#i am sorry anon this is one of my weaknesses
Text
It's That Simple
Day 16: Praise Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)
CW: Light angst, kinda (Bob gets deflated); talk of panic attacks and self-doubt; smut (handjob); 18+ only.
Word Count: 5656
AN: This was requested by an anon!
AN2: If you've been around a bit, you know the drill: this isn't edited or re-read or beta'ed.
It’s another terrible first date.
Bob struggles to even snag a first date. He’s unassuming; he lacks the swagger and extroversion to stroll up to a woman and talk her up. Most of his dates are obtained from other members of the Daggers—double dates, set-ups, stuff like that.
The latest one was set up by Fanboy, a friend of his sister. Within moments of meeting his date, Bob knows it’ll be a mess: she makes a face when she greets him at the door, and it goes downhill from there.
It ends when she gets a text. An emergency, she tells him, and Bob is too smart and perceptive to buy the lie. But he’s a gentleman, so he nods seriously and offers to drive her home or wherever she’s needed, which she declines. He pays the bill of their abortive dinner, and he pretends not to notice how his date practically skips out of the restaurant and into the waiting car of a friend.
He should go home to lick his wounds. Another failed date, another night alone. He sees the stretch of his life in front of him and despairs that he’ll ever meet someone, and he should go home to sulk, but he goes to the Hard Deck instead.
He might as well break the news to Fanboy, at least, and maybe Nat can cheer him up with her usual sarcastic humor.
-----
The Hard Deck is as packed as always, and Bob—in his date clothes of dress pants and a button down shirt—stands out among the uniformed pilots and fellow wizzos. He finds the Dagger Squad, confesses his failure to Fanboy, then settles into a stool near Nat and Rooster.
Nat puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, Bob,” she says.
“Her loss,” Rooster offers.
Bob shrugs. It’s not anyone’s loss but his, but he offers them a weak smile that fools neither of them.
It’s Hangman who sidles up to Bob, and in an uncharacteristic moment of thoughtfulness, the cocky pilot offers to be his wingman—which makes Bob laugh, and it comes out laced with some bitterness.
“No offense, Bagman, but you’d be a terrible wingman,” Bob says.
“What? Why?”
Bob lifts his hands in a helpless shrug. “Because you’re….you. And I’m not like you at all.”
“So?”
He scoffs in frustration at Bagman being so obtuse. As if any woman would look at Bob if he walked up to them with Jake at his side. It’d be like an Aston Martin rolling up alongside an old Honda Civic, and that’s the analogy he uses to make Jake understand. But Jake shakes his head, clasps him on his shoulders and gives him a friendly shake.
“Nah, Baby on Board. You got it all wrong. You just need some confidence.” Another teeth-rattling shake. “Trust me, there’s a girl out there for you. C’mon.”
Bob finds himself powerless to resist as Jake pushes him off of his stool, then shoves him gently in the direction of the crowded bar.
-----
The first pair that Jake sidles up to is a bust, but it’s not Bob’s fault: Jake had hooked up with the one woman before, forgotten about it completely. He’s moments from getting a drink tossed in his face when Bob tugs him away from the danger and they pull back, reevaluate.
The second pair is a bust too. The first woman doesn’t even let Jake get the full sentence out before she’s wagging her ring finger in his face.
“Married,” she says, her words clipped. “Move along, sailor.”
The third pair? The third pair works out. Jake hones in on one immediately, a blonde with big doe eyes, but the second one—you—rolls her eyes at him.
But when you turn to study Bob, you don’t roll your eyes. You hold out a hand, introduce yourself, ask for his rank, then pat the empty chair beside you.
“Settle in, Lieutenant,” and your smile is easy. “Let’s chat while we watch your friend strike out, huh?”
-----
It turns out you’re drunk, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
For one, you’ve fallen in with Bob Floyd, the most gentlemanly man a drunk, single girl could come across. He’d never take advantage, and in fact, he’ll end up driving you home at the end of the night, getting you into your apartment. He will take your shoes off of you, tuck you into your bed, and press a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on you before he sees himself out.
For another thing, Bob Floyd has fallen in with you, the most fiercely sweet drunk that a down-on-himself man could come across. You’re one of those loud cheerleader types when you drink; the kind of woman who chats up other women in the bathroom, who tells them they’re beautiful, that you love them. With your friend and Jake otherwise engaged, Bob finds himself caught in the tractor beam of your charm.
“You look sad,” you tell him around the rim of your glass. “Are you sad?”
You’re drunk and Bob is sad, and you’re staring at him with wide eyes that glitter in the low light of the bar, so he tells you. He tells you about his terrible date, the latest in a string of terrible dates, that he’s been single for so long and he’s not entirely convinced he’ll ever meet someone, that he’s too scrawny, that his glasses are terrible (one date called them serial killer glasses), that he’s too reserved to ever catch the eye of a woman, too unremarkable looking, let alone—
“No!” You cut him off by exclaiming it, a near-shout, and your hand finds his forearm and grips him there. “You’re gorgeous, Bill! Don’t even say you aren’t!”
He grins despite himself. “It’s Bob. But thanks. I mean, it’s nice of you to say—”
“Bob. Yes. Sorry. Bob, not Bill. I say it because it’s true.” You release your hold on his arm and sit back in your chair, your eyes narrowed now as you study him closer. You’re quiet for a long beat, and Bob squirms under your attention, but then you tell him more and he swears he breaks out in a full-body blush.
“You’re gorgeous, really,” you tell him. “It’s just that you have a sneakier handsomeness, you know? Like, that one there—” You gesture broadly at Jake. “—He’s, like, Ken-doll handsome. Like, he catches your eye because it’s all symmetrical and stuff, and he’s fine, but symmetry can be boring and someone like you, it’s sneaky. You have a nice face, and these nice blue eyes, and nice hair, and I bet people think about you after the fact like, ‘oh, that Bob guy, he’s not bad at all,’ and then even later it’s like, ‘oh, Bob, he’s pretty handsome.’ Because you’re that sneaky sort of handsome and that’s the worst damned kind.”
Bob isn’t entirely tracking what you mean, but he shakes his head at the unearned praise, and he can’t stop the smile that’s plastered on his face. He probably looks like a dope.
“Why’s that the worst kind?” he asks.
“Because it’s deadly!” You lean forward again, put your hand on his arm again. “Sneaky-handsome guys are like a virus because by the time you realize they’ve infected you, it’s too late.”
Bob chuckles. “I’m a virus? Suddenly my night has gotten worse, somehow.”
“No, not at all. It’s just…” You trail off, polish off your drink. You wave down Penny for another. “It’s just that you sneaky-handsome types never understand the power you have. Ken-doll over there knows he’s hot, and by the mere fact of him knowing he’s hot, he loses a considerable amount of hotness. But you have no idea you’re handsome, and that makes you even hotter.”
“I think there’s a string of women in the San Diego area that would disagree with your assessment,” Bob replies. “But I appreciate the compliment, nonetheless.”
“Oh, them.” You flap a hand, a dismissive wave. “There’s a lot of idiots in the world, Bob. You can’t let a string of women in the San Diego area make you feel bad.”
“I guess I just need to find someone who isn’t an idiot.”
“Ah, well!” You set your drink down and wave your hands in front of yourself in a ta-da sort of flourish. “Cal Tech graduate, Bobby. I work for NASA.”
He feels a warm flush at you calling him Bobby. “You’re a rocket scientist? Definitely not an idiot, then.”
“Astrobiologist, actually. And only an idiot sometimes, but never when it comes to the sneaky-handsome men here at the Hard Deck.”
Bob shakes his head, a little embarrassed at how much he likes you, a drunk stranger, talking him up. He tries to dial it back, afraid he’s going to fall in love before last call.
“You’re way too smart for me, then,” he tells you.
That makes you arch an eyebrow at him. “You afraid of smart women, Bobby?”
“Not at all. It’s just that smart, beautiful, and sweet? Do you understand the power you have?” He keeps his tone light, teasing, but he’s in over his head with this: he’s definitely going to fall in love before last call.
Of course he is. His question makes you laugh, a warm sound that knocks free the lump in his chest from his earlier failed date. Your laughter makes him feel drunk even though he hasn’t touched a drop; he feels warm and light and big-headed at how kind you’ve been to him, how sweet, but your laughter is the sound that makes him fall in love with you.
-----
The two of you stay until last call. Bagman and your friend disappear hours before then, and you shrug at Bob, say you called it all wrong, that you didn’t think Jake was your friend’s type.
Bob drives you home. You’re unsteady on your feet, so he hovers near you, but you manage reasonably well until it’s time to unlock your door. He watches you try it, then he reaches out and takes the keys from your hand.
It’s the first time he touches you.
He gets you inside. He gets you to your bedroom, and you flop gracelessly across the mattress, and Bob immediately goes into caretaker mode. He slides your shoes off of you, sets them in a neat row by your closet. He makes his way to your kitchen, gets you a glass of water, then stops in the bathroom. He rummages through your medicine cabinet—you use the same brand of toothpaste as he does, the same type of toothbrush, and Bob marvels at the strange intimacy of learning these things, the everyday things that not everyone is privy to about you. He finds some ibuprofen and shakes two out, then takes them and the water back to you.
You’re already drifting off to sleep, and Bob has to cajole you into sitting up. He gets you perched on the side of the bed and gives you the pills and water, which you take without complaints. He takes the empty glass back from you, and then there’s a moment—
—you sit on the edge of your bed and Bob stands over you, and you look up at him with your bleary eyes and he sees fear. You’re understanding what you’ve done, maybe: you’ve invited a strange man back to your place and you’re drunk, and he could do anything, and Bob sees the flicker of uncertainty, the beginning of fear in your eyes. It makes him feel sick because he’d never take advantage. It makes him sick that the world, being what the world is, makes this fear lance through the whiskey fumes in your head.
He reaches down to the foot of your bed where there’s a blanket neatly folded. He shakes it out, urges you to lie down, and when you do, he covers you up.
“Be sure to drink more water when you wake up,” he tells you softly.
The nascent fear fades out of your expression, and it’s replaced by a loose, goofy grin. You free a hand from under the blanket and give him a sloppy salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Bob sees himself out but not before he’s struck with a bit of brave optimism. He sees the little whiteboard by your refrigerator, and he writes out his name and his number. He drives home and sends up a silent prayer that his sneaky-handsome virus has already infected you, charmed as he is by your earnestly drunken (albeit clunky) analogy from earlier in the evening.
He wakes up the next morning and feels less hopeful. He queues up a playlist and sets out on his morning run, but his morning pessimism is misplaced: you call him a mile into his run, and Bob stutters in his steps to hear your voice—a little rough, but sunny nonetheless.
“I’m looking for a guy named Bobby,” you tell him over the phone, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Lieutenant Blue Eyes.”
-----
The two of you make plans to meet up at the Hard Deck, but you don’t call it a date so Bob doesn’t either. He’s in unfamiliar territory: things have always been a date or not a date in the past, but he’s noticed that many of his Dagger teammates speak in looser terms—meeting up, hanging out—with potential partners. He’s unsure how to handle it; if he seems too casual, you might miss his interest. If he comes on too strong, he might scare you off.
He decides to just turn up in his uniform, as he usually does, and when he arrives at the Hard Deck, you are already there. You’re perched in a bar stool and chatting to Penny, but when he strolls in, you see him.
You smile at him as he walks over to you, but then you shake your head in a mock-rueful way.
“Oh, no,” you say as you hop off of your stool. You open your arms and Bob steps into them, and you hug him warmly like you’re old friends. “I thought maybe it was just whiskey-goggles that night, but you really are cute.”
Bob chuckles. He releases you, then takes the stool beside yours. “Well, I’ve been downgraded. You called me handsome that night,” he points out.
“Sneaky-handsome, actually.”
“There seems to be a whole spectrum here that I was never privy to.”
You wave down Penny who comes and takes your orders. Once your drinks are in front of you—a hard cider for you, a shandy for Bob—you click your glass against his.
“Here’s to the sneaky-handsome men of the world,” you say.
Bob ducks his head and grins “And to the rocket scientists,” he adds.
A date or not a date…the evening passes in a blink, and you leave Bob that night entirely sober after long conversations and a lot of easy laughter. You pull him in for another hug before you part, and this hug lingers longer than the hug you gave him as a greeting. When you pull away, though, you gaze at him with a somber expression.
“I wanted to thank you for the other night,” you tell him. “For being a gentleman when you took me home.”
“Of course.”
“No, I mean it.” Your hands on his upper arms squeeze him a little firmer. “You could have taken advantage, and you didn’t. You’re a good one, Bob.”
He shakes his head, tries to wave you off, but you squeeze him again. You don’t let him shrug off your thanks. You don’t let him downplay his goodness.
“You are a good man, Bob,” you repeat, and you stare at him, like you’re daring him to disagree.
Bob, who finds that you’re something of a force to be reckoned with, wouldn’t dare to disagree.
-----
He’s still not entirely clear if this is dating or not. Neither of you actually says the word. You text each other steadily, and you meet up sometimes at the Hard Deck, but your schedule isn’t great and Bob’s is even worse. He worries that he’s missed his chance. When he talks about it to the other Daggers, Hangman rolls his eyes and tells Bob he should have taken his shot earlier, that Bob is pretty much friend-zoned now, but Nat rolls her eyes at that and says he’s overthinking it.
Of course Bob overthinks it. Bob overthinks everything.
He doesn’t know yet that you overthink everything too. That you are going through your own pangs of regret, that you think you’ve missed your chance too, that your friends circle around you too and give you tough-love pep talks to build up your courage to take the lead on this burgeoning thing with Bob.
And ultimately, Bob’s hunch that you’re a force to be reckoned with is correct. In the end, you take charge.
-----
You end up inviting him over for dinner on a night when your schedules align, and Bob overthinks that too.
What if it’s a date-date, and he turns up too casual, with nothing in his hands—no wine, no flowers? Or the opposite—what if he dresses up a little, brings you a mixed bouquet, and it’s just a casual friends-type thing?
Bob has no idea how he can manage the systems on a sophisticated plane because his brain grinds to a painful halt the moment he starts to contemplate this dinner at your place. It’s Nat—it’s always Nat, with her no-nonsense lens into the mystique of her fellow women—who smacks some sense into him.
“Wear a nice shirt, shower beforehand, and take a bottle of wine,” she tells him.
“But what if—”
“It’s always polite to take a gift, Bob.” She rolls her eyes, heaves a sigh. “And it’s always polite to, you know. Shower. Show up fresh-smelling and neat. Jesus Christ. Just go.”
So Bob turns up at your apartment, a mid-tier bottle of wine in his sweaty hand. Freshly showered, a daub of cologne behind his ears, and a nice blue button-down that brings out his eyes.
And it’s a good thing he took Nat’s advice too, because you open the door in the sweetest sundress, and there’s music softly playing and the most heavenly smells wafting from your kitchen. Bob realizes all at once that it’s a date-date after all, and his heart does an alarming little stutter in his chest, enough to stun him until you take his hand and gently pull him inside.
-----
Part of Bob’s issue with women is his inability to pick up on subtle, sometimes invisible cues. He has always fallen in with the sort of women who play mind games, who play coy and say one thing while meaning another. He always feels back on his heels; it feels like women speak a language he’s only slightly fluent in, so he’s always playing catch-up to translate what they mean.
But it’s refreshing with you, in this moment, because as you both sit down to the feast you’ve prepared, you just talk with him. The two of you chat about your lives, you catch each other up since the last time you’ve talked, and Bob almost forgets to be nervous.
Almost. A pair of tapered candles flicker between you and cast your lovely face in a golden glow, and low, bluesy music sets the soundtrack as you eat. You sip at the wine he brought, and he eats your home-cooking, and Bob imagines an entire life like this…and he almost misses the way you keep swiping your palms along your thighs, like you’re nervous.
Almost. He leans into his WSO work, studies you closely like you’re a dashboard of lights and alarms and switches. He watches you a little closer, and he sees the way your throat bobs when you swallow a mouthful of wine, like you’re swallowing past a lump or going all dry-mouthed on him. He sees the deep breaths you take, the way you press the back of your hand to your neck, like you’re flushed and trying to calm yourself.
“You’re nervous,” he blurts out when he realizes it for sure, and you pause in where you’re lifting the wine glass to your mouth and stare at him.
“I am.” It’s that simple. No mind games, no coy pretending.
“It’s just me,” Bob says.
You smile at him, and it trembles a little at the corners. He can feel the nerves in you now, and he reaches out a hand across the table, palm up. He makes a grabby motion with it until your smile firms up and you lay your hand in his, and he grasps you lightly.
“It’s just me,” he repeats.
“And I like just-you,” you tell him. “Like-like, I mean. I wanted to tell you so tonight.”
His heart does that wicked little stutter in his chest, but he squeezes your hand. “Sounds like you just told me then.”
“Guess so.” You watch him, and your smile seems tremulous again, so Bob replies, “I like you too.”
It’s that simple. After you each put yourself through your own overthinking hell, each suffering through your own sleepless nights and needless worrying about dumb things like friend zones, it comes down to a moment so simple that it’s stupid: just the two of you holding hands as you confess your mutual feelings matter-of-factly.
-----
It feels too easy. After months (years) of struggling to even land the occasional first date, suddenly Bob’s dream girl turns up just like that. It feels too easy, and so Bob slips into his overthinking almost immediately.
It goes fine after dinner, when the two of you trade nervous kisses on your couch until the nerves burn off enough that your mouth slotted over his feels natural, that you move in concert with each other—your head tilting one way, his tilting the other, no longer bumping noses or knocking his glasses askew.
It goes fine as you climb into his lap, the solid weight of you a welcome sensation because Bob’s head feels like it’s filled with helium, drunk and fizzy from the feel of your lips against his, your tongue against his own.
It goes fine when you climb off of him, shaky-legged like a newborn foal. When you hold out your hand and take his to lead him back to your bedroom.
The moment he finds himself stripped down to his boxers and lying on your bed is the moment it falls apart.
It’s like every mean comment, every brush-off and ghosting, every roll of the eyes and beleaguered sigh and overheard commentary about him crowds into the room and leaves no space for this moment with you. Bob thinks of all the feedback he’s ever gotten on dates—the serial killer eye glasses, the lack of muscles, the lack of game. He tries to take a deep breath and finds he can barely pull in a lungful, and his throat feels like it’s closing on him—
And he can’t get hard. His near-erection from making out on the couch deflates, and even though you are perched over him—you’ve shed your sundress, and you’re in the sexiest, sweetest lingerie set, powder pink, like the underside of a cloud at sunrise—he cannot coax himself back to attention.
The panic that floods him—he recognizes the feeling. He’s felt it a million times. He feels the hot, splotchy redness as it breaks out across his chest and neck, and his face flushes furiously bright, and you notice it all in real time. The sultry, heavy-lidded look on your face disappears and is replaced by pure concern.
“Bob? Bobby? Are you…okay?” You reach a hand out and cup his face, and your palm had felt warm earlier but now it feels cool….which proves how hot he’s flushed, how feverish his panic makes him feel.
“I’m sorry. Shit, honey. I’m…I gotta go.” He tries to sit up but your mattress is soft and he flails a moment, and if Bob were just a bit younger he’d burst into tears at how sideways this has all gone so suddenly. You served him up the perfect evening, you’re kneeling right beside him in the hottest fucking lingerie, and he’s been reduced to a stuttering, red-face idiot who can’t even get hard—
“Hey.” You lay your hand on his bare chest, steady him. “Hey, hey, hey. Take a second. Just breathe, Bobby.”
“I gotta—”
“Just relax.” You press against his chest, tap your forefinger against his skin. “Breathe for me, okay? Everything’s fine.”
“It’s not. Fuck, it’s not!” He raises his voice, winces at how shrill he sounds, and the dam in him breaks. Something in him dislodges, and it all spills out: every mean, rotten thing he’s ever thought about himself. Every bit of unfair criticism, every insult and slight and how his own insecurity has twisted it all into a crippling imposter syndrome. How he only ever feels competent at his job but how he struggles with everything else, and now how he’s fucked it all up with you because he’s overthinking, always trapped in the own tangled maze of his mind, always waiting for the other shoe to drop because he’s not good enough, he can’t even get hard even with you looking like a dream—
“Hey. Whoa.” You remove your hand from his chest, but you scoot over to sit beside him, turned to face him, your expression very similar to the night he met you—the same easy smile, the same studious eyes.
“Nothing’s ruined. You haven’t fucked anything up. Take a breath. Is this because of that bad first date you had the night we met?”
He nods. “A little bit.”
“There’s been other bad first dates, I guess?”
Another nod.
“And now you’re worried this is just another bad first date?”
“Yeah.” It comes out a croak, a roughness in his throat.
“Hmm.” You lean forward, press a soft kiss to his forehead. “You wanna hear about my worst first date ever?”
“No, honey, it’s okay—”
“His name was Justin.” Another soft kiss, this one to his temple. “Good job, good looking.” Another kiss, to the other temple, right at his hairline. “Picked me up and gave me flowers, took me out to San Diego’s most exclusive restaurant that has a reservation list a mile long.”
Bob chuckles weakly. “Sounds awful,” he says, wry.
You hum again, kiss his flushed cheek. “He was charming at dinner.” A kiss on his other cheek. “Said all the right things. Asked about my life and listened to my answers.” The lightest of kisses on the tip of his nose, and it makes him smile despite himself.
“Halfway through dessert, a woman comes up to our table.” Bob feels the gentle press of your lips at the corner of his mouth, and he turns his head to kiss you back, but you pull away.
“It was Justin’s wife.” A flurry of kisses now, to his chin, along his jawline, near his ear.
“He was cheating,” Bob says.
“Nope.” A kiss, this one lingering, under his jaw, on his neck. “Turns out, this was a little game he and his wife play. Some weird cheating, cuckolding fantasy.” Your lips skate over his pulse point. “He takes a girl out, his wife pretends to catch them, and then they go to a nearby hotel to fuck each other senseless.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit is right.” You lift your head to gaze at him. “Asshole left me with the bill for dinner too. So Bobby….you’re not my worst first date. You’re not even close.”
“Honey—”
“You have no idea how hard you’re gonna have to work to really, honestly fuck this up.” You grin at him, and then you straddle his lap again, and he lays his hands on your hips and stares up at you.
“Because you’re, like, exactly the sort of man I’ve always been looking for. You’re that sneaky-handsome sort, and you’re smart and sweet, and you took care of me that first night when I was too drunk to make good choices.” You cup his face in your hands, and you stare at him hard, that sweet forcefulness on full display, like you dare him to disagree with you.
“It’s already a sure thing, Bobby.” You lean forward, kiss him gently. “There’s no pressure to do anything tonight. Don’t even think about needing to do anything. How about you just let me love on you, and you just relax, and if you can keep your secret wife from busting in and turning this into a cuckolding fantasy, we’ll end the night just fine, okay?”
That makes him laugh, and it breaks the spell of his terrible ruminating. Bob laughs, and he slides his hands from your hips up to your waist to feel your soft skin.
“I didn’t even think of getting a secret wife before I came here,” he confesses.
“See? It’s a sure thing, then.” You lean forward again, whisper in his ear, your warm breath making him break out in goosebumps as you tell him to just relax and let you love on him.
-----
The antidote to Bob’s awful overthinking, as it turns out, is your care and praise.
As far as first dates go, this is the one where Bob learns something new about his own sexuality. He learns, thanks to you, that he has a praise kink, because your hands and mouth and body on his feels amazing, but it’s your words that make him hard.
Loving on him means you touch him everywhere. You kiss him everywhere. You stroke him, press your soft lips to him, lick against parts of him until he feels like he’s on fire in a way that is completely different than his panic attack. You kiss every inch of his face and neck. You trail your mouth over his shoulders and collarbones, across every bit of his chest and belly, and you praise him whenever your mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.
Look at you, Bobby. Hiding this body away under that uniform.
You praise his arms, the muscles of his chest and abs. You praise his shoulders and back, the smattering of chest hair, the trail of hair that leads down and disappears under the waistband of his boxers, and you glance up at him, the question in your eyes as you toy with the elastic.
“Can I?” you ask, and Bob nods, swallows hard, and you go lower, you push his boxers down and his cock is there, hard from your honied words.
“Holy shit,” you blurt out. “Bob, are you for real with this?”
It probably seems like a cliché, like the pretty girl in a movie who somehow never realized she was pretty, but Bob has never really considered his size. He’s been around plenty of other penises through the course of his career, but he’s never exactly eyed up other men and measured himself against them. The handful of women he’s slept with never said anything so he assumed he was average, but you praise him here too—you tell him he has a beautiful cock, and Bob blushes at the compliment. He’d never call it beautiful, but when you wrap your palm around his shaft and grip him gently, he’d agree to any adjective you might offer, so long as you never let him go.
This feels too easy too, but the panic never claws at Bob’s throat again. You’ve chosen him, you’ve made it a sure thing for him, and you’ve cut through his awkward moment of near-flight to get him to this: your body stretched alongside his, your breasts pressed against his arm, your hand working against his cock while you whisper praise in his ear.
And every time doubt starts to creep in—he should be touching you too, he should be making you feel good too—you hush him, you still his mouth by kissing him, and you tell him that he has all the time in the world for touching you, but he should let you take care of him now.
His orgasm creeps up in fits and starts, and it seems to ratchet closer with each bit of praise you lavish on him, more so than each movement of your hand working against his cock.
“I want you to come for me, Bobby,” you whisper against his neck. You kiss his pulse point, a plush, open-mouth kiss that makes him shiver as you grip him tighter, work a faster rhythm with your hand. “Come for me like a good boy.”
He wants to be good for you; he wants to do as you say. Some not-so-small part of him craves your approval, and maybe the two of you will play around with that sort of dynamic in the future, but for now, he just wants to obey you. He wants to do his part to salvage the night he thinks he almost ruined, so he breathes in time to your strokes, focuses on every sensation—the softness of your breasts pressed against him, your wet, hot mouth kissing him, the light scent of your perfume. The tension in his belly is a coil, and it tightens and tightens until it snaps, and his hips stutter against your grasping hand. He gasps out your name, warns you, and then a beat later, he comes. He spills over your hand, thick ropes of cum coating your fingers and wrist, spilling over onto his belly.
“Just like that, baby.” You kiss his panting mouth, and he feels the curve of your lips as you give a pleased smile. “It’s that simple.”
#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#top gun maverick#kinktober 2023#tropes and tales
181 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you have any pizza tower ship that is kinda your guilty pleasure?
Also love your art :))
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, kind of
Although, i like keeping it somewhat subtle
#pizza tower#peppino spaghetti#the noise#peppinoise#i think? well i'm leaving the tag#don't get me wrong#but i also like depicting them at#6pm after work#chilling in a cafe#i am sorry anon this is one of my weaknesses#i'm a mess right now
616 notes
·
View notes
Note
related to the posts on your butch gently assisting with your personal grooming at the end of the day................there's a criminal minds episode (yes i know etc.) about a skilled seamstress and carer whose abuse and trauma somehow lead her to abduct and drug beautiful women so she can carefully dress them up and have tea parties. i have watched it a totally normal number of times hahaha
My mom was Obsessed w criminal minds for like a few years so im pretty sure ive seen every episode in my peripheral vision twice over. i know the exact one youre talking about .
Drugging and abduction are very much not. what i was shooting for. i was kind of very focused on a realistic romantic fantasy full stop. your mind is great and i promise youre fine but intox kink, especially forced intox kink, dollification, and just. generally "forced to be [disabled, basically]" vibes are things i want nothing to do with so i dont really. know how to respond to this other than saying that.
in any case keep it up soldier i wish you fun sexy fantasies 👍
#i dont mean to be a buzz kill :\ i really am sorry for that#sometimes. you need to recontextualize the 'being taken care of' fantasy into something you imagine being forced into. and that is somethin#i can understand completely though#she speaks#anon#asks#i dont drink and i dont smoke. and im still pretty uneasy around people who are under the influence though im getting better about it#mostly via meeting butches who are lovey dovey silly goofy drunks instead of. the kind of drunks im used to. being trapped in a house with#and the idea of even harder drugs being anywhere near me or being. put in my body. makes my heart rate spike?#and im already disabled enough as is. i want to respected and taken care of and adored. not. taken advantage of for being too weak to#do anything but take it. you understand? its. a really big thing for me.#again. youre fine. its not your fault. you have a wonderful ask and a lovely concept you just sent it to the Wrong person. i cannot indulge#in this one with you
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
None of you are getting Mine as a husband because 1) he is a gay man and 2) his dating pool is Daigo and only Daigo. I am not sorry
why apologize when you're right
#snap chats#my dad always says people who apologize for nothing are weak#you are not weak anon this i am sure#ps on that my dad apologizes a lot considerably LMAO maybe it just seems like a lot because no one else in my life knows how to say sorry
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
riding soft dom!chan while he praises you is all i can think about
and now it’s all i can think about 🤧
EDIT: i’m sorry anon i just re-read ur request and u wanted the praise!! :( he doesn’t really praise her that much, maybe 1/2 time?? i’m sorry, i let my imagination run a little too wild with this one :(((((((((
smut below the cut, minors dni.
tw [female anatomy ; daddy kink ; unprotected piv sex (don’t!!) ; dirty talk ; degradation?? (he calls reader ‘slut’ a few times and ‘bitch’ once but she loves it - she is me, i am her) ; creampie]
you are on top of him, and has his hands on your waist and his lip between his teeth, eyes focused on where your bodies meet.
“pretty pussy swallowing me whole,” he grunts, gripping your hips a bit tighter. “you like daddy’s cock don’t you?”
you nod, easing yourself onto his length, hips rising and falling again as he fills you up perfectly. “yes, hmmmm” you moan, “da-daddy’s cock ‘s so big. ‘s perfect for me”
chris nods, biting his lips. from underneath you, he jerks his hips upwards, enoch causes you to let out a tiny yelp. “such a pretty little pussy, such a dirty mouth.” he slaps your asscheek, then gropes it. “‘s okay, though. love it when my baby gets dirty for me.”
you move up and down his cock, coating it entirely with your arousal. you place your hands on chris’ chest. you continue to ride him for a while, but your knees start to feel weak, and your movements on top of his body become a little more frantic and irregular, and chris notices.
“aww, my baby’s gettin’ tired?” he mocks you, smirking at you, still guiding your movements on his cock with the help of his hands on your hips. “thought you liked fuckin’ yourself on daddy’s cock. you’re a spoiled little slut, aren’t you? well i’m sorry baby, but today you’re gonna work for it.”
you love it when he calls you a slut. he feels incredibly bad afterwards, though, so he doesn’t really do it that often.
you nod. “‘m daddy’s slut. call me that, call me that again,” your moans get more and more high-pitched, a clear signal you’re getting close to your finish.
in a matter of seconds chris sits up on the mattress, resting his back against the headboard and latching his lips on your neck. “my little slut,” he moans against your skin, landing another slap on your asscheek. “always hungry for cock,” he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, humming.
you ride him faster, clit repeatedly brushing the lower part of his abdomen and in his pubic hair. “‘m always needy f-for you. always need your cock.”
usually, chris would help you cum by rubbing your clit. not tonight. not when he’s in charge tonight. he’ll do it tomorrow, though, when you’ll be in charge and he’ll be calling you mommy, begging for you to let him cum. not tonight. tonight, you gotta work for it. and work for it you do, because after a couple of minutes later you’re clenching around him and whimpering as you release around his cock until your juices coat his cock, dribbling on his balls and ass.
“ye-yeah, that’s right. like this, baby,” chris praises you as you move on top of his cock. “fuckin’ came all over me like the good girl you are. can’t wait to cum inside this slutty pussy, can’t wait to fuckin’ fill you up.”
“d-do it. do it, daddy. fill me up.“
and chris loses it, starting to thrust into you at a quick pace, holding you by the waist. “needy bitch,” he moans loudly, hips snapping against yours. “yeah, yeah. ‘m gonna fill you up now. you want it? you want my cum?” you nod, brain all fuzzy, your legs are starting to give in.
he pulls back to look you in the eyes - “then beg for it.”
#📨: anon#channie <3#bang chan smut#bang chan hard thoughts#bang chan hard hours#bangchan smut#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan hard hours#stray kids smut#skz smut#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#bang chan drabbles#bangchan drabble
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅
thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse
There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.)
He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section.
He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true.
No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom.
Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight.
You look tired, too.
Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess.
You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas.
Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky.
You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops.
You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one.
“Hey,” he says.
You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak.
“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.”
You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.
“Are you okay?”
Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight.
“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment.
“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.”
“It's getting better.”
It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–”
“I'm really okay–”
“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–”
You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.”
Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.”
“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket.
“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.
He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still.
Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.”
“And he hit you?”
“Yeah.”
Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”
You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask.
Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice.
“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?”
“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue.
“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?”
You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.”
He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?”
You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…”
“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly.
“I’m not stupid.”
Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.”
“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.”
He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now.
“Can I buy you something to eat?”
“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside.
“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.”
“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it.
“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?”
“No.”
“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.”
You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly.
Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that.
#spencer and stripper!reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
807 notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶
thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩
Wc ≈ 1.4k
Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader
Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.
Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out
♪ michelle
It was nice while it lasted.
The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.
You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.
The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...
"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."
"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."
Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.
Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.
You weren't his type...
So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?
And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.
Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?
"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"
You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."
He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.
"Don't go!" He almost yelled.
His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.
Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.
"Please don't go!"
⁕⁕⁕
Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.
"So it didn't go well?"
Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.
"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.
Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.
"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.
A long summer breeze went by.
"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "
"She fucking hates me."
There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.
"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.
Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.
Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.
"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."
"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.
"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.
Will that really work? He wondered to himself.
"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.
⁕⁕⁕
There was a knock at your apartment door.
You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.
His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.
On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.
It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.
But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.
All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.
"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.
For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.
⁕⁕⁕
His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.
You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.
Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.
All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.
"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.
He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.
"I'm an asshole." he admitted.
"You don't say." you chuckled.
He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.
"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."
He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.
"Satoru."
"Yeah?"
He reared his head up at you.
"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"
He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.
"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.
"Am I being forgiven...?"
"Mhm."
He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?
"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.
"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"
You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.
"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."
"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.
The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.
#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#angst#fluff#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojo sensei#jujutsu kaisen gojo#satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#angst to fluff#angst with a happy ending
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLO AGAINNN
Tis i, Lyne- No im not Lyney but ✨anon lol here to give you more ideas ✨
Fucking Cyno in the desert, in an eremite tent at a eremite camp you both had just cleared out a few minutes ago, just, literally fucking him and covering his mouth to muffle his sounds so it wont attract any other monsters. Him begging for you to go faster because he's so close to cumming <3
Sadly, that is all i have for today, have a good day and i love ya!
-✨anon
(Yes i have now claimed the title of ✨anon and theres nothing you could do abt it sorry <3)
"in an open match, 【 ✨ 】 has invited CYNO to play . . .
it's fucking in-tents
✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!cyno, PIV sex, covering his mouth, semi-public (no getting caught), praise, dirty talk, creaming & creampie, post-coitus puns .
A/N : this fic is an apology for the spam of my new masterlists ,, i am so so sorry ><
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
He's so hard.
Cyno's so fucking hard, and it's all for you.
He can't help but whine, loud and stark in the stilling desert. It's still now, cleared from eremites; but in the distance, you both know another camp awaits. Even closer, there's hilichurls.
You're tempted, too, to fuck him in a hilichurl's outpost—maybe even a watchtower, his body bared to the sky and the sands of the desert.
(You wouldn't, of course. You're far too possessive of that which is yours.
But it doesn't hurt to tease at the idea, is all.)
"Quiet, baby," you murmur, slowing down your thrusts 'til they drag at a tent tortoise's pace. His cunt squeezes around you in reply.
"We don't want some hilichurls to hear us, do you, Cy? " He shakes his head vehemently, leaning down to press his forehead into the soft—albeit rather sandy—blanket that the eremites had left behind.
This is their home, after all; the home—the camp—that strangers slept in only hours ago, now used to fuck the General Mahamatra in.
How ironic. You think, though, that the eremites wouldn't really mind. (Hopefully.)
"'m—" he cries, cut off by the nudge of your cockhead right against the overly sensitive bump of his g-spot, soft and spongy n' deep inside his pretty lil' cunt.
You coo in reply, pressed right into his blushing ear "What, sweet thing? You're doing so good for me." You wrap your hands around his middle, palms against his rippling abdomen and teasing at the happy trail that dips to his cock.
"I—I think 'm close," he mumbles, moans; grumbles, groans. Cyno arches so prettily beneath you, and you're quick to follow the curve of his back, pressing front to back to him as you are. Small lil' mewls spill out of him, each sound beautiful to your ears—yet so, too, could they be to a monster's.
So, with a gentle grind and a rather sudden halt in your thrusts, you slide the hand you had kept wrapped around his stomach—the one not resting above his mons, keeping him perfectly in place for you—up to his throat, past his jaw, right to his lips.
Cyno positively whines when your hand clasps—snug but not tight, not rough at all—across his mouth. He huffs hotly into your palm, but he's muffled, then, when he cries out again at the next thrust of your hips.
"Keep quiet for me," you groan—muted, of course, because you are not a hypocrite. The sound of your heavy breaths, of Cyno's quiet moans: they won't carry out into the desert, beyond the hanging fabric of the eremite's tent.
This time, he nods, all shaky n' weak. His cunt clenches tight around you, wet and slick and delicious on your cock. It is divine, even with sand itching at both of your legs.
You tell him such. "God, Cyno," you say, groaning low into his sensitive ear. "You feel perfect, all f'r me.
"I almost—" you pause, a satisfied moan of your own crawling from your chest. "I almost wish they stayed to watch. It'd give me a chance to show 'em how pretty you are, yeah? The fearsome General Mahamatra, whimpering and cumming all over my cock."
True to your word, he whimpers. You grin. "That's right, baby. They'd wanna join in, too—I wouldn't let them, of course. You're all mine, aren't'cha?"
"Mhm! Mhm!" His frantic nods almost dislodge your hand, forces you to hold his face a bit tighter. He moans, tonguing at the minute gap of your fingers.
"Easy, sweetheart, easy," you murmur, pulling him closer to you, pulling him closer to your cock. "Still close?" He keeps nodding. "Good, good. Cum whenever you wanna, Cy; cum whenever you want."
He holds you true to that promise, moaning and licking sloppy-like across your fingers in a desperate bid to ground himself, to keep him quiet in the orgasm running through his veins. His cunt creams around you, a milky-white at the base of your cock drip-dripping to the blankets below—just the way you wanted.
"God—" you groan, splaying your hand across his navel, away from his cock, "Just—just a lil' while longer, baby. Look at you, creaming all over yourself. Gonna be leavin' them eremites a pretty surprise, hm? Comin' back h-home, proof of us here, our claim here, my claim on you—" And just like that, you tumble over your own edge.
Cyno makes a weak sound—halfway between a mewl and a whine and a whimper all the same—, cunt milking you in gentle undulations. You fill him right on up, right to the brim, sticky cum spilling out between his hole and your cock.
It's so, so beautiful; the contrast of his dark skin against the opaque white of his and your cum both is absolutely tantalizing.
With a huff, you drop your hand covering his mouth to the mess on the blanket. He coughs, once, licking at his lips when you capture the cum on your fingertips.
"We made a mess," you mumble, the stuff sticky between your fingers; you then take hold of his hips with both hands, dragging yourself out of his cunt. He flops to the blanket and immediately leaks, just slightly but enough—enough to dribble to the blanket. "Not so hot, now."
Breathless, Cyno laughs. "Nah," he mumbles, rolling to his back and smiling up at you—God, he's so pretty. He's all bright scarlet eyes and ruddy cheeks, and you simply can't resist finger-brushing though his tangled hair. Then, rather suddenly, he sits up, alarm in his eyes. "Hey."
You raise a brow. "What's—" he reaches up to cover your mouth.
"Did you have a license?"
"What?"
At your confusion, he only grins. "A license to cum in me. A spermit."
High off your orgasm—floating in post-coitus bliss—, you laugh. You fucking laugh, and you know you're encouraging him; but you find you don't really mind—not when you so adore this little dork of yours.
And when he giggles beneath you, too, you're taken by him even more, his antics and all. This Cyno is your Cyno, even if you're not at your home.
(He'll insist you bring the blanket; he will claim, as you're hauling it back with the satchel full of contraband, of those knowledge capsules you've come to detest, that this is your first walk as a family.
You, no longer post-coitus, will wallop him for it.)
i went through several websites for cum-related puns . . . i cannot do him any justice. he's so funny, unironically (not in this fic but. in the game !) i hope hope hope this fulfills ur imagination, anon !!
20 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#【 ✨ 】#the title is another pun . i apologize .#(in-tents . . . intense . . .)#sub cyno#cyno x reader#sub genshin#genshin x reader#top reader#amab reader#dom reader#genshin smut#trans smut#yeah . .
503 notes
·
View notes
Note
So, I have it in my head that Kyojuro’s nipples are really sensitive (and if he doesn’t have much experience then I don’t think he would know that), but I think someone could get him real hot and bothered just by playing with them (and fuck it is so hot when big strong guys like their titties played with, amiright??)
🥹🙏🏼 could please have a drabble of someone figuring that out? Maybe both him and whoever’s getting their paws under his shirt figuring it out together? Sitting in his lap and teasing him for however long —light, tiny little pinches that make him squirm and whimper, warm, swirling circles with your fingertips that make his jaw drop open, fluttering nudges and flicks that make his hips buck under you. Anything you do to them gets a reaction, could do it for hours, but five minutes of it and he’s a wiggly, panting mess, but he doesn’t want you to stop so you try putting one in your mouth and—- 😈🥵
Dear anon baby, you are so fucking right. This is indeed very hot. When I saw this I KNEW this was way too good to dismiss this delicious idea. I am just so sorry for answering this so late. I hope you are still around and I hope you enjoy it!
Weak Spot
Warnings: suggestive, nipple play, nipple teasing, dry humping, smut
Word Count: 701
Pairing: Kyojuro x Reader
crossposted on AO3
You were sitting on your favorite place in this whole world and that was your boyfriend's lap. You liked how his muscular and big thighs felt under your thighs. In the beginning of your relationship you were so self conscious, not sure if your weight crushed him, but Kyojuro assured you that you weighed nothing for him. After you made sure that he was not lying to make you feel better for your weight, you started to sit more often on his lap as this was a way to be as close as possible.
It was winter and you started to feel cold, searching for some heat that you knew that your boyfriend would provide. Your mind was absent when your hand wandered under his shirt, laying your hand on his chest and stroking his skin.
A little gasp was to be heard and you lifted your head to see into your boyfriend's eyes who was starting to blush.
“Kyojuro honey, are you okay?” Curious you furrowed your eyebrows
“Hm, yes yes. It’s nothing!”
“If you say so…”
You thought nothing of it and placed your head on his shoulder again and continued your stroking. Your fingers accidentally brushed his nipples and then you heard it again. That little sweet gasp of his. Can it be…? Now your hands slid over his chest not involuntarily but carefully, brushing against his nipple until you heard him holding back a whimper. Oh he is sensitive there… A mischievous idea came into your mind and your fingers were now circling around his nipple to tease him lightly.
“My flame…” His voice was strained, as he was trying to gain his last self control, his face completely red. “Please…”
“Please what…?” Your fingers didn’t stop drawing circles around his nipple until you decided to give them a very slight flick. That caused him to buck his hip under you. He realized what he had just done and his face turned into a scarlet tone, embarrassed over his own reaction.
You undid his shirt and revealed those sweet manly titties that you were keen to explore now. You continued to stroke them with your fingers. And his jaw actually fell open when you were fluttering nudges and started to flick his nipples. The bulge of his, under your lap, was pushing against your ass and thigh. His skin was too hot and you decided that he needed a cool off by your mouth.
You drawed out your tongue, licking first his chest before you finally got to your desired target. You heard him whimper as he wiggled under you but did nothing to push you away. He enjoyed this far too much even if you overstimulated him.
Kyojuro was truly a mess. It was the first time he experienced those things and he was not sure how further he could go. His skin was tingling and feeling hot. His pants were incredibly tight and he worried that his zipper wouldn’t hold his dick anymore if you continued to play with his chest like this. Things didn't get any better when you started to dry hump him, causing more friction. That’s it. It was impossible to hold back his moan. He grabbed tightly on your waist as he tried to stop your hips from moving.
His strength was remarkable and something that had always turned you on, but this did not stop you from continuing your play with his nipples. So you went further, licked and bit his chest, eliciting all those sweet moans and whimpers from him, while his hands bruised your waist. You did not mind at that point. You would wear those love marks with pride.
You did a quick cat lick. It felt so deliciously warm after all that preparation you had done. So beautiful red and puckered. You sunk your teeth into his nipple and that was the moment where he came undone, trembling as he gasped for air. You felt how his cock was twitching under you and a wet spot forming on his pants. A satisfied smile was on your lips as you gave him a kiss on his lips.
“I guess we found out your weak spot, my love.”
#sunnys work#sunny answers ☀︎#demon slayer#demon slayer drabble#kimetsu no yaiba drabble#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#kny drabble#kyojuro rengoku#kyojuro x you#kyojuro x reader#kyojuro x y/n#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x y/n#rengoku x you#rengoku x reader#fluff#dom reader#dom!reader#sub!kyojuro#sub kyojuro#chubby reader#chubby!reader#kyojuro smut#kny smut#smut
529 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi sweetie! ill kill every mean anon🫶 hope ur doing okay ><
thinking about the hyungs trying to get won in no nut november and hes just like “i am not doing that shit when i have a hot gf go die”😭like sorry that man gets obsessed with u and u cant convince me otherwise!! dancers hips and stamina too u dont stand a chance 🤭
pairings: yang jungwon x f! reader
warnings: silliness + no nut november + creampies + praise + breeding + pregnancy ment ?
💌: thank u for defending my honor, lovebug <3 and thx to u im havin so many NNN ideas T_T help
thinkin’ about you challenging wonie to hold out for no nut november ‘nd he can’t believe his ears like !!! you expect him to hold out for a whole MONTH?? he’s so infatuated with you he can’t go a day without burying his cock ballsdeep in your cunt <3
but you have him wrapped around your pinkie so he decides to try for you! he’s so dramatic n down so bad, he’s at the gates of hell 😭 texts you every day begging for spare pussy bc he’s a weak man! and you know he loves stuffing you full of his cum n breeding you, so you just tell him to wait n that it’ll be worth it because he’s saving his cum for u and it’ll “def be a thick load, wonie!” n the giddiness in your voice at the thought of him knockin’ you up nearly makes him cum </3 but he holds off for you !!!
well he tries to. at day 15 jungwon starts getting too handsy after seeing you walk around in nothing but one of his oversized shirts and panties, pawing at your tits and pulling you on his lap whenever you walk by him, grinding his clothed cock against you and moaning at the stimulation. his voice is whiney and breathy and so sexy, you can’t deny him any longer.
he doesn’t even bother going to your bedroom, he just lays you beneath him on the couch, hands clumsy as he undresses himself and tears your panties off, cock leaking so much precum it leaves a wet sheen on his length. wonie slips his dick inside too quickly and it makes you hiss, his thick cock stretching you out nicely after being empty for so long. “fuck, i missed this pretty pussy,” he groans, dizzy at the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in greedily. “don’t know how you expected me to hold off for a month, i can’t live without this.”
his praises make your tummy flutter and he’s so pussydrunk they come out like word vomit, his eyes squeezed shut as his pace becomes sloppy, not even pulling out all the way anymore, just grinding his hips into yours while continuing to moan out sweet words.
“so fucking wet, your poor cunt missed me too, huh? missed me fuckin’ my cum into your womb and breeding you? ‘m so close, princess — oh god — need to fuck a baby into you.”
jungwon thrusts into you one last time before his orgasm washes over him, the feeling of his hot cum shooting directly into your womb causing your own climax, shaking and whining as he fucks you through it. he cums so much it feels neverending, painting your innerwalls a creamy white.
you were right, his first load after weeks of not cumming is so insanely thick it spills out of you as soon as he pulls out, globs of his seed making a mess of your cunt and it’s quite a sight, making wonie’s cock twitch.
#♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.the honeypot#yizhoutv#this was supposed to be silly but idk what happened#can u tell i didnt know how to end this??? i tried!!!!#enhypen#yang jungwon#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#yang jungwon x reader#yang jungwon smut#💌.breeding#💌.creampies#💌.praise kink#💌.pregnancy
760 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?
My fault.
Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.
A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️
(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)
with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏
anyways, enjoy!
(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)
•○🌑○•
Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.
"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.
"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"
Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."
Y/n nodded absently.
They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.
It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.
Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.
When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"
"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."
Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.
"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"
Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"
"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"
Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."
It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-
That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.
Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.
She hated herself for it.
Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.
"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."
Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.
Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.
Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.
"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.
"Take care, Y/n."
Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."
•○🌑○•
Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.
Y/n came up lacking.
Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.
That he loved her.
She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.
She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.
The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.
That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.
"When will you stop being clumsy?"
He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.
"What?"
He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"
His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.
"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.
"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.
Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.
She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.
And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.
Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.
She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.
She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.
She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.
Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.
Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.
Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.
The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.
"Yes? How can I help you?"
Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.
"I- is Cassian here?"
The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"
Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."
Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"
"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.
A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."
Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.
"Can I have a word? In private?"
The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."
Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.
She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.
"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.
When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.
The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.
Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."
His brows furrowed. "Hi..."
She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"
He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."
His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."
She nodded. "I can tell."
Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.
"I- I can explain-"
Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."
He blinked again. "What? You... what?"
She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."
His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.
"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."
Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"
His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.
"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"
Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.
"Y/n-"
But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.
But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.
And he had tears in his eyes.
"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"
Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.
"Mates?" She whispered.
Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."
Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.
She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.
"Good night."
She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392
Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter
#cassian#cassian x you#cassian x reader#acosf#cassian acotar#cassian acosf#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fandom#acotar fanfic#acotar fluff#acotar series#acotar writing#night court#General of night court#lord of bloodshed#mating bond#sarah j maas#acotar headcanon
373 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hifwo
Pair: Neteyam x Y/N human reader
Warning: All characters are in their 20s (grow up), flirting, size difference, mmm I think nothing else
Request: (Anon) I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall...
AVATAR MASTERLIST
It was the fourth time Neteyam had checked that you were safe in the place where he had left you. You wanted to go hunting with him. Lo'ak had invited you to go for a walk with him and spider, kiri and tuk but you preferred to be with him. He liked you to stay with him, so you would see and learn how to hunt. But on the other hand, he was a little nervous about you being in a place as dangerous as the jungle of pandora. You were a human, anything was bigger than you, including him. Neteyam comes down from the branch he was on, causing him to make a startling noise as he falls right in front of you. You look up in alarm, and frustrate your brow. "teyam you scare me!!!" you whine a little, but your attention returns to the notebook in your hands. You were drawing some mushrooms that were next to you, they were very brightly colored.
"Sorry babe, but you're distracting me" neteyam says, coming a little closer to sit right in front of you. Touching your naked feet, he liked to play with your little toes. You laugh when you feel his cold hands, touching your feet. "Me? Why? I haven't moved from here" you speak, working on your drawing. "'Babe…" neteyam pauses, lowering his head to your knee, to kiss you on the knee. You look up, laughing at the action. You knew that neteyam's way of showing affection was more physical than yours, at first it made you uncomfortable. But by now you were used to it. This poor man was just asking to be loved and pampered after a busy day of chores that his father usually ordered him to do.
"You are so small, any creature could eat you" says neteyam, now he was sitting down. You laughed at his comment, you knew he was right. But you were not as weak as you looked, you knew you could run away from any creature. "Teyam you offend me, you know? I think I am very good at running away, not fighting…but I can run fast" you speak, with a tone of playfulness. Neteyam just looked at you with adoration, you were so cute. "Mmm I don't think so" says Neteyam. You lift your back a little off the back you were sitting on. Giving a punch to neteyam's chest, neteyam just watches as your punch doesn't have any effect on him. "Ok, I give up… but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to run away" you say.
Neteyam is silent for a moment, he was thinking what he would do in his next move. He chuckles to himself, as he begins to rise to his knees. " You think you can run away, ah?" asks neteyam in a flirty tone. As he lines up and slides over your body. Which in a matter of seconds, was covered by neteyam's. His whole body created a blanket that covered every view you had of you, raising your head to see neteyam's cute face. He had an idiot's grin on his face, analyzing how small you had become underneath him. You try to speak, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a 'I-hum-'. You were blushing so hard, damn it he knew the effect it had on you. Netayam bends lower, so that he is now close to your ear.
You could feel his breathing, his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. "The creatures I speak of are much larger than me… they would have no mercy on you" neteyam places one of his hands, on the side of your thigh. Squeezing the soft skin, moving his palm gently up and down. Your breathing becomes more heaving, it was making you very nervous. "They would devour you in seconds" neteyam now leaves a kiss on your neck. Causing you to giggle from the tickle. "Nete…" you whimper a little. The feeling in your lower belly was building up, but he just replies you with a 'hmmm' as he continues to leave kisses on your shoulders and neck. You were grateful for the outfit kiri had prepared for you, it allowed neteyam to have all the access he wanted to your body.
"would you like to know how long it would take me to devour you?" neteyam pauses from kissing, waiting for an answer from you. You, as best you can, place your hands on the sides of her face. Your hands were so small, you could barely hold part of his jaw. You approach him to give him a soft kiss on the lips, now making eye contact with him (if you want to know more about the type of oxygen mask the reader uses 'read here'). Neteyam gives you a smile, and copies your movements. But now he settles more on the ground, so that he lies more on his stomach. Causing you to spread your legs, allowing him to settle more on top of you. Kissing your neck, moving down your chest to leave some wet kisses. Feeling your hands tangle in his hair, feeling your hands push him further down…right where you were needing him most.
Kissing and giving a few soft bites on your stomach. Enjoying the difference in texture of your skin, so soft and delicate. Dragging his body further back, placing his hands on either side of your hips. You now bring your legs up, watching as one of neteyam's hands moves one of your knees to open the space between your legs.
You two were so intent on your business that you had barely heard the lazy noises that were approaching you. Neteyam in a quick, and almost minimal movement moved up towards your lips giving you a sloppy kiss. "I don't see you running…don't you plan to run away?" he joked, seeing how your cheeks were pink, your mouth half open. And your pupils dilated, waiting for him to do what he wants with you. "So pretty" says neteyam.
"ahhhh my eyes!!!" screams spider. Neteyam and you look in the direction where the scream came from. Noticing lo'ak, kiri and spider. Even tuk…who had her mouth open. Spider runs up to tuk and covers her eyes. You push as hard as you can on neteyam, and he quickly sits up. Trying to adjust some of the clothes he had moved from his previous actions. Neteyam crosses his legs tightly and tries to cover his growing bulge with his hands. "You two can't be doing your stuff over here" kiri speaks, the girl was furious. You shift your gaze, you were embarrassed.
"I don't see you running,eh?" lo'ak tries to imitate neteyam's voice. "You can go…why don't you take tuk to the village" says neteyam, sounding annoyed. His brothers were still bothering him, and you were hiding more on the log.
The group of boys walk away, but if not before they continue to joke about the scene they just saw. Neteyam looks at you, and can see that you are almost completely hidden in a bush that was next to you. And he couldn't contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?" you are embarrassed, the least you wanted is for your friends to see you in that situation. Neteyam approaches you again, placing his hand on your neck. "I see you can really run away…you're practically hiding in this corner" neteyam bends down to brush his nose against yours. "How about we go somewhere else…yeah?" says neteyam. You stare at him for a couple of seconds, quickly picking yourself up off the ground starting to run as fast as you can. Listening as neteyam laughs, and starts to get up from the ground. Letting you run for a while, after all it was only fair that he gave you a head start.
#avatar the way of water#avatar x y/n#avatar 2022#avatar x reader#avatar x you#female y/n#human reader#human y/n#neteyam imagine#neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x human!reader#na’vi x reader#na'vi x human#neteyam fic#avatar way of water#neteyam x fem reader#neteyam x female reader#neteyam smut#neteyam sully#avatar neteyam#neteyam oneshot
948 notes
·
View notes
Note
OMG ive got smth else for u
Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭
I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER
IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE
I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER
anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???
this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!
how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH
on my knees right now???
the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.
and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.
the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.
you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.
and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.
the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.
you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.
“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.
he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.
“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.
“it’s… mine?”
simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”
what the fuck?
he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”
fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-
“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”
to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.
“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”
you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.
“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.
but how could you ever?
“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”
he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.
“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”
so clearly i went fucking bonkers-
SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD
#suns.hc#biker!simon#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#anon#ask#suns#IM ACTUALLY GONNA SCTRSM AND CHEW ON MY FIST HHDHWJENEJJE
733 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyy! I loved the request you wrote about reader finding Hazbin Hotel characters crying and then comforting them, I was thinking, could you write a pt. 2 adding some other characters? maybe Charlie, Husk, Sir Pentious and Adam, or anyone else you’d like 💓💕💞💖
OMG TYSM!! honestly, that is one of my works that i am EXTREMELY proud of and hearing people enjoying that one is just 😭😭
but yes i can certainly do that haha hope you enjoy!!
also side note, since i got two requests that are pretty similar, i’m doing a two-in-one sorta thing!! so i hope this makes it to the anon who requested it :)
Warnings: Swear Words, S1 Spoilers, Mentions of Battles/War, Mentions of Possible Death, Mentions of Deals, Mentions of Degradation, Not Proofread
Adam, Charlie, Husk, Sir Pentious x Reader
Reader finds them crying HCs
Adam
Adam was never one for tears, he was a man, the first one at that! His pride would never let himslef ever be perceived as weak.
But once he got sent to Hell, after his death during the extermination, while that damn snake was in his place — the only feeling he felt was weakness.
Adam had stayed in his room in the hotel ever since he came, begrudgingly that is, he didn’t want to be here. He shouldn’t be here.
But somehow, Charlie somehow let him come, much to his surprise, as well as dismay, but let’s be real here, he’d he pissed either way.
He curled up against the pillow, sighing, shakily, as hot tears slipped down his cheeks. “Damnit.”
Unbeknownst to him, a knock came from the other side of the door, Charlie made you drop off Adam’s ‘Welcome Package’ — When you didn’t get a response you creaked open the door.
“Adam?” You called from the other side of the room. He didn’t look at you, he couldn’t look at you.
“Leave.” He said, his voice cracking, despite the fact that he was attempted to hold back his sobs.
You set down his basket from Charlie on his nightstand. He felt his bed dip as you sat next to him. “It’s cause you’re here right?”
“The fuck are you talking about?” Adam sniffled. “Why you’re upset. It’s cause your here, right?” You elaborate.
He doesn’t say anything. You rub his knee, in attempts to comfort him. “I promise, it’s not as bad here as you think.”
You sigh. “I didn’t think it’d be great here when I first came here either, but this became my home - my family. You’ll get used to it, with time.”
Adam didn’t say anything. But deep down, his heart felt just a tad bit warmer from your words.
Charlie
Due to the upcoming extermination, Charlie was more stressed than ever, she was upset with herself. Upset that her and Heaven couldn’t band together. Upset that it had to end in this way.
Apart of herself grew to worry that maybe if she had been different, more normally, less singy-songy, Adam would’ve agreed.
Then no second meeting would’ve been necessary, no war would be needed.
The night before the battle was a tough one for Charlie, she loved and appreciated everyone she had met throughout her time, and within the blink of an eye, there was a 50/50 chance it’ll all be gone this time tomorrow.
“Charlie?” You called out to your girlfriend, who was crying infront of Angel’s door, “Sorry…” She mumbled, “I’m just so scared…” Her voice cracked, you’ve never seen her so… out of sorts, before.
“What if we lose?” She asked, rhetorically. “You’ve already done so much, Charlie.” You start, pulling her close, cupping her face.
“You’ve touched the hearts every soul here… Regardless of whether or not they admit it.” You run you fingers through her hair, you were scared to, scared shitless, but you put on a brave face. A brave face for her.
“So if it turns out that we don’t make it, there’s something that I’ve been dying to say.” You pull her into a hug, before mumbling in her ear, “You need to know I love you more than anything.”
Husk
You had caught Husk in his vulnerability at a private time. You knew about his deal with Alastor, but never knew the extent of it.
“Good talk, my good man, always nice to catch up!” Alastor said, leaving Husker defenseless, shaking on the floor, as you hid on the other side of the hall.
Husk got up, slowly, and then leaned against the wall, muttering a small ‘Damnit…’
You approached him, “Are you okay?” You ask, very hesitantly, you know Husk is more of a listener then someone to vent, but there was no harm in trying.
Husk sighs, low and gruff, but so hurt, it hurt you. “Made a shitty deal I regret, and I can’t take it back, y’know.” Husk answered, using his claw to wipe a few tears from under his eyes.
You’re unsure of what to do, you’ve never seen him like this, you smile at him softly, and open your arms for him, “Hug?”
Husk chuckles at your innocent antics, “Seriously?” He asks with a smirk, “Totally seriously!”
He sighs jokingly, clambering over to you, accepting your embrace. “This is so stupid.”
“You know you love it!” And you’re right, he did.
Sir Pentious
It was no secret that Pentious wanted to be an equal to the Vee’s, at least, before he officially started staying at the hotel.
And when Vox called him a ‘miserable failure’, it hit hard.
When Sir Pentious entered his room for the night, he shooed his eggs away, left with a sour taste in his mouth from Vox’s words.
A knock comes from Pentious’ door, he goes to answer it, trying to sniffle away his tears, he opened the door to see you.
“I just wanted to say you did a good thing, you’re willing to change even after you fucked up, and honestly I admire tha— Pentious, are you okay?” You rambled on, before getting a good look at his face.
He sniffled. “Y-Yes, I just.. don’t appreciate what Vox said about me.” He said, holding back his sobs, although not very well.
Your heart ached for the poor snake, you pulled him into a hug and patted him on the back, “If he can’t see the amazing Pentious I see, then he’s not worth it, we only met today, but I can already see what a wonderful person you are.”
#hazbin hotel#mio’s writing ! ☆#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#x y/n#x you#hazbin adam#adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#charlie magne x reader#charlie hazbin#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie x reader#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel husker#husk#husker hazbin hotel#husk x reader#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#husk hazbin hotel#husker x reader#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel sir pentious
217 notes
·
View notes
Note
Astarion owns property in my head at this point. Can I request for Astarion and Tav where they finally settle down after everything with the Absolute is over and has finally calmed down, and Tav immediately gets extremely sick. Nothing deadly, but still severe. After all the stress from the tadpoles and fighting for their lives, Tav's body kinda just gives out. I'd imagine Astarion would be at a complete loss at taking care of someone, let alone someone that sick lol probably gets scared they're dying too
Oh, Anon, I feel you. It's not that he lives in my head rentfree, no! He owns the building and makes ME pay the rent by now...
This request resonates a lot with me, today, because I'm frankly barely holding on atm, my stomach's acting up and I can't wait for the finishline for this week... so I too could actually use some Astarion taking care of me - although if that might help? Let's see! (Spoilers ahead)
This is pure ridiculous fluff btw. And thank you for the sweet request!
Pairing: Astarion / GN!Tav (You)
Wordcount: 1,5k
Strawberry Sugar High
You hadn't left the bed for the better part of a week and you felt you had contracted most every kind of ailment that one could suffer from under this sun. You felt shaky and dizzy. Your limbs hurt and felt weak. Your stomach was in a weird limbo of feeling strange and barely allowing you to keep anything down. Radiating heatwaves making your whole body sweat came and switched places with icy chills so even the coziest of blankets couldn't stop you from shivering. You were down bad - and Astarion almost scaled the walls not knowing what to do with you or how to take care of you.
"My sweet, I brought you...", Astarion started to announce cheerfully as he opened the door to your bedroom with a bowl and a steaming mug in his hands. Then he saw how you had hogged every possible piece of fabric in your giant joint bed and had wrapped yourself in it. At the sight of it, Astarion's shoulders slumped visibly and with it his procured goods - which almost caused scorching hot tea to splash on the floor.
“…some fruit and tea”, he finished audibly distraught and walked over to sit somewhat next to where you had rolled up into a mess of sheets and blankets and were silently shivering. He carefully placed down mug and bowl on the nightstand before he turned to the pile that you had become.
“I really thought you were getting better, my love!” The sad and suffering puppy eyes he made at you almost made you think he was the one to be worried about.
“Y-you say t-that every-ytime you le-leave the room and co-ome back, A-Astarion”, you replied through shattering teeth which sadly took the edge off of your snide remark.
“I know, love. Because every time I hope you might would have started to feel better. But you’ve been like this for almost a week and yet no improvement in sight. You have me worried sick!”, he dramatically explained.
The shivers temporarily left your body to allow you to give Astarion a death stare – the audacity of this man. “I am so terribly sorry that I dare put you through th-this. Now please h-hand me the t-tea!”, you sarcastically replied and worked your hands out of the mountain of blankets to stretch them out towards the nightstand where the vampire had placed the mug.
Astarion handed you the mug. “Careful, it’s scorching ho…”, he said while you grabbed it from him and placed your palms around the hot ceramic and sighed at the bliss of warmth.
Astarion stared at you as if you had turned into an ox.
You took in the smell of the fresh brew and sighed again – pine needles, mint, chamomile, and a hint of lavender. You took a sip slowly because it was actually really hot and closed your eyes for a second. The hot drink temporarily made you feel better.
“You really got the right mixture down now, Astarion, thank you!”, you said as you opened your eyes again and smiled broadly at the vampire who had swung his legs onto the bed and crossed them by the ankles – bare feet sticking out of the pant legs – to sit beside you. At your compliment his face lit up, his eyes filling with sincere joy.
“Well, I’m happy to hear I am proficient at taking care of you, my sweet sick darling”, he said and raised one of his eyebrows in arrogant manner. “Well, let’s not forget the time when you didn’t strain the pine needles or when you tried to make mushroom soup and created bile”, you replied to his cocky demeanour and then took another sip of tea. The shivers were really calming down now.
Astarion’s mouth became a straight line. “Well, I am sorry, but it’s been over two hundred years since I last had to know my way around a kitchen – you’d be surprised how easily forgotten mundane things are”, he pouted but stretched out his arm to rub circles on your back – or what he thought must be your back under the thick padding of fabric.
You were fairly certain, Astarion had never really known his way around a kitchen, but you really didn’t want to rub it in since he was actually trying so hard to take care of you. And he had really been worried sick about you since it seemed he had also forgotten how much impact even a rather harmless sickness could have on a mortal body.
“Feeling better now?”, Astarion asked while he kept rubbing your back. This time there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or arrogance in his tone, just a sincere, caring question.
“I am. Thank you, my heart”, you answered and turned a bit to him to give him another smile. “I guess after everything that happened my body was just in dire need of a break – and now forced me to take it. I guess in a few days I’ll be merrily dallying around again”, you spoke as you looked at Astarion but then spied past him to where you had seen something of interest in the bowl he had brought.
“I’m happy to hear that, my sweet, because I don’t know…”, the vampire replied with a smile then furrowed his brows as he saw your focus shift past him and you leaned to look behind him. He made to lean with you. “My beautiful eyes are up here, my love”, he murmured playfully.
But you craned your neck now to see what it was he had brought you – broad shoulders and handsome face be damned. “Gods, are those strawberries?” “Indeed, sweetheart.”
Your mouth opened and you stared at Astarion in anticipation: “Where did you get them? Those are not in season for a few more months! I love strawberries, they’re my favourite fruit, no, food!” Your eyes gleamed at the vampire who replied with a smug grin: “I know, darling. I am actually a good listener in case you hadn’t noticed yet.”
You stretched to give him a kiss which almost resulted in you falling over and spilling all of the remaining tea. Your heart filled with an incredible amount of joy – not only because there were strawberries to be had, but because you felt so seen by your soulmate. You smiled at Astarion. “Indeed, you are”, you happily cheered him. He smiled back just as warmly.
“I got them from a place where they magically empower the crops. It did almost cost me an arm and the rest of my dignity though, but here we are”, he explained jokingly to which you raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
“Feed me!”, you then demanded excitedly when he didn’t spill any more details. To which the vampire grinned even more broadly, showing his sharp fangs in the process. “Oh love, I am more than happy to indulge you in this pleasant reversal of roles”, he crooned and turned around to grab the bowl of fruit while you kept sipping on your herbal tea.
He grabbed one of the deep red fruits and slowly lifted it to your already excitedly opened mouth. You were almost salivating, as Astarion offered you the berry, holding it elegantly in his long, slender fingers. The fruit almost touched your lips, but then, at the last possible moment: the vampire flicked it in his own mouth with his thumb.
Your mouth stayed open but now in a desperate expression while Astarion chewed. His facial expression became confused then pleasantly surprised, not even looking at you for a moment. “Oh dear, these are actually rather good. I had almost also forgotten how good these taste. I haven’t eaten a strawberry in forever.” He gave a quick high-pitched laugh while still looking a bit confused. This certainly had awoken a memory he had probably thought lost forever. But still – weren’t these for you?
“Excuse me, my tragic darling vampire, I really love you rediscovering your love for these mortal pleasures known as fruit, but weren’t these meant to soothe my sufferings?”, you said and pouted at Astarion. He readily replied by finally offering you one – for real this time, while he smirked at you and stole another one for himself.
As you bit down the taste just about exploded in your mouth. They were perfectly delicious and sweet. You sighed blissfully and let your head fall back with closed eyes. You were definitely feeling better by the minute.
“So good! Thank you so much for getting them – I feel so much better already!”, you said to Astarion and shimmied over to him to first lean past him and put the mug on the nightstand and then hugging him – arms extending from your ball of blankets.
Astarion pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re welcome, my love. Now – share the rest?” “Only if you promise to get more tomorrow!”
The pale elf threw his head back and laughed. “If that is what it takes to nurse you back to health, I am more than happy to oblige, sweetheart”, he promised with a chuckle before he gave you another of the sweet berries and then popped another strawberry in his own mouth.
Author's note: Okay cool, where do I get strawberries now? Hope you enjoyed!
#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x you#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#strawberries#drabble#one shot#request
591 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆ ⼂ ALL FOR LOVE ﹗
ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, specific aus for every member 𓏧 alternatively where they ask you out on valentine's ㅤ warnings pet names ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k per member
ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ⋆ friend of a friend/crush skz seeing you read fluff on your phone 🤭💖 - anon. i did change it for valentine's day and made the request a part of the story but not the main one.
◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›
idol AU! best friends to lovers
now playing: sparks fly by taylor swift
Valentine’s Day is stupid! This is the first thought that registers in your mind as you enter the JYP building and see a whole bunch of staff congratulate a couple who you figure got together today. Your pace quickens courtesy of another urging text from Chan lighting up your phone and you groan at his impatience.
Knocking on their practice room door, you patiently await the frisking process before entering it. Your eyebrows scrunch back in confusion when you don’t hear or see anything happen. You knock the second time and nothing! Weird!
Your eyes travel to your phone where the texts from your best friend have stopped coming too, you text him a quick and short sentence about the door not opening. You wait for some more moments before knocking for the third time, and your patience gets better as you twist the room handle.
To your surprise, it opens easily and your frown visibly. Your eyes stray around the dark room as you place your foot in and turn on your phone's flashlight. But before you can do that, the practice room lights up and you look up abruptly and gasp loudly at the banner hanging from the ceiling- “L/n y/n, will you be my valentine?”
“What the-" your voice trails off taking in the low lighting bouncing off the red walls of the room and traces over the rose petals on the floor.
“Will you be my valentine?” You scream in surprise at the voice behind you and turn to see Chan standing there with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses on the other hand.
“You like me?” you speak up, words stuttering a lot more than you would like them to and his dimples appear as he smiles saying, “Yes, idiot I do.”
You like Chan, in fact, you like him a lot, to the point where pining over him is painfully obvious to everyone else. But Chan could not know that because he is oblivious enough when it comes to you. Your confusion must have been visible on your face because Chan promptly answers, “I know because I caught you reading a fluff fanfiction the other day during our practice.” A short pose follows and he continues, “About me. And after that, it wasn’t tough to interpret.”
Your face falls, he laughs at your endearing expression, and you whisper, “How?” You are very careful while reading fan fiction and never slip up. Not that you are regretting it right now.
“Mirrors reflect your screen, love,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling into half-moons and you pout in realisation. You look up and suddenly get shy and overwhelmed. The flowers, chocolate, decorations and the day itself come rushing back to you and you realise your best friend has asked you out and you have kept him hanging for the last ten minutes.
“I,” your breath falters before you muster a weak and small, “Yes, I will be,” before happy tears roll down your cheeks. Great, now you are crying like the emotional shit you are.
“Oh baby, don’t cry,” Chan hugs you grinning lightly and placing a kiss on top of your head and you croak, “These are happy tears, Channie.” His laugh vibrates along his body making you happier in his warm embrace, you look up and smile through the glossy eyes and he whispers, “I am sorry it took me so much time to understand, I am so stupid.”
“That you are,” a laugh leaves your throat and he fakes an offended face making you laugh louder and he whispers, “Shut up.” “Make me,” you tease and he chuckles before encasing your lips into a sweet kiss.
◗ ៹ LEE MINHO ›
college AU! enemies to lovers
now playing: let me move you by sabrina carpenter
He is beauty, he is grace. He is Lee Minho the menace. Why did you have to pair up with this reincarnation of the devil for a dance project? Your heavy pants echo in the room after you run the practice and look at the clock. Half an hour late!
You know very well he does this to rile you up on purpose because the said boy is the definition of punctuality. He just finds special interest in setting all your nerves on fire. You sigh in annoyance as you plop down on the floor. Scrolling through Instagram you double tap on the posts with every one of your friends posting something with their significant others.
Frankly, you were surprised when Minho asked you to practice with him today. It is Valentine’s Day and according to him his mood will be “sappy” and “tired from fourteenth wheeling his friends” so practising is much better. You have nothing better to do either so you decided to agree.
Which was clearly a mistake.
You scroll absentmindedly before opening up the fanfiction you had left the other day. Resting your head on the wall you put on your ear-pods and start reading. The scene is really cute and you can feel yourself gushing and squealing lightly at the cute behaviour of the leads.
Minho has been watching you quietly gush over it for the past ten minutes loving your giggles. He reads a few lines over your shoulder smiling to himself at the thought of you and him doing it. You seem to like nose kisses and light pecks a lot, he registers as he continues reading from your screen.
You have not seen he has come in and he is thankful as he slides beside you on the floor. You jump up as he rips off one of the ear-pods and slips it inside his ear. All this happens too fast and you squeak trying to hide your phone.
“Lee What the fuck?” you scream but he shrugs you try to snatch back your earpods but he holds your hand saying, “I love this song, finally something you listen to that doesn’t suck,” he grins in a sinister manner and your protest goes to deaf ears as the beats of ‘Let Me Move You’ enters your ears.
Sabrina’s voice fills your ear and Minho glides you to the dance floor in a modern pop couple dance. He twirls you around and you laugh at the cliché steps as he holds you from the back after spinning you. The mischievous smile works its way up on his month and you giggle at the little out-of-routine fun you two are having.
You feel your heart racing as his hands slide down your waist and spin you around he grins matching your smile as you circle your arms around his neck and dance matching the fast beats. The prelude comes and you sway gently and then tap your feet as Minho sings the lyrics lightly making his voice sing-song at the “one, two, three dance with me tonight” line.
Your style matches so well that it makes you feel feral. He really was a great dancer.
The song ends and Minho holds you as you two pant looking at the mirror. The air becomes tense and your heart beats loudly and you blabber out before you can stop yourself, “You have a sweet smile when you are not scowling,” and add, “Not that I see it often.”
Stop talking, your mind screams but you continue, “I don’t like it that much”, liar. Have you noticed him smiling? Yes, the whole ‘enemies’ issue was a huge cliché in your head, and a part of you did hope and pray you would end up like the book couples.
“Yeah I know, you stare at it quite often,” he shrugs nonchalantly and your expression falters in a millisecond yet he never takes his eyes off yours on the mirror and continues, “It is very cliché to like your so-called enemy.”
Your pupils dilate and he chuckles, his soft hair bristling from the cooler of the room and before you can react he spins you and looks at you. Your cheeks grow warm at his intense gaze before he says, “I like you back.”
Your attitude returns with new-found confidence and you reply, “Now who is cliché? Asking me out on Valentine’s Day.” His shoulders shake from the laugh and you grin liking the new dynamic of you two. He dips his head pressing a light kiss on your nose and says, “I am but I can make what you read come true so shh.”
You shyly giggle registering he had earlier caught you reading fluff and pecking his lip you tease him saying, “Don’t make me wait, Lee.”
◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›
neighbours AU! friends to lovers
now playing: dancing in the kitchen by LANY
You stifle a yawn as you struggle to stay awake after a tedious day at work. You curse inwardly at the universe for making you so single. Valentine’s Day and no one to come home to and curl up in their embrace was absolutely cruel however much you try to convince yourself it isn’t.
So when you hear your doorbell ring you are pretty much confused as to who it can be. The pizza you ordered five minutes ago cannot arrive that fast. Walking in your fluffy stickers you open the door and your eyes turn into saucers at the person in front of you.
Your neighbour Seo Changbin is standing there with a pair of CDs in his hand and some clothes in the other. Looking carefully you noticed he also had a single rose under his CDs.
“I know I am fine, but my hands are cramping, so let me in and then gawk all you want,” Changbin deadpans and you quietly let him in the confusion not clearing at all as to why he is here. Shouldn’t he be on a date with someone? Anyone?
“Why are you here?” you ask and he gives you a face before saying, “It is Wednesday, don’t tell me you forgot our ritual.” Your confusion only grows but you still take the rose as he hands it to you saying, “It is Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be rude to not at least bring a flower.”
“Thanks,” you take it, warmth filling your whole face and you look away. Even though he is being really casual about it, everything is just making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your eyes fall on the CDs and you furrow your eyebrows and it finally hits you.
Oh. Oh.
Changbin, who apparently doesn’t have a date is here to spend his evening with you watching famous movies you haven’t watched before. You two started this ritual because you had randomly blurted it to him and his dramatic ass couldn’t handle you not seeing Mean Girls.
Since then every Wednesday you two watch one famous movie to “catch up” with the generation. You had initially rolled your eyes at his proposal but movie nights with Changbin became better as months went by.
“Don’t think too much and go put these on,” Changbin’s voice cuts in your thoughts and you look down to see pyjamas being handed to you. You don’t question him too much as you go inside and put it on. One thing you have learned is never to question Changbin.
Unless you want to hear a lecture.
You come out and your eyes widen as you realise why he told you to wear those. They were matching pyjamas. Oh. Your body warms up again as you realise you are now wearing matching pyjamas. Like a couple. Watching a movie. On Valentine’s Day. Like a couple.
You throw all thoughts about Changbin liking you behind your mind, he is a friend who helps you out and he is doing the same today. It is nothing much but your beating heart and crush on Changbin fails to live up to your convincement.
You walk towards the couch and watch his muscles flex as he brings the remote and turns on a movie called ‘10 Things I Hate About You’.
Like every other day he turns on the movie but unlike every other day, you find it very hard to focus when there is a whole zoo in your stomach. Just the mere thought of Changbin, who can get any date, spending Valentine’s Day with you is making you go feral. His head whips towards you as soon as you turn towards the screen.
It was a kiss scene. Oh.
You turn your head back to him and find him staring at you with a fiery intensity that you have never seen before. This is new, you think but you don’t miss the way his gaze obviously lingers on your lips before it moves up to your eyes. The air thickens and you hold your breath in mere anticipation.
So it is not only you. The roses and the pyjamas make so much more sense now.
“Changbin, if you want to do it, do it, do it, before we both start to regret it,” you whisper and the last part almost dies in your mouth as he presses his lips to yours. You fist his shirt as his hand caresses your cheek in the soft kiss and you can feel all the unspoken emotion and tension from the past few months.
Heck if you two weren’t so oblivious.
“I have always wanted to do this,” Changbin says, breathless as his lips hover over yours and your eyes hold his gaze and you whisper, “Me too.” He breaks into a grin and you smile lightly running your hands through his hair before he pushes you to the couch kissing you feverishly and the movie long forgotten.
Best Valentine’s ever!
◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›
high-school AU! childhood friend to lovers
now playing: 2002 by anne-marie
Your lips protrude in despair of your single life as you lean back on your chair and flip through the pages in your phone reading how much one of the leads works throughout Valentine’s Week to get the other lead.
“If you keep reading and sighing you will never get one in real life,” you jump up at Hyunjin’s voice and take a deep breath before deadpanning him. “Shut up,” you tell him and he raises an eyebrow settling down beside you as soon as the bell for first period rings.
The next day your eyes bulge in surprise as a single rose rests inside your locker. You pick it up and see the note attached to it- starting off slow a bit ;).
You narrow your eyes a little at the note and the rose and rack your head for anyone who likes you. The confusion rises when you don’t remember anyone and you suddenly wish it isn’t a prank. You keep the rose inside your bag and the note neatly in your back pocket. Sitting down, you see Hyunjin skip his steps and sit beside you casually whistling and you look at him.
“I got a rose today,” you trail off and he nods saying, “Good to know.”
“No Hyunjin, you don’t get it, what if this is a prank?” you whisper looking around to see if anyone is looking at you two and laughing at your stance. A chuckle escapes his throat as he looks at you saying, “It isn’t a prank.”
You scan his face and tilt your head and Hyunjin quickly amends, “I think.” You shake your head as the teacher enters, still feeling a little down about letting your intrusive thoughts win making you think it is Hyunjin.
The next day you deflate a little seeing nothing inside even though you are vaguely aware it is Propose Day and sigh lightly knowing I might well have just been a prank. Hyunjin seems surprisingly calm about the whole situation, any other time he would have made a whole deal about this and even though it irks you, you brush it off hating the dread in your stomach.
You are proved wrong when you find a box of chocolates the next day, with a note saying- Sorry can’t propose just yet. I hate your sad face, never make it again :(
You open the box hurriedly finding a mix of all kinds of your favourite chocolates and you look in the box, a custom-made one for gifts. Your heart warms at how thoughtful your secret admirer is and how whoever they are, is aware of your preferences. You open the wrap of one and pop it in your mouth, melting at the taste.
The next day you open your locker in anticipation and find a medium-sized teddy inside. Whispers of envy and awe pass through the hall as you lean on the door and read the note- My broke ass could only afford that, sorry. Forgive me?
You scrunch your nose at the cute tone of the letter and you whisper to yourself, “Of course I forgive you.” You skip your steps happily entering your class and see Hyunjin already there doing something with his camera. You stare at him unintentionally, eyes tracing over his flawless features and then feel guilty.
Obviously, someone else is trying to court you now, and you are still hanging over him, your childhood friend. You shake your head again as your mind fills with the possibility of the secret admirer being Hyunjin. No, he cannot be, he hardly seems interested whenever you talk to him about the gifts.
The next three days pass in a blur as your secret admirer makes up for the kiss and hug as a promise for later and you can’t help but feel giddy when Valentine’s Day comes. You try your best to not run to your locker but you end up speed-walking and open it quickly. Your eyes light up at another note from your admirer and you pick it up and read it.
Your brows furrow in confusion at the location mentioned as it was a park you used to go to when you were a kid. With Hyunjin, your mind registers and you push the voice to the back of your mind. Nevertheless, your secret admirer has told you to visit the spot so you will be right at the time mentioned.
The day feels extremely slow and boring and you run out of school when the bell rings. Hyunjin comes out too from his art class with the tube hanging from his shoulders and you hurry him up.
“Geez, what is with the enthusiasm?” he chuckles and you roll your eyes saying, “You would know if you ever listened to me.”
“Listen to you ranting about a person who is head over heels in love with you? I will do it soon,” he smiles and is met with another eye-roll from you as you two start walking. The walk is silent as your mind wanders over a few options on who can ask you out. There was Jongho from music class, Jungmo from Chemistry, Soobin from History, and Han the class president. No, he is after that girl named Alexa.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your trance but you reply without missing a beat, “A million won and I might tell you something.”
He lets out a light laugh and says, “We are at the place your secret admirer asked you to meet. You get surprised looking around and then the real question comes to your mind- how did Hyunjin know where you were asked to meet?
He can’t know because you didn’t tell him, unless…he is the secret admirer. Your head whips towards his direction and gasp loudly when you see the same paper in his hands. The paper in which the notes were sent.
“Hyunjin oh,” your voice dies down in your throat as you hold it up and a small whimper of emotion leaves your mouth. You open the paper and read the note- We used to play here and I have loved you since the time I knew what love was. Happy Valentine’s y/n
“You- you are, oh my,” your words stumble over and Hyunjin bites his lips smiling at you and you feel the warmth all over your beating heart. It spreads down your body and you find yourself dizzying from the rush of emotions.
“I like you, y/n,” Hyunjin speaks softly and his nose scrunches, his eyes turning into half-moons and he holds you as you look at him with adoration. “I like you too,” you stutter out and he giggles hugging you tighter.
“Now, how about the days we missed?” he speaks softly and you kick him lightly and his giggles tune-up to a full-blown laugh. Just like old times.
◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›
royal AU! forbidden lovers
now playing: fool’s gold by one direction
The evening sun lights up the sky in hues of golden and red and you sit on the grass in the royal garden opening your book. Being a general for the royal army wasn’t easy, especially for the commander-in-chief. So the breaks you get are the most cherished and thus you prefer to spend them in the garden instead of your quarters.
The peace and quiet, the smell of the flowers, the light buzzing of the bees and the warmth of the sun feel absolutely wonderful as you turn the pages of the book. You giggle lightly at the cute scenes of the romantic novel you are reading and smile when you read about how the leads are absolutely smitten with each other.
“Do not let our enemies see the general giggling like that over a romantic novel,” you turn your head at the familiar voice and raise your eyebrows saying, “Your Highness.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Sungie?” he pouts and you bite your lips restraining your hands from poking his cheeks. He adjusts his hanbok as he sits down and you keep the book beside you to read for later. Right now you have a big baby to attend you. You turn to him and see a pout already adorning his face from the lack of attention.
“What are you doing here, Your Highness?” you ask and he grins, his eyes lighting up as he holds out a flower to you and your eyes widen. “Han, don’t-" You cannot complete your sentence as he puts a finger on your lips and shushes you. You stare at him with parted lips and sigh again.
You cannot be doing this.
He is of royal blood and you are a mere commoner. It doesn’t matter if you are a high-ranking official or not at the end of the day you are not from any kind of royal blood. Heck, the only royal blood you have ever gotten is from killing or hurting royals.
“Since you aren’t saying anything, I will take that as my cue,” you hear him say and before you can protest he gently tucks the flower in your hair.
Your eyes betray every emotion you are feeling when you look at him but Han’s bright smile doesn’t fade as he starts to animatedly tell you how his day went. Apparently, his new History teacher is so boring he fell asleep three times during the class. All while he is talking, you silently listen, your eyes shining with adoration at his enthusiasm.
“Do you know today is what day?” he asks suddenly and you nod. You are aware of different cultures and you read books which doesn’t qualify you as illiterate but Han still asks to be sure.
“You should not be spending it with me Sungie,” you voice out softly and Han lets out a dry chuckle looking away. He doesn’t care, heck he will spend every single Valentine’s Day with you. The rule is to marry a royal blood, there is no rule that it is compulsory to marry.
He will happily stay single his whole life if it means he can spend every day and every night with you.
“I know what you are thinking, but someday you have to see your suitors,” you smile without emotion and just the mere thought of it brings tears to your eyes. How many days have you spent thinking about what will happen when Han finally finds his suitor?
They will marry, that is what will happen.
Han holds your hand and you look at him and he says, “We should run away.” A laugh of disbelief rings through your throat and his mischievous smile returns as soon as he sees you double over in pure and unfiltered laugh at his ridiculous idea.
“That’s how I like you, smiling, for me,” he tilts his head watching you in adoration and you giggle, leaning over to his body and he engulfs you in his arms. Your breath hitches in your throat as you look up and Han does something you have always dreaded and wished at the same time.
“Will you be my Valentine?” he asks and you nod. You know this is wrong, you know you shouldn’t fall for him but when the grin breaks out in his face and you hear his laugh for your affirmation you realise you have never loved anyone more.
And when his sweet lips encase yours you forget every obstacle that will be arising from this blossoming relationship. After all, you can just always run away.
◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›
brother’s best friend AU! grumpy x sunshine
now playing: shower by becky g
Lee Felix Yongbok. The name that is the reason of your doom.
You look at him, your mouth agape as he plays the game in front of him for the thousandth time and still loses. You don’t even know why he is here, your brother left more than half an hour ago with his date. You have been stuck watching him gaming because it is so amusing.
Felix has always been bad at games and it is no secret. It is not like your brother or his other friends were great but watching Felix play a game was more fun than watching a comedy series. Speaking of him, he throws the controller down, a string of colourful curses leaving his mouth.
You had enough.
Sure he looks hot while cursing, and sure his arms flexing as he presses the controls makes you want to do unnameable things to him, or let him do to you, whichever works, and sure his blonde hair makes you want to run your hand over them while you press light kisses over his face, but you finally had enough.
You sign in annoyance when he picks up the controller again and you snatch it out of his hand, yanking open the cable from the plug point and look at him. He smiles brightly when he sees your grimacing face and jokes, “Come on grumpy don’t glare at me like that.”
“First, Jisung left over an hour ago, so what the hell are you doing here?” you hold up your hand when he opens his mouth to speak and then continue, “Second, it is Valentine’s Day, don’t you have anything better to do than play LoL? And thirdly, Felix give up god you are bad at gaming.”
He pouts and you roll your eyes at him. Everyone in your brother’s friend circle how straightforward you are. Jisung has tried to set you up with Felix because according to him you are in desperate need of some “sunshine” in your life.
Fuck him and his sunshine.
He is the reason anyway you think about Felix so much and develop a crush on him. It is purely because of him you think about Felix and whenever he is around you smile, feel like a thousand fireworks going off when he smiles, and do pathetic things like singing love songs in the shower and dancing in front of the mirror.
All the more reason to hate Han Jisung.
“I am spending the day with you, aren’t I?” Felix winks and you gasp at his answer. He casually gets up and you look behind as he pours himself a glass of water and you close your eyes calming yourself. You cannot be more delusional about his casual flirting than you already are.
He walks off to Jisung’s room and you exhale, hating for even being born. The way his words have set your whole face on fire should be researched. Hell Felix can graze his hands casually and you will be firing up for no reason. You open your phone in frustration and scroll until you find a fluff fanfiction you feel like reading.
The reader kisses the person’s freckles.
Cringe.
You will definitely read it.
And do it to Felix, your mind screams and you want nothing more than to punch your mind. You keep reading trying to focus on the story and not think how it is so fitting with Felix.
“For someone always scowling you like reading stuff that makes normal people giggle,” a deep voice interrupts your reading and you jump as Felix slides beside you, still grinning. You hate yourself for how your eyes instantly dropped to his freckles. They looked like stars littered along his cheekbones and you would want nothing more than pressing kisses all over them.
Stop it.
You force yourself to look into his eyes and it doesn’t help a lot since they look like a whole galaxy of stars. How can someone’s eyes hold so much adoration and spark?
“Why are you looking at my freckles?” he chuckles but you can sense the tinge of insecurity behind it and the answer rolls off your lips before you can stop yourself, “If I was yours I would just spend the day kissing them.”
Your eyes widen and you want the ground to swallow you whole while Felix's loud laugh fills the room. You look at him and the way his nose scrunches and soft hair falls on his lashes as he continues laughing and asks, “Is that a line from the thing you were reading?”
“No, stop it,” you whine and your ears, heck, your whole body feels on fire as you look at Felix who is smiling and looking at you. “You say that but you look at me like this,” you pout and it takes all of his strength to not press his lips to yours right then and there.
“Like what?” he asks and you glare half-heartedly but he continues, “If you mean like I am head over heels for you, then yes, I do look at you like that.”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you don’t trust your voice too much but you blabber out, “Don’t ask me out on Valentine’s, that’s cliché as hell.”
“I can do all kinds of cliché things for you though,” Felix’s smiles brighten and you feel your heart beating at an unhealthy rate. Is this a heart attack? Will you die now? But his next sentence almost make you pass out if he was not holding you.
His breath mingles with yours as he asks with his lips inches away from yours, “Kissing on Valentine’s is a bit cliché too right?”
◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›
roommate AU! friends to lovers
now playing: i like me better by lauv
You put on your earphones and sit down on the couch reading the latest update on fanfiction from your favourite author. You place the cup of hot coffee on the table beside and get comfortable on the couch. You check the time on your phone and realise it is still some hours till Seungmin comes home from his practice.
With your lack of a date for Valentine’s, you have decided reading is the best way to solve all your wanted desires and cute scenarios while Seungmin, who claims he also had a lack of date (he didn’t, you literally saw him rejecting people) will be at vocal practice with his friend Jeongin.
You giggle when you read the fluffy scenes, kicking your feet and giggling to your heart’s content. You do not notice Seungmin returning at all and he understands that when you don’t reply when he calls your name. Seungmin runs a hand through his hair as he enters and his confused gaze falls over you sprawling on the couch.
He chuckles at how cute you are behaving and how cute you look in the oversized hoodie. He places his practice bag down, walks behind you and looks at your screen loving how oblivious of his presence. His mischievous side acts up and he starts reading loudly from the line he can see, “He places a soft kiss on the forehead, then traces them down the yes, and the nose, to the lips of-“
Your eyes open wide in shock and you jerk up and three incidents happen at the same time- you scream at Seungmin, one of your earpods falls off and the coffee in your hand spills over your clothes and hand.
You hiss at the burning sensations on your palm and thumb and Seungmin’s eyes widen as he pulls you by your hand. “Min what?” you ask confusedly as he sprints with you to the kitchen sink and throws your hand under the cold water. You look at him in shock, unable to process how quickly the situation escalated.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” he murmurs and his fingers run over your burnt area under the water. Well almost-burnt. The coffee wasn’t that hot and it would not even escalate to a first-degree burn.
“Min, hello to you too,” you joke and he grimaces upset at himself for causing such a situation. You open your mouth to say you are fine but he shushes you and makes you sit on the kitchen counter. He brings down the first-aid box and slightly blows on the region. The action releases a whole cage of butterflies in your stomach and his concerned face over a little harm makes your heart tighten.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean-“ his sentences is interrupted as you put your finger over his lips and say what you have been trying to say for the last fifteen minutes, “Minnie, I am fine.”
“Are you sure? I think we need to give some more ice,” he murmurs but before he can drift away, again, you pull him by his arms against your body. Seungmin stumbles over his feet and you giggle at his confused puppy behaviour before repeating your sentence, “Minnie, I swear I am fine.”
“Okay,” he complies and you laugh before saying, “You are too cute trying to take care of me, you know?” His nose scrunches and he puts his arms around your waist and murmurs, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
His tugs lightly on your waist and you tip forward getting close to him and your breath hitches at the proximity. His caramel eyes look so beautiful up close that you never want to look away. You can get lost in his eyes. Literally.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, the tension thickening as his body presses to yours and warmth spreads over your cheek but you whisper back, “Like what?”
“Like you want to never let me go,” he says and his breath fans your face as you make out the little details of his face. His hold tightens around your waist and you find yourself replying, “Maybe I don’t.”
His eyes roam over your features and land on your lips and that gives you the courage to lean in. Seungmin takes the cue and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. You hum kissing him back as you feel him smiling through the kiss. Your lips move together perfectly just like they fit like two missing puzzle pieces.
Seungmin’s hands caress your waist and you fist his shirt lightly and when you finally pull back a big grin breaks along his face making you laugh along. You sway lightly in his arms and a teasing smile reaches your lips as you ask the cringiest question existing to mankind.
“How about you kiss my wound better too?”
◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›
office AU! co-workers to lovers
now playing: silver tongues by louis tomlinson
What is better than working after-hours on Valentine’s Day? Absolutely fucking nothing. You sigh at your unfortunate state and continue typing on the computer finishing up the last slide for your colleague’s presentation who has clocked off as it was Valentine’s.
It was just two slides but you being the perfectionist you were couldn’t just leave it like that and thus completed it fully. After you are finished you huff and lean back on the chair. The creaking noise echoes in the empty office and you look around. Your desk was comparatively closer to the glass window of the building.
That is now giving you the perfect view of the streets decorated with pink and red fairy lights and the couples walking below. The street is buzzing with love and it is making you feel lonely. Another year, another day, you think. It will pass.
Swiping open your phone you quietly check through your notifications, most of them your work emails or bank account reports and sighing you clear them out. You swipe up a few notifications from your friends and some garbage notifications like the weather.
What the hell are you going to do with knowing the weather at eight in the night!
Your eyes fall over a particular notification- the update of a book chapter you have been waiting for. You eye the office once again. Alone. Swivelling in your chair you open your work computer and login through your account in Incognito. Nothing better than reading on a big screen.
You lean back satisfied and read it feeling giddy at the scenes the author has written. The kisses and the hugs are so satisfactorily written you feel literal butterflies reading them.
“Reading stories on a work computer, should I be reporting this?” you jerk up at the familiar voice and are instantly met with a pair of foxlike eyes. His mouth presses together trying to suppress a smile as you tried to hurriedly close the tab in the computer.
When you are done you take a long breath and look towards him and ask, “What are you doing here?” An amused smile reaches his lips but he answers nevertheless, “Came to take some files.” You nod your head but can’t look away from his face. The low light of the office casts a warm glow on his defined cheekbones and a light shade on his dyed caramel hair.
It is not like you and Jeongin were friends, but you weren’t acquaintances either. You two were somewhere in between and given his bright smile and even brighter personality nobody can hate him.
“Don’t you have a date?” Jeongin asks casually still holding onto your gaze and you chuckle shaking your head. Your love life is basically DOA. He sighs in relief unknowingly and before he can stop himself he continues, “Do you want to catch up with dinner?”
You whip your head towards him so fast that he stutters and blabbers, “I mean not today if you are busy, someday later or we can forget I said it.”
Did Yang Jeongin, the man who works in an office with his prim and proper attire, wears glasses, but dyes his hair for style and is the eye candy of more than half the office, ask you out on a date?
“Today’s fine,” you blurt out and you see the red blush spread from his nose to his cheeks. You are sure you are blushing too and you look away trying to arrange the already-made files. Jeongin stutters out an okay and keeps quiet, the awkward silence hanging as you quickly tidy up.
Ten minutes and an awkward elevator ride later you and Jeongin are walking down the decorated streets and attempting small talk which gradually are beginning to loosen you two up. You talk about your favourites and he talks about his own funny incidents, mostly with his older brother Minho.
You two enter a bar and order a drink each simply sitting down. By the time your drinks arrive the loud tempo has reduced to a slow song and you gasp in shock. This is your favourite song. You look at Jeongin who sips on his drink slightly, his glasses resting a little low on his nose and messy hair sprawling over his forehead.
One drink cannot make you tipsy but you blame it on the drink anyway when you ask, “Do you want to dance to this?” If Jeongin is surprised by the request, he doesn’t show it and nods, a small smile creasing up his cheeks.
He takes your hand and you twirl around the dance floor. Feeling a little bolder you circle your arms around his neck and sway to the beats of the song. All the time Jeongin never takes his eyes off yours and you feel yourself flustering under his intense gaze. His eyes trace your features and linger lightly on your lips before returning to your eyes.
The moment is so intense it makes you light-headed and his musky deodorant infiltrating your senses didn’t help at all. As the song finishes, Jeongin is unable to look away but he lets go reluctantly.
You miss his warm flush against your skin already but it returns as soon as he says, “If you don’t mind, do you want to catch a proper dinner tomorrow?”
ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's note ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤthis is kind of a personal favourite and even though I have no one to spend Valentine’s with I love being delusional lol. I enjoyed writing these too much and so I would really appreciate feedback and reblogs. my personal favourite is Felix even though he isn’t my bias but it was my first time trying grumpy x sunshine and I loved it so much. Happy Valentine’s everyone
ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ﹢ beta readingㅤ@kyrjnie @haneagerr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist
© arafilez on tumblr. please do not copy and repost my work as your own.
#ㅤ── ㅤara posts ㅤ𝜗𝜚#stray kids#bang chan#lee know#changbin#hyunjin#han skz#felix#seungmin#jeongin#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz#˖ ⋈ ˚ ‹ skz ›#⺌ r.equests ♡#𓂃 FIC : all for love 𒉽#divider by fairytopia
201 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
revistainforma
Revista In-Forma por Idea Segura México
pars-ayne
Pars_ayne
finearts1984
Artful Delights: A Tumblr Blog for the Curious and Creative
faeeebaeee
🌿 lottie dottie bo-bottie 🌿
cookiesandcantarella-art
Lea's Art Blog