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#no hold music everytime you call
iammorethananame · 9 months
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Me: *financially independent and uncomfortable accepting monetary help*
Also me: *fiercely anti-captalist and anti-rich people*
Still me: *staring wistfully at @theidiotwhowritesthings's sugar daddy!Joel Miller AU* I want one
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seventhcallisto · 19 days
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Channie. Chris. ( bang chan )
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MDNI ! 18+ CONTENT AHEAD !
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smut and fluff. bang chan x afab! reader (nn: sweet girl used once). Unprotected sex (wrap it pls ffs). Breeding. Slight edging. I love u's during it. Can be considered soft dom chan, but there really are no roles here, yall.
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Chan is such a soft lover. The type to wrap around your waist in the kitchen and kiss your shoulder, swaying you back and forth in a slow waltz. The type to kiss your neck as you let him message it. The type to go out of his way to get you something you want or like.
The type to hold an extra pair of shoes for you in case the heels you're wearing start to hurt. The type to love casual affection. The type to hold your hand and listen to you ramble with the most content and focused expression on his face. Chan was that type of lover.
Chan is also the type of lover to fold you in half as he gives you the dicking of a lifetime. With your legs over his broad shoulders and singing the sweet music only he knows how to drive out of you.
Watching your glistening cunt catch in the night light and shine with slick, creamy from the previous orgasms he has already pried out of you and yet- he's still to reach his own peak everytime he sinks back in to the hilt. Catching himself and slowing down to edge it on- he loves to talk you through it when he does it.
"Gonna cum soon sweetheart?" he'd murmur, husky and out of breath from the brutal pace he's already set for the two of you, slowing down til his thrusts are pushing you- digging deeper and deeper into your cunt until theres no space for him to go. "You're so good for me, baby. Gonna fill you real good, okay?" You're folded, yet he leans down to place his strong arms by your head. You're fucked out and it's all thanks to your boyfriend- your lover.
And he has the guts to smile, to bite his lip and kiss the corner of your mouth, leaning more of his weight onto the bed so he's practically on you- one with you. "Talk to me pretty," he'd ask again, stopping abruptly, then slowing to a grind- torture of pleasure on his handsome face, his cockhead hitting a part of you that has only ever been reached by him.
"I-I'm channie-" you hiccup as quietly as you can manage, jolting in his grasp due to the way everytime he does it, your clit throbs- sore from so many orgasms before, and you whimper once again when he slows down even more, telling you to respond in his own way. "Channie, need you to cum in me please- please please" you'd bargain- chans got a thing for breeding.
"Yeah? Say please one more time f'me-" His tired voice asks, his face hovering over yours. He watches your expressions - your feelings and the satisfaction of his sped up pounding wash over you. "My sweet girl, fuck-" he hisses when you clench again and again- signaling you're going to cum for the 4th time soon.
"Please- oh fuck- chan- chris," you whimper his name once again, something different this time - his name, which you know gets to him. That makes him weak in the knees, soft and mushy.
The way chan has you is everything to him - you're perfect, made just for him and him for you. He can't wait to marry you one day, to put a giant ring on your finger and settle down. You're everything to him- always have been- always will be.
And with another hard slam of his hips, you're scrunching up around him, calling his name with a shriveled cry and digging your nails into his back, not like he minds. Legs squeezing over his shoulder until he drops them down to place himself back between your parted and soaked thighs, hiking them up and over his arms to keep you spread for his wide form.
"Almost there baby, where d'you want it?" He groans, and it reverbs off his chest into yours, his head falling into the junction of your neck to place a sloppy kiss over the countless red blots of hickeys lining up over you. You shake with every push, every pull of his hips, and how hard he drills his cock into you, pumping you with his entire length and dragging out your already exhausting orgasm.
"In-" you stutter, whimpering once more when his dark happy trails skims over your clit from another thrust. "In me, inside chan, please chris?" And oh- it's everything to have you beg for him like this. His cock twitches- his groan deeper this time as he nears his peak.
The harder he bucks inside you, the farther you slip into his lap, his knees placed under you, your body halfway over his strong thighs, he holds you tight there with a grip to your waist, blow after blow, grunt after moan. His eyebrows scrunching, and his eyes locking with yours as he pulls back to lean his head on your forehead.
"I- fuck baby i love you so much," he strains as finally, his eyes drift shut and his face scrunches with pure unaltered bliss, his mouth falling slack. His cum floods you, warm and sticky and so much it has you gasping- his hips stuttering.
He falls over you with a heavy- breathless sigh, his sticky naked skin sticking to yours. You're finally able to catch your breath as well, thighs trembling from around his waist and then unfolding to straighten out cause they're sore, obviously. Chan breathes against you, steadying his breath and listening to yours do the same, your heart pounds against his chest and everything just feels to right to move.
He places a sweet kiss against your jaw, tugging himself to lean on his arm. His face is soft- lax and red. Yours is probably dazed, and fucked to oblivion. But chan smiles anyways, kissing you as softly as he's done hundreds of times before.
"You okay?" He questions with a hum, lips stretching out and his eyes curling to showcase how he's genuinely asking. You blink up at him. "I love you too, chris," you murmur sweetly. Chan falters, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat fondly before you pull him down into your embrace.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes, yeah?" He laughs into your shoulder. You hum happily, content to be in his strong arms and tough figure. Soft and warm and giving. Ready to show you in every way how much he adores and loves you. Just you.
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Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.
everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.
word count - 3k
author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.
part one. part three. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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His eyes are glued to you.
They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.
He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.
You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.
"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"
You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Stevie."
You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.
"You okay?" you giggle.
"I'm good. You good?"
"I'm good."
You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.
"You're a little tipsy, huh?"
"Just a little."
"You wanna go home?"
You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.
"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."
Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.
"Of course. Let's go, hm?"
"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."
You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.
"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.
"What?"
"Nothin'."
Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.
"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."
"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."
"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."
"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."
"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"
"Don't call her that."
"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."
"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."
Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.
Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.
"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."
You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.
"Better?"
"Better."
You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."
You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.
He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.
"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."
"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."
You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.
You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.
"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."
You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.
He does. He doesn't mention it.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.
"What did she say?"
You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.
"Kept asking if you were single."
"And what did you say?"
"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."
Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.
"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"
"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."
He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.
"She didn't talk to me."
"Didn't think she would."
He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.
"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."
You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."
You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.
"And you said..."
"That he was in the wind, thankfully."
"Dodged a bullet with that one."
You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.
"Mikey wants to ask you out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."
"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."
"I look at you."
Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.
"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."
After a moment, you add,
"My Steve."
You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.
"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."
You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.
"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."
You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.
"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?
Thankfully, you do.
"I know what you mean. I always do."
He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.
"Okay," he breathes.
"Okay," you breathe.
"I love you," he breathes.
"I love you," you breathe.
"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.
"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.
You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.
"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.
Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.
"Me neither."
You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.
"I feel bad," you confess.
"Why, honey?"
"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."
Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.
"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."
"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.
Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.
He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.
"You're wearing your lipbalm."
"You've been chewing your gum."
He chuckles, kissing you again softly.
"You wanna go home?"
"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."
He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.
"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."
The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.
He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.
It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.
"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.
You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.
This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.
"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."
You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.
"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"
"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."
Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.
"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."
"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."
You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.
"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.
"Never a good sign."
"Shut up."
You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.
"Will you let me return the favour?"
It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.
"Babe, you don't have to-"
"-I want to. So badly."
Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.
"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."
The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.
"Honey... fuck."
Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Please. Jesus."
He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.
"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."
"Me and you."
"Always."
He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.
"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?
You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.
You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.
"This still okay?"
"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.
You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.
Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.
You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.
You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.
"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"
Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.
"Okay."
You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.
Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.
Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.
He finds his voice, suddenly.
"Oh fuck, baby."
"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."
"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."
"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."
He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.
"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."
You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.
The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.
He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.
"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.
You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.
"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.
"You love it."
You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
After a second, you giggle.
"What's funny?"
"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."
Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.
"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."
You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.
"We should talk about this," you whisper.
"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."
Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.
The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.
The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.
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@allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @enigmaticloki
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luveline · 5 months
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hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it
love u
love u too♡
cw death related anxiety
“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 
Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 
He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 
“Where did James say he was going?” 
“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 
“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 
“You're worrying again.” 
They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 
You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 
James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”
James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”
Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”
“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 
Remus holds out the phone to you. 
“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 
“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 
“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 
“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”
“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 
“I do this all the time, though.”
Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 
“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”
“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 
“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 
You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 
“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”
James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 
“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.
“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 
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joonsytip · 2 months
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So It Goes || Wonwoo
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Synopsis: Your acceptance of his rejection and attempt on moving on has been hurting Wonwoo to the bones, head and most significantly, his heart.
Word Count: 1.3k
Sequel to Say Don't Go and set in the Withering for You universe (can be read as a standalone drabble series).
Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, mention of fucking once, making out
Next Part : All Too Well
[ SVT Masterlist ][ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
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"Take me with you, please."
Wonwoo double takes at you, finding it hard to believe that such words could come out of your mouth and not be directed at him.
You are grinning ear to ear, something you haven't done in a while.
"Are you sure because all I do is work.", Jihoon tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and says, "You'd eventually get bored of me."
"I can fill in for all the interesting things", you tell him coyly.
Seungcheol and his wife are expecting their first baby so the group decided to throw a party to the soon to be parents. The ambience is cozy, the lights are dim. Soothing music is filling in the space and after long and fun conversations all together, now you all are scattered in groups chatting the night away.
Jihoon is a new addition to the group, the prodigal musician who was initially bagged by Seungcheol's wife to manage the new branch of the academy founded by her and Seungkwan but ended up playing an important part in the reunion of Seungcheol and his wife and hence was adopted by the group instantly. Especially you, you've grown fond of Jihoon. Seems the same for him as well.
It's a pleasing atmosphere, everything is eye pleasing but also, such an eyesore to Wonwoo. Because though no one has asked him to be standing so close to you, he at his own will, is leaning against a wall adjacent to where you're seated across Jihoon who has now his hand placed atop yours. Wonwoo's teeth are sinking onto an empty cup, eyes sharp and hands fisted with all his attention spanned on you.
"You're making it so obvious."
Wonwoo turns his head to Seungcheol's whispering, the later grabs his arm and takes him away to a more secluded area. Seungcheol takes a quick jog to his wife asking her to call him if she needs anything, kisses her forehead softly and walks back to where his friend is standing.
"So what are you gonna about it?", Seungcheol asks.
Wonwoo doesn't meet his eyes, "About what?"
Seungcheol sighs, he understands where his friend is coming from and also feels guilty about his family painting this horrendous picture of the rich and powerful that has scared the person infront of him so much that he believes almost everyone is sick and twisted.
"Everyone in this room knows that you like Y/N.", Seungcheol says sadly patting his shoulder, "And not every family is sick like mine.", he smiles sweeping a quick glance at his wife, "But look we're back together, after everything, we're in love, we're gonna have a family soon. It's the best of anything I could have ever asked for."
To be honest, when Seungcheol got back together with his wife, it would given Wonwoo a hope, he could see the silver linings but he is still afraid.
"I have already rejected her and...", Wonwoo's gaze falls on you, a sad smile ghosting on his lips, "She looks happier with him, she's moving on."
You haven't looked at him once and he's unable to take his eyes off you tonight.
"You're mistaken.", Seungcheol says and hands him a filled cup, "You don't need to hold back everytime. Try living for yourself from now on."
It's not easy he thinks, not when his brother is lying unconscious, getting treated in the hospital, not when you belong to the family of chaebols, several heirs lining up to get married to you while he's just a secretary, who's still trying to meet ends.
Wonwoo doesn't hold back, he finds a seat at one of the tables and resorts to drinking which he has never done before as an obligation to himself to be the one to drive all others to safety, though never been asked.
"He's worse than her.", Mingyu tells Seungkwan.
"Shouldn't we stop him?", Chan asks, "He's drowning in his sorrows."
"Damn, Jihoon turned out to be such a great actor, even I'd have believed that there's something going on between Y/N and him, if I hadn't known.", Seungkwan mutters eyes going back and forth between the three of you, "It's funny knowing Jihoon has a motive to make Wonwoo jealous but sad knowing Y/N wants him to think she's moving on just not to be a burden to him anymore."
It's the dawn hours when Seungcheol who is as sober as day just so he could attend his wife anytime is begging everyone to dismiss the party insisting his wife needs to maintain her sleep schedule and rest well but she won't leave until everyone does.
"Okay, so my driver's coming , anyone wants to come with me?", Chan asks.
Seungkwan and Mingyu immediately tags along.
"Jihoon, Y/N what about you both?", Seungcheol asks.
"Take Jihoon with you both.", you say sighing, "I am not drunk, haven't had drinks."
"Okay, we are gonna take Wonwoo also--"
You cut off Seungcheol, "I'll take Wonwoo with me, don't worry."
No one objects, one by one they leave. You go to Wonwoo who hasn't sobered up a bit despite of the efforts of Mingyu from before.
"Come on, let's go.", you tell him, helping him to get up.
Drunk Wonwoo is chatty, his honeydew voice is eating off your ears as you struggle to put his big frame inside the car.
He's talking about how he keeps loosing the games nowadays because he lacks concentration. He talks about how happy he was when the doctors said that his brother can have a full recovery. He's spilling out random facts, cracking lame jokes and whatnot.
He's so cute, you think. You wanna record this version of him, wanna stop driving and give your full attention to him, to look at him. Because you know once he sobers up he's not gonna remember any of this, going back to his stoic self.
Seungcheol has texted you the passcode of his house and somehow you've ended on sheets under Wonwoo.
"Be here, with me", he mumbles, his soft breaths grazing your neck.
"Wonwoo, move", you huff trying to get him off you but fail one more time as his arms lock you in place.
He lifts his head to meet your gaze, removes the hair off your face and says, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So good at everything you do, have so many people admiring you.", he smiles through the slurry words, "You could have anyone, anyone would be willing to be with you but out of all people you choose me."
You go stiff when he rests his forehead against you. And your whole body gives up when he confesses, "I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that it hurts. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
After some moments of staring, your hands attempt to push him again, "You're just drunk, you don't mean anything you're saying. Please--"
The words remain stuck in your throat as Wonwoo kisses you. His lips move softly against yours, the aftertaste of alcohol in his mouth intoxication you as well, as you find yourself giving in, kissing him back.
He takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, deepening the kiss. You moan, gasping for breath, letting his tongue lick your whole mouth. Every ounce of rational thoughts leaves your body, just like the clothes those stay discarded on his bedroom floor.
Wonwoo is fast asleep beside you, hugging your naked body after fucking you hard because you surely wouldn't call it making love.
You slowly remove his hand and get up. After putting back your clothes on, you keep the medicine and water on the sidetable.
"You probably didn't mean for any of this to happen between us.", you whisper, trying to hold back the tears, "You won't even remember all of this."
You peck the side of his head and take your leave.
When Wonwoo wakes up later, he groans because of the killer headache but also sobers up straight, panicking when he finds no traces of you in the house.
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wifeyoozi · 8 days
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ot13 seventeen : giving them a blowjob
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seungcheol : holds your hair back, loves when you look up at him while stretching your mouth around his dick
jeonghan : lowkey corruption kink. Will teach you how he likes it exactly. Commanding and teasing.
joshua : he's a gentleman until it comes to your mouth on his dick. Grunts and curses a lot. May pull your hair.
junhui : depending on how you give it, he'll either whimper and whine if you're sucking too hard or push your hair behind your ear and cup your cheek and praise you if you go slow and steady for him.
hoshi : expects you to give him a head whenever he's only minutely hard, especially if it's because of you. Don't even start counting how many times you have sucked his dick in the dance practice rooms and backstages.
wonwoo : soft/hard dom, depending on his mood. Will either let you suck his dick at your own pace of will hold your head and fuck his dick deep in your mouth.
jihoon : a lazy blowjob is just another tuesday in his studio when he needs to relieve some stress and you are chilling on his studio. Will have you keep his dick warm in your mouth for hours till he is done with his music (or till your jaw aches, whichever comes first)
Minghao : rarely has you suck his dick because in his dictionary sex is only for your pleasure and refuses to let you take his dick in your mouth unless you actually beg plead for it
Mingyu : literally crazy over getting blowjobs. He has that stupid eyes closed mouth open smile on his face everytime you go down on him. Loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue and mouth all around his cock
Seokmin : you know what's the only thing better than having your girlfriend sucking off your dick? Eating her out while she is sucking off your dick. Which is why 69 is his fav foreplay
Seungkwan : most vocal. Keeps praising you and whining and moaning and groaning and cursing all together. Maybe squeezes your face between his thighs
Vernon : he'll take a blowjob every where out of bed. On couch while watching a movie? Might as well take his dick in your mouth. In shower asking him to wash your hair? What better position than you on your knees, with his dick down your throat as he massages your scalp.
Chan : He's so much turned on after coming down your throat. Also a simp so he'll call you all the beautiful names. He especially loves when you have a face full of make up and proceed to give him a sloppy blowjob just like that, making a message of his dick and your face.
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writingmeraki · 2 months
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men on a mission.
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a kim mingyu drabble !
pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )
genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.
warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.
author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!
sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )
word count : 0.9k
small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!
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Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.
“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?” 
You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.
Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.
His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.
“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.” 
You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.
He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that. 
“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,
“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache. 
“ ‘s fine~”
“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.” 
Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time. 
Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.
“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were. 
His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”
You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams. 
“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before. 
“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”
You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.
“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.” 
“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.
The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business. 
Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get. 
“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~” 
You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.
Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?
Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency. 
“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment. 
You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars. 
“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him. 
You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,
“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”
Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him. 
He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you. 
Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything. 
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all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌
links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !
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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months
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valentines day with lucifer pleaseee
YAASSS IM SUCH A LUCIFER SIMP *bangs on table* I love him so much, it’s a problem. Like look at him… 🥹 thanks for the request and ENJOY!
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(I don’t own this picture)
Lucifer x reader- Valentine’s Day 🤍
Whether you two have been together for 3 weeks or 3 centuries, he will ask you to be his valentine every. single. year.
Baby boy is such a hopeless romantic I stg
Goes all out too! Would never just get you flowers and chocolates. From the king of hell?! No way. Only the absolute best for his love.
In this case, this is your very first Valentine’s Day together!!! D’AAAWWWWW
You come home/back to the hotel the day before valentines and there’s red and pink balloons every where, rose petals all over the ground, the lights are dim and soft. Very much a romantic movie scene type thing.
“(Y/N)~” Lucifer calls out to you sweetly, softly as he watches you look around at all the new decor.
When he finally has your attention, he holds his gloved hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.
You can’t help but smile as you run to hug him. He laughs softly against you before he pops the question, his arms gently squeezing you against him.
“(Y/N)? Will you be my valentine, sweetheart?” And all you can do is laugh and hold him even closer.
“Oh, Luci~ Of course I will!”
OBVIOUSLY this dork makes you a cool ass duck as a gift. It’s one that really relates to you, has something to do with your looks or personality or an inside joke between the two of you. It’s special just for you 🥹
Def wants to take you on a nice date somewhere. Maybe a fancy restaurant, maybe to a bar, maybe a coffee shop for some caffeine and sweets.
Def asks you what you want to do and leaves the choice to you. He’s fine with whatever as long as he can hold your hand and give you kisses every 2 seconds so often.
DEFINITELY picks you up in a fancy ass car with a chauffeur and champagne and everything!
Whatever you decide to do, he’s sooooo distracted the whole time. There’s so much on his mind rn and it’s all different thoughts about you, most of them innocent 😈
I mean how is he supposed to keep his thoughts 100% clean and innocent when you dressed so nicely for your valentines date and you keep laughing extra loud at his jokes and blushing bright red at every compliment he shoots your way.
Of course he dresses to the nines as well. He looks great in white, don’t get me wrong. But him in a deep red suit with pink accents for valentines?!,!!??!,? PLZ 😍
He also loves the way people stare when you two go out together. Sure, it’s not totally conventional for the king of hell, Lucifer himself, to be so deeply in love with someone of your status but that’s what really bonds you two. It’s not some arrangement or a deal made for your soul or anything besides true love and attraction for each other.
He loves and trusts you so much, you’re so different from everyone else who fights for his attention.
And you’re just thanking your lucky stars, wondering how the hell you pulled him. He’s so perfect omfgggg
He is sure to ask you if everything is to your liking, how you’re feeling, what you want to do next. He’s very observant and considerate.
It’s hard to even eat or drink or whatever you’re trying to focus on bc he keeps staring at you and holding your hand and winking at you Everytime you guys make eye contact.
Don’t get me wrong! He’s lovey dovey and super sweet all the time but on this holiday of romance and love, he’s going 1000 times harder!
He would totally take you back to his house to finish off your romantic evening.
Probably puts on some music and takes off his coat to get more comfy.
Offers you a drink and goes to make it himself, adding some cute little garnish to it just to be fancy for you.
Sits on the couch in the living room with you and keeps his hands on you in some way. Touching your thigh, holding your hand, rubbing your arm or your back.
Proceeds to talk your ear off about everything and anything as his hands roam your body subconsciously.
Luci definitely talks a lot, rambles on and on to you all the time. Hope you’re a good listener ;) he doesnt have many other loved ones to talk to you so you get to hear it all
He talks so much he probably often tells you the same story over and over again. You tell him “Yes, Luci. You told me this already.” with a sweet smile at least once a day.
Tries to kiss you but accidentally bumps his head into yours instead.
Now you’re both laughing so loud, blushing so bright red and can’t maintain eye contact for more than a second or two.
He probably cracks a joke to ease the tension in the room too. And even worse, it’s some lame dad joke or a pun lmaoooo
Leans in again, much slower this time. His eyes flutter shut and he purses his lips as he approaches.
His kiss is scorching hot but so so soft.
Maybe you guys have kissed before, maybe not. But this kiss hits different. Maybe it’s the Valentine’s Day sweetness in the air, maybe it’s because he’s so goofy and silly and comfortable with you all the time, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had tonight, maybe all three?
But this kiss…is the most passionate you’ve ever shared with him.
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Text
Reign down on me - Part 3
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Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment
-🐺-
When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.
You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time. 
“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!” 
The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you. 
Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too. 
“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”
You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile. 
“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness. 
“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”
Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.
“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname. 
“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.
Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance. 
“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.
“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”
“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.
“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”
“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”
Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’. 
“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”
“Pup?” Gaz repeated.
He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise. 
You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly. 
“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin. 
“Do you want us to call you that now?” 
Fuck off.
Get Fucked.
Why don’t I call you that? 
Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.  
“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.
You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him. 
“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again. 
“What?”
“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”
You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing. 
“Never said he was,” you answered defensively. 
“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”
You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be. 
“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”
Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.
“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently. 
You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.
“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”
“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly. 
“You sure?” 
You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions. 
How could you willingly let go of that? 
-🐺-
Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.
They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.
It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.
They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.
But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment. 
“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them. 
They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within. 
Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty? 
“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s. 
You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air. 
“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head. 
“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”
“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”
“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”
You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.
“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea. 
You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered. 
“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”
You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to. 
“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you. 
And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.
“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”
“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”
Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago. 
Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.
“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could. 
You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down. 
“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”
“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”
You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong. 
“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”
Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.
“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”
Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.
Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon. 
From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn. 
Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems. 
Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.
You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage. 
They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses. 
You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons. 
“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”
-🐺-
“Pup?”
You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!
“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”
He’d asked you something…
“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.
You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes. 
Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him. 
“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle. 
“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”
“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight. 
“That’s my good pup.”
He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it. 
The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically. 
It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting. 
You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights. 
Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt. 
However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments. 
“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him. 
If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were  listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.
Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.  
“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”
“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go. 
“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.” 
With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.  
From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce. 
“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”
“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.
He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise. 
“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”
Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor. 
Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out. 
You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…
You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street. 
You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead. 
Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.
Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot. 
“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear. 
Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.
When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders 
“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”
You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field. 
Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill. 
In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.
Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face. 
That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee. 
By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else. 
“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”
“Sir, I-“
Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves. 
“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!”  he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats. 
You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.
“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.” 
You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes. 
“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?” 
Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front. 
“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”
“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed. 
“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.” 
You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching. 
Speaking of- 
“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms. 
With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.
After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat. 
You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind. 
Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets. 
Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead. 
“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”
“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.
“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”
“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”
That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements. 
“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”
There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough. 
You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.
Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could. 
“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”
You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you. 
“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.
Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.
In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes. 
“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost. 
“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?” 
You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives. 
“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.” 
You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes. 
Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times. 
The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance. 
Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.
It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.
Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths. 
“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”
You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building. 
“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.
A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe. 
You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before. 
“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it. 
“Here, take this.”
Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.
“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown. 
“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”
You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered. 
“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you. 
Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now… 
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vickyzangels · 11 months
Note
You do NSFW too right? If so could you do Tom going down on reader?
% “너와 천천히 오래 걷고 싶어 until the end of time.”
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# synopsis ; redemption era?? resurrection era? idk🧍🏻‍♀️
# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader
# word count ; 614
# warnings ; nsfw (mdni), recreational drug use, he’s pussywhipped, tom is a, what does ice spice call them? a munch.
a/n ; YALL….. i completely scrapped the fic i was working on like i hate to admit it but i couldn’t do it i scrapped it 😭 but at least i found out something important from it, that i am entirely incapable of having any plot, like i can do a blurb at BEST, but god forbid i put even a minor storyline in. i might go back to it one day when i’m that deep and far into the trenches but the a/n for that fic literally looks like this so…;
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he can tie cherry stems with his tongue alone. no hands. gn.
kind of relates but kind of doesn’t anyway one of his favorite things to do while eating you out is fingering you (MY GODDDDD)
his calloused hands from guitar-playing are brushing up EVERY corner inside you, curling and making “come-hither” motions to reach that spot that has you squeezing your legs around his hands and yet he does NOT care, continuing up from your cunt to leave the most sweetest and innocent kisses and marks on your neck like he wasn’t hovering over you and abusing your g-spot till you squirted into his hand
on that topic, he LOVES squirters like he likes creamers too (he doesn’t discriminate), but he’s so into it like, god forbid he gets you to squirt (in which he always does) because he’ll happily come up soaked in your juices like a puppy
i’ve never mentioned this anywhere else but he’s 50/50 in bed with his attitude (that sounds so vague i’m sorry) and i mean that he is generally serious like he’ll fuck your brains out while sternly whispering in your ears about how much of a dirty slut you are HOWEVER, on the flip side of things he acts like he’s sooo damn funny 😐 like he’ll jokingly nip at you while going down on you (obviously lightly he doesn’t want to hurt you) and laugh when you look at him like 😧
he gets so weak if you sit on his face. his hands are wandering everywhere, spots on your hips where there are guaranteed to be bruises by tomorrow by how hard he’s holding you down onto him and his other hand going up to rub and hold your body while he groans into you because everytime his voice vibrates on you it makes you shiver🧎🏻‍♀️listen, tom has fuckboy experience he can keep going for ROUNDS before he decides to cum once but when you’re on top of him squeezing your thigh around his head, HE’S A GONER.
whether or not you smoke, you hypothetically do for this; tom’s such a slut for the way you taste the main reason why you ever get overstimulated when he eats you out is because you taste so good to him, so when you two smoked a blend that had flowers in it for calming effect, it doubled for an aphrodisiac and you had to pry him from your pussy.
about an hour ago, you and tom smoked blunts with a new blend you found from your dealer that only piqued your interest because she explained to you it also worked as an aphrodisiac. truth be told, that was the only thing you actually registered come out of her mouth cause you zoned out when she started talking, but knowing you and tom fucked like bunnies, you told her to take all your money and you were on your way. so now here you were, on your back with your legs over tom’s shoulders god near choking him to death (not that he was complaining), gasping moans into the air while your hand made its way to tom’s head, making weak efforts to push him away. “to- mm..! i can’t take it!” starting to writhe your hips, accidentally bucking further into tom’s mouth. he was pushing you and he knew it, pushing you towards your 4th orgasm and counting and he had no intention of stopping any time soon, especially not when whatever in that blunt was making you suddenly taste so much sweeter. not when whatever was in that blunt was making the music sensually slow down, or making your moans so honey smooth.
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a/n ; last blurb’s dialogue was definitely… 😟 but all i know is that i’m leaving the longer fics to people like @arquiiva and omg i think i’m back? and i also watched astv so i’m adding that to the topic list in guidelines but yeah i’ll try not to leave out of no where again
© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.
taglist ; @cup1d-lix @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @everseve
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channoticedmeuwu · 11 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔 — 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐖𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃?
p — CHOI BEOMGYU × FEM!READER | g — suggestive, fluff, frenemy!beomgyu | w — mentions of slight claustrophobia, a bad kisser, kissing scene, gyu's kinda annoying pull up bro
a/n — because of 230610 beomgyu need I say more. + this kind of sucks idk why but I mean I need the idea out of my drafts sorry y'all
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“beomgyu, please.”
your fingers were gripping beomgyu's jacket— your lips burned from the previous make out session you absolutely regretted, lipstick smeared and desperation fluttering with your pretty eyelashes as you pleaded, blinking at beomgyu. “just a few seconds, I can't let him see me.”
you'd just ‘ran away’ from a guy beomgyu had set you up with— or at least tried to— after realizing he was a terrible kisser with a lot of opinions that would be better off inside his mind. and you were fed up with the constant ‘girls aren't good kissers without experience’ opinion he had, right after calling you a good kisser. he had completely messed up your make up, abruptly landing a kiss on your lips right in the middle of the dance floor. hot bodies against each other and blaring music, causing you an overload of senses.
your eyes stared at beomgyu, who was tall enough, especially with the platform boots he wore tonight. so even with you holding him down, gripping him for dear life wasn't enough to make the two of you see eye to eye. he ran his thumb over your eyebrow with a smile, his fingers adorned in silver rings felt cold against your skin— your eyes absorbing his appearance, your heart beating with anxiety.
“aren't you cute,” he chuckled, making you let out a panicked giggle, “you want me that bad?”
“don't get ahead of yourself,” you stood to your toes, your action making beomgyu lace his finger around your waist in support, “i don't want you, I need you.”
now, that sounded completely different in your head. you needed him to save your ass, you didn't need him in that way. not charming old beomgyu, who kicked the back of your knees when you'd be walking to class. not beomgyu, who'd scrunch up his face everytime you'd walk past and ask if you've taken a shower, especially when your hair were obviously wet. not beomgyu, who'd smack your head from behind and point to the closest person near the two of you when you'd ask, “what the fuck, gyu!?”
so what was it about this beomgyu, the beomgyu who was humming at you and tracing your skin with his initial, the beomgyu whose eyelashes you insisted to do before the party because you realized that he had amazing lashes. the beomgyu who was lazily blinking at you, a blush creeping on his cheeks, adam's apple trembling, “need?”
“you heard me,” but you decided this beomgyu was different, this wasn't the same beomgyu at all. no, his eyes looked different in the flashing lights, his fingers moved up and down your back like he was trying to earn a reaction out of you, but it wasn't working at all, especially when you tightened your grip around his collar in desperation.
and it probably meant something that your first instinct was to look for beomgyu when that horrible kiss happened, and you suddenly realized that staring at his face. beomgyu scrunched his nose at you.
“please.” you said as you turned your head, checking to see if anyone came around the corner looking for you.
“and what's in it for me?”
you were starting to get impatient. you started tapping the floor with your foot, shaking him slightly with a whine, nervously pink in the cheeks. “alright, alright,” he pulled you against the wall right beside the two of you as he heard someone say your name right behind the corner, “but you owe me.”
“anything,” you giggled as he put his arms next to your face against the wall, his body hiding you. he had his eyes closed, forehead against yours, and you could feel your heartbeat chatter your teeth as the echoing of your name got closer.
but somehow, you were still not satisfied.
anyone could still peak over beomgyu's shoulder and see you, your bold make up and your recognizable face. “beom,” you whispered, your breath falling on his lips, the footsteps growing closer, “what if—”
but then he cut you off, lips on your own, a hand guiding your thigh around his hips; he had you pinned. the scent of smoke made its way up your nose as he mumbled, eyes slowly opening, causing his eyelashes to flutter against your cheeks. “hand. hair.”
immediately, you snaked your hands up his hair, unusually soft and—well, they smelled good. the image you had of beomgyu as the annoying asshole who picked on you in the halls was merging into something else, like ripples of water settling down to show a proper picture. beomgyu was holding you in a way you've never been held, his voice humming and his lips in a smile against yours.
and was it that bad to admit that he was getting you more nervous than being found by the guy you were trying to avoid? he'd mutter a little ‘ah!’ that would travel like current throughout your body, especially when you'd turn your head to check if anyone would find you like this; pinned against the wall, eyelids shut tight, his hands underneath your blouse and on your skin. and the idea of that made your face turn redder than the whimpers beomgyu was letting out to tease the fuck out of you.
“you're such a shit kisser,” he mumbled with a giggle that definitely sounded like he felt the opposite, when someone turned around the corner, calling beomgyu's name.
“gyu—oh, fuck.”
beomgyu placed a hand on the back of your neck as he turned, gently nudging your face into his shoulder. “yeah? dude, I'm busy?”
“yeah. shit— I mean, yeah.” then with a stutter at beomgyu's annoyed expression, he continued, “have you seen y/n anywhere?”
“the fuck, dude?”
“nevermind.”
and as the body turned around the corner, beomgyu turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “you can look up now.”
and he saw your face— lips puffy, sweat beading underneath your eyes, panting from the adrenaline, hair disheveled from the friction against the wall— you were a mess. and you were laughing like a maniac.
“dude, you're good,” you just chuckled as beomgyu cocked his head to the side, tongue in cheek. “like me that much?”
“beomgyu, no!”
“mhm, then let go of me.”
and that's when you realized you still had his hair in your hands, your forehead against his, and your legs around him. you muttered a defeated fuck, standing to your feet and getting ready to walk away, cheeks burning.
“hey,” he asked, pouting as he bent lower to look at you, “no thank you kiss for me?”
“is that what I owe you?”
he thought for a second as he clicked his tongue, back leaning against the wall as he thrust his hands into his pockets. “mhm,” he finally nodded, tapping his lips which were glittering from your lipgloss.
“right here.”
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txt — masterlist
main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world @1921choi
I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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tenswrld · 5 months
Text
true romance
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popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff
summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.
word count: 4.1k
listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress
a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy
•°. *࿐
tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.
you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.
in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"
haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."
"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"
he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"
"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.
"i didn't say that."
"you might as well have," you spit back at him.
"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.
frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.
"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.
•°. *࿐
'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame
people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.
you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.
yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.
"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"
"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"
he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."
you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."
"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."
maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.
"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.
but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.
"i don't know."
•°. *࿐
tell me, why i don't play about you
every song is about you
haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.
things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.
he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.
you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.
"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.
"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?
"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."
you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?
"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."
his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.
"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.
"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.
when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.
"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."
this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.
but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.
"it's always been you, y/n."
•°. *࿐
and everybody’s shouting out your name
“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.
he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”
you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.
“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”
“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”
you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.
you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”
haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”
ੈ♡˳
it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.
normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?
it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.
haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.
“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.
“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”
jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.
"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.
"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.
"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.
haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.
"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.
the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."
"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"
the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.
"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.
"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"
haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.
"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.
"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"
haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.
"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."
“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”
doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“
"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."
confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.
haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.
"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.
"i want to go home."
•°. *࿐
i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?
haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.
its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.
the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.
then, his eyes finally spot you.
you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.
time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.
there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.
"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."
from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.
"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."
your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.
"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."
the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.
"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.
"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.
"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.
haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.
"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.
"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."
the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.
"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."
the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.
"i love you, too."
•°. *࿐
say what you want, this is true romance
“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”
your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.
you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.
"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.
"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"
haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."
"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.
haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."
he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.
he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.
"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.
haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"
you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.
"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.
you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.
"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.
your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."
"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."
you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."
"good, because i just posted it."
you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.
"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.
"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."
ੈ♡˳
haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.
but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.
this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.
"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.
haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.
"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"
its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.
he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.
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brilium · 7 months
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❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3
Masterlist
➽──────────❥
❥ DAY 6. Cheating! with Gojo Satoru
Summary. Your boyfriend, hated by all your friends, turns you down again on a dinner that you planned for weeks and Satoru shows up at a bar to wash away all your worries like he always does.
Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of Y/N, all characters are adults, smut, fingering, masturbation (f. recieving), vaginal sex, cheating, Satoru calls her slut one time but it's more praising, mirror sex.
Word count. 3,203
MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!
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“Sorry, babe. I’ll make sure to make it up for you next time, okay?”
You sigh, throwing your phone inside your bag and standing up to leave the fancy restaurant with the sound of your heels echoing through the sound of the soft jazz music.
On the way back to your car, the only thought in your mind is all the times when your friends have told you that your boyfriend is an idiot that only stays with you for comfort. You always try to excuse him, but why? 
Do you even still love him?
Thinking about it is more hurtful than being turned down by him on the dinner that you planned for your anniversary, while you try to hold the tears hiding your face on the steering wheel, you make a decision.
You bought this pretty dress only for this night, to surprise him with a new dress. You looked for tutorials to get a pretty makeup on that’d make you look stunning. And you are, so it would be such a lame to waste this night crying over an idiot who can’t keep his word with you.
That’s what you thought in your car, getting excited for a wild night as you drive to the nearest night club and you get inside to get drunk and make out with a stranger. But, your moral betrays you once you get your drink and realize that your adrenaline got you thinking about cheating.
Does he really deserve it?
I mean, he's not that bad as a boyfriend. He at least remembered about sending me a message to say that he couldn’t come to our date, right?
Opposite to what was supposed to happen, the rush of thoughts running in your head makes you feel a little guilty after taking some more drinks. You put the money harshly on the bar and turn to leave, but a familiar voice calling your name makes you turn back to it.
“I didn’t think of finding you here, precious!” Satoru’s voice calls you, raising his tone to let you hear him through the loud sound of the music. “Weren’t you stressed all week planning a hookup or something for tonight?”.
You frown, looking at him with annoyance as you roll your eyes.
“It wasn’t a hookup! It was dinner!” You raise your tone too, but he makes a gesture to his ear, pointing that he didn’t hear you correctly. You lean closer to his side, trying to resume it and be clear “My boyfriend couldn’t make it!”
He laughs, leaning his head to the side to smile at you. His cheeks are slightly pink and he seems a little more relaxed than other times, it could be a mistake of your eyes thanks to the lights moving and flickering, but you get the hint that his pupils might be even a little dilated.
“I thought that you’d dump him sooner or later!”
“You wish. I haven’t broken up with him!” You protest, hitting his chest softly and rolling your eyes as you take the last remains on your glass on the bar in one sip. You thought of leaving, but Satoru always makes his way to bring up a smile to you everytime that your boyfriend disappoints you.
Satoru clicks his tongue, stepping closer to you and leaning down a little to speak closer to your ear. There are so many things around you both in this club; music, lights, people and the vibrations of the music resonating, but even through all that, Satoru’s breath makes your skin shiver when he speaks.
“I could make this night better for you, If you want”.
Your eyebrows frown, leaning a little to the side to look at him with a chuckle. But all your playfulness goes away when his face is still closer to yours, looking at you with expectation and a little smile on his mouth.
“How are you planning to do that?” The answer from your mouth comes out in a soft whisper, so soft that it’s impossible that Satoru heard it with the loud music playing. But he clearly knows that, if it were the opposite, you would have laughed and leaned back, but you didn't.
So, when he leans closer and closer to your face, with his lips barely touching yours is when you finally give up. His cologne has combined with a faint smell of smoke and his lips are slightly opened, waiting for you to take the final step, to take the decision of cheating on your boyfriend.
Should I call him and tell him that I felt hurt? 
Your hand goes up through his body to grab the back of his neck.
He might feel sorry and make time for me if I tell him.
The possibility crosses your mind as your head tilts to the side to have a better angle with Satoru’s face.
But.
Will he be able to give me the same satisfaction as Satoru? 
It's the final thought that you have before his lips start to devour yours, skipping the "innocent kiss" part and immediately grabbing your waist to bring you closer.
You don't know when or how, but your hands are hugging his neck to bring him down to your lips, taking quick breaks between kisses to grab some fresh air and get back to him again. He's holding you with such strength like you might escape from him, but there's no better place in the world right now than being here, kissing him and forgetting about everything. 
His hands go down from your waist to your hips, reaching finally your ass to give it a squeeze that makes you pull back from the kiss to moan softly. Satoru takes the chance to kiss down your jaw and neck, sucking on your skin without a second thought to let a purple bruise grow on you.
The braces of your dress start to fall down while he keeps kissing and marking, his knee holds you between your legs to keep you standing as he rubs the clothed cunt with his bone. You can only moan and grab his hair between your fingers, too aroused to do anything.
There's a lot of people, people too lost on their fun or alcohol to care about you both making out in the bar, they don't even know that you have a boyfriend. But you still hold his hair tightly to bring him up, he moans in a tiny laugh when you pull him, getting turned on by any simple action from you.
“N–Not…”
Satoru sighs, about to let you go but you hold him tight before keep talking.
"S–Satoru…" He looks down at you, staring between your lips and your eyes like he's hypnotized. "Not here".
A bright smirk grows on his face as he answers a clear "I got you" before grabbing your hand to sneak away through the people and get you both inside the bathrooms of the club. To your luck, it was empty and he took the opportunity to quickly close the door with a key.
"Why do you have the keys of the bathrooms?" You ask, still dizzy from the makeout and rush.
"Yaga won’t notice that I grabbed them." he winks at you and walks closer to you to caress firmly from your thighs to your waist, slowly lifting your dress. You let out a soft whimper when his nails scratch softly on your skin. "Are you feeling doubtful?”
You open your mouth to answer, but a moan comes out before you can say anything when his hand has already reached your clothed cunt while the other harshly pulls down the top of your dress to let out your breasts, you startle at the soft sound of a rip as Satoru laughs softly as his face hides on the crook of your neck to keep kissing and marking your skin.
“Fuck, Satoru— This dress was expensive!” Despite your whine, you shout your eyes to ignore how sensitive you are by the friction of his shirt on your nipples. Every movement resonates on the echo of the bathrooms, being the total opposite to the rowdy club.
“I’ll buy you a new one, don’t worry” He whispers beside your ear and you feel your legs getting weak again, so you bring a hand down between his legs on the bugle on his pants to squeeze him up and down. 
Satoru lets out a broken moan on your clavicle that sounds like heaven thanks to the echo. 
The vibrations coming from your bag start to distract you, but there’s nothing that could care you more than Satoru’s hand rubbing your clit above your underwear. 
You try to grab out the phone to stop the buzzing but it's hard to get focused right now, so you throw the small bag on the counter of the bathroom to hold his hair tightly and start to grind your hips on his hand.
Satoru loves how desperate you are, stopping the movement of his hand between your thighs suddenly. You whine in protest but he turns you on your spot quickly to have you looking at your both reflects on the mirror.
The reflection of your sweaty and half naked body makes you feel a little nervous, but Satoru quickly pushes that thought away as he looks directly at your eyes on the reflection while he keeps kissing down your shoulders, the deep gaze on you and the sensation of his hard crotch grinding on your ass makes you feel the most desired you ever felt on months. 
His hand returns down and puts aside your panties to slide inside the tip of two of his fingers inside your wet cunt, your body shakes at the action, holding the counter with one hand while the other holds his hand between your legs by instinct. Satoru immediately pulls out his fingers and you protest, again.
“W–What? Why did you stop?” Your voice comes out shaky, turning your head back slightly to look at his face.
“It’s not fun if you aren’t looking too.” Satoru pouts on your shoulder, returning the tip of his fingers to your entrance to lubricate them with the wetness around your folds. “Let’s enjoy the show together, okay?”
As his fingers slowly start to push inside you, you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to keep your gaze with half opened eyes on the mirror as he is fingering you and the other hand squeezes your breasts, pinching the nipples between his nails and making you squirm on him. All the movement of your body makes the grinding on his erection get more persistent, causing you both to moan and groan as his fingers keep digging and curling on your folds.
Moans and wet sounds resonate thanks to the echo of the bathrooms, echoing louder when your orgasm starts to get closer.
“Sa–Satoru… D–Don’t stop” You moan, almost crying of pleasure when his palm starts to rub harder on your swollen clit when his movements get a faster peace and spreading your juices all around your cunt. “I–I’m gonna cum!”
“Yeah? Are you gonna cum by the fingers of someone who’s not your boyfriend?” His voice is raspy, struggling to answer through his hard breathing.
It’s embarrassing, but you nod desperately, grinding harder on his hand and squeezing one of your breasts while the other holds his hair for support to not fall off because of the big orgasm coming.
“Yes! Yes and I l–love it!”
Satoru laughs shakily, curling his fingers and kissing your neck as he answers.
“Cum all over my fingers, darling. You won it.” He orders, and you cum almost instantly in a loud cry. All your squirming and shaking during the explosion of your orgasm makes you stop looking at the mirror, but fortunately this time he decides to enjoy the show by himself.
Satoru waits patiently for you to stop spasming to let you ride the orgasm as long as you can, trembling and standing up just because of his hold on your body. He pulls out his fingers to grab your hips and you whine breathless.
“Don’t whine, you look like you ran a marathon. One where you arrived at the last.” He teases, resting his head beside you with a smirk.
“S–Shut up.” You hiss, pushing your ass back to feel him and make him groan. “Wait until I make you cum next”.
He moans heavenly again, resting his forehead on your shoulder and struggling to speak with your movements, but not making a movement to stop you.
“I don’t want you to blame me for cheating on your dear boyfriend, y’know?” 
You roll your eyes, moving a little from his hold to lift the back of your dress to leave it hanging on your waist and pull down your panties. You hold the porcelain counter to arch your back better and jiggle your ass for him.
“So you want to lose the opportunity to do it raw?” 
Those words are heavy. 
You don’t even let your boyfriend cum inside, you use birth control but still you ask him to use a condom. You don’t even bother to blame the few shots you drank, you know that he gave you the best orgasm in two years since you started dating your partner. Right now, you don't even care if he rips in two halves the expensive dress that may be covered in sweat by now.
Satoru bites hard on his lip, looking everywhere but your tempting ass in sight for him. Now he’s the one doubting, but it doesn't last long before you hear the sound of his belt tinkling and feel his hands squeezing your butt to spread it.
He looks at your wet folds, dripping down the remains of your cum on your thighs, he grabs the base of his hard cock and rubs it on your entrance. 
"God— Baby" He hisses when the red tip starts to slide inside you and is received by your gummy walls already tightening. You moan sharply when he starts to push and let you feel his hard veins "You’re so fucking tight. So hot."
You moan sharply without any doubt anymore as his length makes his way inside you. Even if you can't see him, you feel the slight curvature of his cock pushing more and more on your G-Spot.
"I haven't had a good fuck in some time." The words come out in a breath once he has finally pushes all inside, his hands grab your hips firmly before he starts thrusting with a slow rhythm.
After the first orgasm, you’re still sensitive with any touch of his skin on yours.
"I guess I can fix that." He laughs, starting to send thrusts that make your ass jiggle slightly by the hit. Satoru's patience seems to blow away once you start to push back for more.
"Please… Ruin me, please" you fix your gaze again on the mirror, loving how Satoru seems almost hypnotized by your ass recoil while you get a view of your tits hanging side to side from his thrusts. "Make me feel guilty for enjoying another man's cock so much".
"Fuck— You're such a dirty girl, huh?" Satoru finally starts to send harder thrusts that resonate loudly, not enough with the sound of  his hips hitting your ass, his hand sends a slap on it, making you moan in a broken voice "A slut so fucking needy for a good cock, yeah?"
“Yes—! Yes I–I am” You nod, too cock drunk by how he keeps hitting on the weak spot on your gummy walls.
He laughs shakily and grabs your neck to bring your back against his chest, his hand holding your neck as the other crosses around your stomach to hold your cunt close to his thrusts.
It's hard to look at the reflection with the small tears forming on your eyes since this position gives his curve a better angle to get you crying his name. Your hands just can hang on your sides as your body receives all his hard thrusts. 
Satoru also looks at the reflection with his lips half opened and keeping his gaze on your numb body. When your insides start to tighten around him on the advice of your second orgasm approaching Satoru bends again your body closer to the counter. 
His hand grabs one of your thighs to put it on the counter and push your face against the mirror, his cock slams harder than before inside you as your body smashes violently on the mirror while your orgasm hits you screaming his name.
"Fuck— You're a fucking angel, gorgeous" Satoru keeps thrusting hard and messy until, in a hard thrust, you feel a warm start to fill your aching cunt.
You breathe heavy against the mirror, leaving a spot of mist on it while your whole body trembles while Satoru keeps thrusting inside you to push his cum further as the music of the club sounds like it's far away from you.
You both stay like that for a little, trying to put your heartbeats again on a stable rhythm. 
Satoru gently seats you on the counter when he pulls out and notices the weakness on your body. You blush softly, mumbling a soft 'Thanks' with your dry throat.
"No round two, then?" He jokes, fixing his pants and grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser.
"You look as fucked out as me, Satoru" you laugh softly, pointing at his flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead. He approaches near you to clean you with the paper towels you startle, pushing him immediately "Wait— What are you doing!?"
"Cleaning you up?" He asks with an skeptical tone "I know that anyone has ever cummed inside you and you don't know that, but—"
"I've done it like this before, Satoru".
Satoru only answers a soft "Oh" that is followed by a wide grin, his hand gives your thigh a small squeeze that makes you jump on your spot slightly.
"So you've been naughty before, huh?"
"Shut up, Satoru" you look away from him, pulling closer your bag to give it to him "I have some tissues here, use them. I don't trust in those paper towels".
"We literally just had sex in here" he protests, but still grumbles around your small bag to look for the tissues, but suddenly stops the movement when he notices something.
Instead of grabbing your tissues, Satoru brings out your phone and shows you a screen of a call in progress with your boyfriend.
You quickly grab the phone and put it on speaker, hoping that he answered with the phone still on his jeans.
"Hello?"
"Fuck off". You hear his voice and then the finished call sound comes.
You don't even feel bad or guilty after finding out that he maybe heard you fucking with another man, you just look at the phone surprised by all the things that happened so quickly. 
After some seconds, you feel again Satoru squeezing your thighs and you look up from your phone at his smirk looking at you with wide eyes.
"So… Are you single now?"
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splataii · 3 days
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thigh fucking with ayato to relieve his stress from work so he bends the reader in his desk while degrading him (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
ayato x reader
cw: domtop character, subbottom reader, degradation, minor feminization (use of the word cunt), minor voyeurism, minor sir kink, petnames
lmk if i miss anything!
<3
“sir.. please,” you squirm under ayato as his body keeps you bent over his desk, hand on the small of your back as he feels around for a small bottle in his desk.
“what? this where you want it?” he smiles as he traces a finger up your exposed hole watching as it winks back up at him, leaning back to spread the lube all over it, “in this slutty cunt a yours?”
“‘m not a slut..” you slur, biting back a moan as he laughs, your face too cute to ignore. i mean your body is practically jumping at his touch while your poor cunt tries to take his fingers in, desperate to be filled.
it had been another regular day in the office before you were called up for another one of your lil “private meetings”, the angst on his face clear as day the moment you stepped through those grand doors.
the man is in desperate need of an actual break, what with the commission beating down his door 24/7, and ayato couldn't think no one better than his favorite boy..
his boy, to give it to him.
you were just made to take him. your desperate whines and moans music to his ears as he slowly jerks off your sad cock, spreading the lube all between your thighs and back up to your eager hole. honestly, he can't imagine how he ever makes it through the day without you
if he could just pay you to look all pretty bent over his desk, filling that pretty boycunt a yours up like it deserves to be filled, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
“oh, puppy, look at you,” he coos sweetly in your ear, his dick jerking against the curve of your ass as he bends over to take your dick in his hands, dirtying it with your precum, “this is all it takes to get you wet? a whore like u cant go two minutes without having his hole stuffed, hmm?”
your ass perks up to his touch on instinct, rutting against him for some friction on your rim. you needed him inside you so bad.
“no baby,” ayato hums, small frown on his face as he presses his finger into the skin of your hip to hold you still, “none of that,”
his hard cock slides in between the warmth of your lube slick thighs, groan escaping his lips as you clench around him from the sensation. your hips stutter as you rock against him, the feeling of his cock against yours just too much to handle.
“what a slutty little ass you’ve got,” he gropes, “what did i tell you?”
“please,” you shake your head, hole winking up at him everytime he prods, begging for any sort of attention, “please put it in, please sir,”
and you make it so hard to resist what with the sweet way his name falls off your tongue.. but only good dogs get treats he reminds you, all gentle smiles as he runs his hands down your back and squeezes at your thigh, finally starting to fuck you in earnest.
“stay tight. don't let up till i finish,” he grunts, keeping you bent over his desk as your hands grip onto the edges of the table in an attempt to keep balance against the smack of his hips against your ass. the tip of his dick pokes through your thighs as he uses them like a fleshlight, spreading his pre all over you and the underside of your abandoned cock.
ayato's all up on you, chest pressed against your back as he groans in your ear so you can know personally just what you do to him. it has you fucking yourself back on his hard cock, begging for him to just touch you already, but the sudden ringing of his old desk phone distracts you.
ayato reaches for it, your eyes widening as you glance up at him shaking your head, but he just holds a single finger to his lips before sliding the phone onto his shoulder, giving his fingers full freedom to slide back into position on the small of your back as he slows his thrusts to a slow grind of his dick. you've got nothing to worry about, really. he's gonna make sure to fuck all those useless thoughts out your pretty little head all the same.
“yes?” he doesn't do much to hide the annoyance in his tone, his hands pressing into your warm skin, using you like some cheap toy as he forces you to stay down and take it.
“two pm? no, cancel that, thank you. yes i’m sure,”
it feels like his stupid talk could go on for forever, but he still manages to stay cool on call as he draws the softest moans out of you, pulling out from your thighs to see how you flinch when he slaps his dick across your unused hole, lightly tapping the side of ur ass so you can arch for him some more just like a good toy should. it all has your mind falling away, uselessly rutting yourself back onto his cock as he plays with you, making sure to stay all pretty laid out on the desk for him.
“i’m a little busy at the moment,” he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder as he squeezes at your ass, voice almost a low whisper, “isn't that right?”
all you can do is nod your head, body too hot and aching to say no. so thoroughly fucked out you don't even notice hes ended the call already, phone disgarded somewhere on his desk as he picks up his pace again, watching his cock dissapear into the folds of your thighs as his free hand reaches around your middle.
“gods, youre so fucking filthy, look at you,” he laughs, pinching at the head of your cock, spreading your pre all over his fingers, “you really get off from being used like that?”
“‘m not,” your words break off what with the way your body betrays you, thighs clenching as he starts jerking off your pathetic cock,
“i wonder how everyone would react,” he leans down to your level, lips warm on your ear as he keeps his hand tight around you, “if they saw how wet you get from just the touch of my fingers,”
you rut back into his hand, silently begging, but he keeps his touches light, laughing at how desperate you get.
"use your words, puppy," he gently hums before squeezing your chin in his hands and forcing your mouth open with his fingers. his face is so close to yours you can feel his words on the skin of your neck, but his body keeps you pinned against the desk stuck from facing him, "cmon, tell me what you want,"
“please, sir,,” your body jerks as you cry, way too focused on chasing his hand. the feel of his fingers tracing over your tip, the rhythmic sound of his skin on yours, it leaves your head too empty to think of anything but release.
“a slut like you can do better than that”, he moves his hand from your dick, the smile on his lips clear as day as he listens to your incoherent moans, rubbing your mess all over your tummy.
“please let me cum, please,”
you can feel the smile on his lips as he takes your wrists in one hand, lifting you from his desk and exposing your fucked out body to the empty office.
your head falls back against his chest, body almost giving out when he finally takes your cock in his hand and finally gives you what you've been begging so prettily for.
“that’s it, let it all out,” your legs shake as you jerk your hips to try and match his pace, head too dumb to do anything but whine as you finally cum, voice caught all up in your throat, ayato's lips on yours silencing you as he finishes all over your thighs, and you all over his hand.
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ghostofhyuck · 1 day
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NCT Dream and how they will court you. 
AN: To the filo-czennie who requested this, thank you! <3 to give more context. Courting is a tradition that Filipinos do wherein they do gestures, actions, and such to prove to a girl that they're worthy to be their significant other. (think of it as someone swooning a girl in order to win their heart.) I'm pretty sure some other countries also have courting tradition but it's common here in the Philippines! <3 (I wrote a filipino version for this one. this is for the filo-czennies hehe.)
Mark Lee
Let's be REAL. He'll do any music-related when it comes to courting you. He'll be the type to write lyrics or maybe compose a song that is dedicated only for you. If he's feeling it, he'll write a whole mixtape about you because that's just how he can show his love for you! If not, I feel like Mark would be the type to give you a playlist full of songs that reminds him of you!! He's also a family man so I bet that he'll also need to win your family's vote when he's courting you. And your family likes him because he's such a gentleman to begin with. <3
Huang Renjun
I feel like Renjun would be the type to give you gifts and what-nots if he's courting you. He's the type to spoil you because you deserve it and he loves your reactions whenever you open his gifts. It can be either expensive type of gifts like jewelries or cute trinkets that reminds him of you! Either way, you appreciate his efforts. Also! I think that Renjun's other love language is food, so I bet that he's the type to bring you to a lot of food dates, (hotpot of course!) or would send you food whenever you're craving food! It could be as simple like a cup of coffee when you're in the middle of your study, or a batch of cookies because you were craving for it!
Lee Jeno
Oh definitely a quality time type of man. Jeno wants to know you better and vice versa, so he makes sure that you two spend much time together! It can be either going out for a date, any type of date! (amusement park, food date, and maybe a mall date) or just you two staying indoor, doing mundane things, (watching movies, playing games, or just cuddling.) Even though you two are still in the courting stage, it already feels domestic whenever you two stay indoors. Also Jeno would be the type to use words, probably loves comforting you and gives you tons of compliments. 
Lee Donghyuck
I believe in clingy Haechan so I feel like even during the courting stage, he's already clingy to you but not too much! He's just the type to hold hands with you, hug you before you two separate ways, and kisses you if you let him be. Just anything where he can hold onto you will be enough for him. He also loves endless calls too since he's talkative, I feel like if you two haven't seen each other in a while, calls will be his way to know what happened to you, and vice versa. He'll ask you how's your day and he'll be so into the dramas that's happening to you, probably knows your best friend's cheating boyfriend at some point that he wants to fight him. 
Na Jaemin
BLUSHING RN but I'm sorry, Jaemin has to be the sweetest out of all Dreamies. He has too! He just knows how to swoon you and he's such a gentleman! He's an act of service guy, so I bet when he was still courting you, he'll be the type to pick you up from your place and walk you to school and vice versa. He never missed unless it's an emergency! He loves this mundane things, holding your hands, and also carries your bag on the way lol. Jaemin probably knows what you want and you don't like, so he takes notes of it everytime you two go out on a date. So you'll be surprise that he remembers while he'll be smug about it. 
Zhong Chenle
Chenle thinks that courting you means taking you out to multiple dates and giving you gifts. It can be the former or the latter, and sometimes it can be both! You swear that Chenle's spoiling you too much but that's just how he show to you that he likes you and wants to be your boyfriend. Whenever you two go on a date, he take notes of what you want, like when you two are at the amusement park gift shop and he saw you staring at this cute capybara plushie, you'll be surprise that at the end of the date, he gives you a plastic bag that contains the plushie. He'll probably loves teasing you too but that's because he thinks you're cute when you're annoyed. 
Park Jisung
Another guy who loves giving you gifts when he was courting you. Flowers. Mostly flowers, he'll be the type who thinks careful of what flowers to give you, and would be so happy explaining to you that the flowers that he gave you symbolizes love and happiness. You find his efforts sweet and cute. Aside from that, I feel like Jisung is good with words. He's VERY flirty with you that sometimes it caught you off-guard, knowing that he has a shy demeanor when he first started courting you. He'll probably cringe when he's all alone, remembering all the things he said to you. He'll curl up in a corner and thinks that you find him cringe but the truth is, you were very flustered!
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wingedhallows · 10 days
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misunderstandings ; remus lupin
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pairing: remus lupin x reader | 1k words plot: misunderstandings are best undone ontop of the astronomy tower at night with a cigarette in hand. authors note: i promised you this work last weekend but something came up and i couldn't post but here I am, hope you enjoy :)
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“How am I supposed to focus?” You whispered, mouth in a scowl. His hand was in yours, his eyes focused on the workbook in front of him. The sun lit the yard in warm light, you loved spring at Hogwarts. His thumb stroked your skin, his mouth in a small smile.
“Figure it out, love.” You couldn’t focus on the words in front of you, the letters swimming together in an effort to keep your cool. Your hand seemed to burn, was it desire? Desire for something you couldn’t have.
You knew that Remus wasn’t someone for relationships, he had told you himself.
He had made it awfully clear.
Though the common room was packed, loud music, alcohol in your system, you had heard his words loud and clear. 
“I don’t do relationships, Y/N. I’m not the one for you.”
You couldn’t get over how breathtakingly beautiful he was. His hair was unstyled and seemed to stick out in different directions. The scars which decorated his face was faint, but prominent for you. You knew what he was, you had seen it.
In third year you had caught his friends and him sneaking out, demanding for them to take you with them.
Remus wasn’t fast enough to get away, almost ripped your throat out that night. It still weighed on him, everytime he looked at you.
This secret of his felt like a connection, a connection which wasn’t all that deep, you figured.
The fact that what he did to you, how kind and affectionate he was, was hard. It was hard to not see him in the way you saw him now, to not desire his love and care. It was unfair and frankly, cruel.
“I gotta go.” You managed, your things already packed and you face in a cold mask, desperate to conceal the pain.
“Oh, alright.” He spoke before he pushed his hand in his lap, face in a kind smile.
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The astronomy tower was quiet, pieceful. The moon was up, the air cold. The cigarette in your hand felt like it lifted some weight off your shoulders, like it brought you some piece of mind. A tear left your eyes, heart heavy.
You had avoided Remus and his friends for the rest of day, excusing yourself when you caught sight of his brown hair.
You wanted to get away, to not think about the gryffindor any longer, you wished for the man to leave you alone, to not hog your mind for every minute you were awake. You blew some smoke into the night sky as a voice spoke.
“Here you are, I looked everywhere for you.” His face was adorned with a smile as he walked up to you, his hands pushing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. You brushed the tears away, your gaze anywhere but him.
“You missed some real fun in-Are you crying?” You shook your head, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“No, but you are.” He stated, walking in front of you. He bent down and put a finger under your chin, lifting your head.
“Who hurt you?” He asked, brows furrowed.
How dare he ask who had hurt you?
How dare he be up here when all you wanted to be away from him, to forget the pain he put you through. How dare he.
“Stop doing that.” You said, as you got up, swatting his hand away. He huffed a chuckle, pausing to take a drag.
“What do you mean? Worrying about you?” You turned around, throwing the done cigarette at his feet.
“Stop doing this.” You spoke louder. 
He leant against the railing, eyebrows still furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean, love.” You had to laugh, rolling your eyes as you stared him down.
“Don’t call me love, don’t be kind to me, stop holding my hand all the time, stop giving me love eyes, stop being like this when we both know that it never will be more.”
He took another drag as he pushed himself off the railing, eyes focused on you.
“Who said that?” You stared at him, face angry.
“You! You did, third year.” He let his head fall back, heaving a sigh. “What?” You scowled at him.
“Third year, house party, does that ring a bell?”
“I was drunk.” You shook your head, arms crossed.
“You were sober enough.” He took a step towards you, cigarette long forgotten on the ground. 
“So that’s why you gave me the cold shoulder all those years?” You didn’t answer as his hands found your elbows.
“Because I was thirteen, drunk and not in my right mind?” You shook your head as you looked at him.
“Your words were bright and clear.” His lips twisted into a small smile.
“I was drunk.” You huffed again, looking over his shoulder, to avoid his eyes. “As you said before.”
His hands found the side of your face, his lips still in this stupid beautiful smile.
“If I had known that what stood between us was a stupid drunk mistake I made when we were thirteen, I would’ve taken back every single word, love.” Your eyes found him, your lip caught between your lips.
“I’m sorry.” He said before his lips connected with yours. Your arms found his as he brushed your cheek.
“We should’ve spoken sooner.” You said, your hand still on his arm. He laughed as he caressed your arm.
“Not that you would’ve let me speak a word.”
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