or mother's day or anniversary, prepare to get serenaded by the lot
he involves them a lot in everything so they grow up super smart
loves doing stupid things with the kids too like he'll literally be the one following the kids at times
but you love it bc you never have to worry about anything with him ;-; <3 he's also super protective
unless there's a bug in front of you. then you're all on your own.
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yuki-world · 6 months
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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH
summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?
tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words
a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
neuvillette is not amused.
he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.
but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.
“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”
“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.
look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.
but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.
the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.
its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.
“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”
the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.
“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”
“i think that’s enough, y/n.”
at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.
it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.
neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”
he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.
“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.
he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.
“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.
he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.
you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.
“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”
you’ve… seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”
“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.
“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,��� he tells you.
he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.
“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.
“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.
you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.
you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.
“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.
he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.
this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.
“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”
neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”
his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.
he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.
and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?
he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.
“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”
what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”
he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.
he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.
neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.
“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”
“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”
you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”
“but?”
“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”
“i see. i will gladly indulge.”
ー @yuki-world
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mitsies · 1 year
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-;, panda bear ; nagi seishiro > nagi can't help but be jealous of your stuffed toy.
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nagi seishiro frowns at his phone. his teammates move and chatter around him, getting ready to go home after practice but he remains slouched against a wall with his shirt off and towel thrown haphazardly over his shoulder as he stares at your message.
it's a picture of you, and you look as pretty as ever. you're sitting on the couch of your shared living room with your laptop on your thighs, with what seems to be an essay displayed on the screen. the jumper you're wearing is big and evidently one of his.
yeah, yeah, you're gorgeous- that's not what's upsetting him. what really pisses nagi off is the stupid stuffed animal snuggled into your side.
it's a stuffed panda, the one nagi got you 2 years ago on your very first valentine's day together. he'd never really expected it to last as one of your favourite items in the world- and it didn't. only a few months later, you'd sadly reported that you could no longer find the plush toy. actually, this was much to nagi's benefit- it meant that you'd have more physical affections reserved for him, anyways.
but then, just recently, the both of you had moved in together, and in packing up your items the stuffed panda had resurfaced. at first, nagi didn't care. you were elated, good for you- it didn't bother him too much.
until the pictures started.
whenever nagi was gone for an extended period of time, you'd shoot him a selfie, or a .5 picture of you in the stuffed animal's company. sometimes you were working. others cooking, or about to fall asleep. and nagi couldn't understand why it made him so bitter.
"ay, nagi!" he looks up from his screen at reo's voice. "you gonna keep standing there like you're in an emo magazine shoot or are we going?"
"i'm coming," he replies, shoving his phone in his back pocket. as much as he dislikes that stupid stuffed panda, who was the recipient of your attentions much more than nagi was, it seemed, he'd much rather be home with you than anything else. that, and he had just concocted a plan.
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you look up at the sound of the keys jingling outside the apartment door, and a grin grows on your face subconsciously. turning the heat off on the stove, you depart from your position in the kitchen and move to open it.
"hi, sei," you smile as your boyfriend steps into the doorway, "how was practice?"
his black duffle bag plops to the floor and his arms wrap around your waist. he smells like earth and salt but you don't mind too much, simply humming and moving your hands around his neck to run through his overgrown hair. his face finds its way to the crook of your neck and you feel him exhale.
"boring. i'm glad i'm here now."
"you always say it's boring."
"because it is."
with a light laugh, you untangle yourself from him, much to his discretion. "i've got dinner on the stove. go shower, you're gross."
he huffs and picks his bag back up before making his way to the bedroom. opening the door, nagi is greeted by none other than his sworn enemy- the panda bear.
he stares at it. its buttoned eyes look back. nagi thinks he sees demons swirling behind it. dropping the bag, he closes the bedroom door. this was going to get messy.
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you're only slightly startled when you hear a thump coming from your bedroom. nagi was 20000 centimeters tall- he was prone to clumsiness at times. but then it happens again, and again, and again, and you think it would be really irresponsible for you to not check.
pushing aside the cutting board, you travel up the hallway to your shared bedroom. the door is closed, and when you push it open, you're greeted with the sight of nagi holding your large stuffed panda bear in a headlock.
his gaze snaps to you. you stare at him. "seishiro," you start slowly, "what the fuck?"
nagi makes no moves to explain himself, simply slowly shifting away from the stuffed bear. "um."
"why are you beating the shit out of a stuffed animal?"
he's plaintive in his response, putting a crack in your stern facade. "it deserved it."
"and why is that?"
"looked at me funny."
"i'm sure it did, with its button eyes. the ones that, y'know, can't move."
nagi edges his way to a standing position, before he picks up his bag again and begins removing his dirty clothes and putting them in the laundry bin as if nothing had happened.
you stand with your arms crossed over your chest in the doorway for a few beats, before a resigned sigh leaves you. "dinner will be ready in 5. please leave my stuffed animal alone."
"'kay."
you make your way back to the kitchen, and nagi locks eyes with the pair of buttons once more. now, it was really game on.
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toruro · 1 year
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— ✧ desperate
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i don't know what i'd be doing without you (raise y_our glass / huh yunjin)
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pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader
description: when your husband starts to get more and more busy, you naturally grow needy. it’s only after long game of cat and mouse that he finally gets you to fess up about what's been bothering you, and it's safe to say your answer is definitely not what he's expecting. 
tags: smut (18+), husband!wonwoo, fluff, oral (f receiving), bulge kink, angst and miscommunication but it's resolved ^-^
w/c: 3.7k
a/n: inspired by this ... so sorry it took me so long to get to this, it's been sitting in my drafts for SO long ... but i hope u all enjoy! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated :3
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You’re convinced you’ve gone crazy. This shouldn’t be right—your fiancé being exhausted shouldn’t turn you on—it’s wrong. Isn’t it?
It’s been bothering you recently, but you’ve held back.
When he comes home and immediately drops his black suit jacket on the floor and his jaw is tight, you turn away and ignore how it reminds you of the way he clenches his teeth when fucking into you. When he unbuttons his white formal shirt at the top, revealing the chiseled curve of his chest, you leave the room for a few moments, hoping that the burning ache between your legs will soon ebb away. It’s exhausting in its own way, you think.
Coming home every day to a quiet house, with nothing but you and your hand slipping under the waistband of your panties trying to do anything and everything to make your fingers feel like his; Wonwoo walking in hours after your futile attempts to make yourself cum, muttering sincere apologies of, “I’m sorry, there’s just this one deal we’ve been trying to make and—“
You’d have to shush his words, wrapping your arms around him saying, “It’s okay, I understand—you’re working so hard.”
"I hate being away from you," Wonwoo would admit, and you'd kiss his cheek softly. He'd melt in your arms and in the moment you'd feel so guilty for feeling so needy earlier, but you can't lie and say the way that his arms are so large and hard under your touch has you throbbing.
You'd get into bed before Wonwoo is out of the shower, doing your best to lull yourself to sleep so you don't have to be awake to feel his bare skin against your body, because you just know your poor pussy won't be able to handle it.
Tonight, he comes back around the same time as others—weary after a long day at work—a small frown etched on his lips as he runs a rough hand through his tousled hair, noticing that you aren’t by his side to greet him like normal. A twinge of disappointment runs through his body as he glances around, waiting silently to see if you're just a few seconds away from walking up to him,
To be honest, you’ve been horny all evening—like pretty much all other ones—so when you hear him unlock the door, you just can't bring yourself to go see him, knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to just sink to your knees in front of him and unbuckle his pants.
Wonwoo, still standing by the doorway, is frankly quite confused. "Baby," he calls out, wondering that maybe you just didn't hear him walk in.
But when you only let out a low hum and say, "Yeah?" in response, he feels...dejected? No, that it's the right word.
To be honest, Wonwoo has been sensing something's wrong. He brushed it off earlier, thinking that it was probably just him being too tired to tell the difference between you being tired too, and you avoiding him. Up until right now, he had convinced himself it was the former—you two both had been swamped in work, so he figured that you were just as exhausted as him.
Now, Wonwoo isn't too sure of himself. Those thoughts that 'what if she's not interested anymore,' are creeping back into his mind, but when he walks into the living room to see you curled up in the couch, he tries to push them away. Absentmindedly slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he walks over to you and sits next to you on the couch.
"How was work?" you ask him, not really looking up from your phone as you lean in slightly to his side. Fuck, he looks so good with the way his glasses hang low, collarbone on display, eyes gazing intensely at yours—fuck, fuck, fuck, you just can't take it.
"Good," Wonwoo hums, wrapping an arm around your side and you might just combust with the way the rough pads of his fingers brush against your skin because—fuck—you can't stop thinking about the way they rub the inside of your cunt. "How was your day?"
"Tiring," you reply honestly, and just when Wonwoo thinks you'll sink deeper into his hold, you're pulling away, leaving him cold and confused. "I'm going to get into bed now," you murmur, "'m really tired, you know?" Sitting up from the couch, your fiancé just stares at you for a few moments, blinking, before you force yourself to turn away and walk hastily to your bedroom.
If Wonwoo thought something was wrong before, he definitely knows something is wrong now. You and him, you're good at communicating. Wonwoo expects you to tell him if there's anything bothering you, and you expect the same of him; so now that there's obviously something you aren't telling him, he's more worried than anything that there's something you aren't comfortable telling him.
After snapping out of the somewhat shocked state he's in, he doesn't hesitate to stand up and follow behind you. You're crawling into bed when you hear his footsteps thudding up towards you, and this is when you think your luck has run out—your patience is running thin, and if you look at Wonwoo any longer, you know you won't be able to handle it, turning yourself over in the bed to smush your face in the pillow.
Maybe if you pretend you're asleep he won't talk to you. Unfortunately for you, like you said: your luck has run out.
"Baby," Wonwoo coos softly, as you feel the mattress dip next to you with his added weight. There's a hand on your shoulder and you think you might just crumble right there and then. "C'mon, I know you're awake." Maybe if you just hold out a little bit longer—"Okay seriously."
You open one eye and let it flicker to the direction of Wonwoo's voice, finding him sitting on the bed on his knees next to you, eyes pleading. "'m tired," you try to tell him, turning back before he grabs your shoulder again.
"Something's wrong." Yeah, maybe it's the fact that you haven't been able to make yourself cum in weeks.
"Yeah," you say bluntly, the words coming out harsher than you'd anticipated. "I'm tired and you aren't letting me sleep. That's what's wrong." Wonwoo gives you that look and now you know you're really in for it.
"You're avoiding me."
You open both your eyes, sitting up and leaning against the headboard with a frown. "I'm not."
"You didn't say come hi when I came home."
"I was cozy on the couch."
"Angel, you always come say hi to me," Wonwoo says, and you can swear there's almost a pout on his lips. You rub your eyes with your hands, trying to distract yourself from the way you can see under his shirt when he leans forward, revealing his pretty set of hard muscles.
"Sorry, I don't know I just—I was really tired today," you try to say sincerely, looking at your fiancé with eyes practically begging him to just let it go.
"Did I do something wrong?" Wonwoo blurts out, and your eyes widen.
"What, no?" you exclaim, nearly mortified that he would even think that. "No, why would you think that?"
Wonwoo's eyes furrow, and you can't quite read his expression. "You've been so distant..." his voice trails off. "If I did something wrong I want us to talk about it, not have secrets." You sigh as he reaches his hand over to intertwine with yours, squeezing your eyes shut when you find yourself focusing in on the thick, prominent veins.
"It's embarrassing," you murmur under your breath, not daring to look Wonwoo in the eye while a series of downright filthy thoughts run through your mind.
"It's okay," Wonwoo whispers, inching closer to you, so sincere that it's driving you crazy.
"I—" your voice hitches in your throat, and he looks at you worriedly as you pull your hand away from his so you can bury your face in your palms, inhaling deeply. He places a hand on your back immediately and the proximity has you squeaking out his name.
"What is it, baby?" Fuck, his voice is so deep and it's slightly hoarse and it's strumming your heart in ways that you can't even describe.
"It's just—you're just gone so—so much," you finally manage to say. You know it's vague, but it's the only thing that you can muster up.
Wonwoo's face scrunches up, and he looked at you confused. "I—I know," he sighs, getting frustrated with himself for leaving you like this. You catch the somber look on his face, and your heart tightens at the idea that he thinks this is his fault because it's not.
Not his fault his cock is so fat and long and pretty in ways that has your mouth salivating when you even just think about it. Not his fault that whenever you close your eyes and press your thighs together, all you can think about is his length carving its shape into your aching cunt. Yeah. Totally not his fault.
"I'm sorry," Wonwoo continues when you don't respond. "Have I been neglecting you?"
Your pussy, yeah. "N-no, it's not that," you stutter out, trying to push the thoughts away. Maybe there's still some time for you to back out of this.
"Can you not lie? I can tell you're upset with me."
"No!" you say quickly, bringing up a hand to catch his wrist. His skin burns against yours, and you aren't sure how much longer you can put this up. "I guess I just...I missed you a lot..." your voice trails off hoping that Wonwoo will understand what you’re getting at, but the dazed look on his face tells you he hasn’t got a clue.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says with a frown, linking his fingers with the ones on his wrist, pulling you close. Fuck, you really should pull away because his gentle tug is reminding you of the way he pulls you on top of him when you're about to ride him and—“Work has just been a lot lately,” he explains sadly, looking down at you as he pulls you flush against his chest.
Your face is burning and his exposed skin pressed against you is just too much, and you need to pull away. “Wonwoo, just—“
“Do you not love me anymore?” he blurts out and you freeze.
“What?!” you gasp out. “What the hell—no, Wonwoo.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and now you know that you can’t let this go on any longer.
“I’m trying to figure out why you’ve been so so distant and you keep pushing me the fuck away and—“ he rambles, clearly frustrated when he rakes a hand through his hair.
Your eyes well up with tears and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how sad Wonwoo looks or how bad you feel for letting it all build up to this point or how you feel guilty for being so needy in the first place.
“It’s not you, it’s not you, it’s me!” you finally manage to tell him. Wonwoo stills, watching tears leak from your lashes as you go on. “I’ve just been missing you so much, Won,” you blabber, “and when you come home so tired and exhausted I don’t wanna bother you and—sometimes it hurts to be in the same room as you because I just wanna feel you but—”
“Wait hold on,” Wonwoo murmurs, his faced scrunched up. “That’s what this is about.”
You look away bashfully, burying your face in your hands. “I told you, Won—it’s embarrassing!” Wonwoo stares at you for a moment, blinking as he lets your words sink in. You're scared of his reaction, keeping your eyes shut tight—afraid you'll see him looking down at you and seeing you for the desperate, needy girl you are.
The anticipation of his response is still killing you though, and you're about to murmur something more when you hear Wonwoo stifle a little laugh. Peeking up at him through your fingers, you catch him watching you with a rather amused smile.
"You were just horny?" he murmurs, bringing his hand up to pull your fingers away from your face.
Quickly averting your gaze, you mumble, "I—I wasn't just horny...it's just—it's been weeks and you look—" you bite your lip wondering if you should go on. The smirk on his face tells you yes. "—you look really nice when you get home."
"Pretty sure that means you were just horny," Wonwoo teases, and although you feel like the world might as well swallow you whole, a lot of the tension that's been weighing down on your shoulders has vanished. Since your confession, Wonwoo has traced his hands up your arms and down your body so they now rest on your waist, pulling you close to him as he shifts his own body so he can lay against the headboard.
"No," you huff, easing back into a more comfortable setting now that you're sitting on his lap, the heated mess between your legs growing even more dirty. "Missed you. Missed this." You punctuate the last word with an peck on his lips that has you both grinning.
"Missed my dick, is what you're trying to say," Wonwoo says with a roll of his eyes, and you slap his shoulder.
Pouting, you reply, "Hey. Stop doing that, or you're going to make me start feeling like I'm the only one who wants this..."
"This?" Wonwoo's eyebrow is cocked up, and you feel yourself shrinking under his gaze. Your hips are resting dangerously close to his, but his firm grip on you has you stuck in your place.
"You know..." your voice goes quiet, and you look up your husband pleadingly.
"I've really left you needy, huh angel..." he mutters under his breath, running one finger along your bottom lip as you lean into his touch. And then his lips are crashing onto yours, a wet mess of tongue and saliva as you both lick into each other's mouth.
Whining, you grind down onto his pelvis when lets go of his bruising grip on your waist, allowing you to find that friction that you've been craving for weeks. Your hands instinctively fly up to tug at his button up, the flat rounds of plastic slipping through his fingers as you claw your way to feel his skin against you.
Wonwoo lets you work his shirt off of him, pulling away so he can fix his own attention on your pajama pants, wondering how many times you've tried to make yourself cum in them. He shoves away the thought of leaving you so needy that you felt the need to fucking play with yourself, instead bringing his hands to the elastic waistband and yanking down and over the curve of your ass.
"I missed you so much, Won-won," you mewl into his shoulder, legs instinctively wrapping around his bare torso once you successfully rid Wonwoo of his shirt and kick off your pajamas off.
"You could've—" he cuts off with his own grunt as he adjusts under you, trying to push his pants off of himself as he grows harder by the second, "—said something earlier. You should've."
You look up at him meekly once he finally get's his work pants out of the way and thrown off the bed, squirming in your own panties and loose shirt. "I know but you're working so hard," your voice trails off. "Coming home everyday, all tired and all."
"I always have energy for you," he murmurs, nipping at the skin of your neck, allowing himself to taste as much of you as you'll let him. Quickly and firmly, he flips the two of you so that you're leaning against the cushions and he's on top of you, settling in between your legs. Sucking hard, Wonwoo vaguely thinks about how you might complain about the hickey in the morning, but the thought is swept away when you thread your fingers into his hair and tug gently.
"Wonwoo," you coo, and you don't need to say any more for him to know what you want. He briefly considers teasing you a little longer—making you plead with him, tear up as you beg for him to fuck you, but he knows that you've been thinking about this for too long to have the will to make you wait any longer. Wonwoo can save the edging for another time, he reminds himself, as he slowly makes his way down your body so that his lower half is resting flat on the mattress, strong arms wrapping around your legs and hips.
"Missed seeing you like this, pretty," he murmurs, nuzzling his cheek into your inner thigh, placing wet kisses on the sensitive skin.
"Missed you too," you mumble, growing shy by the way Wonwoo's staring down at the wet spot that stains your panties in front of him.
"Yeah?" he hums, bringing up one hand to pinch the nub of your clit between the fabric, causing you to gasp loudly and throw your head back. "I can tell baby...you're soaked." The tips of your ears burn and you bury your face into the crook of your arm.
"Won-won..."
"Sorry baby, you just look so sexy right now...take your shirt off for me," he responds with a cheeky grin, pressing a kiss onto your soiled panties before peeling them off while you shimmy off your own top. You hiss when the cool air hits your slick folds, hips bucking for some friction. "Easy," Wonwoo orders, grounding your hips down with one strong arm, "Let me take my time with you."
"But I can't wait anymore!" you whimper, watching him bring his face dangerously close to your core. A choked moan rips from your throat when Wonwoo heeds your body's request, liking a warm stripe up your cunt, swirling his tongue over your aching clit. He hums against you as he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, sucking so hard it has your arms flying down to grip at his hair.
Without anymore words, Wonwoo glides his tongue through your folds, pressing against them flat and hard and fuck, does he move so languidly, it's like your bodies were made for each other. He lets you tug at his hair, loosening his grip on your waist so that you can buck your hips in a shallow motion while he swivels his head up and down in sync, allowing you to grind against his face perfectly.
"Fuck—Wonwoo—I missed you so much," you cry out when he prods one finger at your hole, the gyrating of your hips taking its opportunity to suck him right in. And before you know, he's got two fingers plunged knuckle deep inside your cunt as he continues to lap at your clit. His name runs from your lips like a mantra and you wonder how you'd gone more than day without having him go down on you like this, because right now it feels as if Wonwoo is all you can breathe, smell, feel, and think.
"Yeah? Think you can show me how much you missed me?" he manages out, finally pulling his face away to catch his breath before diving right back into your filthy cunt, allowing the glistening mess that runs from his lips and down his chin to grow even messier.
"Yes!" you moan as he slips in a third finger, curling them up into that one spot that is burned into the back of his mind—the one spot that has your legs shaking and eyes shutting tight as you cry out his name when your orgasm hits. Wonwoo finger fucks you through the high, and suddenly you're trembling for his touch, to feel his skin against yours, to have him so close you wouldn't be surprised if you mold into one.
Intertwining your fingers with his clean one, you pull him up so fast that he nearly falls over you, grunting a little as he climbs his way up to have his body hovering over yours. It's not enough, you think dazedly, wrapping your arms around his torso to yank him down on you so that your bodies are pressed up right against each other. "Baby," he huffs as his clothed cock rubs up against your bare cunt.
You push your lips against his in an awkward, sloppy kiss as you body roll around in the sheets as Wonwoo tries to shuffle off boxers and you try to wrap your legs around his bare torso as best as you can. As soon as you're both successful, he's pulling away from your lips for a moment to gasp when he slides his cock through your dripping folds. Fuck, it really has been too long, he thinks.
Wonwoo is drunk on the feeling of your wetness alone, and then you're holding him so close—tits pressed up against his chest and pelvis pressing into his and god, he can't take it anymore. He'll apologize later for giving you no warning, but right now he just needs to be inside of you, sinking his fat length into your warm cunt with no hesitation.
The stretch is delicious, and you're reminded of just why your fingers were never able feel the same—he's splitting you in half, and you can't help but crave for more and more and more. Your skin burns and it feels like you might just pass out from the pleasure, but you don't mind if you meet your end—not if it's by Wonwoo's hand.
And then he shifts inside you just a little but that's more than enough for you both to feel it. Wonwoo's stomach is pressed up against yours and it'd be impossible to not feel it. He grabs your hand in his and slips it between the little space that's left between you two so you can both smooth your hands over your stomach and the realization is more than enough to have your feeling another orgasm bubble up in your core.
Because at the base of your belly is the imprint of Wonwoo's cock inside of you, so deep that you're body forced itself to make room for him and the thought alone is enough to have you moaning into each other's mouth as your lips meet for another filthy kiss.
It's about to be a long fucking night.
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soapskneebrace · 4 months
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confessional offerings
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previous - neighbors - next
Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Dirty talk. Implied masturbation. LIGHT daddy kink (the word is not used but the dynamic is implied). Also on Ao3.
The neighbors lay their cards on the table.
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“Hi, love,” he replies. “Where are you? Still at dinner?”
“No, we left. I’m in my hotel room.”
“Good,” John says. He feels his own expression go soft at the sound of your voice, which is sweet and gentle even across miles and distorted by the phone. “I missed you this morning.”
He hears you shift—imagines you laying in bed, in your pajamas after a shower, skin warm and hair still a little damp. He can almost feel it if he imagines it; the rhythm of your breath with his mouth against your neck, his open hands across the soft expanse of your stomach.
He’s never seen your bed, so he has to supply his own in his mind. The idea starts up an ache that’s been building all day.
“Me too,” you say, at a near-whisper. You sound painfully shy.
John smiles. He likes that shyness, likes that you give him the chance to draw you out of it. “You know, if you want to know why I like you, love, all you have to do is ask. I’d tell you if you did.”
You don’t respond for a moment. He doesn’t press. You like that he does that, he’s found, that he gives you time to think. John has no qualms doing that for you; he wants you to feel comfortable with him. 
Finally, in a small voice, “Why do you like me, John?”
“What a question,” he says, unable regardless to keep from teasing. “Where do I even start? You’re putting me on the spot, here.”
“John!” you whinge, and he laughs.
“Hm,” he murmurs. “I like that you’re kind. You never have to spend time with me, but you do. And you’re smart, love, I like that a lot. You guessed I was bored without me saying anything, and did something to help me. I don’t think you know how much that means to me.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing you to read my books. Just so I can have something to talk about with you.”
“If that’s what you think forcing is, I’d like to see what happens when you really try to get something you want.”
You laugh, so he knows from that sound that you know your fear is a little ridiculous. Good—if you really thought that nonsense, you might leave him alone.  
“And I like the way you say my name,” he says, hearing the desire in his own voice. Will that sound scare you? He’s got to show it to you at some point. You need to know how easily you can get him going.
“How do you mean?” you ask. 
“Like it means something to you,” he says. “Not a lot of people call me by my first name, love. And no one says it the way you do.”
“Oh,” you say, small and soft.
“I want to hear you say it more often,” he continues.
“…John,” you say, and it hits him like a lightning strike. His cock throbs suddenly and near-painfully.
His voice lowers, roughens. “Just like that.”
You say it again, still shy, but on a breath that is clear in its arousal. “John.”
This is not where he meant for this call to go, but he couldn’t complain about the direction if he tried. He shifts his legs, tries to convince his growing erection to sit a little more comfortably against his thigh, but does not touch himself. He isn’t there with you, not yet. 
“I like that you give me that, love. You let me have so much. More than you know.”
“I always think that,” you say, passionately. “I never understand. I don’t know why things mean so much to you.”
“Because it’s you,” he says. “There isn’t a lot of…gentleness, or kindness, in my life. And you—that’s all you are. You give me more of it than I’ve ever had. I’m a man starved, and all you ever do is feed me.”
He wants to see your face so badly. He wants to see the little crease that shows up between your brows when you get emotional. He wants to hold you again, feel the weight of your body on his, learn your shape with his hands and mouth. He wants to say all of this, but he doesn’t want to scare you off.
“I haven’t fed you yet,” you say, with a little waver of humor. “You’d remember my cooking.”
John blinks, and then barks a laugh. “Oh, love. I want to devour you.”
You make a little noise, and yes, John is painfully hard now, able to feel the beat of his own blood in his cock against the tight crotch of his pants.
“Is…is that what you’d do?” you ask. “To me?”
“Yes,” he says, letting his voice sink deep into his chest. “For hours, if you’d let me. Sweet girl, I want to spoil you rotten.”
You make a humming sound, high and from the back of your throat. “I didn’t think men really liked that.”
“I’m going to find and kill whoever taught you that,” he promises. “There’s nothing I want more than to get my mouth on you, love.”
“Nothing?” you say, and he grins, recognizing a prompt when he hears one.
“You want me to tell you what else I’d like to do? How I’d like to have you on my cock, drag it out for as long as you can stand? I want you in my bedsheets, pretty girl, making a mess of them because I’m fucking you so good. I want you wrapped around me and holding on so tight, because that’s all you need to do. Because I’m taking care of everything, and all you need to do is take it.”
“John,” you say, shakily.
“Should I stop?”
“I—” you stammer, “I just don’t know how to respond, John. I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell me how that sounds to you,” he purrs. “Be nice to know if you like the idea.”
“…I do,” you say, “a lot, John.” 
And he has to grin at the breathless way you say it. He knows you now—he knows how hard that must have been for you to say. He’s so goddamn proud of you for saying it.
Then, you continue, tentatively, bravely. “What else…what else would you do?”
“Mm. I had some thoughts about that vibrator.”
“No!” you cry, groaning long and disconsolate as he laughs. “No, I thought I’d gotten it, oh, John…”
“It was bright pink,” he says, needling you further.
“You didn’t say anything!” you protest. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be, love. Were you thinking of me, that night?” he asks, breath shallow in his lungs. “Did you get off with that vibrator between your legs, imagining what I could be doing to you?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, John.”
“Except it wasn’t very good, was it, love?” he continues. “Because it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted me there, wanted my hands and my mouth and my cock, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you reply, and it sounds like a whine.
“You can have them,” he promises. “The moment you’re home, I’ll give you everything you want.”
You don’t respond immediately. He doesn’t think he’s pushed too far, this time; rather, he thinks with not a small amount of satisfaction, you might just be recognizing the scope of his offer. 
It’s a moment John always enjoys with potential partners—that quiet, trembling realization that yes, they can ask for anything from him, because he really will give it to them. Because they know that they can rely upon him, that they can trust him. That he wants nothing more than to be someone they can fall into, freed of worry or concern.
“I do want it, John,” you whisper into his ear. “All of it.”
Something uncoils in John’s chest. Appetite, yawning wide, swallowing your confession whole. His balls clench, hard. He wants to see the look on your face. Both when this finally happens—when you give in to him—and right now, as you’re realizing you can. 
John is not one to employ absolutes lightly; he wants to see you now more than he’s ever wanted to see anyone in his life.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, hearing a rasp in his voice. “Will you come to see me when you get home, then?”
“I—” you say, sounding breathless. “Yes. I will, John.”
“Good,” he says. “Now do something for me, pretty girl.”
“Yes,” you breathe.
“I’m going to let you get back to your evening,” he says, adjusting his hips. “And when you lay down to sleep, I want you to think about me. Think about what I’ll do for you. Because I’ll be thinking about the exact same thing.”
“Yes, John,” you say. There’s a…floaty, far-off quality to your voice. It will not take John very long at all to finish tonight.
“Did you bring your vibrator along with you?” he asks.
“No.”
“Pity,” he says. “I guess we’ll both be using our hands, then.”
“Oh.”
He laughs. “Good night, love. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Good…good night, John.”
He says goodbye again, and ends the call. He lays his phone down and sits back, staring up at the ceiling. The football game is long over, some late night talk show playing now. He turns the TV off.
He’s not sure whether it’s going to be easier now to make it through the next two days—or much, much harder.
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A/N: We're almost there.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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Where’s my pen, Lt.?
Summary: You’re PMSing, and Ghost comes to the rescue.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,110
Notes:
Angst and fluff
Dedicated to my ✨ anon
Want more?
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How can you be angry, sad, and tired all at the same time? It’s a never-ending cycle. Every month right before your period, you feel like shit. What did your species do to deserve such a cruel and recurring punishment? What a selfish b*tch that Eve was. So much for taking one for the team.
You’re standing in front of a table with a shattered drone resting on its mahogany top. Fortunately, with the right tools, carbon fibre is easy to repair. Unfortunately, this army base doesn’t have the necessary equipment and personnel for the job. It can be a complex task if you don’t have the resources, especially if you lack the energy and strength to do it just by yourself.
Ghost is sitting in the corner of the room, cleaning his handgun. He looks calm—sirene—as if he didn’t just stare death straight in the eyes a few hours ago. How does he do that?
On the contrary, your movements are sluggish, you have terrible back pain, and you lack the motivation to complete even the most basic tasks. But you have to fix that drone for its next mission.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the drone’s camera lenses. You’re unrecognisable. Your hair is acting up again, with unruly strands forming a halo at the crown of your head. Not only that, but your reflection reveals another issue. You take a closer look at your face. Fuck; another pimple. It decided to settle on your chin this time. Great—just great.
“Everything alright?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts.
“Y-yes, ready to start the process.” You answer with false confidence. Can he tell you’re faking it? Probably.
He says nothing but keeps staring at you with an unreadable expression, his silence giving an answer in itself. After what seemed like an eternity, he stands up and walks towards the door, exiting the room and leaving you alone.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling in relief. Come on, get a hold of yourself. Focus.
You gather your hair up and fix it with whatever you have available in front of you. Now is not the time to be making stylistic decisions. You’re not here to compete in a pageant, anyway. What you need to do is fix that damn thing and fast.
You roll up your sleeves, grab your notepad, and open it on a new page. You pick up your p-
Where’s your pen?
You begin searching the table for your missing item, picking up drone components and putting them back in an unruly manner.
Maybe it rolled off the table!
You kneel on the floor, furiously searching for your pen as if you’d lost your most treasured asset. Where did it go? It can’t just grow legs and walk away! It must be here, somewhere.
You stumble as you rise to your feet, bumping your head on the table’s corner. Dizzy and frustrated, you stay on all fours, attempting to calm yourself with every ounce of dignity you have left.
Until you ultimately give up. So much for the confidence boost you tried to give yourself a few moments ago. You roll around and sit on the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest and burying your face in them as you let out a long, deep sigh.
“Is that part of the repair process, soldier?” Ghost asks as he re-enters the room, “do you grieve the drone first before you glue it back together?”
Today, of all days, he decided to act like an asshole.
“I misplaced my pen, Lieutenant,” you reply, still seated on the floor.
“You’re crying because you misplaced your pen.” He repeats in a deep, monotonous voice.
“I’m not cr- forget it.” You sigh defeated.
You can’t tell him what’s going on inside you. He’ll never understand. Ghost could take a bullet to the shoulder and still manage to climb a mountain while you’re whining about a minor inconvenience.
“Get up.” He commands, and you follow his orders. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and attempt to stand as straight as possible.
He stares at you with those interrogative eyes of his and slides something from across the table. You look down at the purple-wrapped rectangle in front of you.
A chocolate bar.
“I know what’s up,” he says, shrugging as he looks at the chocolate, “you tend to be like that a few days before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know?”
“I keep a log,” he explains. “I might be confident enough setting up an ambush in the middle of the desert, but I don’t push my luck with you.”
You crack a smile and accept the chocolate. “Thank you, Ghost,” you mutter, eyeing the piece of candy. He keeps a log, huh? What a guy.
“About that pen you were looking for,” he continues, “it’s in that patty of yours,” he explains and points at you.
In the what of yours??? You stand perplexed by his last statement until he gestures toward the back of his head. You mimic his actions and chuckle in embarrassment as you realise what he’s referring to. But of course! You used the pen to secure your hair. You exhale in relief and pick the pen off to set it on the notepad.
“You’re a lifesaver, Simon.” You reply.
“Keep your gratitude for the battlefield, soldier,” he adds dismissively. He’s obviously flattered, but he’ll never confess it. “Now tell me, how’s your back doing?” He asks, “still in pain?”
You nod. “Hurts like a motherfucker, sir.”
“Let me see,” he says, and you lift your hair up to expose the back of your neck. He moves in closer to get a better look, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His fingers are gentle as he works his way down your neck, kneading the soreness and pain away with skill. You wince as you feel his touch, but the pain is nothing compared to what it was before he began to work his magic.
“Oh, and, uh, Lieutenant?” You whisper softly, almost inaudibly, as you feel the tension leaving your body.
“Hm?” He murmurs, his strong hands now carefully massaging your shoulders.
“It’s called a bun,” you say with a smirk, “not a patty.”
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glitterjay · 6 months
Note
boyfriend jay giving you a lower back massage because of your pre menstrual cramps and body aches but he gets turned on by you moaning “mhmm right there love ahh” and fucks you until you’re overstimulated, massages and sucks your boobs coz its sore, whispers “i read sex is the best cure for pms” while thrusting deep
warnings: 18+ , mention of period and cramps, overstimulation(? unprotected sex
you were having a horrible day. your period was arriving which you could tell by the painful cramps you were getting beforehand. unable to stand up, you stayed in bed all day, hoping your boyfriend would understand your reason for not doing anything.
just as if you had summoned him, you heard keys jiggle and the door to your home opening. it was a sign that jay had returned home. it relieved you a bit knowing that he would definitely take good care of you.
the footsteps became more and more clearer as he approached your shared room. all you could do was wait patiently for him. soon enough the door made a creaking sound, your concerned boyfriend peeking through the gap.
“love, is everything alright?” you simply shook your head, pointing at your stomach. “cramps are killing me today.” he smiled sweetly, leaving his coat on a chair nearby and joining you in bed. he laid behind you so that you were between his legs, and started softly caressing your lower abdomen.
the feeling had you visiting heaven and beyond. his warm hands making contact with your skin as well as his sweet touch easing your pain. you were very vocal about your current state, letting him know his actions were just what you needed.
“yes baby, right there” you said as you picked up his hand in yours, taking it lower so he could add pressure to the area. on the other hand, jay was having a fight with himself. your moans of pleasure and the closeness of his hand to your heat were not an easy battle. his working pants were growing tighter by the minute, and so, he decided to help the both of you.
-
“hngh! too- too much!”
you dont even know how you ended up in this situation, but it was the best thing that had happened to you all day. jay was being rough. low groans were heard along the popping sound of him leaving your left boob to pay attention to the other.
he had a rough and steady pace, thrusting into you with force while sweetly massaging the rest of your body at the same time. “you know” he bent down, nibbling your earlobe as he whispered, “i read that sex is the best cure”
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thepixelelf · 1 month
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and the universe said,
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07 - "bro, chill"
genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: coarse language. kithing. a liiitle svt on svt violence note: ik it's been a long time please be nice to me <3 (this isn't edited... I'll take a look at it when I have the time)
When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.
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“Where are they?” Myungjun asks as soon as Jihoon and Junhui enter the room they agreed upon.
Junhui braces both of his arms on the back of a chair. “What do you mean?”
“Your soulmate—” Cutting himself off with a sigh, Myungjun pinches the bridge of his nose and answers his own question. “You didn’t bring them.”
Yejung, who was sitting at a table with her laptop, shuts it with a frown. “Why not?”
Junhui shrugs. “I’m just here because Jihoon dragged me out.” He shifts between looking at the three other people in the room. “You guys know I just met my soulmate, right? I don’t like not having them here with me, either.”
“Well then why didn’t you—”
“They don’t know.” Jihoon cuts off Myungjun’s words, then pulls out a chair and drops himself in it. He stares at a random spot on the table. When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Yejung sends a furtive glance Myungjun’s way.
“Don’t know…” She leans her forearms on the table and scoots her chair closer. “...what? That you’re their soulmate? That there’s more than one of you? That you’re famous?”
Junhui snorts. “All of the above?”
At Junhui's quip and Jihoon's continued silence, Myungjun raises a cynical brow.
"You didn't tell them?" Yejung asks, softly shocked. "Why?"
Junhui's eyes skirt to Jihoon; he's unwilling to share his own reasons, though he doesn't quite understand this about himself, either.
Jihoon sighs. "I don't know. It's complicated. Things happened too fast the first time we—"
"The first time?" Myungjun echoes. "So you've been with them multiple times."
“Don’t say it like that.” Jihoon almost pouts, but the facial expression just makes him look angry. “Look. I ran into them when the vocal team was on the way to that radio show. We’d stopped by a cafe and there wasn’t much time and I was so out of my mind that I—” He cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter. I got their number, and then they left. I asked to meet today and we did. Jun was already there for…” With his arms crossed, Jihoon looks over at Junhui, remembering that he still doesn’t really know what Junhui was doing at the same cafe you apparently frequent. Is this the same cat cafe Junhui is always talking about? “…some reason. Then someone started singing, and they told us their soulmate is stupid and annoying because their mark…”
“It’s not like ours,” Junhui finishes for Jihoon, though this only deepens the confusion written on Yejung and Myungjun’s faces.
“If it's not like yours, then how do you know they're your—”
“It's them, Hyung.” Jihoon can't help noticing the hopelessness in his own voice. It's you. He knows it's you.
But you don't know it's them— him.
And he's not sure you want to know.
“Their mark, like, grows,” Junhui explains. “Ours just stay on our hands, but when one of us sings, the notes go all over their arms and neck. Maybe other places — I don’t know — but they obviously don’t think it’s either of us since we weren’t singing when their mark did its thing.”
“So…” Myungjun crosses his arms and taps his finger on his bicep. “They don't like their mark.”
Junhui doesn't nod right away, but he does eventually.
Myungjun turns to Jihoon. “And you think that means they don't like you.”
Groaning and rubbing his hands over his face, Jihoon doesn't dignify that with a response. “Even if they did like their mark, it’s an insane situation. Thirteen soulmates? They’re gonna run for the hills when they find out.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Yejung says, to which Jihoon gives her a dry look and Junhui’s eyes light up. She clears her throat. “We just need to find a way to calmly inform them of the situation — preferably in a safe, comfortable environment.”
Myungjun recognizes a Yejung Game Plan brewing when he sees it. “Basically, what she’s saying is…”
“Let me talk to them.” Yejung opens her laptop again and begins typing away. “We just need to go about this in a calm, logical manner.�� She gives a little nonchalant wave of her hand. “This’ll be easier than a design meeting.”
You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, arms crossed, legs too, as you stare down at the shiny black credit card lying there between you and Heejun. His position mirrors yours, head tilted while he studies the card.
“It could be fake,” you say. Your knee bounces up and down, up and down.
Heejun lifts his head to give you a look. “Why would it be fake?”
“He said he doesn’t believe in banks.”
“It doesn’t look fake.” Heejun reaches out and takes the card, flipping it over in his fingers to read the back. “Looks like any other credit card. We should test it.”
You frown. “How?”
“Uh,” Heejun speaks like the answer is obvious. “Buy something?”
Okay, it is obvious, but the idea doesn’t sit too well with you. “Isn’t that stealing?”
“He gave you the card.”
“Yeah, but the police don’t know that,” you argue. “If I got charged for fraud, it would be his word against mine— no one would believe coffee guy just handed me his black card.”
Without moving his head, Heejun glances up from the card to look at you. "Why would he lie?"
"Um, because he already has? Who knows— maybe this card is connected to illicit activities and he planted it on me to implicate me."
“Which he would do because…?”
You throw your hands up in the air, then let them drop emphatically at your side. “I don’t know! Why did he do any of what he did?”
He raises a brow. “Because he’s a weirdo who likes you?”
“Okay but have you ever given your credit card to a person you’ve only met twice?”
Heejun’s shoulders rise in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to.”
“Seriously?” You can’t imagine your friend going that gaga over a crush, but then again, there was that girl in fourth grade whom he gave all his choco pies to. Heejun loves choco pies.
“Mine would decline though. It wouldn’t exactly impress.”
You lightly shove his shoulder. “Oh come on, it wouldn’t decline.”
“It would if they went over the limit. People only give people their credit cards for expensive stuff. You know that, right?”
The black card gleams up at you, almost tauntingly.
“Expensive stuff like what?”
He shrugs again. “Like a car?”
“You’ve been watching too many CEO dramas.” You exhale and place both hands on the floor with a pointed slam. Standing, you pick the credit card up and brush imaginary dirt off your pants.
“You won’t be so sarcastic when Park Seojoon tells you to keep that thing.”
You roll your eyes as you toss the card into the same trinket dish you keep your keys and other miscellaneous things in. “Isn’t that guy like six foot?”
“So was Huijun,” he counters.
“So are you. Is that all it takes to be a CEO nowadays?” you joke, pulling out your phone. “Height?”
Heejun scoffs, then frames his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That and my devilish good looks.”
“Please.” You tap on a notification from an unknown number. “If that were true, you’d be the one handing out black…cards…”
At the way you trail off, Heejun furrows his brow and walks over to you. “What’s up? Did you fall for another online scam?”
Not this again. “Okay, first of all, that was not a scam, and I did not fall for it—”
“You didn’t fall for a not scam?”
“Shut up. What do you think this means?” You turn your phone towards him, and he takes it from your unsteady hand.
He reads aloud. “‘Hello, this is Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment.’ Did you apply there?”
“No,” you say, then shake your head and wave your hand. “I mean. I don’t know. Maybe. I applied to like five hundred places. But this isn’t that. Keep reading.”
Heejun takes a breath and starts reading like he’s holding a new edict. “‘It has come to my attention that you are in possession of one of my coworker’s bank cards.’ Oooooh, you’re in trouble.” He drags out the last syllable. “‘Please meet me at…’ whatever building, numbers numbers numbers… ‘so I can retrieve it. Please reply to this number for more information, and thank you for your time.’ Hm.”
“What do you think… am I getting arrested?”
Lowering your phone, Heejun gives you a seriously? look over it. “The cops are texting criminals now?”
“So you agree I’m a criminal.”
“You get annoying when you’re nervous, you know that?” When you roll your eyes, Heejun mirrors the expression and pokes your forehead long enough that he pushes you backward. “Look bub, you wanted to give the stupid thing back without using it, and now the opportunity has been handed right to you.” He waves your phone in the air like evidence. “The only question is why coffee guy didn’t just text you himself.”
You cross your arms. “Maybe he doesn’t like me as much as you thought.”
“One more self-deprecating comment out of you and I’m posting those pictures from your twentieth birthday.”
A gasp wrenches from your throat. “You wouldn’t!”
Joshua Hong doesn’t think he has that many unread messages on his phone.
He looks down.
Oof. 682.
Well, it’s not his worst.
Notifications fly by at the top of his screen.
[vernon] where is this guy
[chan] hyung this is important!!
[wonwoo] when have we known that guy to answer anything
[soonyoung] someone text yejung!!
It’s probably not that important, whoever they’re talking about. His members are likely just freaking out over this whole soulmate thing again.
Joshua lifts his hand and stares at his weird, natural — supernatural — tattoo. He still can’t bring himself to believe it.
Soulmates? Really? In this economy? This isn’t Tumblr.
At least… Joshua looks around the dance practice room… He’s pretty sure this isn’t Tumblr.
His phone rings, which is weird since he always has it on silent. Sliding the answer button, he brings the phone up to his ear. “Yejung?”
“Where are you?”
“The practice room,” Joshua answers plainly. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to be today?”
Yejung sighs on the other end of the line. “I said in the group chat that we were dealing with soulmate stuff. Upstairs.”
Ah, so that’s what has everyone in a tizzy. “Alright, okay. Where am I going?”
“Room eight-thirteen—” He hangs up and starts to pack his things before Yejung can say, “Wait, no, nine-thirteen. We'll start when you arrive. Joshua? Hello?”
You check your phone for what must be upwards of the fifth time.
Yup, Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment definitely told you to meet her in room 813, and yet here you are. In room 813. Alone.
You shift on the leather couch. It’s a lounge-like room you’re in. You don’t really understand the purpose of such a room in an entertainment company, but whatever. You’re only here to return something you never should’ve had in the first place.
Although…
You turn the card over in your hand, watching the way the fancy lighting bounces off of it.
Why would Jihoon give it to you if he was just going to get it back like this?
Also, now that you really think about it, Jihoon did say something weird when he left yesterday with Huijun. Something about not letting “the rest” scare you off. Whatever that means.
The rest of what?
Or… whom?
You know Jihoon must work for the company in some capacity. The fact that both he and Huijun were wearing masks makes you think they could be artists…
Oh. Duh. Why didn’t you think of this earlier?
Switching apps, you tap the search bar and start typing. Just as you’re done with the last character of Jihoon HYBE, the door you entered through opens. You hastily slip your phone into your back pocket as you stand to greet the person coming in.
“Hello, you must be…” Your eyes scan over his face. He’s… delicate looking, until you move your gaze downwards a little, and his broad shoulders and thick arms are decidedly not delicate looking. “…Shin Yejung?”
You tilt your head. With no mask on the lower half of his face, he seems familiar. Now this guy must be an idol — you probably saw him on the walls when you were making your way through this maze of a building. 
He just raises a brow. “Who are you?”
“Oh, uh…” You stay standing in front of the couch as he approaches you, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m just here to return this.” Lifting the black card up, you hold it out between you and the man. “It’s Jihoon’s.”
“Jihoon’s?” he echoes, then moves to take the card from you, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 
You both see it at the same time.
His mark, five black lines, clear as day.
Yours, peeking out from where your sleeve is pulled halfway up your hand.
You look up from your not-really-joined hands, then look down again.
No fucking way. 
“Twinkle twinkle, little—” The notes, whatever they are, dance across his mark.
No fucking way. 
You meet his eyes. “...Songbird?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. A few too many seconds.
Then, “So it’s you.”
“Holy—!”
At the same time as you try to jerk away, he attempts to turn your hand over and get a better look. Neither plan really works out. You stumble backwards, and with your hand in his, he gets pulled down with you onto the couch. His free hand shoots out to keep himself from slamming into you, but, persistent as the universe is, your faces end up very freaking close to each other anyway. Warmth from his knee on the couch cushion next to your thigh seeps through your clothing.
He doesn’t move. You don’t either.
For some reason, you feel stuck in place. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but… you just feel like you should be exactly where you are.
You’re almost too close to make real eye contact, so you just watch the way his eyes study yours.
“Songbird?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you’re trying to ask.
He stops analyzing you and finally looks at you. “Yeah?”
“…Are you leaning towards me on purpose?”
His lips (since when were you looking at those?) curl down at the corners. “Are you?”
Slowly, like your mind is trying to catch up to your body, you shake your head. “No…”
He drifts closer. Or you do. Or you both do.
Or something.
Your lips brush over his, and you feel just as much as you hear him whisper. “Then neither am I.”
In the span of a second, his free hand moves from the back of the couch to cradle your jaw, his thumb grazing gently just under your ear. He kisses you, lips moving over yours in a way you’ve felt before, but also in a way you’ve never felt before.
It’s strange.
Not bad strange, but strange in the way that it feels like you’ve just put the last of the groceries in the fridge. It’s like folding that final piece of laundry. Like coming home to the bed you made when you left in the morning.
It’s… satisfactory?
But that’s not the word people normally use when they think of putting their tongue in someone else’s mouth, right?
You’re running out of breath, but Songbird is insistent, and so are his lips, which you find yourself unable to get enough of. He pulls back for half a breath, registers your kiss me again or so help me facial expression, and dives right back in. He’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and you’re soulmates and…
Wait.
Soulmates?
“Wait,” you say, though it comes out more like, “Mmaem” Climbing both your hands up his — whoa — strong arms, you cup his cheeks in preparation to push him away, but he seems to like your touch. He covers the back of one of your hands with his warm palm, and he hums in a way that is not PG-13.
The sound has you melting, unfortunately.
Not for long though.
He’s ripped from you just as quickly as he fell onto you, pulled back by some guy with fluffy black hair, cozy attire head to toe, and… shit, a you’re in trouble glare the likes of which you’ve never seen before. He’s not even looking at you, yet you feel scolded.
“Yah!” he yells at your soulmate, who’s now on the floor. Then, after glancing at you for half a second and apparently finding zero more words to say, he shouts at him again. “Yah!”
Your soulmate opens his mouth, but then he turns to look at the now-open door, which leads you to do the same. A mob of prettyboys stands just outside, some with their jaws dropped and some looking like murder just got legalized and they’re on the prowl.
Someone’s despondent voice shouts, “Hyung!”
You feel like hiding under a blanket. Before your flight instinct kicks in, though, you recognize two familiar faces. “Jihoon?” His eyes meet yours when you say his name. “Huijun?”
One of the many boys among those you don't recognize echoes, “Huijun?” while sending him a weird look.
Someone pushes through the crowd — more like slinks through, occasionally nudging one of the other guys out of the way. His eyes stay firmly on you as he approaches, but you find no fear rising despite that. For some unknown reason, even as this completely unfamiliar man strides over to you with a frankly alarming amount of eye contact, you feel… safe.
Or at least, something close to it.
He kneels in front of where you're still seated on the leather couch, hand resting mere centimetres from leg. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice slightly nasal, but so, so gentle. 
“Uhh…” Self conscious, you wipe at the corner of your mouth with your sleeve. You spot your soulmate catch you doing so, and a look of hurt crosses his face. His own reaction, though, seems to startle him, and his hand rises to gently prod his shiny bottom lip with one of his fingers. He looks confused.
Well, that makes two of you.
Taking in the man right in front of you — pretty, lithe, concerned for you despite his unfamiliarity — you fail to answer his question. “Are… you Shin Yejung?”
He lets out a laugh, relieved, maybe, that you're not not okay. “Jeonghan,” he says simply.
You nod. “Jeonghan.”
At your voice echoing his name, the man’s eyes light up. “Yes?”
“Oh, uh…” You weren’t trying to call on him for anything, but as you study his gaze, you find yourself lost in his confident ease. Something in his eyes says that he knew this would happen.
Maybe not this, exactly — your soulmate has found a spot on the floor and has not stopped staring at it, while the rest of the strangers are still watching you — but taking up the same space as you, facing you, smiling at you with a soft quirk at the corners of his lips.
“Ugh!” A woman’s exasperated voice makes you look up at the crowd by the door. “Get— out of the way, you… ugh—” She breaks through, pushing aside a tall guy who looks like he’s about to cry. “—you men!”
Stumbling to her feet, she rights herself and brushes her bangs out of her face with a huff. “Now, what is—” She spots your soulmate still on his ass and mutters something you’re pretty sure can’t be aired on any broadcasting network. “...my life.”
Your eyes meet hers as she takes another breath. “Please tell me you’re Shin Yejung.”
“Yes, we spoke over the phone.”
“Thank god.” Shaking off all the weird feelings you’d accumulated in the last — what? Two minutes? — you stand from the couch and sidestep Jeonghan. The black card fell at some point during that lapse of judgement (aka kiss), so you swipe it up off the floor and hold it out to her with no preamble. “I swear I’m not a stalker fan or anything. And I didn’t use it, so…”
You glance over at Jihoon, whose expression gives off an oncoming panic. Is he scared to see you? Why? Huijun looks just fine, happy even, with you here. You can practically hear the ‘hello’ he wants to say out loud.
You clear your throat. “Anyway, um. I didn’t mean to, uh…” As you nervously cross your arms, you nod towards your soulmate. “I’m his— I mean, we are… sorry. This is… I wasn’t exactly expecting to find the person who’s…”
Maybe you shouldn’t say you’ve been annoyed by your soulmate since you got your stupid mark. At least not while he’s in the room.
“That’s actually what I brought you here to talk about,” Shin Yejung tells you, a bit like a doctor who’s about to deliver the bad news first. She doesn’t even take the card from you. “Would you like to take a seat?”
You scrunch your eyes shut for a second with a little shake of your head, trying to manual reset your brain because clearly it’s still muddled. “Sorry, what? You want to talk about…?”
The mob of men in the room get hidden from your vision as Yejung strategically places herself between them and you. “Soulmates,” she says.
You look down at the black card, then back up at her again. “Soulmates.”
“Yes. Your soulmates. I was hoping to talk to you alone first.” She sends a pointed look at the men behind her. “But it’s not exactly easy to get these guys to lis—”
“Sorry.” You wave a hand in the air to get her to stop, unable to comprehend any of her words after— “Did you say my soulmates? As in… mates, multiple? Mates with an S at the end? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Remaining calm while your mind spins, Yejung nods. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
“Know what is a lot to take in?”
Yejung opens her mouth to answer, but a voice blurts out behind her, “We’re your soulmates!”
Maybe you haven’t known him long enough or talked to him that many times, but you recognize Jihoon’s voice, and something in your gut suddenly grows sharp. Not painful, but begging for you to feel it. Yejung shifts so your field of view is once again filled by men too pretty to be all in the same room. Jihoon’s standing there, fists clenched at his sides, out of breath for no discernable reason other than…
We’re your soulmates.
Seeing your hesitation, Jihoon huffs and tears a bandaid you never really noticed off the back of his right hand. Even before he completes the motion, you know what must be under the bandage. He holds his hand up, though, and the evidence is very near damning.
Next to him, Huijun smiles and lifts his arm, pointing to his own five lines with his opposite hand. 
Most of the guys behind them show you the same thing. Five lines on the smooth backs of their hands, near the base of the thumb. Dear lord, you don’t even know how many of them there are.
The angry one who pulled the man off of you earlier, at least, just looks lost, like he once had control and now has none. Relatable.
You stumble back a bit. Instinctively, you say, “Songbird?”
Though quite a few of the men seem to perk up at the nickname, only the one you already gave the moniker to truly reacts. Your soulmate — god, one of your soulmates? — looks up at you from the floor and answers, “Yeah?” before realizing he’s even doing it.
“Never mind,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “Ms Shin?”
“Yes?” She steps closer, a worried look on her face.
Jeonghan, too, moves toward you with a similar look on his face.
You try to take a steady breath and fail. “I think I’ll take that seat now.”
Swaying backward, your body falls onto the leather couch. 
You hear approximately ten panicked shouts as you go down.
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