#but you’re only allowed to sing if you’re in the right octave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dokk-fukuro · 1 year

Text

On Call. Pt.1

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya Minors DNI

TW: clit play, lingerie, sexting, dirty talk, afab reader

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

Dazai uses phone sex as one of the ways to tease you but keep you from getting what you want. Oh, this bastard has a good tongue. With absolute calmness, he can maintain a frank conversation with you for a long time period.

“I decided to find out how the day is going with the conqueror of my heart,” Osamu coos, left alone in the agency. “Just remembering how you arch your back under me last night. And your moans... Just angelic singing to my ears, and you know me, I'm picky in my choice of music.”

He knows that you are a little embarrassed by his words, but even the thoughts in your head will not allow to stop. Instead, the young man will continue to tease you.

“I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are when you're in seventh heaven. I’d be very happy to sit you on the table now, pull off your clothes and kiss your skin,” his voice becomes a little quieter, lowers by half an octave and takes on that very seductive husky that drives you crazy. “Get down on my knees in front of you and put my face to your pussy. I bet you already imagine it. Come on, bella, let me hear how wet you are.”

And you really obediently pull off your panties, spread your legs and run your fingers along your wet cunt, collecting moisture on it, hearing a satisfied humming from the other side. Dazai is glad to hear that you are so ready for him.

“I want you to wrap your legs around me while I sink my tongue inside.” You bite your lip, drawing circles around your clit, sometimes pressing on it. “Come on, love, let me hear your voice. Like our last night when I was so deep inside you.”

And you really can't hold back a moan. The bundle of nerves only becomes more sensitive, and every touch to it makes your body shiver a little. You put inside your fingers under his languid exhalation and start to move it. You squirm and shake, when all of a sudden...

“Oh, Belladonna, I have to go now, time waits for no one,” and Osamu leaves you alone with your arousal.

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

When it comes to slutty phone calls, it's not Nakahara that starts it, it's your antics. One day, deciding to tease him, you send him a photo in the fitting room. You are wearing only a set of underwear and an innocent signature “Do you think it suits me?”. What a naughty girl are you. Chuuya takes some time to come up with the most compelling reason why he should leave the meeting room.

“What the hell are you doing?” The red-haired esper hisses through gritted teeth. No, your body does not embarrass him, he is used to your unsurpassed beauty, but the last thing he wants is for someone else to see it. You just innocently coo that you wanted to know his opinion, because “he should pull this underwear off you.”

Whatever you say, Chuuya has problems with self-control. He doesn't need too much to get turned on.

“You wanted to know my opinion, right?” Nakahara smirks unkindly, and you can feel it on your skin. Chills and a herd of goosebumps literally run through your neck. “My opinion is this: my naughty girl wants me to fuck her so that she can barely stands. Choose, doll: we’ll fuck on the table, on the couch, on the bed or on the floor? For such a trick, you will have to try very hard so that I let you cum.”

When he is on edge, you can say exactly and for sure only one thing: Chuuya doesn’t throw words into the wind. And the understanding that he may well take you from the doorway as soon as he comes home makes you bring your legs together. You are already turned on by how aggressive the redhead is in his expressions. And from his heavy breathing, only two things can be stated: he is now alone with himself, and he is trying to calm down his boner in order to recoup on you upon his return.

"So what, doll? I can't hear your answer,” Chuuya almost growls, squeezing his hard cock through the fabric of his tight pants. “Or do you want me to push you against the wall while I thrust into you from behind? The sooner you answer, the better for you.”

Looks like you're really in big trouble.

#My writing #bsd #bsd smut #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #Nakahara Chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #OSAMU DAZAI #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons

869 notes · View notes

idyllicdrop · 9 months

Text

fridays - second touch. | child! fushiguro megumi / child! nanami’s sister! reader

- content - y/n and megumi have become quite familiar with each other. gojo makes a discovery, and nanami is in denial. (~1.6k wc)

- cw - gojo; the tooth fairy/inaccurate culture; slightly ooc teen nanami?; megumi gets a bit overwhelmed; not proofread.

- 2/6 - previous - full series (in progress) -

- - -

“too slow!”

with a hard thud, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer once again tripped over a child that stood at not even half his height. gojo could only point and let out a nasally laugh at the fallen young fushiguro,

“shut it,” megumi dejectedly mumbled, quickly moving to get up off the ground, “you said i was improving last time”

“hmm…” the mentor’s voice went an octave lower as he continued, “and i used that exact same maneuver last time.”

megumi did not dare to say a word now. it seemed like gojo was genuinely scolding him - a first since they’ve started training. the young boy almost wanted to get angry since gojo’s most recent disappearances played part in this delay, just almost. megumi figured it was actually good to know gojo was getting serious instead of-

“you’re distracted~”

that sing-songy tone made megumi lose all hope; it was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. it seemed gojo actually isn’t taking things seriously. rather, he was planning to do something truly irritating to his mentee’s livelihood.

- -

“gojo-san left again?! that’s the third time this month!”

you stared in disbelief at megumi, who just arrived to your brother’s desk and opened up a familiar red notebook,

“it’s like this every month.”

megumi seemed to pay you no mind in favor of focusing on his homework. in reality, he couldn’t stand to say more words than necessary to you. otherwise, that ‘panic’ feeling from 4 weeks ago comes back, which he would rather avoid. especially in front of nanami, someone who megumi respected and was silently filling out paperwork across from you two.

“really?! when do you ever have time to train then?”

“he’s normally more free on saturdays.”

“oh! i seee…” your genuine curiosity was something he could easily entertain. the questions you posed were mostly direct enough to give a quick answer.

“are you sure you’re okay with going alll the way to saitama by yourself today?”

your concerned expression, and memories from a week ago caused megumi’s face heat up now: memories of you being awfully persistent about joining him on his almost hour long journey home, which while nanami disapproved of for your safety, megumi also declined because he’s ‘done it many times before.’ the odds were up against you, and ultimately you settled with walking him to the torii gates of jujutsu tech and ‘no further’ - a request he personally made.

“i-i’m sure.”

“but fushiguro-san, doesn’t the train at least get boring??”

the palms of megumi’s hands began to perspirate, and he realized he may have been too active in the conversation today. he was sure that if he attempted to reply to your question, his words would trip and stumble. while the young boy was mentally deciding if he should take that risk, the worst voice of all called out from behind,

“megumi-chan~ time to get to work!”

you gasped, stood up, and sped walked out of megumi’s field of view to greet the face you were long due of seeing,

“gojo-san!”

“y/n-chan!”

standing right before the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern era, your head cranked up as you pointed to your mouth,

“i lost another tooth!”

“ooo, well remind the tooth fairy to pay her dues!”

“that’s what i’m doing right now.”

nanami and gojo stiffened as the latter awkwardly continued,

“oh- uh… megumi!” the targeted young boy finally tilted his head in his mentor’s direction, “you need to be at the north field in 5 or i’ll tell y/n about your biggest secret!”

“ehh?!”

gojo’s deflection skills worked like a charm. you stood there dazed, thinking about whatever megumi's secret could be, which allowed nanami and gojo to not confront the fact that you found out the 'tooth fairy' was just gojo. another thing that crossed your mind was the cruelty of gojo for putting megumi on the spot like that.

megumi, who was now swiftly walking out the office area, kept his head turned down. his messy black hair over his face was purposefully obscured from the visible spectrum, but a certain six-eyes user could see beyond that.

“bye fushiguro-san!” you called out to your friend, not particularly expecting a response. as soon as he seemed out of earshot, you pouted at gojo and accused, “that was mean.”

“oh c’mon, aren’t you curious?”

“nope! if fushiguro-san has secrets he wants to keep, then there’s no reason for me to know if he doesn’t want me to!”

gojo let out an exaggerated sigh as he crouched down, quickly pulled something out of his pocket, and then discretely extended a crisp note out to you before whispering,

“just go get yourself some treats before nanami notices.”

“yay!”

you giggled, purposefully breaking the intended secrecy of the exchange. before nanami could say anything, you sped walk away, knowing your favorite vending machine was just outside the building. from a distance, you called out, “you are forgiven now, gojo-san!”

“gojo-san, i already told you not to give her sweets,” leaning back in his desk chair, nanami stared up at the ceiling while pinching the bridge of his nose and saying, “it’s not healthy for a child.”

“well if you’re so concerned about her than you should be interested in little megumi’s secret!”

“no i should not.” nanami immediately recognized gojo’s redirection tactics and tried to go straight back to the topic at hand, “please just do not give her-“

“megumi-chan’s got a crush on your sister~”

this time, gojo was successful. visible confusion filled nanami's expression right after. the blonde teenage paused for a moment to consider gojo's statement, before he then tiredly responded,

“they’re kids, gojo-san.”

“and one’s in love~”

“fushiguro is eight.”

gojo clicked his tongue and placed a hand on his hip before quipping back,

“you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the signs!” gojo's other hand was now dramatically placed on his heart as he continued, “little megumi is always willing to talk to her. do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to talk to me??”

nanami sighed before noting, “that is not exactly an exclusive experience when it comes to you.”

“not to mention, he gets all red like a tomato around her!”

that nanami didn’t know how to reason away when gojo initially acknowledged it. he’s no doubt noticed, but also just never thought much of it...

“fushiguro doesn’t seem to have many friends…” nanami's new train of thought allowed him to regain composure, “especially of his own age. y/n is the only one around and they just started being friends. it makes sense if he gets nervous sometimes.”

with a cheeky smile, gojo turned around and started heading out, “i’m now 6 minutes late to training because of you! also, don’t get mad at me when the love birds start sneaking around behind your back!”

with renewed reassurance in his own stance, nanami easily brushed off gojo’s claims, and went back to paperwork.

- -

next friday, gojo satoru was called away, again.

“no homework today.”

you forcefully shut the red notebook before megumi could even fully open it. as he stood in momentary shock, you continued,

“gojo-san told me you haven’t seen the whole campus yet, so today i’m gonna show you around!”

that’s how the two of you ended up sitting by a koi pond, alone. most of the tour had been dead silent on megumi’s part. besides pointing out the names of different buildings, you talked nonstop about memories you’ve had around campus with other jujutsu sorcerers, students, and staff. you have had far more interactions with them in all of your brief and few visits over the years, compared to megumi's constant and prolonged ones these last couple of months. the dichotomy was telling of your different personalities.

the almost two hour walk around campus ended at your favorite spot: a koi pond. it was rather secluded and brought utmost peace. you ceased to speak for a few minutes when you arrived, simply enjoying the scent of fresh water and clean bamboo stalks. save for a buzzing bug here and a small splash from one of the fish there, a comfortable silence held the two of you now resting on a bench-shaped rock.

“i love it here.”

your interruption gave megumi awareness of the situation. you two were alone, quiet, and that felt comfortable to him, for a few fleeting moments. but then, that one panicked feeling was now slowly creeping - a contrast to its usually violent arrival. you continued in a soft tone,

“nii-san said this is the most beautiful place on campus.”

beautiful. something about that one word caught megumi’s attention. especially as he had the courage to now look at your tranquil expression, noticing your pupils constantly shifting as they tracked a koi swimming down below. all of a sudden, a conspicuous smile stretched across your face before you blurted out,

“y’know you can say something if you want, right?”

little fushiguro megumi immediately felt a lump lodged in his throat as he froze and stammered,

“um, i…”

the two of you were unknowing that a pair of teenage boys were now approaching your direction. one with a permanently plastered grin and the other with furrowed and tight eyebrows. the latter asked,

“was there even a point in asking me to help you find them if you already knew where they were?”

gojo only playfully hummed in approval as the two rounded the last corner to their destination. from the beginning of the small path leading to the pond, they could see the two children they were looking for. the two were sitting side by side, separated by only a couple inches of empty space.

one was stuck gazing at the other, mouth slightly dropped open, and the young boy spoke just loud enough for the girl beside him to hear,

“i-i like it here too.”

the teens observed that after megumi’s mouth finished moving, y/n’s posture perked up and she turned her head towards him. in the process, she noticed the audience out of the corner of her eye, and made a point to lean in, hand resting in the space between them, finger tips slightly grazing his before she whispered,

“i like being here with you, fushiguro-san.”

- - -

- the tooth fairy cw was mostly bc i didn’t think to look up if japan even has a tooth fairy child’s myth until after i already wrote the scene (and i love said scene very much). anyways, apparently they do not. whoops, my bad.

- also, in my mind, y/n uses gojo-san not to specifically respect gojo, but to mimic nanami :)

- also this is the last of them as little kids! megumi’s ‘troublemaker’ teen era is next.

- taglist - @hisheadismountfuji (feel free to ask to be added!)

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fluff #nanami kento #gojo satoru #childhood friends to lovers #y/n just wants to be friendly and let megumi to open up more #she thinks he reaally struggles with it but the truth is his ‘panicky’ feelings are too strong around her :)#gojo is a menace #(and a matchmaker)

250 notes · View notes

spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Note

have you ever read a detailed post about the glee cast’s singing voices? like all about their technique and stuff? reading your reaction to the ‘vocal coach reacts to glee’ video makes me want to know more!

Hmmmm, not really! Not from a professional vocalist POV, I don’t think. (That I’m aware of. This does remind me there was one vocal coach in fandom, and she hated Blaine, and I wasn’t too fond of her, or her analysis, so I won’t point you in that direction.)

My background is in music, but not in vocal performance. But I can give you a quick rundown of cast’s musical abilities if you like, though they won’t be huge on the technical side of it.

ETA: I started this a while ago before I started doing the music retrospective - I’ll probably try to explore a little more as I do those. If you guys want more conversation about one person in particular, let me know!

But for now...

Matthew Morrison: Is a classically trained musician with a very good voice. It’s a shame Will was such a tool, because Matthew Morrison was very talented, had the ability to do a lot of great things with his voice. People joke about his rapping -- but I think this stemmed from the issue that his background is in musical theater -- which teaches you a cleaner and more traditional way of singing -- opposed to a pop or rap style. He doesn’t have the grit that rap often has, which makes it a little too much like a Kid’s Bop version of something. When singing musical theater, though, he really shined.

A number that showcases ability: Make ‘Um Laugh

A number that isn’t so great: Ice Ice Baby

Lea Michele: Lea does have a very good and solid voice. She’s also been classically trained. The one drawback is that it hinders her a bit on pop music, she lacks some of the grittiness often needed on a lot of the pop songs. She also starts to lose some of her classic training as the show goes on (which I think is a shame) so that she can get some of the shine off her voice to make a transition to pop music.

She has one vocal tick that drives me crazy, though -- she has a tendency to slide into her notes instead of hitting them dead on, which gets worse as the show goes on, and it makes her sound a little screech-y at times. But for the most part -- she is really good.

A number that showcases ability: Don’t Rain on My Parade

A number that isn’t so great: Ooops...I Did It Again

Amber Riley: The cool thing about Amber is that you get to hear her grow as a musician as the show goes on. She had already started to get vocal lessons before the show started, but at the beginning, she was still a bit raw and unrefined in her technique. But you can tell she did practice, and her voice is developed beautifully as the show goes on. She was one of the best, well rounded vocalists on the show. She had a good handle on pop and R&B music, but she could sing musical theater rather clearly, too. She has great breath support - and can belt numbers out while still retaining the quality. Can’t say enough good thing about Amber’s voice.

A number that showcases ability: Someday We’ll Be Together

A number that isn’t so great: Sweet Transvestite (It’s not bad - but it’s my least favorite Mercedes solo.)

Cory Monteith: Cory wasn’t a vocalist. And, to be completely honest, I thought it was some kind of joke when they introduced him as some kind of hidden musical gem when Will hears him singing the showers. He did really well with classic rock that’s allows not only for a weaker voice - but is often not as technically hard. And I have to wonder if Cory got lessons, because he did get a lot better as the show went on, and I think his season 4 work is great!

I will say that sometimes they pushed his voice a little too far. A lot of times songs were either too high for his range and he often sounded like he was straining. (The most notable of which is A House is Not a Home - which is far too high for him.) That said - I think he did reasonably well along side Lea - mostly because often sang pop duets.

A number that showcases ability: I’ve Gotta Be Me

A number that isn’t so great: Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore

Chris Colfer: Chris is such an interesting study due to the uniqueness of his voice. He’s got a huge range both in terms of genre and literal range of voice. He can sing quite a few octaves. He’s got a great, clear sound, too, which is why he’s great with theater numbers. Interestingly, Chris’s voice did drop over the years, and while I know people love his higher range, he has a gorgeous lower range that wasn’t used as often (and is often my favorite.)

The one (nitpicky) issue was that Chris’s voice ended up getting pigeon-holed. I know singing Diva-Broadway songs was his schtick - but it would have been nice to hear him sing a bigger variety of songs. He wasn’t the strongest on non-ballad pop music, but they also didn’t give him that very often.

There’s also the fascinating unusualness in that, Chris could really sing duets very well with people -- but in group numbers, his voice sticks out like a sore thumb, and he was often left out of some of the more general songs because of it. His voice just doesn’t texture very well - which is why I get why they did what they did.

A number that showcases ability: Being Alive

A number that isn’t so great: I’ll Remember

Kevin McHale: I feel like people are often surprised when they sit down and think about it, but Kevin has a great voice. He has a solid range, and he’s able to do pop music very well (I believe it helps that he was in a professional boy band for years.) Not sure if people noticed - but he’s often the lead on group numbers that don’t need to be related to specific story or character points. Which is a bummer for Artie’s story - but if you’re a fan of Kevin’s voice, you get a lot to choose from.

Kevin was also able to handle a lot of the musical demands that I think some of the other males weren’t? He’s a much better singer than Cory - and could handle leading a full number. His voice isn’t as unique as Chris’s and can texture really well. In addition he was fairly versatile. He might have been the best rapper the show had, lol.

A number that showcases ability: For Once In My Life

A number that isn’t so great: Addicted to Love (personal taste choice - I just don’t like the song.)

Jenna Ushkowitz: Jenna is another one who is classically trained. She has a strong, solid voice, which was unfortunately not showcased all that well on the show, and because of that, I’m not sure how she does on a wide variety of music. I do think she sounds a little generic - but not helping is lack of being featured.

A number that showcases ability: I Don’t Know How To Love Him

A number that isn’t so great: Gangum Style (She does fine - but the fact that they made her do it in the first place...)

Dianna Agron: The interesting thing about Dianna is that she has a really nice low female voice. The fact that they never gave her any punk or harder rock was really a shame, because I think she would have done really well with that. The funny thing is that, more so in the beginning, they show tried to make her sing songs that fit her character - but weren’t necessarily great for her voice. I feel like it wasn’t until late season 2 did they start really using her voice for the better.

A number that showcases ability: Never Can Say Goodbye

A number that isn’t so great: It’s A Man’s, Man’s, Man’s World

Mark Salling: Mark had a really solid voice - that often lent itself well to folk and acoustic really well. He was good with softer pop and classic rock, and the show showcased that pretty well. I think, in general, Mark was a much better vocalist than actor, and the show often picked good music for him to sing - which helped with his character. I don’t have a whole lot to say, only that I think he was underrated as a vocalist, but I get it - with all the other baggage that comes with talking about Mark.

A number that showcases ability: No Surrender

A number that isn’t so great: Fight For Your Right (to Party) (I don’t think it’s bad - I just hate this song.)

Naya Rivera: Naya is a little tricky. I think she has a good, smoky sound to her voice that makes her excellent at things like pop and R and B. (Shame she didn’t have a good jazz number to do on the show - she would have been great at that.) I think she was really versatile, though, and handled her Broadway numbers really well. I do think she was somewhat pinched and nasal at times - and while I do think this was a stylistic choice, to me it’s not my favorite type of vocal sound. But I do think she was really good at the numbers she was given, and was one of the most talented female vocalists on the show.

A number that showcases ability: Back to Black

A number that isn’t so great: Alfie (I think I may dislike the song more than her singing on it.)

Heather Morris: Heather wasn’t a singer, and I do think it showed at times. She often had to have her voice autotuned more than anyone else on the show. That said - she did do Britney Spears really well, and I think she deserves credit for that.

A number that showcases ability: I’m a Slave 4 U

A number that isn’t so great: Dinosaur

Chord Overstreet: Chord’s background is in country - and that shows a bit through his singing - he’s got a bit of twang in his voice, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He’s a fun singer. I don’t think the show knew exactly what to do with him (voice or character) but there’s a lightness to his singing that makes him easily adaptable to pretty much anything you throw at him.

A number that showcases ability: Red Solo Cup (You think I’m joking - but I think this is the most fun Chord has singing a song.)

A number that isn’t so great: Girls on Film (I think just by default of me liking everything else better.)

Darren Criss: Ah, Darren, where to even start. The thing about Darren is that he may not be the strongest singer, his voice is a little wobbly at times, and his range is somewhat limited, but his showmanship is just completely beyond nearly everyone else. Darren has the unique ability to draw you in with his singing and hold you captive. There are technically better singers on the show - but Darren just has this amazing ability to really sell a performance. And I do love his voice, even if there are some limitations to it. I really could gush about Darren’s performance abilities, but I’ll refrain...

A number that showcases ability: Teenage Dream (Both Versions)

A number that isn’t so great: Piano Man (Which isn’t bad - I just think the show had done it better, and it’s a rare time that felt like Darren was kind of phoning it in.)

A quick run down of others, but first a quick aside - as they started adding people in, vocal ability starts being a factor. I think a lot of the newer characters could sing better than they could act, which was both helpful and a hinderance. I think we began to get more solid musical numbers as the show went on, but sometimes acting wasn’t always top notch - and across the board, old and new, hitting a combo of acting and singing ability didn’t always happen.

Harry Shum Jr.: Not really a singer - but the show often played to his strengths, and his few songs played off the fact that he wasn’t a great singer to great aplomb.

Jane Lynch: Can hold a tune, even if her voice isn’t the best - is really great at musical comedy.

Jayma Mays: She has more singing ability than the show allowed to showcase, however, she’s another one whose voice was really unique, and doesn’t texture very well.

Damien McGinty: Is actually a very good singer. However, he’s very generic, too - which makes him a little on the bland side.

Sam Larsen: I think he was fine - I don’t think he sang enough on the show for me to make much of an impression one way or the other.

Alex Newel: Fucking Fantastic! Alex might be one of the strongest vocalists on the show - has great range, energy, and vocal control.

Melissa Benoist: Her voice tends to lean on the pop-ier side, but it’s a solid voice, and her work on the show was pretty good.

Jacob Artist: Has a strong voice, and could sing genres that weren’t often featured on the show (like hip-hop and R&B).

Blake Jenner: His voice is fine, but like Damien McGinty, it’s generic and a little bland.

Becca Tobin: She has a very quirky voice that brings in a different and unique sound. They didn’t use her much, though, so it’s hard to comment.

Noah Guthrie: An amazing singer, has a really unique sound, but is able to do blend in well with others.

Samantha Ware: Another amazing singer. She’s in full control and can do really great things with it.

Billy Lewis Jr: Has a good, solid voice. Not as strong as Guthrie, or some of the other guys, but he’s a lot of fun to watch.

Laura Dreyfuss: Like Becca Tobin - has a uniqueness to her vocal quality that makes it stand out a little, but she’s still a solid singer.

Marshall Williams: His vocal ability is okay. It’s better than his acting ability. I’m slightly confused how this dude got cast, tbh.

#Anonymous #if you guys want to me to elaborate on someone - please let me know!#it's hard to do everyone since there are so many #this post took forever to write up #that's how s.o. sees it

75 notes · View notes

luminescencefics · 3 years

Photo

what happens after

Here’s the second part of my HS Fic Slam submission that is completely unnecessary and written (somewhat) under the influence from the NYE bottles of champagne I consumed last night! You don’t have to read the first part for it to make sense, it can completely stand alone. As for warnings: it’s complete and utter smut. Enjoy! x

3k word count

My masterlist

***

Nestled in the far corner of the bar inside the Chateau Marmont hotel after your third (or was it fourth at this time?) tequila on the rocks is not how you intended to spend the remainder of your Friday night. But alas, you were hidden in plain sight in the dimly lit room, right leg crossed over left against the expensive velvet lounge seating, sipping gingerly on your (definitely fourth) cocktail as you wait for your phone to vibrate on the sleek wooden table.

The bar seemed to wake up once the clock struck midnight—a normality amongst the best late night spots in Los Angeles. Situated just off the Sunset Strip, you find yourself not surprised in the slightest that this was the destination Harry requested to meet you at. It’s the quintessential spot, if you truly stop to think about it—close enough to the liveliness of downtown LA but not quite in the epicenter of it all, the ideal amount of faint lighting to make the mood just an inch heavier, and the perfect amount of anonymity to ensure that sneaky iPhone pictures aren’t taken against your will.

While you wait, one hand grasping the half-filled glass and the other calmly resting on your leather-clad thigh, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through the handful of messages exchanged between you and Harry from this evening.

It all started after the concert when his security guard handed you a barely legible piece of paper with a phone number hastily written on the bottom. Just as the crowd began to disperse, you composed a coy text message that he had answered almost instantly. And once you read the words, I’ve got to finish up at the venue for a bit. Mind waiting at the Chateau Marmont bar for me? I’d love to have that drink x, you were calling your Uber without hesitation.

As if he could tell that you were growing a bit impatient, a new message appears underneath your last response. It was simple, reading, I’m here, and before you could inform him that you were waiting towards the back of the room, two pairs of long legs hidden underneath striped black and white trousers become visible in your periphery.

You look up immediately, smiling when you realize it was Harry.

He looks different standing near you than he did up on the stage an hour and a half earlier. Even though he still had that wildly messy hairstyle, and he still filled out his clothes incredibly well, and he still looked larger than life—you can now make out smaller details that are otherwise impossible to see from the crowd. His eyes are a hazy mix of blues and greens and golden browns and he had a faint layer of stubble surrounding his mouth and when you look a bit closer, you can make out birthmarks that litter his face in an appealing way.

“Hi,” you say slowly, realizing that Harry was making the same identifications that you just were.

“Hi, sorry if I kept you waiting long. Want another?” he asks, eyes begrudgingly falling from your own to the last few drops of tequila sloshing against the bottom of your glass.

When you nod steadily, he turns around with one last smirk before you realize that you hadn’t even told him what you were drinking. But when he reappears, holding two identical glasses and sliding into the open space next to you, the smell of expensive tequila floats towards your nostrils and you’re suddenly impressed.

“Thank you,” you whisper, smiling slightly before bringing the rim to your lips, holding eye contact while you slip slowly.

You try not to notice the bob of his Adam’s apple as he mirrors your movements. You do notice, however, that he angles his body so that his right elbow is leaning against the table, causing his kneecaps to rest against your thighs. And when he flings his left arm over the back of the velvet lounger just gracing the tips of your shoulders, you’re not subtle when you ogle at the crisp Calvin Klein tank top underneath his black blazer.

Your name falling from his lips brings your gaze back to his face. “Thanks for meeting me,” he says, his voice dropping a few octaves. You’re not sure if it’s from the amount of singing he did earlier in the evening or something else entirely, but you are sure of the shiver it causes to fall down your spine.

“Did you think I’d say no?” you ask, lips quirking up into a tantalizing smirk. If he’s going to tease you with his body being a bit too close to yours, you definitely weren’t going to miss out on the opportunity to do the same.

The smug grin decorating his face tells you that he knows exactly what you’re doing. And when he leans a bit closer, uttering softly, “I’d be devastated if you had,” you have a feeling that drinks will be over much faster than you assumed.

After a round of fingers dancing against body parts and lips whispering flirtatious remarks and eyes lingering too long on chests, your assumptions prove correct when Harry closes out his tab with the bartender, calling his driver to finish drinks over at his house in the Hills.

When his hands grip yours as you steady yourself out of the corner booth and towards the front entrance where a black town car is waiting on the pavement, you make sure to rub your thumb against the cross tattoo on his skin. It seems to have worked, because once the two of you are sitting in the backseat, Harry makes sure to keep your body close to his, so that your left side is flushed completely with his right. And when his large palm grips at the leather adorning your inner thigh, you’ve had enough of this flirtatious banter. You want more. You need more.

Just as the partition closes, you turn your body so that your nose is brushing against his rigid jawline and your lips are grazing the thick vein protruding from the side of his neck. Your right foot wraps around his ankle, and with your hand squeezing his bicep you ask, “How long is the drive?”

Harry squeezes your thigh tighter, until you can practically feel his nails ripping the fabric. “Less than fifteen. Think you can wait that long?” His voice is scratchy and his breath is warm against your forehead and you honestly aren’t sure if you can hold off any longer.

“You’ve been making me wait quite a lot this evening,” you tease, the hand not holding his bicep drawing a tantalizing path down the planes of his chest over the thin fabric of his undershirt.

The whine erupting from the back of his throat causes your eyes to fall back towards his. “Promise I’ll make it up to you.”

And before you can spit out a remark, his left hand cups the underside of your jaw and his lips are on yours. It’s not gentle at all—it’s all frivolous tongue and nipping teeth and muddled moans exchanged between parted mouths. The hand on your thigh moves up higher and higher until he’s just underneath your core, and just when you think he’s going to relieve the burning inside of your stomach, he keeps his hands where they are. He’s teasing you just as you were teasing him, and it’s enough to make you growl against his lips.

Before you can swing your right leg over his hip and begin nipping at his neck, the car comes to an abrupt stop. Harry removes his lips from yours, his thumb rubbing against your swollen lower lip in awe. The door suddenly opens, and you don’t even take in your surroundings as he practically drags you through the front door and up the stairs into his bedroom.

The room is dark safe for the moonlight flooding through the balcony doors, and it’s enough to allow you to locate his lips and bring them back towards yours. The only thing you’re focusing on is the location of his bed, and once his lips fall to your neck and you can peek over the shoulder you're gripping intensely, you see it in all its king-sized glory.

You step out of your heels, bringing your palms to the front of Harry’s chest so that you can splay them along his body before sliding underneath the arms of his blazer, pushing it off his shoulders so that his arms are free from the expensive fabric. You take in his decorated arms, the slope of his biceps, that firmness of his chest, and when your eyes read the personalized embroidered words along his ribs, your thighs clench at the sudden warmth flooding your insides.

Bringing your lips to his neck, you simultaneously suck at the perspired skin as you push him backwards towards his bed. And once the back of his knees buckle against the mattress, you push him down so that he’s sitting with his legs spread out and his bluish greenish golden brown eyes completely darkened over with lust.

When you’ve got him where you want him, you cross your arms at the bottom of your tight bustier top and fling it over your head, throwing it aimlessly on his floor. The tight shirt did not require a bra, so when you stand up fully, completely bare torso in Harry’s vision, the moan that falls from his throat is enough to make the warmth between your legs permeate through your lace underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he chokes out, hands wrapping around your waist so that he can bring you closer to his mouth. And when his tongue creates a line from your naval all the way up to the underside of your breasts, circling your nipples until your fingers pull at the root of his hair, you both can’t help the moans that escape your mouths.

Harry’s thumb and forefinger expertly pop open the button of your pants, pulling the zipper down without moving his mouth from your chest. His two large hands reach towards your back, slipping underneath your pants as he palms your ass, bringing the material down past your thighs until they’re pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your black thong.

You fall to your knees after you step out of your pants, fitting in the space between his thighs easily. His hands are raking through your hair as your fingers toy with the clasp of his tight trousers, and when your chin rests softly on his right thigh, lips practically hovering over the erection hidden underneath his pants, you decide to bring your teeth to the zipper and pull it down. Your nose brushes against the massive bulge between his thighs, and before you stand up properly so that he can remove this layer of clothing from his body, you make sure to bring your lips to his clothed length and press a slow kiss to it.

Harry stands up faster than you’ve ever seen him move all night, practically ripping his trousers as he flings them from his body. His shirt is next, up and over his torso before you can even blink. It falls somewhere along the bottom of his mattress, and before you can admire his broad chest and muscular stomach and sinewy hips, you push him back so that his head falls against the pillows and you can straddle his waist easily.

Your tongues tangle for a bit, hands gripping and clawing at the other’s skin as you grind your hips against his. You can feel his cock rubbing against your dripping core, and when his fingers begin to toy with the bottom of your underwear, just barely touching where you need him most, you’ve decided that you’ve had quite enough of his teasing.

So to take matters into your own hands, you press two warm palms against his chest, removing your lips from his and sitting up straight along his waist. This position causes his cock to completely line up with your core, and for a minute, you revel in the feeling of it and how it causes the knot in your stomach to tighten ferociously. You can tell he feels it too, with the way his front teeth are practically ripping the skin of his lower lip and the way his hands are bruising the fleshy skin along your hips.

“What’re you doing?” he asks gruffly, noticing how your right hand reaches for something behind your back.

When you feel your fingers grip the cotton material of his undershirt, you smirk inconspicuously in his direction. “Would you say you’re open to most things? Sexually, I mean,” you ask, your hands still behind your back.

Harry cocks his head to the side, smugness radiating off his expression. “Sure, love. I’d really love for your legs to be open, though. More specifically, me in between them, if we could hurry along to that part.”

You giggle, and when his hands reach out behind your waist to find what’s behind your back, you reveal his shirt and notice the confused look on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you whisper, removing his hands from your waist and bringing them to interlock above his head around the thick wooden post of his headboard. “We’re getting to that part.”

And when you tie his shirt around his wrists in an expert sailor’s knot, you’re the one wearing the smug grin.

You resume your position, mouth nipping at his lower lip as you pull sensual kisses from his lips. And when you peer into his eyes to make sure that he’s comfortable, you start to drag your tongue between his pectoral muscles, down the lines of his stomach, and through the patch of hair just above the waistline of his briefs.

When your fingers remove the final layer of clothing from his body, his hard cock springing upwards and resting against his stomach, you don’t try to hide the satisfied hum that leaves your lips.

“Mmm,” you say, bringing your thumb to his leaking slit and slathering his wetness along his length. “I knew you would be big.”

The moan that rips through his throat is feral, and when you bring the pad of your thumb to your swollen lips and suck it off, turning your palm so that you can lick it generously, Harry feels as if he’s about to burst.

You begin to pump his length slowly at first, watching the way his wrists struggle against the fabric holding him back. Smiling to yourself, you bring your lips to the tip of his cock, circling your tongue slowly around the slit before wrapping your mouth around him completely and beginning to work your way down his impressive size.

“Holy shit,” Harry groans once your nose brushes against his navel. And when you peer up at him, nodding ever so slightly to indicate that it’s okay for him to begin to rut against your mouth, you don’t miss the way his eyes roll into the back of his head as his hands itch to tangle in your hair.

After a few pumps in which you end up gagging, you remove your lips from his cock, watching the string of spit that connects you both. Your eyes are watering and when you look at Harry’s face and see the way his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are blown out and his chest is heaving sporadically, you wipe your lips with your thumb and bring your mouth towards his.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your lips, nipping at your lower lip as you remove your underwear from your legs.

“Condoms?” you ask once your knees are surrounding his hips.

“Nightstand, second fuck—” he pauses, eyes widening when you brush the tip of his cock against your pulsing heat. “—Second drawer.”

You nod, locating the condom easily and ripping the foil packet with your teeth. Reaching between you both, you make sure to hold eye contact as you roll the latex down his throbbing length.

“Ready?” You ask, one hand holding the base so that you can angle it perfectly towards your entrance, the other gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Please,” Harry begs, and it’s enough to cause you to sink down easily onto him, due to the dripping heat between your legs.

Your moans echo off each other as you sit completely on his waist, his cock submerged inside of you. It takes a moment to get accustomed to his size, and when you feel your walls fluttering around him and take in the strained vein pulsing on his neck, you begin to rise up on your knees until you can sink down on him again.

“So good,” Harry grunts, beginning to raise his hips to meet yours once you’ve developed a rhythm that suits you both. Your hands are gripping his chest, nails carving crescent moons into the skin as you bounce on top of him, feeling more filled than ever before.

With every raise of his hips, Harry’s wrists pull down against his restraints as he tries to angle himself inside of you. And when an impressive thrust causes your head to fall back on your neck, the distinct sound of fabric ripping reverberates through the room.

“Thank fucking god,” Harry says, throwing his tattered shirt to the floor and bringing his arms around your waist, flipping you both expertly while you’re still inside of him.

You’re shocked for a moment, the sudden quickness of the last few events catching up inside your clouded brain a half step behind Harry’s. When his hand grabs your right ankle and brings it over his shoulder, and the other grips your waist as he thrusts into you in an impressive new angle, it’s enough to cause your eyes to shut tightly and your mouth to fall open in a guttural moan.

He pulls out of you completely before pressing into you again so intensely that you’re almost convinced your hips will be bruised. And when he does it again, your hands wrap around his bicep as you whine, “Oh my god. More Harry, please more.”

Harry snaps into you with a rhythm that causes your toes to curl in the air. He’s pulling noises from your mouth that you weren’t even possible you could make, and when the warmth inside of you begins to feel all-encompassing, you know that you’re getting closer towards the end.

Suddenly, a warm hand wrapping around your neck causes your eyes to dart open. You blink and find that the smug look is back on his face, and when he thrusts into you while simultaneously squeezing the flesh of your neck, you feel the warmth turn into a full-blown blaze inside of you.

“Knew you were a dirty girl,” Harry says against your lips, squeezing your flesh and feeling his cock throb at the strangled moan that rips from your throat. Your hands fall over the ones around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze tighter so that you can finally reach your end, and when he does it once, twice, it’s enough to cause you to shake underneath him, feeling completely numb.

With a few jagged ruts inside of you, Harry suddenly stills until his hands fall from your neck and his lips take their place, huffing an exasperated breath into your skin.

After a few moments, he rolls off of you, laying beside you with one hand against his heaving chest and the other gripping the sheets on the other side of his body. You lay there, mimicking his position and trying to come to terms with the fact that Harry Styles was quite possibly the greatest fuck of your life.

And when you stand up to use the restroom, tiptoeing along the hardwood flooring towards the connected en-suite, you can’t help but giggle when your feet step on the tattered fabric of his undershirt.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks from the bed, leaning up on his elbows so that he can see what you’re holding up in the air.

“Sorry about your shirt,” you call out, smiling when you notice the shit-eating grin covering the lower half of his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. And just before you’ve disappeared behind the door, he adds, “I’ve got proper restraints we can use when you’re finished. I promise they won’t break.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry fic #harry imagine #harry styles x reader #1dff #1dffupdates #harry styles blurb #harry x y/n #harry styles writing

439 notes · View notes

ppersonna · 4 years

Text

flat tire - kth | m

↳ summary- how do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim taehyung x reader

↳ word count- 2.2k

↳ genre- smut, light fluff lol

↳ warnings- oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, dirty talk

↳ a/n- a small little drabble that @taetaewonderland suggested i try my hand at! i was originally gonna use yoongi but i thought tae would be a great fit ha ha no pun intended. enjoy!! send in your requests! message, dm, comment, i love all forms of communication!

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses as the car bumps violently. You clutch at the seat belt across your chest as your boyfriend navigates the car off the road and onto the side, allowing it to come to a stop with the awful thumping sound slowing with it.

“What happened?” You asked, slightly dazed. “Did we lose a tire?”

Tae chuckles despite his frustration. “Honey, if we lost a tire, we would be way more fucked than we already are.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as the brunette boy unbuckles and exits the car. You hear him grumble as he walks around the perimeter, kneeling down in the back to check out the damage.

He returns momentarily and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Left rear tire is blown out,” he sighs as he scrolls through his phone. “I asked Jungkook to fix it a week ago. Dumbass…”

You sniffle and rub at your arms. Without the heater in the car, the chill of the night is creeping up your skin.

Tae’s fingers tap away a message, pause, then continue for a moment. He’s clearly involved in a conversation with someone, and you hope he gets help soon.

“Jimin and Jungkook are on their way with the spare,” he notes as he sets his phone down in his lap. He finally peers over and looks at you attempting to warm yourself and smirks. “Are you cold?”

“A little, yeah,” you sigh as you look at the strapless dress on you that you chose for your date night out.

“Awww, poor baby,” he pouts playfully. He’s making fun of you, you can tell, and you stick your tongue out at him.

You cross your arms tighter around your body and puff out a distressed breath of air.

“Don’t be mean. I wore it for you!”

Taehyung’s pout curls into a smirk.

“You did? All cute for our date tonight?”

You nod, eyes big. “I wanted it to be special since you’ve been gone so much and we haven’t seen each other.”

Tae’s eyes fill with an unnamed emotion that shoots straight through your heart. He places a hand on your cheek, caressing the gentle skin there before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

Kissing Tae never gets old. If you were a religious person, you’d say it’s like seeing the face of god. The sky opens, the heavens sing. He tastes like strawberries and cream. He makes you feel like all your problems didn’t just melt away, but that they never existed in the first place.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight when we get home,” he murmurs after he pulls away. “We’ll order pizza. You can do a striptease for me. We’ll watch a Disney movie and fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh at the smile he has on his face—the one that says he thinks he’s truly thought of the best date ever.

“But,” his finger trails down your neck as he continues. “We have a bit before the guys get here. We could have some fun while we wait.”

His deep voice goes even lower, hitting an octave that strums your core and plays just the right note. It generates heat within you.

“Here in the dark?” You ask timidly as his hands caress your shoulders.

“Would you rather it be light outside?” He jokes.

A blush blooms on your cheeks. You’ve never done anything in public with your boyfriend before. Your timid nature dictates you keep that for the confines of your locked bedroom. It was even hard to do anything with Yeontan, your shared pet, in the room.

But you couldn’t deny the idea sounded thrilling. Invigorating even. It lit a match inside you and the look on Tae’s face was the gasoline to make it erupt into an inferno.

“I’ve always wanted to try, erm,” you fumble for the right words. “... road head?”

Tae grins even bigger, his boxy smile on display.

“Look at you,” he beams. “My naughty little kitten.”

While you’re adventurous as the next person in the bedroom, you’re a timid one in public. But you’d risk it all for the man next to you.

“I guess it’s not technically road head if you’re not driving,” you sigh as Tae sits back in his seat.

“Oh darn,” he tsks. “Guess it’s just regular head then. On the road.”

Tae makes you laugh and the knot of anxiety loosens inside you. He’s your boyfriend, your protector and your safe place. There’s no reason to be anxious.

A coy smile grows on you as you tug your dress down to expose your bare breasts. You can tell it throws Tae off by the double take he has to do.

“Shit!” He gasps as he moves towards you. His mouth is pulled to a nipple like there’s a gravitational pull. The second his mouth latches onto a hardened nub, you’re gasping for air and tugging your fingers through his clean, long hair. You used to ask him to get a haircut, but now you’re not so sure. It makes for an excellent grip.

“Baby,” you whine as he nibbles gently. His hands cup both breasts and massage them gently. He sucks, tugs, pulls, and swirls his tongue around the nipple and it makes your gasps echo around the car. Your silk panties are nearing water-logged, and your legs press together to sate the burning you feel.

Tae switches to the other nipple and presses the flat of his tongue against it. It’s lewd, the way he wantonly stares at you while he licks at your nipple like it’s a melting ice cream cone. He does the same to your cunt, when he spends hours devouring you whole. The thought has you aching for more.

“Please, Tae,” you whine. “Let me take care of you. I need you.”

Tae chuckles with his mouth still eagerly wrapped around a tit, but he pops off easily and licks his lips.

“You can’t just whip your titties out and not expect me to suck them,” he shrugs.

He moves to unbutton his slacks but your hand stills him. He looks at you for a moment in confusion, but the smirk on your face says it all. You want to be the one to undress him.

“Be my guest.” He leans back in the chair and pushes it away from the steering wheel, giving you ample space to get down to business.

You’re nearly salivating as you can see the straining of your boyfriend’s hard cock against the expensive slacks. His eyes are tracking you, you can feel them burning into your skull, as your delicate hands rubs the length of him. His gentle intake of breath is the only way you know he’s affected. He’s trying to keep himself cool, not lose control too soon.

The button and fly are easy to do, but you take your time doing them. Tae’s mouth falls open with each brush against him. It’s nearly torture, and he’s so turned on by this behavior of yours that he can’t find it in himself to care about the way you’re teasing him.

He hisses as his cock springs free with one hard tug down. The cool air of night feels like December on his hot, aching cock but he knows soon he’ll be enveloped in your humid mouth.

“So pretty,” you coo as you lean down close. A finger trails up and down the vein running underneath it and Tae shivers.

“Yeah, you are,” he sighs as he presses his head back against the headrest, eyes falling closed at the gentle sensation. “Fuck, even your teasing feels good.”

Pride swells in your heart as you rub a finger around the thick head, smearing a trail of his pre-cum with it. Tae can’t hold back the soft groan and gasp at the feeling.

“Is this teasing?” You ask coyly, knowing the answer already.

“Mm,” he sighs. “I dunno. You’re the expert.”

It makes you giggle softly, and you gently allow your tongue to fall out of your mouth and lick coquettishly at the tip and smeared pre-cum your finger recently vacated.

“Shit!” Tae’s legs jerk a little at the feeling of your fiery tongue. His hand grips the side of the car door as his eyes squeeze closed, tight.

Your smirk is nearly exploding off your face, and you finally find it in your heart to grant the man mercy. You suck the tip of his cock into your mouth, allowing your tongue to lick and swirl around the head. You’ve sucked your boyfriend’s cock—in the privacy of your own bedroom, that is—so many times that you can unlock him like a code. He’s weak for the attention to the tip. Couple it with wet strokes of his shaft and the man is rewarding you with a hot load of cum.

“Oh, baby,” he whines. “Baby, baby.”

He loses ability to say anything intelligent—moaning your name and the various pet names he deems appropriate for the night. Tonight’s name is ‘baby’. Sometimes it's ‘kitten’. Sometimes it’s 'dirty bitch’. He must be in an affectionate mood.

His hand falls to the back of your head, gripping lightly at your hair to form a ponytail in his grasp. He gently guides your head down, encourages you to begin the descent further to take him in. You allow the direction and steel yourself as your throat expands to take him all the way in. It’s slow enough that you don’t gag—you and Tae have trained your throat now to take him deep.

You come to a rest as you bottom out, nose pressed against the skin of his thigh. You swallow gently, allow his cock to feel the wave of muscle work its way down his cock. Taehyung nearly jumps out of his seat at the feeling.

“Holy fuck,” he puffs an exasperated breath out. “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking fast.”

You swallow again, as if to say ‘that’s the fucking point’, and Tae whines loudly. He grips at your hair tighter and pulls gently, begging you to begin a pace on his cock.

You can’t find it in you to fight it. You want to give in to him, want to make him cum so hard and good for you that you’re drinking it.

It doesn’t take long to set a pace, a hand moving in to assist your plight as you grip at the length you cannot fully suck into your mouth. Your lips suction and tongue continues its swirling barrage on any square inch of your cock it can find.

Tae moans loudly, head falling back against the headrest again with a much louder ‘thunk’ than the one previous. His hand massages at the roots of your hair, a gentle touch that thanks you for your current service.

“So g-good,” he gasps. “Love that hot little mouth, shit.”

Tae’s always vocal in bed, and it’s one of the things you love about him most. You love that he’s incapable of shutting up, ever. He talks in his sleep, in the shower, and when your mouth or cunt are shoved full of his cock. It’s so Tae that it reverberates a feeling of love and affection for the man in your heart, despite the lewdness of the act you’re currently engaged in.

Your free hand moves to draw circles and lightly hold his balls, rolling them gently in his hands. This is the secret combination in the key to cracking Taehyung’s code. He thrills for stimulation everywhere, anywhere. Scratching your nails down his chest as he fucks you, gripping his thighs, cupping his balls. It sends him reeling.

“Oh, my god!”

You’re correct, yet again. His cock hardens even more in your mouth, the tip straining against your tongue as it fights against the urge to cum. He’s close.

“I’m close! B-baby! Ohhh, fuck. You wanna swallow me, baby?”

When has that ever been a question he needed to ask? You nod, cock still deep inside your throat, and the motion makes him keen.

“O-oh, god.”

His legs are tensing, you can feel the way his thighs steel against themselves to prepare for the oncoming storm of his orgasm. You increase your speed, hand working furiously in time with the rhythm of your mouth. Tae’s singing your name like it’s a prayer, like you’re a god who just saved his crops from famine and drought. Maybe you are.

“I’m cumming! Fuuuck, baby! ‘M gonna cum!”

You already know it’s coming before he announces—you can tell by the way his cock head pulses and thickens in your mouth. Hot stripes of cum pool on your tongue and down your throat as Tae’s deep voice groans loudly throughout the car. His hand grips your hair tightly, near the verge of pain, but you don’t care. All you care about is sucking him until you’ve cleaned up every last drop.

Your tongue laves around the surface of his head still lodged in your mouth and Tae hisses at the overstimulation. You pull off his length languidly, smirking as you visibly swallow and open your mouth for the boy. He grins through his heavy panting.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by a knock at the now steamy window and the shine of a phone flashlight. Tae scurries to do up his pants and you’re squeaking in fright as you tug your dress back over your exposed breasts.

Tae rolls the window down and Jungkook’s pink face is at the other side, with Jimin behind him—arms crossed.

“You guys are fucking gross,” Jimin grumbles. “I told you we wouldn’t take that long.”

Taehyung grins as he lets a hand fall onto your soft thigh.

“Had to pass the time somehow.”

#bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #taehyung #kim taehyung #v #bangtan bts #bts bangtan #bts fic #bts fluff #heartsforbts #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanheadquarters

1K notes · View notes

fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind Us - Part Nine

Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since you were 4 years old. The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do. But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.

A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.

Words: 2671

Warnings: Violent imagery, traumatic experience, death of family members, blood and gore, language

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT

I lay as still as I could in my bed, not allowing myself to make eye contact with him. I knew that if I did, tears would flow and he would pull words from me that I wasn’t ready to say.

“Y/N,” he prodded. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Come on.” His words overflowed with irritation and his body was tense. “Just spit it out!” His words came out gravely and a few octaves lower than his normal voice. I had heard him this irate before, but never with me.

“No,” I said, my lips tight as I wrapped my arms around myself. I turned my face towards him, taking in his wide eyes and his gaping mouth as he stared at me in disbelief.

“No? What do you mean, no? No isn’t an option here, Y/N.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, making a mental note to shower as soon as possible. “I can’t. Don’t ask me to.” I pulled my knees into myself, ignoring the twinge of pain it caused as my muscles stretched.

“Too bad,” he decreed, his voice full of imagined authority. “You’ve gotten us here by keeping secrets. By going it alone. That isn’t an option anymore. Just…” His tone softened as he took a breath. “Tell me, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

I inhaled deeply, feeling my chest expand as I attempted to calm myself down. Dean hadn’t known about my past. Not one detail about my family or the monsters that took them from me. Just that I had grown up in the life. Everything in me wanted to keep it that way, but knowing the insistence on his face, I knew I had to give him something.

“They were the ones that killed my parents.” I began, watching him tilt his head like a confused puppy. “The pack. The wolves we came here for.” I took another deep breath in through my nose in another futile attempt to keep myself calmer than I ever could be. “We were at a museum that day. Some anatomy thing where you could climb through a heart like a jungle gym. Spent the whole day there. But, on the way home, the tire blew out or something. Car broke down.”

I swallowed hard now, desperate to stop reliving my worst nightmare. “Dad got out to check it out. Told my mom to stay put. It was some backwoods road. There weren’t any streetlamps and the nearest gas station or house was miles away. The car phone had died on the way to the museum that morning and cell phones weren’t really a thing back then.”

I watched as Dean shook his head, absorbing every word I’d just said.

“Wait, how long ago was this?”

I attempted to rid myself of the giant lump that had now formed in my throat. “I was four.”

The look of pity on his face was heartbreaking and I had never imagined it would ever be aimed at me.

“Dad was outside maybe five minutes when we heard it. Gnashing teeth and ripping flesh. And this gurgling sound. Like a clogged waterfall.” I rubbed my neck with my hand, wishing the conversation was over. “Mom got out to help. But she hadn’t even closed the passenger door when her head was smashed through the window. Hard enough for the blood to spray onto me in the backseat.”

“Shit, Y/N.”

I shook my head, dismissively. “I was four,” I shrugged. “I didn’t even know to scream. I just waited for it to get quiet and went and looked for my parents.” I reached out and grabbed the cup of water that sat on my bedside table, taking a slow sip. “Dad’s body was still on the ground by the hood. The gurgling sound was still there.” I looked up at Dean again. “It was his own blood. They’d ripped his throat open. Too impatient or hungry I guess. But Dad’s eyes were open. Completely dead inside, but open, starring at me, while his corpse finished bleeding out.”

“You don’t have to-“ I cut Dean off.

“Mom was a little further away. Her, they were quick about at least. Snapped her neck when they bashed her head in I guess. Still ripped her heart out though. Left her body on the side of the road.”

Dean stood up and took a seat on the sliver of mattress that my bent legs had left exposed at the foot of it. His hands were running up and down my thighs in an attempt to soothe me.

“What happened to you after that?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “I wandered for a while. The pack was long gone, and I didn’t know where we were. What to do. Just walked. Until I couldn’t walk anymore.”

“Wait, you walked? Like little four-year-old you, wandering the woods alone? How long?”

I pulled on my earlobe, yanking it between my thumb and forefinger. “Few days I guess? Some locals found me passed out and starving little less than a week later.” I laughed morbidly at myself. “If I had walked ten more yards, I’d have made it to their front door. Just my luck I guess.”

Dean’s silence filled the room as he clenched his fingers around my knees. “I shouldn’t have made you….I’m sorry.” I turned my head from side to side, dismissively.

“Not your fault. I probably should’ve told you a while ago.” I gave him a forced smile, restraining the tears that threated to get loose.

“Well, whatever the past, you ganked ‘em in the end. Not that I approve of how you did it, but you got them.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Sweet victory.” My tone was insincere as I leaned the side of my face against my crossed arms. “Dean, I’m pretty beat.”

“Yeah, of course,” he accepted. “Get some sleep. I’ll just head-“

“Don’t leave,” I begged, grabbing at his hands as they began to move away from me. “Please. Stay? I’d feel better if you stayed.” I hadn’t realized how terrified the premise of being alone would leave me. “I mean, only if you want to.”

Dean ran his fingers over my face, tucking in a stray bit of hair. “Always,” he whispered.

I moved to lay down, turning myself onto my side to make room as Dean spread himself over the bed. “Need me to scootch over?”

He looked at me as if I were crazy. “It’s your bed, Y/N. And you’re the injured one. I’m not that big of an ass.” He tucked me into his side, resting his hand on my shoulder as his arm would around me. “Sleep.”

I shut my eyes slowly, taking in a deep breath and filling my lungs with the distinct scent of Dean. But as soon as I began to drift off, the sing-song voice of a nurse came in declaring that moment to be the opportune time to check my vitals.

I whined in response as she pressed a button on one of the screens resulting in the cuff around my arm to start squeezing. “Can we be done with that?”

Dean had gotten out of the bed but stood just next to me, continuing to hold my hand.

“Sorry sweetie,” the nurse answered. “Every four hours until you’re discharged.”

“Then I’m discharged now.” I answered coldly, my eyes squinting shut.

“Not funny,” Dean chastised, squeezing my fingers tightly.

“Not joking,” I followed up. “I want to go home. Now.”

I looked over to the nurse whose stunned expression told me she would not be on my team on this one.

“I mean it. I’ll sign whatever papers I need to, do whatever. But I’m going home. Now.”

Releasing Dean’s hand, I threw back the covers and kicked my legs off the side of the bed, quicker than I had intended. The dizziness had me wobbling as I stood, getting onto my feet. Instantly, he was at my side reaching to help steady me. I held my hand up, keeping him at a distance.

“Damnit, Y/N.” Dean muttered under his breath but just loud enough for me to hear him. I glared at him in response.

“Leaving against medical advice is not usually a good solution. Especially in your condition. You’re going to need physical therapy and a lot of care. We can provide that for you.” The nurse was doing her best to convince me to stay, but with my mind already made up, I began opening cabinets until I found the bag with my clothes in it. One of the boys had brought my duffle to the room for me and I quickly found a set of clothing that was clean enough.

“I get it,” I snapped back. “Not a good idea. I’m leaving against medical advice which is obviously against medical advice.” The frustration in my voice was tangible as I slipped a pair of black yoga pants out of the bag and began dragging them up my legs. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s what I’m doing.”

The nurse breezed passed me as she muttered under her breath that she’d get the paperwork. I pulled out my oversized nightshirt; an old white band tee for a concert that I hadn’t attended in a city that I’d most likely never been to. But it smelled like home and wrapped me in the warmth that I so desperately craved.

“Hold this for me, will you?” I held my duffle bag out towards Dean, expecting him to grab it but was left wanting. Slowly, I raised my eyes to his and lifted my eyebrows, inclining my head as if to ask him what he was waiting for.

“You realize this is insane right? What, do you have a death wish or something?” I rolled my eyes at him in response, tossing the bag to the ground as I let go of the straps I had been holding onto and turned my attention back to the cabinets, ensuring all of my personal items were accounted for.

“I think that’s everything. I’ll sign the papers, and then we go, yeah?”

Dean chuckled louder than I was used to as he shook his head and said, “No way.” I looked at him expectantly, resolute with my decision.

His amusement died down and his face grew serious as he wordlessly pulled out his phone and brought it to his ear.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, she’s trying to leave the hospital. Yeah,” he paused. “I know. She’s being a stubborn ass.” He said the words pointedly as he glared at me. “Well then, Sammy, you try to talk some sense into her cause she’s not listening to anybody over here!”

Rolling my eyes again, I began removing the various tubes and monitors that still connected me to the machines. The oxygen came off without a hitch, and the blood pressure cuff was simple enough. But the IV that was plastered to the back of my hand proved more difficult.

“I’ll do it,” the nurse sighed angrily as she stormed back into the room, setting a small stack of paperwork down on the table as she did so. Her fingers expertly pulled at the tape and removed the needle from my hand without a fuss. “You’re going to need a ton of fluids,” she began giving me my discharge instructions as she handed the paperwork over to me.

Dean hung up the phone and began listening intently, hovering over me as he did so.

“I mean a ton of fluids. No coffee, tea, soda. I mean water. Electrolytes. Fluids that aren’t caffeinated or carbonated. There’re four prescriptions in her. One for a very strong antibiotic, one for an anti-inflammatory drug, strong pain meds, and one to help with the nausea that the others may cause.” She pointed out each on the paperwork as she went through it. “Take them. All of them.” Her intense gaze and stern tone let me know she wasn’t exaggerating. I nodded affirmatively.

“Good,” she responded. “Bed rest for the next few days. No strenuous movements,” she turned her gaze to Dean then. “If she pops another staple outside of the hospital, her chances of infection or bleeding out again are very, very high.” He nodded in acceptance.

“You need to do physical therapy. Hire a therapist, do simple exercise, use a cane, whatever you need to do. Just keep moving a little each day.”

She turned to the last page. “This form releases the hospital from any and all liability. It confirms that you’re aware that you’re leaving the hospital against the best of medical information and against the physician’s wishes. You’ve every right to do so but, just so we’re clear, we think this is a very bad idea.”

I gave her a small smile. “Yes ma’am, I am.” I picked up the pen that was laying on the table where the paperwork had been and signed my name quickly. “All done?”

The nurse shook her head disapprovingly. “That’s all the paperwork and you’ve already taken the liberty of disconnecting everything. I’ll go get a wheelchair and you can be on your way.”

I thanked her as she walked out of the room and could feel Dean’s eyes boring into the side of my face.

“What?” I snapped, turning my head quickly to look at him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“So, I’ve been told. But there’s that whole thing about it takes one to know one.” I smiled at him wickedly as I waited for the nurse to return with the wheelchair. It only took a few minutes, and I was settled into my wheeled escort, being pushed gently through the halls towards the exit.

“Sir,” the nurse spoke up, gesturing to Dean. “You may want to run ahead and pull the car around, so she doesn’t have to wait outside long. It gets pretty chilly a night.” Dean did as he was asked, putting one foot in front of the other in a quick jog as his bowed legs carried him ahead and out to the parking lot.

“You’ll be the death of that boy if you keep carrying on like this you know,” the nurse joked. “Or he’ll be the death of you. Either way, just be careful, yeah?” She rested her hand on my shoulder as I laughed, giving her my word.

I heard the familiar growl of the Impala’s engine pull up just outside the door as we triggered the auto sensor for the automatic sliding doors. Dean was running around the back and pulling the passenger side door open when we rolled up. The nurse locked the wheels of the chair in place as I slowly pushed myself up to standing, using Dean’s offered arm as leverage to assist me.

The nurse handed him my folder full of paperwork which he then securely held in his hand. “If I could get her to stay,” he began. The nurse shrugged in a what-are-you-gonna-do fashion and waved at me. I lazily returned the goodbye as I rested my head back in my seat and reached for my seat belt. Before I could grasp it, Dean’s hand was pulling the belt across my lap, gingerly tucking it into the buckle and adjusting the belt across my lap, avoiding my injury as best as he could.

Shaking his head lightly, he slowly leaned his face towards mine, capturing my lips with his own as they worked against me. The heat of his mouth breathed into my own as his tongue grazed the tip of mine, and the breathtaking feel of his soft, full lips against mine was dizzying. He pulled away slowly, pressing one last chaste kiss against my lips as he did.

“Keep kissing me like that, and we’re going to need to pick up one of those oxygen tanks,” I joked.

“Stubborn. Ass.” He breathed out the accusation as he closed my door for me and walked around to the driver’s side and taking his seat.

To be continued….

Part Ten

Taglist (Tag requests are open):

@vicmc624 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @carissime72 @deans-baby-momma @formulafun @woodworthti666 @yetanotherreader @crashlyrose @hobby27 @gabby913 @jxackles @polina-93 @supernaturaladdicts @fandomoverdose666 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @tazzi-baby @acertainhero @lilulo-12 @slamminmine @mimaria420 @kittenofdoomage

(Desperate attempt to get my faves to notice me)

@thinkinghardhardlythinking

@smol-and-grumpy

@wonder-cole @watermelonlipstick @that-one-gay-girl @waywardbaby @luci-in-trenchcoats @holylulusworld @cockslut-padalecki @calaofnoldor

52 notes · View notes

trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

The Irish Collaboration

Kevin and Daniel get together in person for the very first duel game of Super Smash Bros in the same house. Amidst the craziness, Kevin gets a great idea from the chat.

This is just a fanfic I whipped up in a matter of an hour. And don't worry: I felt like doing this. I'll be giving myself a break! I promise! I just really wanted to get this out!

Kevin had flown to Japan for a while to hang out with Daniel (Aka: RTGame) after COVID had been mostly eradicated. With both of them double vaxxed, Daniel and Kevin were allowed to hang out without needing to quarantine for 10-14 days!

Kevin and Daniel were now going to record their first videogame together. Well, obviously this wasn’t their first game together. But it would be their first game ever played in the same house! And wanna guess what they played?

If you guessed Super Smash Bros, then you are correct!

Daniel smiled and grabbed his switch controllers. “Alright. Let’s get this video started!” Daniel declared.

Daniel switched the live channel to the webcam and the video game Beside him, was Kevin trying to get his switch controller synced to the console.

“Alright, I think my controllers are synced.” Kevin told him.

“Perfect.” Daniel reacted. “Did you bring your baby too?” Daniel asked.

“You bet I did.” Kevin grabbed his wii baby and placed him in between Daniel and himself.

“Alright! Gilbert will sit beside your little cursed one.” Daniel decided.

“Yay! Awww, look they’re playing!” Daniel reacted as he started bashing Kevin’s Wii baby.

“Awww, how sweet.” Kevin responded.

Daniel sat his baby down beside the knocked over baby, and started choosing his character. “I think I’m gonna choose...Obama.” Daniel decided.

“Oooh! Hahahahaha! I’m gonna choose...Turg.” Kevin decided.

“Alright! Go Turg! I believe in you, Turg!” He joked.

“Awww, thank you, thank you.” kevin replied kindly. “Now DIE!” Kevin shouted right as the game started.

“NO!” Daniel yelled.

And: Kevin and Daniel were off!

[5 rounds later]

Kevin growled as he was beaten again.

“Curse you and your amazing gaming abilities!” Kevin joked.

“Oh, don’t sweat it. You’ll win one, I’m sure.” Daniel told him.

Then, Kevin turned to read the comments people were writing.

{TICKLE HIM!}

{Get him back! :D}

{Go for the ribs!}

{Tickle him till he pees!}

Kevin widened his eyes and laughed.

Daniel turned to him. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh just some stupid comments.” Kevin replied, before turning back to the camera and winking.

A new game had just begun! King Dedede! Vs. Ganondorf! The players immediately started smashing each other.

Kevin turned to the comments and read them rather quickly without seeming too obvious.

{is he gonna do it?}

{LOL Tickle his little tootsies!}

{Is Dan even ticklish?}

{Tickle your lad!}

Kevin smiled and wiggled his fingers towards the camera. Then, he returned to the game so he didn’t notice anything.

“Dude, you’re not really even fighting me.” Daniel reacted.

“I know, sorry.” Kevin told him.

“I might have another win under my belt!” Dan reacted.

“Yeah, maybe.” Kevin replied.

As it would turn out, Dan would win yet again.

“Oooh! Man, I am destroying you!” Dan reacted, cracking his back and smiling.

“Not for long!” Kevin declared.

The next game was on! It was very much the same characters as before: Ganondorf Vs. King Dedede! The fight started out rather normally.

“Yes! Take that! And that!” Daniel declared.

“No!” Kevin yelled.

Daniel and Kevin were halfway through the game when Dan had struck.

“I am so- GaaAAH!” Dan screeched like a dog, and curled in on himself. “KEVIN!” He yelled.

“What?” He asked, squeezing his sides more.

“NOho! Kehehevin yohohou cheheheateher!” He laughed quietly at first.

“You’re the one winning all the time!” Kevin reacted.

“Ihihit’s nohohot- OHOHO GOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter jumped a few octaves as he was tickled up in the armpits. “QUIHIHIT IHIHIT!” He laughed more.

“Then quit winning!” Kevin declared.

Dan was laying on the other side, kicking the babies as he tried to push Kevin’s fingers off him.

“Okay, he’s ticklish in the armpits! The armpits are a bad one! Where else do I go?” Kevin asked the chat.

“Wahahait whahahahat!?” Daniel asked.

“The chat wanted me to get revenge!” He told him. “And LOADS of people wanted it.” He added.

“WHYHYHYHY?!” He asked.

“Oho, you know why.” Kevin replied.

Kevin moved to his stomach to see if it was ticklish at all. And sure enough, it was!

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!” He begged.

“But tickling you is so much fun! And I’m not just saying that. Tickling you is actually more fun than I expected.” Kevin told him and the chat.

Daniel was squeaked and squealed the moment his belly button was even touched.

“NOHOHOHO FUHUHUHUCK!” He laughed.

“Just laugh it up, Dan. It makes the world a little more happier. Unless you don’t like happy, that is.” He joked, referring to his videos of destruction.

“FUHUHUCKING HEHEHEHEHELL! LEHEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHO!” he begged.

“Let you go? And risk you beating me again? I don’t think so!” He teased. “Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!” He teased.

“YOHOHOU’RE SOHOHOHO WEIHIHIHIRD!” He reacted.

“Why thank you, Dan! I know I’m weird.” Kevin replied. “And the chat is also weird for suggesting such a thing.” He added.

Dan was wiggling around, laughing hysterically and flailing his arms around. He had dropped his controllers onto the couch by now, and had completely lost all composure.

“WHYHYHY AHAHAHARE YOHOHOHOU SOHOHO GOHOHOOD AHAHAHAT THIHIHIS?!” Dan asked.

“I have a sister, Dan! I’ve had countless tickle fights before!” Kevin responded.

Dan pushed him off. “Wehehehe’re on cahahamerahaha!” He told him.

Kevin grabbed his foot. “And that hasn’t stopped people before, has it?” Kevin asked.

“NOHOHOHO! NAHAHAT MYHY FEHEHEET!” He begged.

“Oh? Not the feet? Not these pair of feet?” He asked, tickling them with his fingers.

“NOHOHO FEHEHEHEHEET REHEHEHECOHOHORDIHIHING!” He begged.

“Oh…” Kevin stopped and moved to the bottom of the couch. “Here:” He sat down on the ground in front of the couch and held onto his foot. “No feet shots.” He promised before resuming back to tickling his foot.

Dan covered his mouth and squealed, trying to keep his laughter in.

“Ooooooh, being resistant now?” He asked.

Daniel shook his head, throwing his bouncy hair around in the process, and kept his hand on his whole mouth.

“I see, I see. Looks like I’ll have to pull your toes back…” He pulled his toes back, “And tickle your little footsie this way!” He declared, tickling his exposed toes.

Daniel squealed again and tugged on his foot. “NO!”

“Ohohoho YES!” He started scratching and skittering quickly to finally get him to break.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIHIT!” He finally laughed. “IHIHIHIHIT’S SOHOHOHOHO BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!” He screamed!

“Kitchy kitchy koo!” Kevin teased.

“DOHOHOHON’T SAHAHAHAY THAHAHAHAT!” He ordered.

“Don’t say what? Kitchy kitchy kitchy koo? A kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!” He teased more.

“NOHOHOHO!” He laughed.

“Your feet are surprisingly very ticklish!” He reacted. “I’m genuinely surprised.” he admitted.

“SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHP!” Dan ordered yet again.

“Shut up?! You expect me, the man behind the baby abuse and Jim Pickens killings, to shut up?!” He reacted.

Dan shook his head.

“In fact, I am just gonna further annoy you by singing my favorite song while I tickle you!” Kevin declared.

“WAHAHAHIT!” He begged.

“Nope!” He started singing. ♫Country rooooooaaad! Take me hoooooome!♫ he sang proudly with a smirk.

“STAHAHAHAHAP THAHAHAHAT!” Dan ordered.

♫To the plaaaaaaace, I beloooooong!♫ He continued to sing.

“WHAHAHAHAT THEHEHE FUHUHUHUHUCK!” Dan shouted.

♫West virginiaaaaaaaa, southern maamaaaaaa!♫ He continued to sing.

“HEHEHEHEHELP CHAHAHAHAHAT!” He finally begged towards the chat.

♫Take me hoooooome, country rooooooaaaad.♫ Kevin finished.

“YOHOHOHOU’RE BEHEHEHEIHIHING CRAHAHAHAZYHYHYHY!” Dan fought.

“Well, looks like we have to start it aaaaaaall over again!” Kevin declared.

“NOHOHOHO!” Dan begged and pleaded. “CHAHAHAHAT PLEHEHEHEASE HEHEHEHELP!”

♫Country rooooooaaaad! Take me hooooooooome♫ Kevin started singing all over again.

And Dan would wind up never getting saved by the poor chat. In fact, the chat room would only encourage it further with their comments!

{YEEEESS!}

{This is such chaos...I love it}

{Someone get them both a record deal!}

{Dan could be the next Michael Jackson!}

{♫COUNTRY ROAD TAKE ME HOME♫}

{I just joined...Wtf?}

#ticklefic #irish lads #callmekevin #rtgame #ler!kevin #lee!daniel #fluff

8 notes · View notes

omgreally · 3 years

Text

The Apprentice: Chapter 4

Read on AO3 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: E for Explicit, Soon Wordcount: 9k+ Summary: Peli Motto took you off the streets of Tatooine to become one of the best apprentices she’s ever had - but honestly, the DUM droids are setting the bar pretty low. Still, you work out well for the first few months until an armored Mandalorian stranger lands with a busted-up ship and a strange magic baby and, well, you’re intrigued. Even though you know you shouldn’t be. Peli’s always teling you to keep away from anything hot but sometimes, to fix something, you have to stick your hand straight into the fire.

---

“How’s it going in there?”

You jump, whacking your head on the edge of the open panel. You’ve been working inside the Razor Crest for hours and it’s been cramped, hot and sweaty, and this is the last thing you need.

You wonder how anyone wearing so much metal can move so silently. Shouldn’t it clink, or something? But no. The Mandalorian is silent. The Mandalorian is stealth personified.

The Mandalorian is fucking annoying.

The first day it was disturbing, the second, uncomfortable, and now it’s just a pain in the ass. You’ll be trying to work and he’ll pop up out of nowhere like a children’s toy, spouting some deliciously smooth one-liner in that scratchy, filtered voice of his, and you’ll get distracted, forget what you’re doing, screw up or have to start all over again - or all three.

You’re just lucky you didn’t brain yourself on the edge of the open access hatch. You rub your forehead, glancing around to glare at him - but he’s closer than you thought. He’s braced a forearm against the bulkhead and he’s looming over your shoulder, helmet tilted as he peers over your shoulder. He’s so close you can see your reflection in that shiny metal breastplate of his, and you look…

Not as annoyed as you should be.

“Do you mind?” you gripe. “You’re in my light.”

“No I’m not. You have a flash clipped to your shirt.” He taps it, and you draw back a little, the memory of his gloved finger tracing your collarbone burning bright in your stomach. Fuck.

You’re not sure if he’s aware of it, but he’s constantly getting in your space. Touching you. Just fleetingly, under the guise of guidance, moving you out of the way or towards something he wants looked at. It’s a brush of his hand against your waist here, a touch of his fingers at the small of your back there, and it’s just enough for a repeat of that first night in your bunk.

You try not to think about that as you turn back to the mess of components and circuitry on the inside of his ship. There’s too much work to do, and while he often hovers close to you like a moth to lamplight, he doesn’t seem keen enough to get close enough to singe his wings.

You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose. Whether he knows he’s driving you insane - in more ways than one. It’s impossible to determine beneath the shell of his armor, the unknowable darkness of his visor. Sometimes, though, he’ll tilt his head, or the tones of his voice through the vocabulator become warm and honeyed beneath the unfriendly scratch, and you wonder...

“Y’know, the repairs would go faster if you didn’t keep interrupting me,” you point out. You don’t add the fact that secretly, deep down, you enjoy the interruptions. You like being driven insane by this unfathomable tower of Beskar.

Peli tells you it’s just a crush, that you’ll get over it. But you’re long since past the age of schoolgirl infatuations, and how can you have a crush on a man whose face you’ve never seen? No, this is something different. Gravitational pull, just like Peli said, although she sours when you quote her own words back to her. You don’t know what it means, but you’re fairly certain that if the Mandalorian asked you to try and fix an engine that was actively on fire, you’d do it.

You’d burn up.

“Just want to know what you’re doing,” Mando says. “I don’t like having strangers working on my ship.”

Ouch. That stings, though you’re not sure why.

“But Peli speaks highly of you,” he continues as he watches your hands work under the white light of the flash. Wait, she does ? “And you seem…”

He pauses for far too long.

“Competent.”

Right.

“You Mandalorians aren’t so good at compliments, are you?”

“When the need arises.” Oof. The way he says need makes your gut churn, and not in a bad way. You try to ignore it.

You stop to survey your handiwork, trying not to look at Mando except out of the corner of your eye. He’s still there. Hovering, tall and boxing you in to the cramped space. You realize then that you can’t get to the ladder without having to squeeze past him, and it makes your pulse ramp up a little higher, as it always does when you’re in close quarters with him.

You’re going to have to do something. You can’t work in these conditions. It’s too distracting.

You set down your hyperspanner at the same time as he turns and walks away. You stare at his back, appalled. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the fucker. You’re suddenly full of a mindless frustration, and you call out to him - “Hey, Mando!”

He stops and turns. You think maybe under the helmet he’s raising an eyebrow, or frowning.

“What’s the deal?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips. Tilting your chin up in challenge. He shifts his weight to one foot and lets his hands hang at his sides. Posturing again.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t figure it out. Do you want me to fix your damn ship or not? ‘Cause you keep hovering over me like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You're not,” he assures you.

“Then what’s the deal?” Suddenly brave, you step closer to him. And closer. Until you’re in his space, and you have to crane your neck up to meet his visor. This close, he’s very still, and you can see the rise and fall of the chestplate with his breath, the movement of his cowl as he swallows, heavily, underneath it. Interesting. “‘Cause if you’d rather have Peli up here, say the world. I’ll go.”

“No,” he says. And when he lifts a gloved hand, you flinch. He reaches out and turns off the flashlight hanging from the strap of your tank top. Just a light tap, but his hand lingers, and then you feel rough leather on the outside of your arm.

“You take good care of the Crest,” he says, and your lungs seize and your blood rushes in your ears as his fingers trail down towards your elbow. “And you’re good with your hands.” His voice has dropped an octave and fuck, it’s doing things to you, making your thighs want to clench and your mouth water. Does he know? Can he know? You wonder what’s under that fucking armor, and your fingers suddenly itch to find out.

“Not the only thing my hands are good at,” you say, and his head tilts. Curious.

“Oh?”

That little oh of inquiry - it’s more interest than he’s ever shown you. You seize on it like a flame in the darkness.

Your voice comes out soft, suddenly touched by shyness, but you’re bold as you take that last step forward that brings you an inch from his body and Kriff, he’s broad. You feel dwarfed by him, but strong when you reach out and place a finger on his breastplate. He stills at the touch. “I could show you.”

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move, and this close you can hear the sound of his breathing through the modulator. Hear it as he hesitates. Then he reaches up, and his hand closes around yours, completely enfolding it.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Your stomach drops, and this time, not in a good way. He steps back and lets you go, and you try not to allow the disappointment to show on your face. Instead, you stoke the flame of your anger, let it burn bright and hot in your chest in the place of embarrassment, even as your face flushes.

“Why? You think I’m offering ‘cause I’m getting paid? Because I’m not,” you tell him. “I’m an apprentice. Peli took me off the streets, gave me food, somewhere to sleep, something to do. What I do the rest of the time is my business. I’m not in the habit of offering clients extra services just for kicks.”

You don’t expect Mando to turn back towards you, to loom suddenly, tall and menacing, in your space. But he does, and you resist the urge to take a step back, instead blinking rapidly and drawing a quick breath into your lungs to steel you as he leans over you.

“You don’t know what you’re offering, Girl,” he tells you, and his voice is - Gods - his voice is a rough rasp that licks up your spine, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He’s not touching you but he might as well be - you feel warmth in your belly, between your legs, and it sets your teeth on edge. “I’m a Mandalorian.”

“And?” you prompt, surprised when you find it easy to speak. “You may not be allowed to take off the armor, but you can let me take care of you like I take care of your ship.”

Mando’s breath catches. It’s subtle, but you hear the stutter of it through the vocabulator, and it makes your blood sing with triumph. It makes you brave, steadying the shake in your fingers when you reach out and lay your hands flat on his chest, the Beskar cool underneath your palms.

“Nobody’s ever…” he begins, and there’s something in his tone, something small and broken that makes your heart ache for him suddenly. “It’s always been about what I can do for them. Never what I - Dank farrik…” Mando swears suddenly, soft and vehement, and you wonder what’s going through his mind. “You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” you tell him, lips twitching as your hands move lower, over his flak jacket, towards his belt. “You’re the Mandalorian.” You lean up and against him so that your mouth hovers near his cowled neck. “And I’m the Apprentice.”

And that’s when you realize he’s hard, and that’s not a weapon but a bulge in his pants pressing against your hip through the fabric of his pants. Gods above, you think, he’s big there too, and now you’re wondering if this is a good idea even as you crowd your body against his.

His hands settle on your shoulders, and you wonder if he’s about to push you away, but then they drift around your back and slink lower, fingers pressing into your spine. Gentle. And then Mando grabs your ass with both hands and pulls you roughly against him, and your breath is arrested in your lungs.

The sound that comes out of the vocabulator you can only compare to a growl, and he squeezes your ass, roughly kneading the firm flesh under his fingers. He’s so strong he’s practically lifting you from the deck, and you have to stand on tip-toe and lean wholly against his body to stay upright.

“Mesh’la,” he murmurs, soft and reverent, at odds with the rumble in his voice, and you wonder what the word - Mando’a, probably - means. But you don’t have time to ask, because that’s when you hear it.

Peli calling for you.

“Girl!” Her voice drifts to you from outside the ship, and the Mandalorian freezes. “Girl, got those parts you wanted for the heating coils. Get down here!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Mando lets you go and the litany repeats in your head. “Fuck,” you echo it aloud. Then he grabs your jaw in one wide, covered hand.

“This isn’t over,” he tells you. You stare into the blackness of the visor and slowly, you nod. He releases you and you fall back, trying not to pant like a wanton loth cat, and you thank the Stars.

“I’ll be back,” you tell him as you head towards the ladder on shaky legs. As you turn to clamber down it, you watch Mando as he settles in the pilot’s seat, facing away from you, but you can see the tension in his posture, in the set of his shoulders as the helm turns to one to glance back at you.

“I’m counting on it,” he says. And you grin to yourself as you grab the sides of the ladder and slide down it, landing on your feet, and rush to meet your boss at the bottom of the ramp.

She notices the flush in your skin or the spring in your step straight away, and purses her lips knowingly and frowns at you as she hands over the components.

“What took you so long?” she asks suspiciously. “What were you doin’ up there?”

“Oh, you know,” you say breezily. “Just offerin’ my services.”

Peli’s pursed lips wrinkle further, if that’s even possible.

“I’m gonna go see if the baby’s awake,” she tells you. “He’s due a feed. You - you just get that ship fixed ‘fore you go tryin’ to fix anythin’ else.” Her gaze is pointed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I mean it!” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away. “I ain’t payin’ you to have fun!”

You laugh all the way back up the ramp.

---

Taglist: @hugs-for-din, @casssiopeia, @casssiopeia, @herefortheart, @shannaniganss, @sofithewitch, @mandosbitches

Feel free to request to be added/removed from the taglist!

#the mandalorian fanfic #the apprentice #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #mando/you

25 notes · View notes

starshard17 · 3 years

Text

Waterpark | Archer and Jakob

My friend asked me to write this actually, and it was a lot of fun <3

-----

Archer pulled the front of his jacket together, covering his chest as his face turned red. He quickly hooked the zipper together and zipped himself up, concealing his body. He let out a sigh of relief. That felt better.

He turned his head up to look around the water park, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone important. Archer fiddled with the zipper and bit his lower lip, starting to tap his foot on the pavement. He wasn't very fond of standing around waiting, especially in a place as open as this, but for this special someone that he planned to meet up with, he'd do anything.

Archer looked down at his feet, gulping down the lump that had risen in his throat. If he was being completely honest, he had no idea how to swim. He couldn't find himself comfortable enough with wearing just swim trunks to actually take lessons or even attempt to teach himself so he just never learned.

"Why the hell did I agree to this." Archer groaned, tousling his hair with his fingers. "I'm going to die on this date."

Then Archer's train of thought stopped as he processed the words that just came out of his mouth.

Date? A date? Did he just call an outing with his best friend a date? He plopped himself down on the ground, hiding his face in his hands. He just knew his face was turning bright red.

"I hate myselfffff." Archer drawled in a bit of a sing-songy voice.

"Aw hey, don't say that." Archer heard a familiar voice say with a pout. He whipped his head up, eyes wide and full of fear. There, right above him, he saw his best friend. Shirtless. Smiling. Incredibly hot.

What? Hot? His best friend? Hot? Haha. What is he thinking.

Archer pounded his fists lightly against his head, trying to clear away the thoughts he just had. He stood himself up and turned to face Jakob. He looked happy as ever. Why was he not surprised?

He shook his head, turning away to avoid staring at his friend's bare chest. He felt his face starting to warm up a bit. He was turning red again. His best friend was going to notice. He was going to make fun of him if he saw.

"Are you ready to get in the water? You've still got your jacket on and your glasses and you look shaky. Are you feeling okay? Do you have issues with swimming or something? Archer you should've told me we could've gone somewhere else!" His friend prattled on, worry quickly overtaking him. Archer jolted back into the conversation, practically shouting.

"NO IT'S FINE!" Archer yelled, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth, embarrassed at the loud octave his voice rose to.

"Sorry." Archer mumbled, looking away again. He watched as his dear, clueless friend cocked his head to the side, a confused look on his face.

"Sorry! Sorry. Jakob really. I'm okay with swimming. That's fine by me. I swear." Archer said, knowing full well that he was in fact, lying.

"Well-" Jakob started, hesitating a bit before extending his hand out to Archer. "-If you'd like, I can stick by you the whole time. You can hold my hand or lean onto me or whatever makes you comfortable. We can go find a place to put the stuff we're not gonna need while we're swimming then we can get started." He said with a smile. Archer too, hesitated before extending his hand and tightly gripping onto his friend's.

After finding a place to drop their belongings, and some convincing from Jakob, Archer took off his jacket and allowed his friend to pull him towards the water. Jakob stepped into the pool, the water splashing lightly around his ankles. Archer swallowed his fears and followed him, submerging his feet.

"There you go bud! You got your feet in! We're making progress." Jakob praised, noticing how nervous Archer still seemed. His friend slowly pulled him further into the water until it reached up to their middles. Archer's hold on Jakob's hand visibly tightened.

"You sure you're comfortable with swimming? You look insanely nervous." Jakob commented, pulling a single hand away before pulling away entirely. Archer let out a whimper of fear as his friend waded off a bit.

"Wait come backk." Archer pleaded. He blinked and squinted, trying to make his vision clearer. He couldn't see Jakob anymore. Archer stood up straight, looking around anxiously. He wasn't worried about his inability to swim considering his feet still touched the ground, but he was starting to feel vulnerable and exposed. What happened to staying by his side the whole time? He crumpled up on himself, refusing to move.

People brushed past him, laughing and having a good time. Where was your best friend when you needed him?

"Hey." A voice spoke. Archer rose his head, a huge smile spreading across his face when recognized the face. Then it turned into a deep frown.

"JAKOB YOU CAN'T JUST LET GO OF ME LIKE THAT!" Archer screeched, shoving him and causing him to fall back into the water. Jakob poked up above the surface again, laughing and smiling.

"Sorry, sorry. I expected you to follow me." Jakob told him, gently tucking a loose strand of Archer's hair behind his ear.

"Yeah well you said you'd hold my hand too so when you let go I got kinda anxious I guess." Archer said with a shrug, trying to brush it off. "Not like I'm scared of swimming though! Cause ... who would be haha." He laughed nervously. Archer looked up, noticing a concerned look on his friend's face.

"Archer buddy, if you don't like swimming or you are scared please tell me. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, I want you to have fun!" Jakob pleaded with an overly adorable pout. Damn him.

"Nah it's not the water it's the people." Archer told him, only telling half the truth. "Can you just... maybe not let go of my hand next time?" He asked, his throat seeming to tighten up near the end of his sentence, making his words come out squeaky.

"You'd really feel more comfortable if I held your hand the whole time?" Jakob asked. Archer nodded, holding his hands out again.

"Yes please." He said, his face brightening as he watched Jakob place his hands on top of his. They intertwined fingers and held tight to one another.

"We'll take things slow. And this time, you'll make sure to follow me and I won't let go of you." Jakob promised, smiling softly.

"Thank you." -----

As time progressed, Archer started to get a little more comfortable on the more shallow end of the pool. The two would splash water at each other and laugh when the other said something stupidly funny. Things got a little testy when Jakob suggested moving to a less crowded area of the pool. The Deep End.

"Well if your issue is the people and not necessarily the water, a little deeper should be fine right?" Jakob suggested as he gently tugged on Archer's arm, pulling them further and further into deeper water.

"Yeah." Archer squeaked eventually, terrified of going any further. He could barely reach the bottom anymore, but he let Jakob drag him farther in until soon enough, he couldn't feel the bottom of the pool anymore. He clung tightly onto Jakob, trusting him to be able to keep him afloat. He let his face rest on his chest, the wetness of the little droplets beading his friend's skin oddly soothing pressed against his cheek.

He allowed himself to be lulled into a calmer state of mind with his head pressed against his friend's sturdy body, trusting him fully.

Until that trust was immediately broken. He felt himself be moved away from Jakob and he had to rely on himself to stay floating. He thrashed about, splashing water at his friend.

He was freaking out. He didn't want to go under, if he did, he wasn't sure if he'd get back to the top without having to choke up some water.

Then he felt a pair of hands grab his wrists and steady him. He took a moment to compose himself and looked straight ahead, being met with his friend's gaze.

"Deep breaths pal." Jakob told him, moving his hands up into his palms, holding Archer's hands tight. Archer took in a gulp of air before breathing back out, slowly calming down once more.

"See? There you go. It's not too bad, yeah?" Jakob said, his voice soft and soothing.

Archer nodded, relaxing as he felt the pads of Jakob's thumbs running over the back of his hands.

"I'm going to ask one more time. You're sure that water isn't a problem?" He asked, voice dripping with pure worry.

"Okay. I've never gone swimming before. I was just so happy to have the chance to spend time with you that I didn't even consider the fact that I have clue how to swim. I just. Really like hanging out with you. Not to mention you sounded so excited about coming to a water park. I didn't want to disappoint you." Archer rambled. Each word held truth in it.

"Archer." Jakob spoke, causing his head to turn up.

"You can tell me when you're not comfortable with something. I would've been glad to spend time with you anywhere. It didn't have to be here if you didn't want it to be." He explained, pulling one hand away from his and resting it on Archer's cheek. Archer leaned into the touch, placing his hand on top of his friend's.

"Thank you. For everything today. And for being so understanding. It really means a lot." Archer said with a smile.

"I think I can handle keeping myself floating now. But. I don't want you to let go of my hands. I like holding them." Archer muttered, gripping his best friend's tighter.

"Of course." Jakob responded, pulling their hands to meet in between the two of them.

"I refuse to let go. Unless at some point you'd want me to." He said with a laugh. Archer snickered and gripped his hands even tighter.

"Thank you so much I-"

"HEY LOOK OUT!!" A voice shouted.

The next thing Archer saw was beneath the surface of the pool. Water flooded his mouth and he started coughing and squirming, trying to resurface until everything eventually turned black.

-----

"ARCHER! ARCHER WAKE UP!" Slowly, his eyes opened up, giving him a blurry view of the outside world. He coughed up a small bit of water as he flipped onto his side before sitting up fully, wrapping his arms around his middle.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly.

"I thought you were totally dead!" Jakob cried, hugging Archer close, causing his face to press into his chest.

"Honestly. Me too." Archer admitted, coughing up a bit more water as he spoke.

"Gross..." He mumbled, staring at wet ground in front of himself.

Then he felt a pair of lips plant themselves on his cheek, giving him a quick little peck. He let out an audible squeak and his face turned cherry red. His eyes moved upwards, glancing at his friend. He could barely make out the features due to him being a bit blurry, but he could tell just how worried he really had been.

He looked like he had been crying, and it read plain as day on his face that he truly was scared for Archer's life.

"I fished you out of the water and let you rest on the ground, just waiting for you to get up. I tried cpr and-"

As Jakob rambled, Archer felt his hand rise to lips and he seemed to be in some sort of daze as he imagined what he could've meant.

"Like. Mouth to mouth?" Archer asked, feeling his cheeks heat up more. Jakob stopped talking, his face turning a bit red as well.

"I panicked, okay?" He muttered, crossing his arms. "I thought you were dying so I had to do something."

Archer watched as he scrunched up on himself, seemingly embarrassed. He moved a bit closer to Jakob, and without thinking, he pulled his friend's head down and pressed their lips together.

As he pulled away, he watched Jakob's expression go from embarrassed to extremely flustered. Archer laughed.

"Don't worry about it. I think I'm okay with the idea of you freaking out enough to kiss me while I'm dying." He joked, lightly punching Jakob's arm.

"Shut up!" Jakob squealed, pushing Archer back into the water.

#Archer Blaine #Jakob Carlos #my writing #waterpark story <3

5 notes · View notes

fromthefishbowl · 3 years

Text

10 italian songs that are terribly horny

Kind of a sequel of this post I wrote about the three Italian songs every Italian knows without fail, here comes another in the same vein and, as you might guess from the title of the post, they all are horny.

Because there’s absolutely no need to title your fic about Nicky losing his virginity after a Hozier song, when the Italian music scene of the 1970s has already blessed us with Cristiano Malgioglio!

Beware that this list features: threesomes, implied choking, implied masturbation, lengthy descriptions of dicks, and a whole lot of “dying”.

So, if you’re new to the Italian music scene, I bet you now have two questions: who is Malgioglio, and why is that “dying” in between quotes?

Cristiano Malgioglio is an Italian songwriter who has been working in the music industry since the early Seventies. Now known mostly for his flamboyant style and white strand of hair in his otherwise completely black head, he was a close friend of Fabrizio de Andrè, who was actually the one who introduced him to the music world. He has written a lot of songs that are LGBT+ themed and has always been very open about his sexuality, to the point that he has never even felt the need of coming-out. Out of the ten songs here presented, he has written three of them, and one of them is about one of his boyfriends.

As the censorship didn’t allow for song lyrics to be too explicit, songwriters and singers had found a way around it: rather than saying “coming” or “orgasming”, they would go with “dying”, which was a lot more elegant and could be inserted in literally every song without the censors being able to complain. And, trust me, there’s a lot of dying.

Here is the list, from the least horny to the most horny.

Chi Non Lavora (1970), by Adriano Celentano

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Commonly called Autunno Caldo (Hot Autumn), the workers strike that begun in 1969 and dragged itself into the August 1970 greatly influenced this piece (but for all the wrong reasons). Workers were demanding safer working conditions, which had been completely ignored up until that point. As the days went on and the more people joined the protests, the police got more and more violent, to the point that they had begun shooting people on sight. This caused a huge uproar from the protestors, and when the voice that people had been shot and harmed by the law enforcement, even more workers and even students joined the fight. Through a year of strikes, they forced the Italian government to create a new set of laws that would protect both workers and students.

The song mocks this movement: the singer complains about the fact that, since he is on a strike two days out of three, he cannot give his wife enough money and therefore she’s going on a strike too and won’t have sex with him. Basically this song is nothing but the woes of a privileged, extremely wealthy man who thinks that people protesting for the rights of a safe work environment is inopportune and stupid.

The only reason why I included this song is because “Chi non lavora non fa l’amore” (Those who don’t work don’t make love) is still very much used to this day. If you want a piece of media that actually explores the protests and the work environment of the time, I suggest watching La Classe Operaia va in Paradiso (The Working Class goes to Heaven), a movie from 1971.

10 Ragazze per Me (1969), by Lucio Battisti

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Lucio Battisti is a national treasure and if I’ll ever do more of these, he’s surely going to end up in more of them. Whereas De Andrè would write more traditional music and focus on the lyrics, Battisti’s music was a lot more danceable and his lyrics a lot lighter, usually focusing on loneliness and heartbreaks rather than social issues.

In this song, the protagonist is bragging about how he wants ten girls for himself, all for different reasons (one because she knows how to dance, the other because she’s a virgin, that other one because she has been with everybody but him). It is soon revealed, however, that the only reason why he’s doing it is because he’s still thinking about a very specific girl who broke his heart.

Remembering the note above, peep that “And red lips to die upon”.

Gelato al Cioccolato (1979), by Pupo

Link to lyrics and translation here.

First song written by Cristiano Malgioglio and also the one about his ex! And yes, it was sung by another man, but... oh, well. The lyrics are the same.

I feel like the only thing I need to say, about this song, is to quote it directly: “Chocolate ice cream, sweet and a little salty”. And that’s it, because the subtext is right there and it’s impossible to miss what it implies.

What I think should be added is the fact that the singer had absolutely no idea of what the song was about. Like none. It was only in 2007 that Malgioglio told him that he had been inspired to write it after spending a torrid summer in Tunisia, where he had gotten a boyfriend with whom he’d often get ice cream.

Carlo Martello Ritorna dalla Battaglia di Poitiers (1967), by Fabrizio de Andrè

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Translating this song absolutely murdered me: Paolo Villaggio, one of De Andrè’s best friends and an extremely important figure in Italian entertainment history, wrote it to play over Middle Ages sounding music, so the words chosen and the way sentences are structured are reminiscing of that time, and it was incredibly hard to find English words that matched.

This said, it’s possibly one of De Andrè’s most light-hearted songs (probably because he and Villaggio wrote it while their wives were giving birth to their sons), even if it does mention social issues.

King Charles Martel comes home from Poitiers but has lost the key to his wife’s chastity cage, so he doesn’t even go home before looking for another girl that can quench his thirst. He sees a beautiful maiden taking a bath and, seduced, convinces her to have sex with him. It is only when he has finished that she reveals that she’s actually a prostitute and now he has to pay her, but he runs away before doing so (but still after having complained about the rising prices).

The lyrics of this song were censored and fought against by the censorship so much that, even to this day, records with the uncensored version are extremely difficult to find.

Una Carezza in un Pugno (1968), by Adriano Celentano

Lyrics and translation here.

Yes, another Celentano song. I don’t like him either, it’s just that we cannot get rid of him for some reason.

Anyways, here we begin to get into hotter waters, as this song is about a man asking his girlfriend to think of him while she masturbates. Of course, since he cannot be left out of the question, he will think of her while he jerks off too.

Basically, unlike what a first read might make you think, the “fist” he makes while thinking of her is not because he wants to beat her up.

Il Triangolo (1978), by Renato Zero

Lyrics and translation here.

Renato Zero is another extremely flamboyant personality of the Italian music scene, and “Il Triangolo” is one of the songs of his that are best known.

As the title may suggest, this song is about a threesome. The protagonist goes on a date with their boyfriend and finds out that he has brought a second man, with the intention of convincing said protagonist to have a threesome. Although at first they need a little convincing, the protagonist then agrees to it and finds out they enjoy it a lot, to the point of coming to the conclusion that “Geometry is not a crime”!

Kobra (1980), by Donatella Rettore

Lyrics and translation here.

This song is about dicks, there’s no way around it and there’s nothing else to say. The singer sees a certain man and thinks about his dick, getting wet and fantasizing about the many things she could do with said dick. That’s it.

Pensiero Stupendo (1978), by Patty Pravo

Lyrics and translations here.

Second threesome song!

Unlike “Il Triangolo”, this song is a lot more subtle. It’s clear what the singer is talking about, but the lyrics are not as on the nose and leave more to the audience to feel it, rather than hearing it through words.

The song begins with the three people part of the threesome that are already doing it, and are still doing it by the time the song ends. It’s not about the act in and on itself, but more about the sensations it brings.

Ancora ancora ancora (1978), by Mina

Lyrics and translation here.

Second song written by Malgioglio!

Mina is probably one of the best known Italian singers, as her voice is said to be one of the best in recorded history and has an impressive rage of three octaves, so it really says something, the fact that this piece is so difficult that even her voice broke while holding a note (in an incredible way that only gives it character, but still).

The lyrics play with the fact that in Italian the word “ancora” can be translated and understood as “still”, “again”, and “more”. I couldn’t really give it justice in the translation, but it’s as if she was saying “Your hands still”, “Your hands again”, and “More of your hands” at the same time, and this kind of logic is repeated for every “ancora” she sings.

Even if the lyrics are suggestive, what was censored in this case was the video (the one linked with the song), as the close shots of the singer’s face, and especially of her mouth, were considered to be too sensual to be freely aired.

L’importante è Finire (1975), by Mina

Lyrics and translation here.

Third and last piece written by Malgioglio!

The story behind this song is a little nebulous, but I have read that apparently Malgioglio wrote it for Dori Ghezzi, De Andrè’s wife, but that that project never came to life and, in the meantime, he had managed to meet Mina, and had tried to get her to sing it. But... not sure if this story is directly related to the song in question or not.

Anyways, even for this piece it’s impossible to escape it’s meaning, to the point that, even if it didn’t contain any forbidden words, it was censored anyways for weeks, forbidding radios to air it and Mina to sing it on TV. However, people were so eager to listen to it that it still managed to climb the charts and was, eventually, allowed on air.

#italian sources #italian songs #sources for tog writers

22 notes · View notes

loverboystyles · 4 years

Text

Late Night Boredom

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Again, such a cliché, but it’s cute. so 🤷🏾‍♀️ gif is not mine. I might do a part two?? isk let me know what you guys think.

Summary: Y/N is so, very bored, so she decides to go out on her balcony. Little did she know that a certain friendly neighborhood superhero catches her eye.

Warning: some suggestive content, but other than that, fluffy fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a late Saturday night, almost midnight and you were sure that your parents had fallen asleep. You let out something between a sigh and a groan, and rolled to the other side of your bed, phone in your hand, texting one of your friends and complaining about how utterly bored you are. They suggested that you get some fresh air, but you pushed it aside, revolted at the idea of getting up from your comfy bed.

You twisted over, now facing the TV in your room, turned it on and surfed the channels for a good ten minutes. Of course there was nothing that interested you playing, so you turned to Netflix. You had already binge-watched most of the shows, so you searched for another few moments. You let out a whine, you didn't want to watch something new or old, it was just one of those times where you were stuck in a black hole of disinterest.

Finally deciding to take your friend’s advice, you lazily throw the blanket off your body, sit up, and stretch. Then, you made your way over to your balcony doors, and pulled them open, pretending to be dramatic, like a Disney princess. Smiling at yourself, you step outside, letting the cool, New York air surround you. Making sure you closed the door behind you, you put your elbows on the chilly railing that use your hands to prop your head up.

Your eyes sweep the streets, looking for something, anything really, to help you escape your hole of boredom that you’ve somehow fallen into. Nothing gained your interest, there was only a couple, walking home from their date, you assumed, since they were holding hands and the girl was leaning on his shoulder, laughing at something he said. You decided to head back inside, since there was nothing to watch. But as you were about to step inside, you heard a scream.

Eyes widening, you did another 180°, you practically ran to the railing, and leaned over to see what the commotion was about. The woman was holding her arm out, pointing her index finger to a man that was running away, clutching a black, leather purse in his hands.

“He stole my purse!” the woman cried, a surprised expression on her face. You averted your gaze back to the thief that was getting away.

Within seconds (probably milliseconds, you thought), a certain superhero, clad in red and blue, with white eyes, outlined in black, jumped down in front of the criminal. Instantly recognizing who it was, thanks to all those youtube videos you watched and that one encounter you had with him, you relaxed.

“The time for snatching purses was an hour ago, you’re late!” he greeted the thief, making you shake your head and grin. Spider-Man extended his arm, shooting strings of web at the man, and pulled his hand back, catching the purse. He tossed the purse to its rightful owner, who had moved close to the criminal, who hadn’t noticed. The man attacked the hero, throwing a punch meant for his head, but instead hit nothing as the avenger easily dodged.

“I gotta say, you have to get a lot better at throwing punches.” he commented as the man started fighting him. He threw a few punches and kicks, which again, Spidey easily avoided. While fending him off, the superhero notice you looking.

He winked.

You were taken aback from the gesture, you could feel yourself reddening, and for some reason, your heart fluttered. You gave him a small smile in return, and headed inside. You left your balcony open just a tad bit, to let some cool air in. You decided to read a book, so you turned on your lamp and got your favourite book. Minutes had passed and all your attention was consumed by your book, until you heard a thud. Your eyes instantly shot towards your balcony, where you saw the hero from earlier, in his signature superhero pose.

As you were marking your page and setting your book down, a quizzical expression took over your features. You strolled to the doors and pushed them open, eyeing him curiously. The eyes on his mask slightly widened, but went back to normal again at once.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing up so late?” he asked with a New York accent. Extending his arm, he held out his hand. Deciding to trust him, you put your hand in his. He then bowed down and lifted his mask up to beneath his nose, and kisses it, making you smile at his formality.

“Is that what your voice sounds like?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he inquired, keeping up with the accent.

“I mean, is that really what your voice sounds like?” you said with a quiet laugh, not wanting to wake up your parents. You moved away from the doorway, inviting the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man into your room. “Sounds different from the last time we met. Not to mention all those you tube videos.”

A grin graced his face, at least, the part you could see. It was familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Not to mention that it was remarkably charming. “Oh, yeah, no.” he stuttered, his skin flushed pink. Peter mentally cursed at himself for using the accent, but made you laugh and that’s what mattered to him. You gave him a small smile as he walked into your room.

The truth is, that Peter is head over heels for you. The boy didn’t just like like you, he was madly in love with you. Everything about you captivated him, like your voice, your laugh, your everything. The smile you gave him reminded him of the first time you met Spider-Man

‘God, why are things so slow today?’ Peter thought as he swung across the city he calls home. He landed on a rooftop and looked around, a certain someone caught his eye, walking home on the sidewalk. His advanced hearing allowed him to listen to the song you were quietly singing, which just happen to be one of his favourites. It made his heart soar.

“Darling, you look perfect, tonight.” he quietly sang under his breath, he loved it because it reminded him of you, he would think of you whenever it was on the radio.

You turned right, into a dark ally way. Not because you were about to do anything creepy, but because it was one the shortcuts you liked to use to get home quicker, and avoid crossing the streets.

Peter decided to head home for the night, since there clearly wasn’t anything illegal going on. So he turned around and extended his arm, about to shoot out a web, when-

He heard you let out a loud cry and groan.

“Let go of me! You.. you filthy animal!” you cried. A thug had pushed you against the wall, knife to your throat, ready to slit it at any second. Fear filled your guts when you saw how dangerously close the weapon was to you.

Spidey immediately ran to the edge of the building

“Aw, is the little princess scared?” he spat, looking at your body up and down with a devilish smirk on his face. “We can have some fun, right here, right now, but if you struggle, you can say goodbye to everything you love. Sound good?”

You gasped, eyes wide, never breaking eye contact with the man, but you saw the hero with your peripheral vision. You relaxed a tiny bit, but still scared and mostly tense. “Mhmm,” you nodded, your voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Excellent, now be a good girl and take off your clothes.” he ordered, gesturing the knife up and down.

But of course, instead of doing as you were told, you froze as Spidey swooped in to save the day.

“Hey! Don’t you know that its kinda illegal to rape? Especially minors!” Peter kicked the thug, sending him flying and making his back hit the wall. You quickly grabbed your phone and dialed 911, telling the operator that you needed police, followed by your location.

After the police arrived and had taken care of the hooligan, Spider-Man offered to swing you home.

“No, no it’s alright,” you politely declined his offer, waving your hands in front of yourself. “I’ll walk home, it’s not too far from here.”

“I’ll walk with you then, ya know, in case more bad guys they to hurt you.” Peter said innocently. You giggled and started walking in the direction of your home. Originally, you had thought that the way home would be awkward, but it really wasn’t, there was just a comfortable silence. Until the infamous web-slinger broke it,

“You know, I think it should be illegal.” he said wisely. nodding once or twice to himself.

“Sorry, what?” you smiled, fiddling with your phone. “What should be illegal?”

“It should be illegal for someone as pretty as you to be walking all alone in the middle of the night.” he elaborated and even though you couldn’t see it, there a dopey smile playing on his lips

You laughed, “I bet you say that to tons of other girls.” you said, looking down and twirling a strand of hair on your finger.

“No, you’re the first,” he reassured you. “I don’t plan on using it one anyone else.”

You let out a soft gasp of surprise. Was Spider-Man... hitting on you? You pushed the thought aside, shaking your head to yourself.

“Well, this is my stop.” you said, about to open the front doors to your apartment building. “I guess I’ll see ya around, web-head.” you said.

“Web-head? Is that nickname?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “My nickname, though.”

“So, whatcha dong here, web-head?” you asked, curiosity lacing your voice. You were now sitting on your bed, legs crossed and you patted the space beside you, gesturing that he could come sit down if he wanted to.

You broke Peter flashback. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up.” he replied simply. Peter came and sat beside you. You were looking off into the distance, deep in thought. Maybe you were thinking about that night, Peter couldn’t tell.

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know.. I mean, I’m still pretty shaken up if I’m being honest.” the web-shooter gently placed his gloved hand on yours, letting you know that it was alright. You gave him another reassuring smile, and took his hand in yours, and toyed with his fingers.

“Strange material,” you commented.

“Mr. Stark made it.”

“T-Tony Stark? That’s awesome!” you exclaimed.

“There’s a story behind it, if you want to hear.” Spider-Man offered. you gleefully nodded your head and git comfy on your bed, leaning against the headboard with your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them.

So Peter told you his story. He told you everything, from the Washington Monument (he left out the part where he was there because of decathlon), to the Vulture guy. By the time he was done his storytelling, it was almost two in the morning. But, he accidently let the homecoming part slip his tongue

“Homecoming?” you questioned. “Are you in high school?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded his head, knowing that there was no way of covering that up.

“What school do you go to?”

“I can’t tell you that, sorry.” Peter told you, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Tell me about yourself! After all, it is a little weird that I’m in your bedroom and I have no idea who you are.”

“Oh, okay. Well, my name is Y/N L/N and I go to Midtown Tech...” You explained, telling him all about yourself. You didn’t notice, but Peter looked at you with a lovestruck expression the whole time. He loved it when you talked about the things you love, you always had this sparkle in your eye, meaning that what you were saying was true. Peter listened as if he was getting to know you for the first time.

And when you mentioned Peter Parker, the web-shooter got interested.

“Who’s that?”

“Peter? Oh, he’s my best friend,” you smiled, that glint in your eye was back, but this time, it was special. “I’ve known him since elementary school, he’s like a brother to me.” Peter internally cringed, there it was, brother. Peter’s heart almost physically ached. He knew you didn’t return the feelings but he didn’t think he would he would be that affected by it. Parker had fallen harder than he thought.

“Although,” you continued. lifting Peter’s hopes a bit, “I’ve started developing a crush on him. It’s so weird, I’ve known him basically my whole life and now that I think about it, it’s like ‘woah, I’m in love with him.’” you blabbered out loud, smiling at the thought of Peter as your boyfriend.

“In in love... with my best friend.”

Peter felt mixed emotions, and these are his thoughts exactly:

‘ohmygodohmygodohmygodshe’sinlovewithmetoo!”

and

‘what she just confessed her feelings, what do I do????? do I tell her????”

Peter decided not to tell you, thinking it would be weird. “You should tell him.” he whispered, looking at you with a happy look. “He’d be over the moon.”

“No, it’s- it’ll be weird!” you laughed, shaking your head and shrugging.

“I’m in love with my best friend too.” Spidey said, he didn’t have time to process his thoughts before they escaped his lips.

“Really, web-head?” you gave him a glance. “Must be a lucky girl.”

Peter sighed. He dreadfully wished he was living this moment as Peter Parker, and not Spider-Man, but still, he couldn’t complain. You liked him back and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah, she’s... she’s perfect.”

You two talked for a few more hours, about everything. About, school, movies, everything you could think of. Peter told you all that he could about himself, without revealing his identity. By the time you had run out of things to talk about, your alarm went off.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” your alarm went. You jumped and let out a small shriek, quickly leaped out of bed, turning off your alarm.

“We seriously talked all night?” you said, surprised. Time goes by when you’re having fun. “I have to get ready for school.” you said with a frown.

“So do I,” he said, getting up from you bed. “Hey, don’t be sad, you’ll see Peter.”

“Oh, yeah!” you cheered up in an instant. But another frown graced your face. “Will you come back?”

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded shyly, looking down at the floor, and fiddling with the hem of your night shirt.

Peter stepped closer to you, and lifted your chin up with one of his fingers. You looked into the eyes of his mask, your heartrate was rapidly increasing and you felt your face flush pink, almost red. You eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, then back up again.

Peter placed a soft kiss on your lips, it felt sensational. It was short and sweet and lovely, and what Peter didn’t know, that it was your first kiss, and it was his a well.

Without knowing it, both of your leaned into another, sweet kiss, like it was meant to be. Your eyes fluttered close, as your lips barely brushed against each other, you pushed your lips onto his, relaxing in his arms which he put around you. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, perfectly synchronized. Both of you pulled back at the same time, softly gasping for air.

“Something to remember me by.” He said, before rushing to your balcony and swinging off into the distance.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #fluff #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #kiss #peter parker kiss #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #avengers #infinity war #spiderman homecoming #far from home #spiderman far from home

327 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Flower Song - c. 3 - JJ Maybank

Request: So Ik you said you’re not taking request but I had an idea for your creedance (?? I already forgot what it’s called sorry my memory is fucked) series where you’re babysitting your niece again and you ask JJ to help her change and everything after a bath and you walk into the room and hear him singing the flower song from Tangled :( I could just imagine him softly singing while she’s drowsy trying to fight sleep so that they can continue singing 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

A/N: I really just need to write fluff.

Creedence Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

You were on the phone with your sister, cleaning up the bathroom after Bea’s bath, throwing towels in the hamper to take to the laundromat tomorrow morning, while JJ put your niece to bed.

She was the only four year old that you knew who was capable of turning bath time into a mess, rubber duck toys and a Seasame Street submarine lay in the wreckage as you scrubbed some forgotten bubble bath out of the tub and promised your sister that everything was under control.

“Yeah, she’s been great. I’m gonna go put her to bed now.” You said, putting her toys in a basket and rearranging the bottles of wash and shampoo.

Your sister’s husband had a work trip to Hawaii for two weeks and your sister had jumped at the opportunity to go along, leaving you in charge of Bea and the house. It was less than ten minutes after your sister had pulled out of the driveway that JJ had ridden his dirt bike up, backpack on, with every intention of staying for the two weeks. Your sister and your brother-in-law liked to travel, usually without their daughter, and you were happy to have the house because it meant another place that JJ could crash. And because you couldn’t help the escape into your brain, playing some sort of convoluted pretend that you and JJ were together and this was your house and your kid. It was innocent, really.

“Are you listening?” Your sister stressed, voice an octave higher than necessary.

“Yes, what?”

“Miss Lana said she saw JJ around yesterday,” your sister said, ratting your neighbor out as a snitch, “no boys, remember?”

“He stopped by for like .2 seconds.” You lied.

“I don’t want guys in the house. This isn’t some excuse for you to have your boyfriend over.” She replied, trying for the sternness that your mom had at some point, long before you could remember. Neither of you really knew how to be parents, siblings, children. It was all just a part you played.

“No guys, I swear.”

“We’ll be home next Tuesday,” she promised.

Once she was off the phone you finished in the bathroom and headed down the hall to Bea’s room. You’d left JJ in charge of putting your niece to bed once the phone rang and you realized it was your sister. He’d taken the toddler down the hall, holding her in his arms when she complained that she was too cold to walk by herself.

JJ had taken her into her bedroom and set her on the bed, going to her dresser to pull out pajamas. “Alright your highness, which pair? Butterflies or...penguins?” He asked, holding the two oversized t-shirts up for her. She stood on the bed, wrapped in her frog towel, the hood up over her wet hair, lips pursed as she thought over her options.

“Butterflies!” She pointed to the one on the left and he stuffed the penguin shirt back in, making her laugh when the drawer wouldn’t close all the way.

“We don’t know who did that.” He teased, giving her clothes to dress in while he checked the shelf for a book. He knew the night routine better than her own dad. JJ had been helping you take care of Bea long enough that it was second nature.

“No books!” She announced, tossing her towel across the room with a flourish and flopping onto the bed.

“No books? What then?” He laughed, coming over to sit on the side of her bed. She sat against the pillows, her arms around the stuffed bear JJ had bought her for her birthday.

“Sing!” Bea decided, “the flower song!”

The three of you had watched Tangled three times in the last two days; it was her new favorite movie and she was slowly learning key words in the songs. JJ knew exactly what song she was talking about. “Alright but I’m warning you my voice is not up to Flynn Ryder level.”

“Flynn doesn’t sing that song.” She giggled.

“Right, well I’m no Rapunzel either,” he pointed out though he knew it wouldn’t keep him from singing if Bea asked.

He really did love being here, spending time with you and Bea gave him that sense of family that he’d never gotten to experience in his own home. He knew you were a lot like him, carving out places on the island where you could belong but none of them ever feeling quite like a home. This, the three of you together, was the most home he’d ever felt in one place. And he loved Bea but that wasn’t the reason he’d started volunteering to babysit with you. He was trying his hardest to show you that he was responsible, that he would be a good boyfriend, and hoping that maybe you would change your mind about being just friends. You didn’t know he felt that way about you, he’d never said anything, but after your slip two weeks ago he couldn’t help hoping that you saying you loved him meant you actually loved him.

You carried the full laundry basket down to the front door before heading back upstairs to check on Bea and JJ. Since your sister was gone, he had been staying in your room while you slept in your sister’s room to be closer to Bea in case, she needed you. Once you reached the top of the steps you could hear the familiar sound of JJ’s off-key voice and Bea’s half-singing/half-shouting to a song from Tangled. You stopped just outside the door, listening as JJ repeated the song over, biting your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. You could hear Bea starting to waver in her wakefulness and you backed up further toward the stairs.

“You can pretend to wash dishes all you want, I know you were listening to my incredible singing skills.” JJ teased, coming into the kitchen and pulling himself up onto the counter beside the sink.

“I wouldn’t call them incredible...I also wouldn’t call it singing.” You replied, jumping back when he flicked water at you. “JJ!”

“Don’t be mean to me. I single-handedly put Bea to bed...that’s some record shit right there.”

“Yes it was, I’m in awe of your child rearing abilities Jay. I can only hope to be as good with kids as you someday.” You said, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’ll teach you my ways. For a price.” He added as an afterthought.

“A price? What kind of price?” You asked, “ice cream allowance?”

“A date.”

You paused, water pouring over your hands and the plate you were halfway done scrubbing dinner off of, heart pounding in your chest at his suggestion. You tried to calm yourself down, remind yourself that it was all probably a joke on his part. Just JJ being funny. “A date?” You couldn’t help asking though.

“Yeah. You, me, Bea can even come, a movie, maybe dinner. Possibly just some netflix and chill.” He replied, “A date.”

“Are you shitting me right now Jay?”

“No, I’m dead serious. I wanna go on a date with you.” He said, “so lets go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” JJ slipped off the counter and leaned over, kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. We can talk day and time.”

“See you in the morning.”

You watched him walk to your bedroom and close the door behind him, fighting the urge to let out some embarrassing version of a squeal once he had disappeared, knowing that he would definitely hear you. Part of you didn’t care though, he had asked you on a date, something you had been imagining for so long now that you still had trouble believing the conversation you’d just had actually happened.

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes@millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox@belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla@vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh@gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot@stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla@bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie@mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes@wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn@pcterparxer @literarycharleton @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses@activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom@talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @jolomez @timotaychalabae

120 notes · View notes

farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

This Christmas

Genre: Producer!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, slight enemies to lovers, Christmas-y

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Warnings: Portrayal of an abusive relationship (not involving Yoongi)

Synopsis: Yoongi doesn’t wanna work with a bubble gum idol like you. Especially not after your scandal where your and your manager’s relationship was revealed. And definitely not for a Christmas song.

✦✧✦✧

"You want me to what?" Yoongi asked. If this were a cartoon, his eyes would be bugging out of his head. The CEO of the company cleared his throat and looked at Yoongi over his glasses. It was obvious that despite being a high-level CEO of a successful music company, he was nervous to pitch this to his most successful producer.

"Listen, Yoongi, I know you're not happy about this. But, Y/N's comeback is crucial for her career. You know the scandal she had last year and this is her first comeback since then. We need this song to be everywhere. This why we need you to produce it."

"Okay, but like, a Christmas song? I know Y/N had a pretty pure image, but isn't that a bit much? Even for her?"

"Her scandal broke on Christmas Day last year. We thought having her do a Christmas song would help address that she moved on and wants to focus on her career."

Yoongi remembers your scandal a year ago. You'd been dating your manager. It was said you used his fondness of you to move up in the company. It was why you were a soloist and not in a group, why you didn't write your own songs but still got all the best ones, and why you had your good girl image. You were the role model for school girls everywhere in your pale pink skirts that matched your lips.

He'd never worked with you before. You were always so clean-cut, so bubblegum. It wasn't the type of song he wrote or worked on. In fact, despite working at the same company, and you being one of the largest idols signed with them, Yoongi didn't remember ever meeting you. He'd seen you passing, your manager placing his hand on the back of your skull to shield you from the camera flashes. Your hood up and a mask pulled up to cover most of your face.

"I've never done one of her songs. Why this one?"

"After the last year, it's impossible for Y/N to go back to her pure image. It just isn't believable. We need you because you don't do typical sounding songs."

Yoongi thought for a moment. An edgy Christmas song? Certainly possible, but could you really pull it off?

"It will be a new version of Last Christmas. We want it to be heartbreaking. Address the scandal without directly commenting. You have a knack for subtly that she needs."

"All right," he said. He knew he had no choice in the matter and it was only one song. Yoongi hadn't made his name as a producer doing bubblegum songs, but the company allowed him to release his own music under their label as long as he produced all the other artist's songs they asked of him. "But I'm not going to be like the other producers she's worked with."

✦✧✦✧

The night before your and Yoongi's first recording session he pulled up a playlist of your songs. You had a good voice, Yoongi would admit. He listened to a few seconds of each. You had the sweetheart image with mostly upbeat pop songs with a few heartbreak ballads mixed in. They were all written by the best songwriters at the company, except for Yoongi, of course. He'd never written for you, although you had considered one of his songs once.

A few emails exchanged before you ghosted him. "Wine" ended up going to another soloist and had won Yoongi an award, he really didn't care. After the scandal, you had the spoiled brat look. And, honestly, it didn't surprise Yoongi. Everyone knew you came from a well off background and went to a private school that the company commonly scouted at.

Girls like you always had talent, but you always ended up destroying yourselves. He was surprised you were even trying for a comeback instead of taking the money you'd made so far and setting yourself up to live off royalties until your name was forgotten enough to re-invent yourself.

When the scandal broke, Yoongi had just released a new mixtape. It affected the entire company, causing the sales and streams of his album to plateau. He silently cursed your name as he tweeted album links.

✦✧✦✧

Yoongi sat in his studio. The hood of his black hoodie pulled over his head and slightly crouched in his chair, he worked on your song. While he didn't have your vocal yet, he could easily work on the instrumental. It was tricky. "Last Christmas" was an iconic Christmas song that needed to be recognizable, but he also needed to make it different and stand out from every other cover.

His phone vibrated. It was you.

Y/N: I'm heading down now

You were most likely heading downstairs from the dance studios. He took off his headphones and soon heard a gentle knock on the door. He kept a lock on his studio to prevent anyone from bothering him while he worked. Only a few people had the code. And only to make sure Yoongi left every couple days.

Opening the door, he first saw your small smile. All lip, no teeth, yet still friendly. Behind you stood your manager, the one with who you'd had the scandal. Despite your break up being publicized, he was contracted as your manager for another year. Yoongi had no idea why you didn't just buy him out and let the poor kid get on with his life.

"Hi," you said softly, bowing politely before walking inside and leaving your shoes by the door. Your hair was up in a ponytail and you wore a blue sweatshirt three sizes too big. "It's nice to finally meet the famous Suga."

He returned a tight-lipped smile and reached out to shake your hand, but your manager stepped in front and shook took Yoongi's hand instead. "I'm Kwanho, Y/N's manager."

Yoongi nodded, giving the man an odd look as you skirted to the side. He noticed the way you balled up your hands in your sleeves and looked down at the ground when the other man pushed you out of the way.

"Nice to meet you," Yoongi said. "If you give me your number, I'll call you when we finish for the day or if we need anything."

Yoongi motioned to the recording booth and you walked in, putting on your headphones and immediately taking your place. You seemed to relax as you prepared yourself in the booth, beginning to test the microphone and adjust the cords around your feet.

"Oh, no, I actually stay in the studio with Y/N."

Yoongi paused. "Uh, well, I tend to work better when it's just me and the artist. You know, so I can kinda get a feel for them and get the best vocals."

"She's more comfortable when I'm here."

Yoongi glanced over at you in the booth. You seemed much more comfortable by yourself in the recording booth than you had with your manager and ex-boyfriend.

"She seems fine. Listen, this is my studio and it's a bit small. I really don't like people getting in the way."

Your manager fumed, his hair beginning to stand up and his face growing red. His fists clench around the water bottle he carried and he sighed.

"Fine," he said. "Just let me give this to her."

Kwanho walked into the booth, his form completely hid yours as he stood in Yoongi's view. He saw the man hand you the water bottle. Even after you took it, the man loomed over you for a few extra seconds.

Knowing he had an audience, your manager soon left the booth and the studio. When Yoongi heard the lock click shut, he turned on his mic to talk to you.

"Y/N?" he asked. "You ready to get some vocals. Need to warm up at all?"

You shook your head. "No, I warmed up while we were waiting."

✦✧✦✧

It had been nearly a year since you'd recorded anything in a studio. Yet, nothing felt foreign. You had immediately adjusted everything to your preferences. Taking a sip of water as Yoongi started the music, you began singing. Your phone was full of practice runs from the night before. You didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of the famed producer of your company.

You had no idea what he'd said to Kwanho to make him leave, but your stomach had untied its knots when you saw him leave the studio. Even with Yoongi's critical gaze, you were used to tough producers.

"That was good," Yoongi said. "But, I listened to some of your tracks last night and I know you can do better. Think you could lower your voice a bit on the chorus."

"Lower it?" As a soprano, you were used to coaches and producers pushing your voice to its highest notes and octaves. Rarely ever did your lower range get explored. "Uh, I can try. But why?"

"Well, this comeback is supposed both your vulnerability and strength, right? if we explore the range of your voice more, it will show a different side of you. Plus, if your vocal isn't perfect it might show some of the vulnerability we want."

Your eyes widened and you nodded as the track started again.

4 Hours Later

Yoongi was growing frustrated. Your vocals were fine, but only that. They weren't anything special. He couldn't entirely blame you. You weren't used to singing in your lower register and it seemed your vocal coaches only cared about cultivating your voice for the cutesy songs of your past.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "All right, let's take a break," he said. "I think we both need it."

You came out of the booth and almost immediately held the phone to your ear. His brow furrowed as he wondered who you were calling so immediately.

"Hey, we're taking a break."

Based on the quick response and hang up, Yoongi knew exactly who it was.

"Is he bringing you lunch?"

You nodded and sat down on the small loveseat Yoongi kept at the back of his studio for the artists or few visitors that came in. Pulling your knees up to your chest, he couldn't help but notice how much smaller you looked. When he'd seen you before the scandal, you looked healthy and filled out all your tight skirts and dresses.

Maybe it was just the oversized sweatshirt, but you looked thinner. Your collarbones stretching your skin and your cheekbones more prominent. He walked over to where he kept an electric kettle and started heating water.

"Want some spicy noodles?"

You shook your head.

A knock sounded and you got up. Letting your manager, Yoongi cause his hard gaze. He handed you a bag and refilled your water bottle. "Remember you're on a diet, okay?" he said.

You nodded.

"So, how's it going? Got enough for the song?"

"Not yet," you said. "We're working on it. Yoongi is really pushing me, but I think it will turn out well."

"I hope he's not working you too hard."

"Of course not, I love being back in the studio."

Yoongi poured the hot water into the instant noodles. "I think we'll need another day. Clear her schedule tomorrow."

Kwanho blinked twice. "Y/N is talented. I have every confidence it will only take one session."

"How long have you been her manager? Surely, you know it can take multiple sessions to get everything I need."

"I haven't recorded for a while, Kwanho. It's just cause I'm out of practice."

Your manager sneered and dropped the water bottle. "Fine," he said. Leaving the studio in a huff, he didn't seem to realize he'd spilled the water all over Yoongi's studio.

"I'm sorry," you said, looking around for something to soak up the mess. "He's just protective and doesn't like leaving me alone."

"Didn't you two break up?"

"Yeah, which I think made it worse."

Even if the two of you were still dating, Yoongi sensed something wrong. He pulled out paper towels from a nearby drawer and dropped to his knees to help you.

"He's kind of a dick."

"He wasn't always. Would you believe he was once really sweet?"

"Maybe he acted that way."

The two of you ate in relative silence, only piping up to discuss the song or the general happenings of the company. Yoongi finished his noodles and you finished your salad. After a few sips of water, you walked back into the recording booth.

✦✧✦✧

It wasn't until nine o'clock that night when you and Yoongi finally agreed that enough progress was made. Yoongi waited for Kwanho to pick you up and he watched as the light he'd seen in you when you recorded slowly dimmed.

He didn't knock this time, opting instead to text you. You answered the door and he walked in. Without a greeting, he met Yoongi's eyes. "She's free tomorrow. But let's make sure to finish this up tomorrow. We only have a few weeks before we have to release."

"Last I checked you weren't my boss," he said. "I understand the timeline and the song will be done in time."

Yoongi turned to you. "If you record anything good tonight, you can text it to me. If it's good quality, we might be able to use it."

"Wait, you have his number?" Kwanho asked, grabbing your bicep.

"Yeah, I've had it since I showed interest in his song a year ago." You glanced at Yoongi quickly before bringing your eyes back to your manager. "We're working together. I don't see why it's a big deal."

"If you need to text him recordings text them to me and I'll get them to him."

You scoffed. "Kwaho! Stop being so jealous, this is ridiculous."

The atmosphere came to a boiling point and all Yoongi could focus on was you. The way you puffed out your chest at your ex-boyfriend and called him out. But, he noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you flinched when Kwanho let go of your arm.

"Let's go, Y/N. We can talk about this later." Opening the studio door, Kwanho motioned for you to leave before him. "And, you," he made sharp eye contact with Yoongi. "Delete her number."

You and Kwanho disappeared through the door and Yoongi locked his phone, placing it back in his pocket.

✦✧✦✧

Yoongi stayed in the studio after you left. It wasn't unusual for him to stay until the early hours of the morning. Sometimes, he would even sleep on the couch and get a few hours of sleep before continuing in the morning.

The deadline for your song didn't warrant such actions. Instead, he just sat in his studio and read back through his notes from the day. There were a few bits of your backing vocals from the day that he wanted to include on the final track, but the main vocal still needed work.

Thinking back over the day, he was surprised at how different you were from what he believed. You were soft-spoken, polite, and good to work with. You took direction well, but pushed back when Yoongi got too caught up in the production that he made a bad call about your voice.

Kwanho--on the other hand--wasn't the loyal manager you took advantage of. At least, not from what Yoongi had seen today. He'd heard others at the company say you deserved it for using your relationship to get special treatment. But something didn't feel right about the way your manager still held control over you.

✦✧✦✧

It rarely snowed in November in Seoul. Yet, as Yoongi stepped outside around midnight, he was met with cold, wet snow that soaked the ends of his hair. He walked towards his apartment that was only a few blocks away when his phone rang. It was you.

"Suga?" you asked, and Yoongi realized he hadn't even told you his real name.

"Yes," he said. "What's up? Did you get a good recording?"He heard sniffles on the other line and he stopped walking. "Y/N? What's wrong?"

"We fought after we left and I finally fired him. But now I have nothing," you said. "He took everything. My apartment, my money, everything. I was wondering if I could stay in your studio for the night until I can figure something out."

Yoongi looked up at the snow and felt it soaking through his clothes. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside the company building. I don't have my ID."

"I just left. I'm on my way."

✦✧✦✧

Yoongi handed you a cup of coffee. You wore his sweatshirt and a pair of his sweats. It felt a little embarrassing and you knew what the tabloids would think you were taking advantage of yet another at your company.

"I don't have creamer or anything, sorry," he said.

You smiled. "Suga doesn't have any sugar." You took a sip of coffee and felt his gaze on you. When you looked up, you saw him smiling at you and holding in his laughter until you met eyes.

"It's amazing that you can make jokes when your life is changing," he said.

"The lawyers will handle everything," you said. "Plus, what can I do now other than finish the song?"

There was a pause, but unlike when you were in meetings with the company executives, or when the silences between you and Kwanho led to explosions, it was content.

"I need to apologize to you, Y/N."

Your brow furrowed. "Why? You've been so nice to me."

"I judged you. I believed the press, too. Even up until yesterday, I believed you were entitled and the one taking advantage of Kwanho, not the other way around."

"There was no way you could've known, Suga. But I appreciate it."

"Yoongi," he said. "Call me, Yoongi."

✦✧✦✧

"What if we change the song?" Yoongi said, halfway through the next day when nothing was coming together like both of you wanted.

"What do you mean?"

"Instead of focusing on Last Christmas, what if we wrote a new version that focuses on how you've changed for the better."

"This Christmas?" you said, your voice rising in pitch.

"Actually, yes."

✦✧✦✧

BREAKING: Y/N RELEASES NEW CHRISTMAS SONG PRODUCED BY SUGA THAT DETAILS PAST RELATIONSHIP ABUSE

Today, Y/N released her first song following last year's Christmas Day scandal that revealed that she was dating her manager. She is due to have her first comeback stage later this month.

The song, "This Christmas" discusses how when the news broke that it had been an attempt to control her. Her ex-boyfriend and manager leaked the news himself to prevent the singer from breaking up with and firing him. It focuses on the strength this experience brought her.

Y/N and her ex-manager are currently involved in a lawsuit that alleges that her manager used his privileged position on her staff to access her bank accounts and important documents. He then used this access to steal from the singer and commit various other crimes against her. Additionally, Y/N has told other sources that she was frequently controlled and emotionally abused while in the relationship.

This new song has already performed well on the charts and shows a new side to Y/N and her music. Famed producer, Suga, produced the song and spoke out in support of Y/N. The two have since been seen together on multiple occasions following the release of the song. A new Christmas romance for Y/N?

#bts #btsimagines #bts imagines #yoongi #btsfanfic #bts fanfction #yoongi fanfic #suga #suga fanfic #bts fan fiction #yoongi imagine #producer yoongi #fan fiction #originally posted on wattpad #farfromsuga

44 notes · View notes

badboys-imagines · 4 years

Text

My neighbor (Henry Cavill)

PART I

Pairing : Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary : You move into the house of your dreams. It all seems like a fairytale, until you meet your neighbor, Mr. Cavill...

PART II (here) | PART II

''Yes !'' you shouted.

It had been weeks since you'd visited the beautiful house on McKenna's street and had literally fallen in love with it.

Unbelievable.

Of course, the first month wouldn't be easy. You needed a job to pay the rent, but you well, it was life, wasn’t it ?

It probably started here.

Or maybe it started when you first moved into this little piece of paradise.

Unpacking boxes and carrying some, you were singing loudly, your arms full of precious belongings. It was a beautiful Sunday. The last sunbeams inundated your new living room and nothing could have troubled your day. Nothing, except a sudden knock on the door.

You abandoned the box you were holding and rushed to the entrance.

A visit ? Already ?

As you trotted towards the door, you imagined who would be standing behind it.

The nice lady from across the street ? Her Landlord ? A neighbor ?

A wide smile on your lips, you opened the door, ready to greet whoever it was, and there he stood.

In a casual t-shirt, with dark messy hair and a sharp jaw-bone that wouldn’t allow a smile to cross that face. Two piercing eyes shot up, staring at you.

The second his gaze settled on yours, you felt as if a million knives were digging into your body.

Fine, the man was gorgeous.

He didn't seem pretty happy, though.

''Ah, well...'' the stranger tutted, ''You are new to the neighborhood, am I right, Miss…''

Keeping your warm smile, you cleared your throat,

''Y/L/N.'' you quickly finished his sentence, reaching out to shake his hand, ''Y/N, Y/L/N. Yes, I'm new here.''

You chuckled softly, hoping your attitude would break the ice, but the man in front of you didn't show any sign of friendliness. Instead, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief,

‘’Hm, nice to meet you,'' he vaguely replied, shaking your hand with a reluctant gesture, ''my house is just next to yours.'' he held your gaze for a moment and withdrew his hand as soon as possible. ''Miss Y/L/N...'' he muttered for himself, absent-mindedly looking at you.

Assuming he was tired, you leaned against the wall, crossing your arms in discomfort,

‘’Yeah, that’s my name. And you are ?’'

''Mr. Cavill.'' He quickly answered, ''Listen, this wasn't a courtesy visit, Miss Y/L/N. I just came to tell you I was trying to work and I would highly appreciate it if you... lowered the volume, if you know what I mean.’'

Her jaw dropped. Did he really just say that ? How rude.

''Wha-... How can you hear me from your house ?’'

Mr. Cavill shrugged,

''I was in my garden, trying to work, as I said, and your window is wide open…’'

A frown crossed your face,

''Maybe you could just... work inside ?'' you said, letting out a nervous chuckle, but Henry froze.

He glared at you and his voice dropped an octave,

''Or maybe you could shut that pretty little mouth of yours for an hour or two ?’'

You gasped, shocked by his words,

''What ?'' you eyes widened in disbelief.

Even though you had promised yourself to be kind and generous towards your new neighbors, you never imagined it would be... so difficult.

After all, you weren’t going to stop singing just because of the rude guy next door.

‘’Mr. Cavill, I hope your day is as pleasant as you are, but I really don’t have time for this, if you’ll excuse me…’’ you finally retorted, causing Henry to tilt his head in misunderstanding.

''I beg your pardon ?’'

‘'What I’m trying to say politely is… fuck off.’' you finished before slamming the door, heart hammering and your chest slowly but surely filling with anger.

Wow. That was intense.

Glancing at one of the boxes on the floor, a grin appeared at the corner of your lips. You unpacked your radio and placed it on the edge of the window.

Oh yes, you're going to hear me Mr. Ca…

Mr what, already ? Well, let’s rename him…

Mr Chaos.

You carefully put a CD into the player and turned the volume to its maximum. It's raining men started playing and you were almost startled by the beginning of the music.

A few minutes later, Mr. Chaos was knocking and barking again at your door, only this time you laughed. Loud music and thick wood didn’t stop him from yelling though, and so it was your turn to shout,

''Go away, Mr. C. !''

Outside, a muffled voice muttered something and you burst out laughing just imagining the scene.

Ridiculous.

All of a sudden, the constant knocking stopped and you smiled with satisfaction.

Until your song stopped playing. You frowned and glanced at the open window. Mr. Cavill was bent over it, his finger on the button.

Releasing a loud, exaggerated sigh, he was ready to walk away when you stood up,

''Oh, you.'' you grumbled and rushed to your precious radio, pressing play.

As soon as the music reached his ears, Mr. Cavill turned around to face you and narrowed his eyes,

''You don't want to play that game with me, Miss Y/L/N.’'

''I'm not playing any game. I just moved in and you're being a complete asshole. You could have just asked, I mean politely. I would have stopped.’'

It took him a moment to speak again, and you started to regret what was happening.

Did you really want to be at war with your next door neighbor ?

''I see.'' he cleared his throat, ''Miss Y/L/N, would you be so kind to stop playing terrible music while some of us are trying to work here ?’'

Son of a…

After all, he wasn’t putting too many efforts in being kind either.

‘’Oh, so this is your idea of politeness, uh ? No.’’

He was going to explode, you were sure of it. Deep inside, you felt kind of amused by the exaggeration in his attitude.

Mr. Cavill inhaled deeply,

''I did ask politely.’'

You shrugged, ‘’No, you didn’t.’'

Clenching his fists, Mr. Cavill nodded slowly, shooting you a murderous look,

''Fine. Game on, Miss Y/L/N.’'

And with that, he finally made his way home.

Wow.

So he was a bit temperamental and grumpy to say the least, but still great to look at.

Victory didn’t feel that satisfying. You’d won a battle, but not the war and you had definitely no idea what Mr. Cavill was up to since you were now on the other end of his wrath...

820 notes · View notes

jinkicake · 4 years

Text

Laser Tag

Tendou Satori x Reader

Just a little laser tag date.

I was thinking about the one (1) time I went laser tagging and thought to myself, ‘wow would that be an experience with Tendou’.

WC-783

~~~

“You wanna take me laser tagging?” You ask your boyfriend in a deadpan tone, staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes (Y/N)-chan of course I do!” Tendou only grips your wrist tighter as he drags you towards the building. “It just opened up so we have to go!” Red eyes glance down at you, softening at your simmering figure.

“You better not sulk afterwards when I beat you~” You sing as you latch onto his arm, pressing your cheek to his bicep. Tendou lets out a noise of confusion and you can see the flames mirroring in his eyes once he looks back down at you. The two of you were competitive to say the least. You squeeze Tendou’s arm in excitement once the two of you finally make it in front of the large building.

Embarrassingly enough, you lost sight of Tendou within the first twenty seconds you entered the dark room. Your heart begins to race in your chest as you try to squint into the large dark room, people running all around you. Heavily you sigh before going to a more secluded area to hide, trying to figure out how you could find your boyfriend. Despite your whole body on guard you missed the red eyes following your every movement.

“Why is it so damn dark in here.” You mummer while staring down at your feet, giving your eyes a break from straining so hard. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when a palm is set on the wall behind you and you squeak loudly while you try to move your gun. Another hand wraps around your own and you’re pretty much stuck in place as you glare up into familiar eyes that are shining down at you teasingly.

“(Y/N) you sure do suck at this game for someone who was talking so much smack earlier.” Tendou giggles and releases a ‘pop’ right by your ear. You can only grit your teeth in annoyance before noticing that the two of you are the only ones in the section. Quickly a switch flicks in your brain and a smirk appears on your face. “Huh?” Tendou’s eyes widen as you take your free hand and grab the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours. As your lips mold together you can feel Tendo letting his gaurd down, each brush of your lips against his own cause him to falter. The hand covering your own drops to grip at your hip and the one beside your head swiftly cups your jaw to allow him to deepen the kiss. You let out a soft sigh of appreciation when Tendou slowly licks your bottom lip, which you open with no hesitation. His chest presses against yours and when you flick the tip of his tongue with your own he lets out a soft moan. You smirk into the kiss knowing you have him right where you want him. Slowly you lift your hand and place the gun hidden along his vest.

“Tendou” You sigh into his mouth before pulling the trigger with your index finger. A bright red light comes into your field of vision and you screech and run out of Tendou’s arms. The red head looks down at his vest then back to you, pouting deeply. You throw him a wink as you start skipping away towards the exit.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Tendou whines while throwing his arms over your front, pulling you back against his chest. You let out a laugh when you feel a hard pressure against your lower back.

“Tendou is that your gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” The teasing comment causes his cheeks to flush and your laughs are quickly silenced when your back meets a wall.

“Why don’t you find out?” Delicately his lips softly kiss along your neck and you automatically lean your head against the wall to give him more room.

“Tendou we are not fucking in a laser tag room.” You scold him and Tendou pulls back to look at you with sad eyes.

“We’re not?” He almost whimpers and you roll your eyes at his dramatic antics.

“No, but we can fuck in one of the bathrooms.” You watch your boyfriend’s eyes light up as he places his forearms against the wall beside your head. Tilting your head up you brush your lips against his ear and lower your voice an octave. “Only if you’re a good boy.” Tendou stiffens before backing off of you and standing up to his full height.

“Oh, I’m a good boy.” He promises and grabs your hand in his before dragging you off towards the entrance.

#tendou satori #tendo satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu tendou #haikyuu fic #tendo x reader #fluff #tendou satori fic #i love tendou #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

341 notes · View notes