Tumgik
#hopefully it isn’t too obvious
freakadr0id · 2 years
Text
ROTTMNT Character Fighting Style Analysis - Part 4: Donatello
Tumblr media
Hey! I’m back with my fight-style analysis! Sorry it took so long but we’re back in business!
This is a continuation of my first post about analyzing each of the Turtles' (+April's) fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses in a fight, and how Rise uses that to highlight different aspects of their character. I highly encourage you read that first before hopping into this one for full context. There is a bit of a TL;DR at the end.
[Part 1: Leo] [Part 2: Raph] [Part 3: Mikey] [...] [Part 5: April]
[Addendum] (Small addition to this analysis)
Next up on the stand is our dear Othello von Ryan aka Bootyyyshaker9000, aka...
Donatello: Striker/Support
Fighting Styles:
Categorizing Donnie's fighting style in Rise was surprisingly difficult as Donnie doesn't appear to have an easily identifiable pattern the way his brothers do. However, after I watched all the fights he's in several times over I've come to quite an interesting conclusion:
Unlike his brothers, Donnie doesn't have a specific fighting style - he has two.
Parry and Counterattack
Donnie's primary fight style in the show utilizes a more traditional combat approach (or as traditional as Donnie can get), utilizing his bo in combination with his tech to battle the enemy at close range. This fighting style is an interesting fusion of offensive and defensive techniques to create a style that caters to Donnie's strengths. It involves Donnie goading the enemy into attacking him with a series of swipes and jabs, then using a number of blocks and parry techniques to defend himself until he can find or create an opportune moment to create an opening and hit his foe with a devastating counterattack. While Donnie might not be the strongest turtle physically, his tech and proficiency with his bo make him a force to be reckoned with in his own right.
Tumblr media
Glass Cannon
Donnie's secondary method of fighting is one I would best describe as a "glass cannon" fight style. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the term 'glass cannon' comes from video games and TTRPGs and is used to describe a character that can deal a lot of damage, but has very little health and defense in return (think of wizard or ranged classes). "But wait, ‘Glass Cannon’ describes the attributes of a character, not their fighting style,” and yes, it does. However, in Donnie’s case, his fighting style changes in such a way that he becomes a glass cannon With this fighting style, Donnie tends to forgo the close-range, technical combat, instead more ranged attacks that rely solely on his tech. This is Donnie when he is fighting at his most offensive as these attacks can be VERY powerful and can deal a significant amount of damage, but they also leave him rather vulnerable. Donnie puts all his focus on dealing strong singular attacks, but if those fail, he ends up being more exposed to the enemy as his tech has very few defensive capabilities.
Tumblr media
Strengths and Roles in a Fight:
Striker
Donnie is the team's striker. His role in a fight is to deal powerful, precise hits against the enemy that are intended to quickly and efficiently defeat a foe. Both of his fight styles play into this role and both his Parry-and-Counterattack and Glass Cannon method are built to deliver strong, finalizing attacks. He is often seen entering a battle after his allies instead of charging right in (although he does sometimes do that - especially early on), choosing to be a bit more precise in who he fights, or joining an ally in order to provide that finishing blow if need be. His battleshell gives Donnie an aerial advantage, allowing him to swoop in unexpectedly and strike an enemy, or boost his speed and increase the strength of his attacks. While he is seen, on occasion, fighting outside of this role, he is at his strongest when filling the Striker position.
Tumblr media
Support
Donnie also fills the role of the team's Support and assists his brothers, April, and other members in a fight with the use of his tech (ha, get it - he's tech support). This is different than how Mikey supports the team as Mikey directly affects the enemy by disabling them, while Donnie supports the team by directly affecting those he's fighting alongside. Donnie provides numerous helpful gadgets with his tech that has a seemingly infinite number of configurations and uses in battle. His tech-bo had almost every tool under the sun and his goggles can give tactical information in a fight by pointing out weaknesses or additional information about an opponent. He also helps in moving allies around the battlefield using his hammer/tech-bo and battleshell, giving them a stronger advantage in the air and providing aerial assistance if needed. There are times when Donnie supports his allies by inhibiting the enemy, but more often than not his support is provided directly to his team.
Tumblr media
Utility:
Donnie's Parry and Counterattack style is, arguably, his best fighting style as he can utilize his tech while fighting without being overly reliant on it. When used properly he can go up against many types of enemies and it allows him to be a bit more adaptable in a fight than he is when he is using just his tech or just traditional fighting techniques.
His Glass Cannon fighting style should not be discredited, however, as it is incredibly strong, but it is more situational than the Parry-and-Counterattack method. There are times when it is useful to have that one powerful attack that can be used to finish off an enemy to deliver an immense amount of damage, but it needs to be done in tandem with his team. When Donnie fights as a Glass Cannon by himself, he becomes incredibly vulnerable and, without anyone to back him up, puts himself at huge risk when his attack fails. Having the others nearby help weaken the enemy, making his attack more effective, or can help defend Donnie should he need it.
Tumblr media
Donnie's fighting styles are best suited for short battles against a small number of enemies while he tends to have a hard time in long, drawn-out fights or against a large number of opponents. Donnie's strengths lie in his ability to deliver strong individual attacks, which work best when he is fighting against just a couple of enemies where he can properly focus his energy. However, the longer the fight goes on, the more Donnie begins to struggle - the longer the battle drags on, the more likely Donnie is to get hit. Despite the fact that he does very well on the defensive when using his Parry and Counterattack style, once Donnie gets hit it becomes very hard for him to recover.
Donnie's role as the Striker can conflict with his role as the Support, resulting in him often having to prioritize one over the other. If Donnie plays a more aggressive role in the fight, both his fighting styles don't give much opportunity for him to use his tech for anything but his own attacks. When Donnie needs to fall into his Support role, this means he has to significantly "back off," so to speak, so he can fully deploy and utilize his tech to help his team.
Tumblr media
How it plays into his character:
Donnie’s fight style and roles reveal a surprising amount of information about his character, including the complexities of his personality and how his strengths and flaws are demonstrated in the way he fights.
Donnie's Glass Cannon style is the direct result of his arrogance and overconfidence in his tech. Donnie takes pride in his tech and inventions, which isn't inherently a bad thing, however, this tends to feed into Donnie's arrogance, causing him to assume that his inventions could never fail. When he does this in battle, he puts so much emphasis on his tech and his confidence in its success that he doesn't consider the possibility that the attack may not work. However, there are times when the Glass Cannon fighting style is needed, which is when Donnie has to find a balance between relying on his tech for a powerful attack and having the humility to recognize when it may not be the best option.
Tumblr media
Donnie's Parry-and-Counterattack fighting style exemplifies how skilled Donnie can be when the best parts of his character come together. This fighting method requires Donnie to be skilled, patient, and tactical; while also demonstrating how Donnie can use his intelligence and engineering in battle without being overly reliant on it. Donnie can be rash and overeager in a fight, especially when it comes to using his tech, but when he uses his Parry-and-Counterattack style he is forced to address that in order to succeed. When Donnie uses his greatest strength, his intelligence, all of these pieces fall into place, making him a very strong fighter.
Tumblr media
Donnie's role as a Support may not be very obvious since he tends to fight more offensively, but the way he supports his team in a fight aligns very well with how Donnie expresses his care and affection for his family. Throughout the show, Donnie repeatedly tells us that emotion and affectionate gestures are difficult for him, which could make it seem that he has little care for his family. However, this is far from the case, Rise demonstrates time and time again that Donnie deeply cares about his family, but instead of expressing it outwardly, Donnie's affection comes through in his inventions. We see several instances in the show where Donnie makes upgrades to his tech to cater to his family's needs and interests - and he does the same thing in battle. He has several gadgets specifically designed to keep his family safe, and we see how he modifies his tech to accommodate the needs of others in a fight. The love Donnie has for his family translates into every part of their lives, including battle, even when it isn't immediately obvious to anyone else.
Tumblr media
In a Team Fight:
In a combined team effort, Donnie is the best option to go last in a team attack. Given Donnie's role as the Striker and his fighting style that is heavily geared towards singular heavy strikes, it makes sense for him to be the one to deliver that finishing blow. This is where his Glass Cannon style works best as his allies have already worn the enemy down enough to make his final, tech-heavy particularly devastating.
With the mobility and the assistance he can provide with his tech, Donnie can help set up a follow-up attack, but this means he has to take a more passive role in the fight and he doesn't get much of a chance to attack. This can be beneficial when going against weaker opponents, but less so when fighting stronger enemies.
Donnie doesn't work as well as an attacker in the early positions in a team attack as his skills as a fighter are not suited to properly set up a coordinated effort. Even though his Parry-and-Counterattack style can create an opening in the opponent's defense, it also needs a very quick attack to follow up on that, which is difficult to execute without another person nearby. Attacking first or second may also require Donnie to fight his foe for a longer period of time, which increases the chance that Donnie will get hit and won't give him the time needed to recover from it.
Tumblr media
~-~-~-~
Donnie's analysis was definitely the most difficult one of the bunch. Whereas Leo, Raph, and Mikey all have instantly recognizable roles and fighting styles, Donnie's was much more complex. You know he's the tech guy in and out of a fight, but trying to find where he fits into battle beyond that was challenging. Interestingly enough, it mirrors how his own character is presented, where you know Donnie's general shtick early on, but it can be difficult to understand his character beyond the surface level if you don't pay attention.
Tumblr media
~-~-~-~
[TL;DR: Donnie has two distinct fighting styles in the show - one that prioritizes close-range Parrying and Counterattack techniques and one where he prioritizes his tech and becomes a Glass Cannon. These both feed into his role as the team's Striker, where he functions best as the final attack in a team battle - while also acting as the team's Support by assisting his allies with less combative tech. His roles and fighting style are all very indicative of Donnie's overall personality and the complexities of his character.]
Oh it’s good to be back doing these again. Sorry again for taking so long, but college be college and college be a bi- well, you know. Next up is our girl April O’Neil. I really will try to get it out tomorrow but I won’t make any guarantees.
3K notes · View notes
camillahectt · 1 year
Text
+
0 notes
writing-fanics · 1 month
Text
[title wip]
[warning: mentions of cheating: abandoned]
[sneak peek of the idea I had of Lucifer cheating on and abandoning his wife without knowing she was pregnant]
“It’s been awhile,” she gripped her desk, her nails digging into the wood. She breathed in and kept her head down, “Sure has..” Her voice cold, and distant harsh. “Y-You, look great.” He stammered nervously, scratching the back of his neck.
She rolled her eyes, and scoffed. “Why’re you here?” She asked, finally lifting her head to look at him. He pursed his lips, and he saw it the years of grief and pain he dumped on her when he left her for Lilith.
“I-I wanted to see you?” He said, and she scoffed in response. “Lies.” She said, and glared at him.
“Why’re you really here?” She asked, looking at him coldly. He cleared his throat and looked at her, “U-Um, it’s my daughter she wants a meeting with Heaven.” He said, and she looked at him raising her eyebrow.
“B-But, I did also really wanna see you.” He said, nervously and she rolled her eyes. “Your daughter, wants a meeting with Heaven?” She asked curiously.
“It’s this project she has this dream,” he stammered.
“Hm, she must get it from you.” She said, and he smiled nervously looking at his ex wife.
“I’ll bring the matter to the older Seraphims,” she said, and he smiled letting out a sigh of relief.
“T-Thank you, just hear her out please.” He said, even though he got her the meeting he was nervous. Scared that his daughter, would end up like him. His dreams crushed by Heaven.
He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring anymore. Even though they didn’t officially get divorced, it’s been over ten thousands years since he left her.
His eyes wandered around the room, and landed on a framed photograph. A young man, with golden hair and blue eyes, who looked an awfully a lot like how he did before he was banished to hell. Damien Lightbringer, my light, when all I could see was dark.
He opened his mouth to speak, “You can go now,” She said, before he had time to ask. He raised his finger opening his mouth, “who’s Damien?” She glared at him, her grip tightening around her pen almost breaking it in two.
“Why would you care? You abandoned us?” She snarled, gritting her teeth. Lucifer stood there confused for a moment, as what she said sank in.
“Us?” He mumbled, and she just sighed shaking her head. “The last name isn’t that obvious?” She asked, sarcastically.
Lightbringer - Morningstar?
“Hey, mom I-” Damien entered the room, and froze standing in the doorway. His eyes turned towards his mother who looked at him, sympathetically. As his gaze drifted towards, Lucifer. Damien stared at him with disgust before turning his attention back towards his mother.
Still working on this but eventually she tells him that he’s his son..
Damien hates Lucifer like really hates him.. but if I make multiple chapters will eventually try to fix their relationship or it might just be too late
Not me planning on possibly killing off the son. driving a deeper wedge into Lucifer trying to hopefully fix his relationship with his ex
1K notes · View notes
yenqa · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER
READ HERE!
in which...
you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.
pairing — heeseung x fem!reader
genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic
wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)
warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food
featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers
disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.
release date — hopefully by mid march?
taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!
yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit
Tumblr media
YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND
A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.
You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.
“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach. 
It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.
That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?
You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile. 
Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.
After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return. 
Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.
Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.
You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.
Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture. 
“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.
“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?” 
You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?
“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”
Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help?  . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.
Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”
He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.
“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.”  That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.
You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down? 
The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.
You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again,  it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?
Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away. 
Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.
Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.
Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy. 
Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.
Tumblr media
perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss
yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
1K notes · View notes
jonghoslvt · 14 days
Text
— Bound by Desire
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synpopsis: Seonghwa shows you just how pleasurable it can be when you’re bound up .
Pairing: Seonghwa! X Fem!Reader
Genre: smut!
Notes: bondage, Bdsm, reader is tied up, Dom Seonghwa, fingering, pussy eating, size kink, voice kink, hookup, unprotected sex, hair pulling, reader is tied up, Sub reader, sort of a hookup but better, fem reader, endearing names
_______________________________________________
Never did you think that he would ever be on this app but life has a way of making things connect. Park Seonghwa, you knew him through hongjoong as they were practically brothers to each other so you Would often see him if you were going to hang out with him. You’ll admit you always found Seonghwa attractive, who wouldn’t? He’s the sort of man every girl would have a crush on. He’s someone that always had the ability to make heads turn in a crowd, there’s no harm in admitting that you’ve fantasized about him a couple of times or worn something cute on the off chance that you’d see him with hongjoong. To get to the point, you matched with him on a hookup app and now you were on your way to a date with him, nothing crazy you both just thought it would be best to let the tension build up and figured that a short date would set the mood and boy, was it happening. You weren’t even expecting to match with him either, he always struck you as the ‘hard to get’ type, the sort of man you could throw yourself at but not get very far.
As you’re sipping on your drink you can feel Seonghwa staring at you, his eyes were practically picturing you naked but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t doing the same thing to him. “So,” “Can I ask what you were doing on a hookup app?” Seonghwa smiles in content “Same reason as you, I have needs and I want them to be met,” he trails off for a moment “why did you match with me? There are better looking men out there so why choose to to hook up with me?” Seonghwa knew he was better looking than most men, he just wanted an answer and The confrontation had your brain short circuiting, you can’t just say you have a crush on him. You were so embarrassed but Seonghwa only breaks the tension by laughing a bit, taking a sip of his drink “nervous hm? There’s no need to be I know you have a crush on me.” Great now he’s a mind reader “What!” “I’m not stupid Y/n, hongjoong talks about you almost all the time, and I’ve hung out with you enough times to know that sometimes you dress the way that you do for me.” He runs his fingers through his hair, maintaining eye contact with you, his smile never once falters..were your actions that obvious? You did try to be subtle around him.
“Someone’s a little cocky.” “Or I’m just right, it’s okay to admit, it’s not like hongjoong is here to make fun of you. Or you could remain adamant, it’s your choice, I don’t mind a bit of bratty behavior.” He leans forward, a finger tracing under your chin “I know how to tame attitudes like that after all.” You push his hand away and he grins “I don’t know about you but I’m feeling incredibly impatient, should we get out of here?” “Yes..” your answer came out a little too quick and desperate but fuck it, at this point your body was craving him badly.
The two of you left the restaurant, and when you arrived at the doorstep of his place your stomach started to do flips. This was the first time you’d ever been here as he’s always at hongjoongs place. the both of you weren’t really friends that hung out, just acquaintances who know each other more than a stranger would and you won’t lie you’re nervous. Opening the door, Seonghwa moves out of the way and allows you in first, walking in behind you and closing the door after, upon looking around you could see just how much effort and thought he put into decorating his home, it was clean, neat and he seemed to really enjoy solid colors like black, white or gray, it felt incredibly comfortable and inviting. “I didn’t have much time to clean, so hopefully it’s fine.” This isn’t clean to him? Now you have to see how this place would look if he went all out “no worries, looks pretty good to me.” You watch as he takes off his shoes and so you follow suit, figuring that he would want you to do the same.
“Follow me to my room.” You follow closely behind him as he leads you to his room, eyes wondering around his place but you mostly looked at his back, watching his muscles tighten even under his jacket. Seonghwa turns on the light in his room, dimming it down just a little to set the mood, slowly he slips out of his jacket and neatly places it on his chair, looking back at you “I can’t be the only one removing clothes darling, let me see how you look without that sweater on.” You blush, taking off your sweater, you can see that his eyes are full of want and god did you want him to push you onto the bed and have his way.
“Come here,” he says sitting down on the edge of the bed, his legs slightly spread, you walk over and he traces a hand along your waist down to your hips “tell me sweetheart, you ever heard of bondage?” He begins tracing the outline of your waist and pulls you down onto his lap, his hands resting on your upper thighs, this makes your heart almost jump out of your chest “y-yes I have.” He Hums “well it’s something I adore, something I take very seriously and I was wondering, perhaps you’d like to try it out?” You look back at him “you want to tie me up?” He chuckles “when you say it like that..it sounds so tame, but the answer is yes.” Well it’s not as if you’ve never been handcuffed in bed before, being tied up shouldn’t be any different “I suppose you could do that.” “Oh yeah?” He says sensually in your ear, biting the top of it softly which makes you let out a quiet moan, he was seriously making you wet with every word and movement. “thats good, being bound, having your movement restricted, stripped away..it opens up a whole new world of pleasure.”
You squirm in his lap, wanting the pace to pick up but it seemed like he wasn’t in a rush “wanna strip for me or do you need help getting those clothes off?” You bite your lip “I think I’m gonna need some help, please.” Seonghwa happily obliges, he flips you onto the bed and hungrily takes every article of clothing off but when he got to your undergarments he slid down your panties with his teeth and unhooked your bra with one hand, showcasing his experience, and fuck was it hot. He sits back, taking in every inch of your body, admiring your curves and loving the look of absolute need on your face. He could just see that you were begging to be touched and who was he to ignore a damsel in front of him. “Where do you want to be touched first bunny?” “My boobs..” in the past you were shy with sexual partners, which often resulted in a pleasureless experience, you learned that you had to speak up and that if you were going to fuck someone then they needed to be mindful and right now Seonghwa was doing just that.
Seonghwa joins you on the bed, his hand slithering to your inner thighs where he watched you suck in a breath. Then it inched closer and closer until he reached your chest, his finger swiping over your nipple. You arched your back a little, toes curling when his tongue starts latching onto your nipple, teeth grazing against it, his hand massaging the other, your boobs were sensitive to touch like this and all of the pleasure traveled down to your inner parts which only made you want him to hurry up. “Seonghwaa, you’re going so slow.” He looks up, flicking his tongue over your nipples “darling this is foreplay, It’s going to be a little slow,” “but you’re cute when you’re needy. what else would you like me to do huh? Want me to eat you out? Wanna feel my fingers inside of you? Whatever you want I can give it to you.” His voice was so smooth, the way he asked about what you wanted, it bounced around in your head, making you even more desperate for him to fuck you.
“Can you eat me out?” He thought you’d never ask “Wanna part those pretty legs for me then.” In seconds your legs are parted and Seonghwa takes a quick moment to just admire the sight in front of him, you were about to learn that aside from bondage, eating someone out was a form of art to him, a profession and that no one’s ever complained about the way he does it. Seonghwa dips down, his flexible tongue laying flat on your clit, he moves it around, sliding it through your folds and prods at your hole. If there’s one thing you’ve always wanted from him, it was this, quite a few times you’ve seen just how long and flexible his tongue was, it was somewhat of a party trick.
If someone asked what strange thing he could do, he’d stick his tongue out and you’d watch as it practically touched the bottom of his chin, it was thick, and you’ve spent many nights wishing he’d use it on you.
Slowly his tongue slides past your walls, mouth latching onto you entirely as he ate you out like it was the last time he’d ever do it. He had your back arching, your toes curling so much that they’d cramp up. You gripped the bed sheets, moans filling up the room “Oh god, shit,” you breathed out, legs shaking as he held you down “Fuck Seonghwa.” It came out as a desperate cry, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure in your life, which was sad really, every man should be capable. “I’m gonna cum of you keep going.” Your head was spinning, pussy quivering as he didn’t show any signs of stopping and when your first orgasm hit you, it was hard.
You came against his mouth and he eagerly lapped it up like water, helping you ride it out, placing kisses on your clit which only overstimulated you. Finally he looks up, and you’re too busy trying to get yourself back down to earth, head laid back on the bed “we’re not done yet bunny, we’ve got so much more to get to.” Seonghwa gets up and heads over to his closet and you’re propped up on your elbows watching, seeing him take out the rope, it’s a little intimidating to look at but when he notices how tense you are he props it on the nightstand and sits back on the bed “if you’re not comfortable with me tying you up, you don’t have to go through with it. Your comfort comes first, I take that very seriously.” “It’s a bit intimidating..having to relinquish control.” You respond and he nods “it definitely is and I won’t force you if you’re not feeling it darling, but I can tell you that while it is a little scary it’s also a very great experience. I was thinking of doing a basic harness knot, and slowly working you up to be blindfolded.” “Blindfolded?” “It’s a powerful combination, not knowing where you’re going to be touched, it heightens all of your senses, the pleasure gets better.”
Seonghwa was definitely someone you felt comfortable with, Hongjoong is your best friend and you’ve never doubted his judgement when it came to who he hangs out with so as long as it’s him doing this, there won’t be any complaints on your end. “And if I want you to stop halfway through?” “Soon as you utter the safe word I will stop.” “Speaking of that,” he says “do you have a safe word you want to use sweetheart?” “Um, I think I’ll go with Red.” He grabs the rope off the nightstand and begins to untie it from the knot it was in “Red, alright so anytime you say Red this will stop and we can do something else or I can take you home, does that sound alright?” You nod in agreement “and y/n, I would prefer for you to say yes or no rather than nod or shake your head, I just want to make sure we are on the same page.” “I understand.” “Good,”
Before using the rope, Seonghwa looks back at you, eyes looking down at your lips “can I kiss you?” You answer him by pulling him by his collar, your lips moving along his. This was the first time either of you kissed each other, and this was also something you’d been wanting to do with him as well. You remember the amount of times you’ve practically zoned out watching him speak, only watching his lips move. Actually you two came close to kissing just once, you turned around once while he was behind you and your lips hovered over his, you never knew why he was so close you just knew that it took everything in you not to practically jump on him at that very moment. You both kissed for a bit, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hand slithering down to your clit and messing with it, he did that to incite a reaction out of you and it worked. You slightly jumped a bit, legs closing instinctively as you broke the kiss “hey, don’t be sneaky.” He grins, holding back a laugh “I’m sorry bunny, you’re just too cute.” He kisses your forehead “hands up darling.” You do as your told and Seonghwa begins doing the chest harness, the feeling is definitely different, it’s tight but not to the point of hurting and if you’re honest it kind of feels good “now down.” You put your arms down and he ties them behind your back, which makes you feel much more exposed now that you can’t cover yourself up, it’s embarrassing but you somehow enjoy it. “Should we put the blindfold on?” “No, I want to see you.”
“And Do you want to see yourself?” “I don’t know..It seems sort of embarrassing.” He puts a finger under your chin in order to get you to look directly at him “so then what would you like to do now hm? You may be tied up but the choice is still yours.” Your eyes can’t help but travel down and for some reason you’re just noticing that he’s hard, his length visible even from outside of his pants, you realize that he’s been giving you most of the pleasure, not really caring much for his. It doesn’t take long for him to notice where your eyes are and that makes him chuckle “if you have something to say i encourage you to speak up.” Without even hesitating you say it “I want to suck you off.” It’s a little vulgar but Seonghwa likes the honesty nonetheless “I know,” he stands up and unbuttons his pants, dropping them and his underwear only halfway down, he sits on the edge of the bed, cock standing hard and leaking precum. He parts his legs a little and helps you off the bed since your balance is a little awkward. Now you’re in between his legs, and he’s looking down at you, eyes dark, he moves your hair out of your face and caresses your jaw “sure you can handle it?” “You know I can.” He grips the back of your neck and moves you forward “you know what to do then princess.”
You lick from the base to the tip, your tongue licking away any precum that dripped out of him. Being as this is the first time you’re pleasuring him he grits his teeth and guides you. You’re quite experienced in this area so without any trouble you sit up a little in order to take him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking his entire length. Often times you’d look up to see his reaction and you’re satisfied when you see that his eyes are clamped shut, his lip caught between his teeth. Your tongue swirls around the tip and his fingers get caught in your hair as he pulls out, which only makes you give a look of surprise “did I hurt you?” His cock twitches “No, I was just about to cum,” “you’re way too good at that.” You smile and he helps you back onto the bed, now he’s really feeling it, he’s got your face pressed against the mattress, legs slightly parted, ass up “need to be inside of you now,” you whimper at his words, your hole clenching around nothing, this is what you’ve been waiting for. He preps you a little bit more, fingers stretching you out and he growls when your hole eagerly sucks them up “so needy.” When you’re good and ready he takes his fingers out, his hand colliding with your ass, it stings but in a good way. His hips move forward and he lines the tip against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in and once again your hole eagerly sucks him right up. The feeling of his cock filling you up had your head spinning, already you felt your second orgasm approaching. “Fuck.” Seonghwa manages to hold back, letting you adjust to his size but when you started voluntarily pushing your hips back he threw all decorum out of the window. He fucked right into you, his hips at a perfect rhythm as he hits your g-spot more than anyone else ever has. You want to grip the bedsheets, want to hide your face in your arms but with them being tied back there wasn’t much of anything you could do aside from take him. “Seonghwa..ah…feels so good.” He smirks “Good,” he leans forward, one finger pushing past your lips and he encourages you to suck on it “you’re so wet, clenching around me so much.” In the heat of the moment he grabs your hair and pulls, using it as a way to thrust into you harder, the sloppy wet sounds pushed you closer and closer to coming.
You could tell he was close too, but even then his rhythm never got sloppy, you could just tell from the way his cock constantly twitched inside of you. By now the headboard was hitting against the wall and you should be thankful that he doesn’t have any neighbors. Seonghwa grunts, and changes positions, now you’re on top of him in reverse cowgirl. He lays underneath you, cock pushing up as he guides your hips up and then down. He watches as your back flexes, your hands tightening since you couldn’t move them and needed to do something to express how good you were feeling. “Seonghwa, I’m gonna come, I’m so close.” He ups the pace “me too, just hold out a little bit.” You try your best to delay it, but you’re only able to hold out for two minutes before the feeling in your stomach comes back, this was your second orgasm and that did not stop Seonghwa from continuing to fuck into you. It was overstimulating but you wanted to help out so with the rest of your strength you ride him, his fingers digging into your waist, your moans only fueled him and soon enough he was spilling inside of you, eyes clamped shut.
You were both covered in sweat, a little tired but thankfully not exhausted, still you could definitely use a Power Nap. Seonghwa slowly pulls out and your hips raise a little and he bites his lip when he sees his load dipping out of you. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Hwa..” “you’re fine darling.” His arm reaches out to his nightstand where he pulls out a clean rag “I prepared thoroughly for this.” He leans himself off as well as you and carefully unties you, tossing the rope on the floor. Naturally you assumed that now was the part where he wanted to send you home, however he just gets up and walks to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed confused. You hear the shower running and he comes back in “wanna shower together? Or would you prefer it be separate?” You’re surprised to see him offer something that intimate but you don’t decline his offer, a bit shaky you get up off the bed and he helps balance you up “careful now.” You both laugh “you’re the reason I’m walking like this.” Seonghwa guides you to the bathroom
“and I take much pride in that thank you very much.”
685 notes · View notes
j-0ne25 · 2 months
Text
SILENT CRY [RELOADED] — [18+!]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I know, you told me not to thank you but, seriously, thank you for this, Chris,” you say.
“Anything for my princess.”
Tumblr media
🧸 SYNOPSIS: Your father and you have always had a rather complicated relationship and it all just gets worse when he invites you to his very spontaneous wedding, expecting you to attend the event with a boyfriend. Luckily, your best friend is there to help you, playing that role just perfectly while the two of you try to ignore how you truly feel about each other.
🕯️ CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, fake dating au, friends to lovers, angst/fluff/smut, hurt/comfort, demisexual reader, chan is referred to as ‘chris’ and his love language is acts of services and words of affirmation [it shows lol], unfortunately a very personal story lmao, this is a rewrite of the 2022 version, warnings under the cut
💭 WORD COUNT: 12.0K (sorry)
🩹 WARNINGS: explicit sexual content [including slight dom/sub dynamics, semi-protected sex, praise kink, breeding kink, reader gets called princess, baby, good girl and slut], mental health topics revolving around daddy issues, anxiety and adhd, relationship with a huge age gap [neither chan nor reader]
Tumblr media
“God, just because you write a text in an academic language so that no one understands it, this doesn’t make you any smarter, Mr…” Yeji closes the book to read the name of the author, “yet another white male scientist.”
You chuckle. There’s nothing better than a friend who stays up with you to work on a project for one of your classes, sticking together no matter what.
Well, hopefully not literally, considering the cold weather that is currently dominating the city.
It’s nothing new that January is characterised by those insane temperatures, so you’re glad to find yourself in the campus’ library with a functioning radiator. It’s way too cramped and crowded during the day which is why Yeji and you decide to go there in the late evening or during the night. It works just fine for night owls like you.
And besides that—you unfortunately work way better under insane pressure and time limits. At least you think so. But if you’re honest, procrastination only makes you more disciplined because at one point you don’t have a chance anymore and need to finish some tasks. But as long as you don’t fail with it or get out of a troublesome situation, your brain won’t learn from it.
Unfortunately, Yeji is similar to you and there’s another problem that occurs—you work better with your ADHD meds which shouldn’t be taken during the evening, so staying focused without them is another issue to deal with.
But you’re alright. You’ve got great company and a bunch of snacks and an iced coffee with you. You’re gonna survive this, too.
At least you think so, until your phone lights up and shows a message from your father on the screen.
[New message, 22:47]: Hello, darling. It’s a bit spontaneous but my girlfriend and I are getting married next week. I mailed you the invitation some days ago but you’re never checking your inbox as it seems. 😉
Your vision instantly gets blurry.
You can’t differentiate if it’s because your eyes are losing focus or getting filled with tears. Probably both. They switch between the bright screen and the book you're reading but all the words commingle until you dissociate completely, just like the letters in the text about the history of cinemas in front of you.
“Bad news?”
Yeji is your best friend for a reason. She’s got the superpower of knowing something is up before you give her any obvious signs. The girl didn’t even see your phone light up but still caught up on the fact that something isn’t as it should be.
“It’s okay,” you say with a small voice, not wanting to worry her.
“Are you sure, babe?”
You simply nod. You’re aware Yeji doesn’t believe you. But she’s not one that pushes you. She’ll give you some space and will always be here in case you need her.
“I’ll be right back.”
You grab your phone and your water bottle, before you head towards the bathroom that’s just a few aisles away. Walking next to the millions and billions of books helps you ease your mind a little and you’re glad the library is basically asleep in the evening hours.
After opening the door to your designated place, you disappear inside one of the stalls, before you dial his number.
It rings once. It rings twice.
The sound reminds you of whenever he tries to reach you. Your father usually waits for two seconds and when you’re not fast enough to pick up, he blames you for it.
But this time he actually answers.
“Y/N?”
“Hey, dad,” you say. It’s weird calling him that. You changed his contact name to his full name years ago but he still calls you his dear or darling whenever he texts you which happens around once or twice a year.
“Did you get my message?”
“Hm,” you hum. “Very spontaneous, huh?”
You sound so friendly, so polite. It’s a contradiction itself. But for some reason you always want to impress the people that don’t deserve your attention at all. 
It’s not like your father is constantly mean to you. You just don’t connect. You’re too different on every level of life. He’s distant. You’re distant. That’s just how it’s always been, your whole life. He thinks he can make up for that by buying you big presents and sending you money whenever you need it but emotionally? He’s unavailable.
Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a parent. You have to earn that. If you put a human living being into this world, it is your duty to care for them beyond basic survival needs.
It doesn’t feel as if he’s your father. It never has felt like it. You don’t have any connection or trust towards him. But at some point you stopped caring and decided to live on with your life.
There’s just one problem.
The immense pressure he puts you under—considering your job, your academic career and your future family plans—doesn’t make anything easier. It’s as if all the attention you can get from him is when you impress him with your achievements. The achievements that fit his idea of a perfect life.
You realised it wasn’t your fault once you got older. Your father isn’t a family person at all or a social person in general. It’s almost ironic that his mother until this day is closer to your mum—your dad’s ex wife—than to her own son.
And of course his new girlfriend, sorry, fiancée.
There’s a reason your grandparents don’t approve of her and that’s mainly her age.
With your father being a middle aged man, it was surprising to find out he got into a relationship with a woman that is only five years older than you. Whatever midlife crisis caused him to make a decision like that.
It’s obvious she’s marrying him for his money. You met her twice and weren’t that impressed either. Although you would never blame her, your father is the one who’s in the wrong since he’s the older guy that apparently couldn’t get a woman his age. 
“It is,” your father continues and for a second you forget you’re on the phone with him. “You’ll be there, right?”
You want to say no. You really do.
But unfortunately you’ve been raised under toxic standards that keep you from it. You wished you were stronger, more confident when it comes to this but it’s hard unpeeling these layers of high expectations and anxiety if they’re sticking to you like glue.
“Of course,” you say.
The fake excitement in your voice makes you sick. But you can’t turn that off either.
“Just so you know,” he starts again and the sound in his words shift, turn stricter, “there will be lots of important people there. You know how much they value certain standards.”
It is bold of him to say that when he’s the one who is in his late fifties, marrying a twenty-something woman.
“Okay…?” you answer but it is more like a question.
“I’m sure you have a boyfriend, right? You’re what? Twenty-two?”
Twenty-three.
“He’s invited, too. I for sure hope you’re not dating a… woman. You know that I don’t accept that.”
Wow. You definitely do not want to go there.
Why is he bringing this up all of a sudden?
“Sure,” you answer, fake politeness not audible anymore, “I’ll bring my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Y/N, where the fuck are you supposed to get a boyfriend from last minute?
Well, this will be the issue of future-Y/N for now.
A quick ‘goodbye’ from your father’s side follows before you hear the familiar sound of a call ending. You keep standing there, eyes—filled with tears threatening to spill down like a waterfall—hovering over the tiles on the wall and the graffiti drawn on them. 
‘Write more love letters.’
You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Mostly hopeless because you’re anything but successful when it comes to turning those delusional daydreams into reality. Sometimes the idea of something feels much better, as it grants us comfort without the dangers and horrors.
You read further, trying to somewhat calm down. You’re still close to crying but that’s okay. You deserve to let out your emotions, you deserve to be vulnerable.
‘I miss him so much… I should call him,’ is what you read next and a ‘GIRL DON’T JUST DON’T YOU’RE BETTER THAN THAT!!!’ written right underneath.
This is what you mean by girls supporting girls. You’re glad Yeji is with you on campus and knowing she’s close gives you a bit more confidence to walk back to the library soon.
‘You look pretty<3’
Another little boost that you read before adjusting your outfit. You wipe the tears away with some toilet paper, glad about the fact you’re not wearing any makeup around your eyes today.
You take a deep breath, reading another one of the graffities.
‘Affordable housing now!!’
Yeah. Okay. This brings you back to reality completely. You push the door open and clean your hands quickly, before someone else enters the washroom.
“Y/N,” your best friend says. “Are you okay?”
You nod, fighting for dear life to hold back those stupid tears again.
“It’s– m-my dad–“
She instantly pulls you into a hug. Yeji basically knows everything about the background story—your father’s relationship, the reason he left your mother alone with you fifteen years ago, how his parents have a closer connection to their ex-daughter-in-law, the fact that he’s been as emotionally unavailable as someone can be, how he’s a contradiction in itself.
You’ve talked about him with Yeji a lot. Your best friend has always noticed how… indifferent you’ve sounded when sharing those intimate thoughts, when speaking about all the damage that has been done. She can tell it’s a coping mechanism. It’s obvious. So, she won’t push you further but at the same time won’t let you down either.
She’s promised to be here for you and remind you that none of this—none of the absence, the lack of support, the pressure he’s put on you—has ever been your fault. It destroys her, knowing that your father broke your heart before anyone else could ever do.
It explains the trust issues you have towards men, even towards the few in your life that don’t want anything bad. But it’s understandable, when your whole ability of trusting any person ever was demolished all those years ago when he left out of the blue. From one second to another. Just gone. Still here, somehow, calling once in a while, visiting you on your birthday for a couple of hours each year, but not there for you, emotionally speaking.
“Whatever he did this time, I’m here for you,” your friend reassures you. “Also, don’t call him ‘dad’. This is a title someone has to earn first.”
She’s right with that. You wouldn’t know what it takes for someone to be considered a father since no one in your life has ever occupied that role as it should be. But you’re somewhat okay with it now. You learnt how to live with it and you’ve got enough people in your life who truly care for you and love you unconditionally.
So, you nod, holding Yeji closer for a few more seconds before you pull away.
“Let’s go back home, okay? We’ve worked enough for today, my dear,” she offers.
🧸
Despite the trouble of falling asleep yesterday, you’ve managed to get some rest throughout the night. Your dreams were confusing, just like they always are when a lot is going on, when a bunch of stuff is harassing your mind. You just don’t seem to get rid of the struggles of overthinking and hyperfixating on a single issue. Sometimes you care too much—especially about the wrong ever returning problems.
Whenever something like this occupies your thoughts, you’re not able to focus on anything else anymore. As if focusing in general wasn’t already hard enough. You contemplate ditching the meds today, knowing it only helps you actually focus on the right stuff if you’re not distracted by something else. Apart from that, it’s the weekend and you should allow your body a break from the pills like your psychiatrist told you.
The dizziness in your head is already bad enough. Somehow, you still make it to the bathroom and manage to take a shower despite the listlessness trying to take over your body and mind. But a fresh up always helps a lot, whenever you’ve convinced yourself to do so.
Boiling some water to prepare tea helps you ease your mind a little further, until you hear a knock at the front door of your apartment.
Your heart skips a beat. The world stops. You hate that such little things that differ from the routine you created inside your head can overthrow your whole mood. The slightest inconvenience is enough for your mind to crumble, for anxiety to take over your soul.
“Y/N, it’s me.”
The tone of the voice is familiar, fortunately.
Taking a quick glance through the spyhole allows you to find out who the intruder is. You let him in, watching your friend enter your flat with a big brown bag of freshly baked goods.
“I know you hate it when I visit you out of the blue but I d-did text you and you didn’t reply so–“
“Chris, it’s fine,” you reassure him. He shyly nods, before he places the wrapped food on the couch table.
“Need help with anything?”
“No, it’s okay, just have a seat.” Your friend does as he’s told. “What did you buy?”
“A lot,” he confesses, unpacking the still warm, freshly baked goods. “I panicked and didn’t know what you might be craving right now. An avocado bagel and a hummus one—choose whichever one you like. Blueberry muffins. Half-baked double chocolate cookies. Oh, and a lemon and a raspberry tarte.”
Shit. He isn’t making it any easier—this gigantic crush that you have on him, that keeps you distracted at least twenty three hours a day.
“Did you rob the whole bakery, hm?”
He smiles, tilting his head and shrugging his shoulders, “I shouldn’t have gone there while being hungry myself, I was close to buying even more.”
You chuckle. “Tea?”
“Sure,” he says, scooting a bit on the sofa, as he watches you sit down next to him.
You decide to cut the bagels in half so you can try each one of them. After finishing the savory meal, you opt to do the same with the lemon and the raspberry tartes.
Time passes by with no stopping as Chris and you talk about whatever topic comes to your mind. He shares his thoughts on a new show he’s been watching, you tell him about a great album you found on Spotify the other day. It’s comforting. He feels like home. He is your home, if you will.
Although Yeji is your best friend as well, Chris and you have always had a different special connection. You’ve wondered throughout the years if it could be more and deep down you know that there are hidden romantic feelings slumbering inside your heart, ready to be explored.
But then again—you’re so scared. So fucking scared that he’s gonna turn his back against you. Of course, if he was even returning the feelings which you are sure he isn’t. That would be too much of a delusional dream. Just because you read about stories like these in your books, watch dynamics like this in on Netflix or hear similar thoughts as your own when listening to the music you like doesn’t make it realistic, right?
“How is the food?” your best friend awakens you from your spiral of thoughts.
“Great! Thank you so much by the way,” you reply, “how do I deserve this?”
Chris’s face falters, changes within the blink of an eye. “Well… Yeji told me that there is something going on… no details, though.”
Of course. You don’t blame her. You’re glad she didn’t tell Chris what is bothering you exactly although that means that you have to explain things to him now.
“I…”
“Come on, darling,” he starts, giving you a soft smile. “Tell me what’s going on inside your head.”
You nod, taking another sip from your tea that’s gone a bit colder by now. Still, it manages to give you comfort. Just like the blueberry muffin. Just like having Chris with you.
“Maybe… in my room?”
Chris knows that you have certain safe spaces that make it easier for you to talk about your feelings. What he isn’t aware of is the fact that he is your favourite safe space of them all.
The both of you clean up the mess in the kitchen, before you make another tea and disappear in your room with your friend. You two plop down on the soft cushion of your bed, feeling the mattress shift under the added weight.
After looking around and finding a certain someone on top of the duvet, Chris is carefully placing your blue dinosaur plushie against the wall, so that the little guy is sitting upright, almost in a circle with you. Your best friend bops the animal’s nose with his index finger, before he brings his attention back to you.
“So, Y/N. Whenever you’re ready, yeah?”
Oxygen enters your lungs when you take a deep breath. You don’t know why you’re suddenly anxious. It’s Chris sitting in front of you. Your best friend. The person you share all your secrets and darkest thoughts with.
“You won’t… judge?”
You hate that this topic is making you feel so vulnerable.
You don’t want to feel vulnerable. You’ve felt vulnerable your whole fucking life.
“Never, princess,” he encourages you with that tiny pet name. And it’s finally enough for you to gather up enough confidence.
“I received a call from my father.” The look on Chris’s face is unreadable but you continue. “He spontaneously is going to get married this weekend and wants me to attend the wedding…” You pause. “With… with a male partner. Because that old man only cares about his reputation and everything that could affect it.”
God. The hints of homophobia already make your best friend’s blood boil. But the whole situation? Sounds like a fucking circus. He’s a bit overwhelmed, he must admit—although not out loud. He feels sad. He feels angry. He feels furious that you are put in a situation like this.
Chris knows how much social gatherings suck out the little remaining energy that you’ve got left these days.
Shit. You’re both gonna find a solution, he’s sure. But for now, comfort is probably what you need first. Chris can read it in your eyes—the cry for affection, for someone just being there and allowing you to let those emotions burst out of you without holding back.
“Okay.” He says with a low voice. “How do you feel about it?”
Your gaze snaps up to him. His choice of words feel like something a therapist would say but you don’t mind. Weirdly to say, it helps you ground a bit. The question makes you feel seen, makes you feel as if it’s okay to be vulnerable.
“Overwhelmed. I don’t even want to go there at all. But I can’t cancel this. It’s inevitable, unfortunately. I’ll have to go there,” you explain.
It’s true. That’s the thing with your family or with your father—any type of gatherings but especially weddings have to be attended, no discussion. Family first, he always says. Absolutely ironic.
“Hm. I understand,” Chris says. “I’m really sorry you are put in such a situation. You don’t deserve this, Y/N. I hope you know that none of this is your fault, okay?” He witnesses you nod. “I’m always here for you, yeah?”
Your heart skips a beat. In a good way. Chris probably isn’t even aware of what those words do to you but you’re so grateful about them.
He’s always here for you. Your abandonment issues try to tell you otherwise, try to make you believe that this is just a big fat lie but when your eyes find the ones of your best friend again and notice the genuineness in that beautiful dark brown colour, you manage to push the anxiety away. Even if it’s just for a few seconds.
Chris sees you drifting off, watches you zone out and for some reason it enlightens panic in his chest. Maybe it’s the right moment now to share his solution with you.
“Listen, Y/N,” he starts again. “This is how it’s gonna go—I’m free the whole weekend. For the day before the wedding I’ll plan something just for the both of us. Something to look forward to and calm you down.”
Wow. You didn’t expect that. But it brings warmth to your heart. Chris always seems to know what to do and how to handle you.
“That’s kind, thank you,” you reply with a small smile.
“And once you know what colour your dress is going to be, let me know, so I still have enough time to choose a suit in a fitting shade,” he says out of the blue.
“W-What?”
Did he just… suggest going to the wedding with you?
No. That can’t be. You would never ever expect that from him.
“You need a boyfriend for that wedding, right?”
The smirk his face is carrying plays evil games with your heart but you decide to ignore it for now.
“Y-Yeah– but, you don't have to do that… you don’t have to… pretend you… like me, Chris.”
Oh, Y/N. If you only knew.
It's no pretense at all, Chris thinks but doesn’t speak those thoughts out loud.
“No discussion,” he replies with a stern voice. “We’ll go there together, okay?”
You know better than to argue with him. Despite that, you don’t even want to decline. Although rationally speaking, it’s a double ended sword—sure, having Chris with you in a difficult situation like this is a great idea but considering those stupid feelings you have for him it threatens to mess with your head all over again.
However, you give in.
“Okay. Thank you.”
🧸
“Princess, you look wonderful.”
Your best friend’s eyes are filled with stars, almost making him look like a real life version of that one Van Gogh painting. You take a step towards him, as he pulls you into a hug. The gentleman Chris is, he of course picks you up from your apartment.
The little Italian restaurant he chose isn’t that far from the student dormitories since you only need a few minutes to walk there. On top of that, he somehow managed to book the best table—right in front of a huge window, a bit hidden from the other guests.
Butterflies are shooting up inside your stomach, solely thinking about how romantic this whole setting seems to be. But that’s just how your best friend is—no half things under his watch, if he wants to treat you like his princess, he for sure chooses to make you feel like a queen instead.
“Thank you for this, honestly,” you say, before taking another sip of the red wine that Chris has ordered.
“Really no need to thank me, Y/N. You know I’d do anything for you.”
And there they are again. The butterflies. But instead of nervousness, they bring you comfort. Chris has always managed to make you feel this way—utmost safe, anxiety vanishing to ashes in the distance of your head. Finally room for something that isn't worry.
On top of the perfectness of the whole scene, the food tastes immaculate. It sums up this perfect dinner and evening. The two of you get into deep talks like you always do. With Chris you don’t have to pretend. When he asks you how your day was, it’s always because he truly wants to know and doesn’t just say it because it’s expected or some kind of manner.
He makes it so easy to forget about your surroundings. When you’re with your best friend, there’s no feeling that comes close to any second spent with him. Hours turn into minutes, as time always flies by way too fast. And after a long discussion, Chris insists on paying for everything, before he calls the waitress.
“You’re really a good-looking couple. Have a great night, thank you for visiting us,” she says, handing the bill to the man sitting across from you.
Heat instantly rushes up to your face and Chris is glad that you can’t see the red shimmer decorating his pretty face, right here in the dim light of the candles.
“Thank you. It was amazing.”
When the employee is gone and the two of you get up again, Chris helps you into your jacket and you leave the restaurant. You decide to take a little stroll, watching the stars in the sky since the night is already welcoming you. It feels so domestic. Almost too domestic so it plays evil games with your heart that you don’t seem to be able to stop.
Entering a small convenience store, Chris buys two bottles of soju and some snacks, before he—all of a sudden—reaches for your hand. Your fingers stay intertwined with his, while he holds the plastic bag filled with the tasty goods inside the others.
Once you find an empty bench, you sit down and your best friend opens the beverages for you. Deciding to drink straight out of the bottles, you clink your glass to his, listening to the sound that erupts from the collision, before you take a sip. 
“I know, you told me not to thank you but, seriously, thank you for this, Chris,” you say.
“Anything for my princess.”
He is flirting with you, isn’t he? But then again—he kinda does this with anyone. What makes your heart run quicker is a different detail anyway. The sound of him calling you his princess fills a void inside your soul, it manages to make you forget about all the bad things in this world.
“I know you value honesty a lot, Y/N.”
“I do, yeah,” you say, not quite catching what he’s hinting at.
Chris would love to tell you how he really feels. Now just seems to be the perfect setting, right? You’re close together, watching the stars after a romantic dinner. But on top of being too shy, he isn’t sure if, first, you feel comfortable enough to receive such news and, second, if you even return those silly little feelings.
“It’s because of him, you know? He’s the reason why I despise lies so much,” you start again.
Chris gets dragged out of his dissociation, a bit glad that you made the decision where this conversation is leading—which can’t be taken for granted since you rarely manage to make any decisions. Usually, Chris has to do this for you and he is the textbook definition of a libra.
“Your… father?”
Your best friend knows who you are talking about. But by being the first one to mention the person in question, he creates a circle of safety in which the two of you can stay together and allow your thoughts to run free.
“Yeah. He’s a liar,” you say with a chuckle that is rather a scoff. “Through and through. Had cheated on his wife for years, left his child with her alone, pretends to be someone else in front of his business partners, and can't even have a normal conversation with his own parents—the list goes on. He’s the reason I despise dishonesty so fucking much. Every liar reminds me of him.”
It makes a lot of sense now and Chris’s stomach does a weird twist, an uncomfortable sensation bubbling up right there. What if you consider him a liar, too? After all he hasn’t been honest about his true feelings for you for literal years now. He’s always held back—mainly to not scare you off, to not lose this tight bond of friendship that he has with you.
Shut up, this isn’t about you.
The voice inside his head brings him back to where the two of you are. He just trusts his instincts and prays that you will forgive him once he finally gathers up enough strength and confidence to tell you about how his heart truly views you.
Thinking about it, he can’t wait to share his thoughts with you—how much he adores the noises you make while laughing or when something surprises you, how much he values the way you show emotions, in their truest form, never holding back even when people think you’re being too impulsive or stubborn.
Sure, it can get a little exhausting when you interrupt almost every single conversation but Chris knows that you do this to show that you care, that you relate to whatever he says. He knows that your brain tends to work a little differently and he won’t hold you back from being yourself.
Your best friend admires how you keep fighting, how you wait for the light after a storm. Of course, you have conditions that differ a lot from other people—especially talking about college—but he will always remind you that it doesn’t matter how quick you achieve something, what really matters is if you have a good reason for wanting to reach your goals.
And you have. He sensed it in that class you had together in your first semester, the one in which you met because you happened to be late and sat down next to Chris. You’ve had trouble with participating in class since then but when he got into conversations about the arts of movies—being a film student as well—he realised that you are made for this field. You’re creative in a way he’s never seen before, you pour your heart into every art that you make.
As if this isn’t enough, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. God, Chris is head over heels for you and you don’t even seem to notice.
When he sees you fidgeting with the bottle cap, twirling the metal between your fingers, he decides to continue where you left off.
“How about we talk a little about your father, hm?”
Your gaze shoots towards your best friend.
“My father?”
“Hm, I think it would be good to do so. There’s a lot that you haven’t told me and it will help you feel a little more at ease, just talking about it. Also, I’d like to know what to prepare myself for, you know?”
He ends his explanation with a little giggle that grants you comfort.
“Alright… but where do I start?”
Chris scoots a little closer, watching the surprised expression on your face but, nevertheless, he decides to keep going. A hand carefully reaches towards your face, softly brushing your cheek.
“You’re safe with me, okay?”
You nod, unable to speak a word.
“You wanna tell me… just in general how you feel about him?”
You know that it’s a good idea to share these things with your best friend. No matter how hard it is. But in the end it’ll help you and you’ll feel more prepared for the wedding day tomorrow.
“Maybe feel is the wrong word,” you start. “It’s like I don’t feel anything for him. He could just… not be there and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
Your heart hurts thinking about it. Of course, you can’t miss a feeling you’ve never experienced—after all, he’s always been like that even when your mother and him were still together. However, you feel a tear run down your cheek whenever you see a father with his daughter together in public, how they get along, how he cares for her like any parent should.
Your best friend reaches for your fingers, when he observes you fall into dissociation and he manages to bring you back to the present.
“I understand,” Chris says, squeezing your hand tight. It gives you enough courage to go further.
“I… I am honest, I don’t even hate him. I tried to. I desperately tried to hate him all these years. But the connection is so distant that this doesn’t even work. Hate is a feeling, after all.”
You chuckle, or maybe it’s rather a scoff. Watching the stars in the distance, you try to bring your whole focus to the way Chris’s skin is pressed against your own, how his bigger hand feels wrapped around your smaller one, how he makes you feel safe without doing much.
“I think we don’t talk enough about how abandonment traumatises us, how absence of an important figure in growing lives can destroy so much,” your best friend adds. And he’s right. The lack of something can have a huge impact on a child, too.
But for you—at least you thought so when growing up—you’ve never missed anything. Your mum has always been an angel, trying her best, earning the money to keep you fed, encouraging you to follow your dreams. You didn’t have much during your younger days, financially speaking, but you did receive a lot of love from your present parent and from other close relatives.
And having great friends like Yeji and Chris filled the space that was once reserved for someone else.
“My mother has always been both mum and dad to me,” you explain. “She was the one to help me understand math homeworks. She was the one who carried my heavy suitcases when I came back from a class trip. She was the one to build up furniture and fix electricity. And she will be the one to escort me down the aisle one day.” 
Chris feels his heart getting all warm when he listens to your soft words. He’s glad your family managed to make the best out of this situation that you had been put into. He desperately hopes when your mum will escort you down the aisle someday that it’ll be because you’re marrying Chris.
“I’m glad to hear that, Y/N,” he adds and gives you a gentle smile.
“Can I… continue?”
The thoughts are running free, begging to be let out. You feel safe enough around your friend to tell him more.
“Of course, darling.”
You take a deep breath.
“I’ve been trying to gain his attention by doing everything to impress him,” you say, your words becoming a bit smaller, “but the only thing that has ever impressed him was when I did well academically. This shaped me for life, unfortunately. Especially, since I’ve struggled in school and college because of my ADHD—so this has been an ideal that I just can’t seem to live up to.”
Your best friend scoots closer, using his other hand to take your own now, so he’s able to wrap his free arm around your figure. He pulls you towards him by the waist—it’s gotten a little colder, after all. At least that’s the excuse inside his head.
But you don’t mind at all. Chris manages to make you feel a bit more confident—in what you’re sharing with him, in yourself. Just in general.
“And you don’t have to live up to that. Someone who truly loves you wouldn’t be like this,” he says.
He’s right. Deep down you know this. However, there’s a reason why you don’t seem to be able to follow his advice.
“But I have this urge… like, my younger self desperately holds onto the idea of… of hearing that her father is proud of her.”
Even in the darkest night, only a few street lights helping Chris to see your full face, he knows that you’re on the verge of tears.
“Y/N, listen. What I’m gonna say will sound easier than it’s done but you know that I’m always honest with you.” Almost always. “But you don’t have to impress him, you don’t have to even be liked by him because—you don’t like him, either. The only one’s thoughts about you that matter are those of a friend. And of course, your thoughts about yourself.”
You snicker, “Yeah, regarding that… My insecurities have been eating me alive lately.”
Lately? More like forever. But you don't want to sound even more hopeless than you already are. You hate being vulnerable, it makes you feel so small and weak like you had always felt when you were a child.
“I’m here,” Chris reassures you. “And whenever your brain tells you to not love yourself, I will be here to remind you of it, okay?”
For some reason that’s all it takes for you to start crying. Your head lands on his shoulder, as Chris softly strokes your back, keeping you in his hold.
“But… It makes me feel so weak. I hate being weak.”
The sniffles fill your surroundings, but your best friend pulls you closer, never letting go of you.
“You are allowed to be vulnerable, Y/N. It’s what makes us human. Showing weakness takes a lot of strength,” he whispers into your ear.
“Maybe you’re right, yeah.”
The irony that Chris can’t allow himself to be vulnerable either, right? How much he wishes to tell you how he truly feels about you. But he can’t be selfish right now. This isn’t the right time, this isn’t the right place. Maybe he will be able to gather up all the courage after the wedding.
🧸
Chris helps you out of the cab, making sure that your pretty dress doesn’t get damaged in the process. You look utterly beautiful—the purple shade suits you perfectly, matching with your best friend’s suit and tie. The choice of colour will probably be enough to piss off your father and all these businessmen but you woke up this morning with the sudden urge to turn this into a provocative event.
The building—almost a castle—that your father chose is stunning, making you feel like a real life princess in this outfit. You’re greeted by a stunning front yard, a field of flowers filling your vision, some types you have never seen before in your life.
Suddenly, your best friend—or, well, partner for the day—reaches for your hand when he notices how you observe the plants, how they manage to put a smile on your face.
“Let’s take a closer look, yeah? We’ve still got time.”
You nod, allowing him to lead the way, as you approach the beautiful flowers. For some reason, they help you calm down a little as silly as it sounds. The varierty of colours is insane—the whole spectrum of the rainbow united.
Unexpectedly, Chris squats down, his hand wandering towards one of the purple ones—you don’t even know what type it is—and decides to rip it out of the ground. You call out his name but all he does is chuckle, looking up at you before he stands upright again.
“It’s the exact same shade as your dress. I just thought it would suit you, princess.”
He’s flirting with you again, isn’t he? You can’t even tell at this point. Not if your heart is beating out of your chest, threatening to explode.
“Thank you,” you say, reaching for the flower.
“It’s a bellflower,” he informs you, leaving out that it symbolises everlasting love.
Chris helps you to stick it onto your dress, the loop right under your collarbone working quite well for that.
“Shit, when I thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful you need to prove me wrong, huh?”
You look at him with wide eyes, unsure how to react—since you’re not able to react at all as it seems.
“Shall we get inside?”
All you do is nod, before Chris takes your hand and guides the two of you into the building. Most guests seem to be already here. Your father and his fiancée—now wife—decided to have the ceremony in private, just inviting their guests to the party after.
Once you’re inside, you realise that it’s just as luxurious here. Marble floor, ornaments decorating the expensive furniture with pure gold, velvety chairs and couches—this whole interior screams pretentious.
Chris and you soon find your designated seats, as you sink down right there. You’re surrounded by a bunch of younger people, who you have never seen before. You’ve expected your father to have you sit together with your cousins but taking a quick look around it doesn’t seem as if any of them have been invited. 
You don’t even seem to find your father and his wife, but who does find you a little later are his parents. Getting up, you walk towards your grandma and Chris gets the hint, when he approaches them too.
“Y/N, you look beautiful,” she says, taking a closer look at your outfit. Purple has always been her favourite colour too and usually she likes dresses that are nothing ordinary.
“Thank you so much, nana.”
She lets go of you again, spotting the man next to you.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Chris. Her boyfriend.” Your best friend is ready to shake your grandmother’s hand but she’s quicker to pull him into a hug, right from the start being all informal with him.
Your grandpa greets you, too, before he approaches Chris. To your surprise, your grandfather acts the same way his wife did, embracing your boyfriend. Since he’s always been a bit more conservative, you didn’t expect it. On top of that, he’s already overwhelmed by all the different noises inside—just like you—so you appreciate that he’s trying his best. Your grandparents seem to like Chris from the start, which makes you wonder again if this is meant to be more.
When you all notice your father entering the huge room, your grandparents walk back to their seats, linking their arms as they make their way back.
You catch a glimpse of the bride now—a cinderella-like white dress is hugging her figure. The blonde hair is put up, little details of rhinestones are reflecting the lights inside the room, becoming all glittering.
The two of you sit down again, before your father begins his speech.
“Thank you all for being here with us on this special day. We appreciate it a lot and don’t even want to talk too much.” He reaches for his glass filled with champagne and all the guests do the same. “Cheers to love.”
You’re glad you haven’t started drinking yet because regarding the scoff you just let out this could have ended very embarrassingly. Still, you take a small sip from your beverage.
During the whole time, Chris makes sure to hold your hand whenever you seem to get a little uneasy. The food is good, though, so you decide to at least appreciate that. In the back of your head, you know that at some point of the evening you will have to have a conversation with your father.
So, once dinner is over and you’ve gathered up enough courage, Chris seems to read your mind and grabs your hand, before you get up. You both slowly walk towards where the freshly wed couple is sitting, your father currently being occupied in a conversation with some of his business partners.
However, his wife notices and greets you, for some reason being not so impressed by your’s and your best friend’s outfits. But you decide to ignore her glances, as your father turns around to pull you into a quick and cold hug.
Your boyfriend takes a step towards the man, as he speaks, “I’m Chris. Thank you for the invitation. We wish you all the best, congrats.”
The pretentious smile on your fathers face is just as fake as anything he does. All while Chris is doing his very best to hide his true emotions. Especially after the long talk yesterday but also since he realises how much the impact of your own father has always been on your mental health and self-confidence, he has to gather up lots of strength to keep holding back.
“So, last semester finally? When will you be done studying?”
Of course. Of fucking course. No how are you, no how have you been. This is all he’s ever cared about. Your academic achievements and that he has to pay for you. How about not putting an innocent child in this world when their basic needs already overwhelm him? Well, maybe it’s because he has to spend all his money on another twenty-something year old now.
The thought makes you nauseous. So, you push it aside and reach for your best friend’s hand instead. He finds your palm sweaty, realising that anxiety is taking over you again. With a quick glance he reassures you that everything’s fine. You agreed before getting here that you can ask him to bring you home at any time.
Still, you don’t want him to be disappointed. Chris came all the way here with you, sacrificing his whole weekend for your little family drama. However, he would never be disappointed in you, ever. 
“Yeah. Sure,” you tell your father.
“Sure?”
He looks at you confused since your reply doesn’t quite match his question.
“I don’t know,” you continue, voice sounding a little broken. “I’ve had some trouble with the classes I took this semester, so, possibly I’ll need another year in case I fail the exams,” you gulp, directing your gaze away from him.
But that's when the monologue starts. Why go to university at all when you have your father, another middle-aged privileged man, that’s lecturing you about all your oh so bad life decisions, too?
“When I was your age I had already had my degree, you know? But that’s your generation, right? You’re all lazy and don’t want to work anymore—majoring in film or gender studies or God knows what and then don’t even get a job.”
Besides the fact that he doesn’t struggle the same way you do caused by your ADHD and a bunch of other mental issues, your father has never told you that he didn’t work while studying in college back then, thirty years ago. Whereas you work part time, have been doing so since highschool. The double standards are insane—but what do you expect from a liar and hypocrite like him, right?
Your father looks at your friend now, “You’re doing film too, Chris?”
“Yeah, film minor and economics major,” he explains, his voice sounding stern, trying to hide the annoyance.
“Well, at least something I guess,” your father says, shrugging his shoulders.
If there’s something he’s good at, it’s provoking for no reason. And you’ve had enough. Your emotions are overflowing you—not just from the setting tonight itself, maybe all the stress adds to it, perhaps you not taking your meds today makes it harder to focus. It’s a miracle that you haven’t interrupted your father yet.
“What’s your fucking problem?”
His eyes widen, “Don’t you dare to talk back to me with that language.”
You scoff, getting a bit closer. Your heart is pounding out of your chest but you have to get this out.
“If you don’t like it when I talk back to you, why did you teach me how to speak then, huh?” You look around, watching his surprised face, before you add, “Oh no, my bad. That was mum. Since you’ve never been there for me anyway.”
He’s truly at a loss for words. He wants to say something but no sound comes out. Who would have thought this man would be speechless one day?
Not caring about any consequences anymore, you reach for Chris’s hand, looking up at him, “Let’s go. We’ve spent enough time here. Thanks again for the invitation and… have a nice evening.”
🧸 
The ride home with the cab is very silent but you appreciate it. Your best friend has the palm of his hand placed on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh a little whenever he sees that nervous expression on you. But little does he know that your heart is bursting out of you because he’s so close.
Now that the wedding is over and his job is done playing your boyfriend—what will this evolve to? Will you, maybe one day, be able to tell him how you truly feel? Or will the pain just go on, will he continue dating other people—although nothing serious ever happens—and you’re just there watching?
It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking hot in his attire. The suit and tie is something that always has your knees go weak but the fact he’s dressed up like that for you, lets delusion enter your mind. An idea is occupying your mind—ripping layer after layer off his body, having him bare naked all over you, his tongue grazing over your skin, his lips attached to yours, as he’s touching you, pleasuring you until you’re both ready for him to finally slide in. God. You’re a lost cause and the reason is Christopher Bahng.
On top of that, you really need to get laid. It’s been some time, some years since you’ve been intimate with another person. You don’t know why but you only seem to be able to get close with someone that you have a strong emotional connection with and, unfortunately, the only person that this applies to is your best friend.
But you’re dragged out of your thoughts when the cab comes to a halt. Your friend gets out first, of course, to be the gentleman he’s always been. He walks around and opens the door for you, helping you again with your dress.
Chris is already on his way to get his car keys since he parked the vehicle in front of your building this afternoon. However, you hesitate—your hand circles around his wrist, making him stop in his tracks. Your best friend turns around, looking at you, a little confused.
“Can you… come upstairs for a bit? I don’t want to be alone right now,” you tell him. Your best friend wasn’t gonna leave you like this and call it a night. He just searched for his keys to get some stuff from his trunk—more comfortable clothes and… other things.
So, he nods, before you let go of him but Chris is fast to reach out again. His fingers get entangled with your own, while you walk towards the front door. You stay like this the whole time, making opening the door a little more complicated than it should be but he helps you.
Once you’ve climbed up all the stairs, you get through the entrance of your student apartment. You take off your shoes, before you walk to the kitchenette and bring two glasses that you fill with tap water. Handing one to him, he tells you to sit down on the couch with you.
You do as you’re told, taking a sip from your cold beverage. It helps you calm down a little. The aftermath of this evening is still lingering in your head and Chris’s presence unfortunately adds to your nervous state. Usually, having him around brings you calmness and comfort and this still applies. However, with the questions running around, making you wonder what happens next, you can’t bring your focus to breathe a little slower.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” Chris says all of a sudden.
You look at him confused, not having expected him to say this, “What?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, reaching for your glass of water. He carefully puts it on the table next to you, before he takes your hand and places his own on it. “For going there with me, for staying so long and for talking back at him when he spilled such bullshit.”
Your eyebrows rise up a little. “You… you think so?”
Chris is stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, keeping his gaze fixated right there. Oh, how he wishes he could do this forever—be close to you, take care of you, call you his. Hopefully, he’ll have the courage soon to tell you all this.
“Of course, Y/N,” he continues. “I’m always proud of you, you know? You’re so… perfect. Literally. You’re so kind. You’re so creative, it’s insane. The ideas you have when writing the stories for our classes or what colours to use during editing—it gives me goosebumps which is crazy since we’re talking about colours.”
You giggle. You seriously can’t believe he feels like this about you. Could this be more? Probably not. He definitely only says this in a platonic way.
“I mean it. Truly,” he reassures you. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m so glad you were late that day and were forced to sit next to me in our class together.”
Tears are pricking on your lower lash line and for a second in the dim lights of your living room, it seems as if Chris is currently experiencing the same.
“I’m glad too, Chris,” you tell him.
“You were so brave today, princess, so fucking brave.” His voice is barely a whisper right now, his eyes are locked with your own and if you paid a little more attention you’d realise how nervous he is right now.
He gets a little more confident, his words increasing their volume when he starts again, “I think it’s my turn now to be brave, hm?”
You tilt your head, not quite catching what he’s referring to.
“What do you mean?”
Chris takes another deep breath.
“Fuck—okay, I truly hope this won’t destroy anything between us so if it’ll make you uncomfortable in any way just forget what I am about to say but–“
“I don’t understand,” you interrupt him.
Still, he decides to continue, “I’m… I catch myself quite frequently thinking of you. Thinking of you as more than a friend. And tonight just proved that this is what I want to be. Your boyfriend, by your side, forever, eventually your husband, if you let me.”
Your face falls. The earth stops. Nothing makes any sense anymore. For once, the odds are in your favour. You’ve had this exact same dream so many times you’ve lost count by now.
Usually, you wake up at this exact point.
You wait. You wait more.
But you soon grasp that this is in fact reality.
“Are you for fucking real?”
You wished you could have worded it better but there’s no structure, just pure chaos inside your head right now. Nothing uncommon per se, but a lot more intense right now.
“Y-Yeah,” Chris lets out, all shyly, “I’d never joke about something l-like that.”
Deciding to get up now, you start walking around in your living room. Your hands are attached to your head, a gesture to show how overwhelmed you are right now—positively of course.
“This is insane,” you pant. “Is this a dream? Can you wake me up?”
Chris hesitantly gets up, unsure how to categorise the fact you’re hyperventilating a little right now. He approaches you, getting closer.
“Now I’m the one who can’t quite follow…”
You grab his face, pulling him towards you, “I like you too, a lot. No, screw that. I’m in love with you.”
He scoffs, “I’m in love with you, too.”
Time stands still another time when Chris decides he’s tired of waiting and smashes his lips into yours. And it feels so good, there aren’t any words in any language of this world that would do this moment justice. You allow the sensation to take over you, allow him to keep his mouth pressed against yours until you part your lips and allow his tongue entrance.
How can a kiss be soft and passionate at the same time? You can’t compare this to anyone else. Well, it’s not like you have a lot of experience quantity wise but even in a thousand years, this kiss will be your favourite.
On top of that, you can’t believe that it took the both of you so fucking long to realise that you’re actually on the same page. This is truly insane. Chris—your best friend, your anchor, your longtime crush—feels the same about you.
“God, we’re such idiots,” you giggle in between kisses.
“Hm, we are,” he replies. “But I think it was just the universe letting us wait for when the time is right.”
One would expect that the kissing would have stopped by now but you both just keep going, as if you’re each other’s oxygen, unable to breathe alone. Kissing him just feels right. Everything feels right. How his plump lips are pressed against your own, how he grabs you by the waist to pull you closer, how a sweet little whimper spills from his lips.
Faster than you’re able to grasp it, you’re stumbling towards your bedroom door. Chris reaches for the knob, before you get inside. You walk further and further but right before your calves hit the frame of your bed, the man in front of you stops.
Chris knows that you need a special connection with someone in order to sleep with them. You’ve talked quite freely about anything sex related, your blood always boiling to the highest temperature possible whenever he mentioned that he went on a date. He’s never gotten any far with other people—after all, no one manages to live up to you.
So, he wants to make sure that everything is perfect. He needs to know that you’re totally sure about this since you don’t have sex with anyone.
“Are you okay with us going further, princess?”
You nod, giving him a sweet smile. Chris brings his fingers to your face, carefully grazing over your lower lip with his thumb.
“Words, baby. Words. Talk to me.”
Your knees are already getting weak. You’ve always suspected Chris to be on the dominant side but with the softness sprinkled into it, this is just perfect. Perfect for you to basically faint.
“I want this. So, so much,” you confess, getting a little shy.
In the meantime, your best friend’s eyes darken, before he pulls you towards him for another heated kiss. He’s getting even more passionate—if that’s possible—his hands placed right on your hips, while your head starts spinning, finally in a good way for once.
Chris makes you walk a little backwards until the way is blocked by your bed. With a small nudge, you land on your back, waiting for your best friend to devour you. He does exactly that, now towering above you and not believing what his own eyes are witnessing.
He’s dreamt about this so many times he’s lost count—you underneath him, moaning for more, begging to be touched, pleasured, corrupted. That’s what he thinks about on a daily basis if he’s honest. And finally he’s got this whole scenario in reality, too.
His lips land on your neck, making their way down to your collarbones. Chris feels so warm against you, heating you up from inside and outside. The little kisses add to it—they have you craving for more, they have you absolutely lose your mind because of the hungry man hovering above you.
He follows the pathway he’s created in his head, wandering south before Chris catches a glimpse of the little flower that is still attached to the purple fabric. Carefully, he frees it from the loop and places it on your nightstand table before he brings his whole attention back to you.
“Chris, please,” he hears you whine underneath him.
“Please what, pretty?”
A pout finds your face, as you grab him by the collar of his button up shirt, “Kiss me, touch me, do whatever you want with me.”
God, you’re desperate. So fucking desperate and all just for him. Chris can’t believe this is real, can’t believe that you are real.
He uses this as an invitation to go further, helping you sit upright for a second so he can get rid of the dress that’s still hugging your figure. Sure, you look absolutely stunning in it but he knows that you’ll look even better with no material hiding your beauty.
And his assumptions turn out to be true, once only your lingerie is left to cover your body. Of course, you chose a fitting one—a similar shade to your dress.
“Fuck… you’re so unbelievably beautiful,” Chris says, absolutely unable to hold back. The words don’t even do you justice in the slightest. Even ‘perfect’ wouldn’t be perfect enough.
He goes right back to business, those kisses erupting on your skin again when his plump lips collide with your neck. Traveling down, he simultaneously helps you out of your bra, observing the stunning view of your bare breasts. Chris licks his lips, before he brings his mouth to one of them—tongue circling around the nub, his fingers do the same with the other one.
Lust erupts from your center, arousal dripping right into your underwear. He hasn’t even done much yet and you’re already on the verge of going absolutely insane. This is the effect he has on you. You’ve even forgotten that you tend to be rather shy when it comes to undressing but Chris makes you feel like the only person on this planet, like a goddess, you could say.
The man in question wanders further down, passing your stomach and belly button, before he stops right and the hem of your panties.
“Princess?”
You bring your gaze towards him when he calls you, “Y-Yeah?”
“Say the word and I’m yours,” he chuckles.
God, that brat. Of course he wants you to beg for more. You’ve known this was gonna end like this from the start. Chris seems to enjoy this a little too much—you can tell by the smirk and if this isn’t enough evidence, you soon will find out how hard he already is only because of you. His cock is neglected inside those tight trousers but it’s about you first.
He takes another look at you, waiting for you to speak.
So, you do exactly that when you say, “Please, touch me, make me feel good.”
That’s all he needs to bring his hand between your legs which you part for him oh so obediently. He grazes over the drenched fabric, ready to ruin you—similar to the current state of your laces. He chuckles to himself, before he scoots further down until his face is right between your thighs, nose almost colliding with your covered pussy.
He licks a long stripe over the material, tasting your essences that are trickling through your underwear. You let out a moan, your hand reaching for his head, grabbing a few curls to play with them.
Chris is ready now to slide down the remaining fabric, leaving you fully naked for him. As if you’re on autopilot, you part your legs even further, giving him better access.
All he does is chuckle, before he adds, “Look at you—spread out like this, just for me, hm?”
Fuck. His voice has dropped so low, you could basically cum just at the sound of it.
“Only for you, Chris,” you reassure him.
He’s convinced he’s gonna see stars soon if you keep going like that. To push himself even more into his demise, he continues then—spreading your pussy lips apart, he gives his tongue room to collide with your clit. Chris immediately starts drawing circles on it, watching your eyes roll back to your skull when he observes you through his lashes.
“Fuck– yes,” you already let out, although he’s just started.
He continues making out with your sensitive nub, until you feel a string of his saliva landing right above your entrance. Bringing two fingers right there, he carefully pushes one of them inside, instantly feeling how tight you are. After all, it’s been some years, right?
However, he keeps going when he hears those desperate pleas that spill from your lips, as he adds another digit and starts thrusting them into you. Fuck, if his fingers already feel that good you can’t even imagine what the real deal will be like. What’s for sure is that Chris will need to prepare you a little more so you’ll be able to take his cock.
And you’re already getting close. Which isn’t surprising when he finds that velvety spot inside you, keeping his tongue attached to your clit at all times. He earns cute little moans and whimpers from you, before your legs start shaking and that unholy feeling takes over you. Clenching around his fingers, he helps you ride out your high.
Chris pulls his fingers out of your heat a little while later, licking them clean, as a grunt escapes his mouth.
You’re fast to sit somewhat upright again—head once again dizzy—and grab him by the collar like you did earlier. Your lips crash into his, while you hastily open each button of his shirt. The tie lands somewhere on the floor where your other clothes must be but neither of you care about anything like that right now.
Chris gets up from the bed, pulling you towards the end of the mattress with him, before he starts fumbling with his belt. You can see the tent quite well, his cock pressing against the tight fabric, begging to be freed.
That’s what you do, opening the button and sliding down the zipper until Chris slips out of the dark trousers. Only in his boxers now, his hand reaches towards you face—two fingers are under your chin, tilting your head upwards so that you’re looking at him.
You reach for the hem of his underwear, before you pull that remaining fabric down too. Your eyes widen, when you catch a glimpse of his hard erection. He definitely has the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—well, there weren’t that many but still—a little above average, the tip leaking precum.
Out of reflex, your mouth lands on his lower stomach, while your hand circles around his length.
But Chris needs more than this. He knows he unfortunately won’t be able to hold back any much longer and he doesn’t want to waste even a single drop of his cum before he has been inside of your tight cunt.
“Next time, yeah?”
Heat rises up to your face at the thought of being with him like this for the rest of your life. So, you nod, while you allow Chris to place you on the bed again. Your back hits the mattress, as you part your legs for him.
Right in that moment, your best friend remembers something quite important.
“I d-don’t have a condom with me, Y/N. Left them in the car, sorry,” Chris says.
He has to hide a grin, thinking about the fact that he’s been hoping for exactly this to happen, which is why he brought them with him in the first place—what a pity they aren’t here now.
However, you reassure him with a smile, when you reply, “That’s fine for me. You know that I’m on the pill.”
Chris knows exactly what contraceptives you take, since he usually makes sure to remind you of taking your meds, knowing you sometimes don’t—thanks to your forgetful nature.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I trust you,” you say with a stern voice.
He catches your lips in yet another heated kiss, fireworks rushing through your veins once more.
You pull back all suddenly, when a thought crosses your mind.
“It’s been some time… some years, to be honest, since I… you know,” you confess.
Chris gives you a smile, “Okay. No worries. I’ll be gentle, I promise. We’ll go slow, yeah?”
You nod and tell him to keep going. Chris circles a hand around his length, stroking himself a few times before he gets closer—brushing over your clit with his leaking tip, he watches the way you’re already arching your back, ready to have him inside of you.
Time stands still when he slowly pushes the first few centimetres into your wetness, observing you squirm underneath him.
“You okay, princess?” he asks, a little worried.
“Y-Yeah, just need some time,” you reassure him now.
Once you’re adjusted to his size, you tell him to keep going.
Chris starts with rather slow movements, making sure you’re comfortable at all times, when he’s pleasuring you so perfectly. Moans are soon filling the room, as his name spills from your lips one too many times. The two of you know that neither of you might last that long but then you’ll just go for another round later, right?
“Fuck– you’re so big,” you let out, clenching around his cock.
Your best friend has your legs positioned over his shoulders by now—the angle helps him to pound even deeper into you and brush that spot again. You feel your brain shut off, all the thoughts and anxieties running far away, when Chris has you like this, when he takes care of your body like you’ve deserved all this time.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” he reassures you with a whisper. “I know you can take me. I know you can be a good girl for me, yeah?”
Oh, fuck. Although your brain has turned into mush, these few little words still manage to make your mind go absolutely crazy. You clench around him another time, your mouth parted, as you stare up at him.
“Yeah, just like that,” he praises you. “Such a good girl, such a slut for my cock, hm?”
You tighten once again when you listen to his words, getting even closer to that sweet relief.
“S-So… you’re so good at this, Chris.”
He feels himself twitch inside of you, while your name leaves his lips. Who would have thought that his praise kink is just as severe as yours?
Chris decides to bring one of his hands near to where your bodies meet. His fingers are back on your clit, just like his tongue was earlier, as he starts playing with you.
It’s inevitable. You can’t hold back any longer. A pathetic little ‘please’ leaves your lips before you hear Chris chuckle while he adds a ‘go on’ and ‘be a good girl’.
That’s all it takes for you to reach your second orgasm of the night, as you cum all over his cock. You cry out his name like a mantra and Chris realises that this is the sweetest melody his ears have ever witnessed. You look so utterly beautiful like this. 
He feels himself getting closer too, which isn’t surprising when you’re tightening around him like that. There’s a thought on his mind that he wants to let free, a dark desire that’s burning on the tip of his tongue.
So, he decides to just speak it out loud, “Can I cum inside of you, hm? Need to breed you and pump you full of my seeds, baby.”
Fuck. He’s gonna be the death of you.
“Chris– please–“ is all that makes it past your lips.
The idea of his cum seeping into your tight hole, running out of you and down your thighs is an image that has been appearing in your dreams or during lonely nights way too often.
“Beg a little more, come on. Be a good girl for me,” he encourages you, ignoring the fact that he won’t last any longer.
“Baby, please,” you continue, “I need you so much… please fill me up with your cum, I’d look so pretty, wouldn’t I?”
Chris rolls his eyes to the back of his head, as he picks up his pace, “Shit– you’re something else, princess.”
Shortly after, he does exactly what you’ve been asking him—hot white spurts paint your walls, fill you up, when he’s reaching his climax. His breathing is heavy and so is yours when he comes to a halt.
Your eyes lock with his, before you begin to giggle. Chris places a gentle kiss on your forehead, staying inside of you.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispers.
“I love you too… so much.”
Tumblr media
🤍 AUTHOR’S NOTE: to anyone who relates to the father’s and reader’s relationship a bit too much—please know that you are so so loved and deserve all the best, nothing of this is your fault and I love you. Thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Maybe it could bring you a little comfort—it did for me, while writing the story. Please consider leaving a comment and reblog if that’s the case! You can also share your kind feedback with me via asks or DMs! It’s what keeps us authors going, really. Have a great day and thank you for being here! xx
© j-0ne25 2022/2024 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
845 notes · View notes
ellabscrush · 19 days
Text
— play with my pussy, not my heart.
a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.
Tumblr media
𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!
sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”
she caresses your face and pecked your lips.
nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.
i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?
“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.
“that’s my best girl.”
besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.
three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.
nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.
abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.
“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.
“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”
nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”
you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.
sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.
“fuck me..” you muttered.
“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.
you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.
“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.
three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.
abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”
“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.
“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’
you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.
“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”
you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.
she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.
“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.
“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled
abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”
“trying?” you looked up.
the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”
she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.
abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”
knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!
“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”
.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.
the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.
“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”
you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”
she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.
your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”
the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.
“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”
“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.
her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.
you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.
you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.
“faster,” you demanded.
she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.
“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”
“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”
abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.
the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.
maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?
“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.
“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.
abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.
you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.
“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”
abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.
“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”
her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.
“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”
“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.
an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.
“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.
“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”
“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.
you know how that goes..
once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.
“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”
abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.
“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.
of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.
well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
793 notes · View notes
inzaynety · 1 month
Text
surprise? ⤫
➢ summary: no one expected yuuta to have a girlfriend
➢ content: yuuta x fem!reader; 2535 words; fluff; yuuta’s ability to pull girls is questioned 😪; sukuna hitting on you too ig
➢ notes: this is a rewrite from my old blog and it’s pretty refreshing to do one ngl, hopefully this reads a little better
Tumblr media
Nobara sits leisurely on the lounge room’s couch with her fellow first years, watching as the second years huddle over a puzzle one had dug up from underneath their bed. At first she was staring into nothing thinking about when her next shopping trip would be and how she would drag the other two to carry her bags (they would go anyway, they had no choice when it came to her), but somehow her eyes land on the one upperclassman she doesn’t know all that much about. 
Sure, she’s spent time with Toge, Panda, and of course Maki, but she had only known Yuuta for a few weeks after his return to Tokyo Jujutsu High. Nobara likes to watch and observe people, and there was something about him that sort of bugged her. 
The reason? No clue.
“Careful. Think too hard and you’ll get hurt,” Megumi comments while Itadori snickers, Nobara glaring at the both of them without missing a beat.
“Shut up. I was wondering if you guys think Okkotsu-senpai’s attractive.” The two boys look at her and then each other in confusion. She realizes that they’re probably not the best people to ask, their obvious and painful pining in the way of everything else, but objectively speaking she would try to gauge Okkotsu’s status. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, quite easy on the eyes, but he was a little awkward.
“Why’re you thinking about that?” Itadori’s tone isn’t condescending–just questioning. He too had some reservations about the upperclassman, considering their first meeting to not be so ideal. His complete 180 in personality did cause a bit of whiplash.
“Not sure, I mean, look at him.” The three direct their eyes to the special grade and he’s sitting in the middle of the others as they argue over the missing pieces that happened to disappear when nearing the end of the puzzle. He isn’t saying anything and only laughing along as his friends are exasperated with each other. His flustered face also seems to be his brand as that’s all Nobara’s been seeing. 
Heck, the other day they bumped into each other and he was stuttering out apologies when they barely brushed shoulders. A single paper from her arms fell on the floor from the wind let in by the open window. 
“He has no game. I’m betting on that right now.”
“Okay, I bet he does!” Itadori always bet on the opposite.
“You’re gonna lose, loser!”
“Nuh-uh, bigger loser!”
As Nobara and Itadori start their bickering yet again, Fushiguro thinks back to his morning. He could have slept in.
The first and second years are near the track continuing their training to finish off the day, but they got distracted and now Toge and Itadori were being swung in a circle by Panda.
“Maki-sannn,” Nobara drawls, leaning on the upperclassman as they sit on the steps watching the others. Maki hums in acknowledgement. “Do you know if Okkotsu-senpai has a girlfriend?” The older girl snorts and doesn’t hide her disbelief at her question.
“Of course not. Have you seen the guy?”
“But I thought Inumaki-senpai said you thought he was–”
“That was a stupid question. He asked a stupid question.”
Nobara leaves it at that and now it has Maki thinking about it.
Maki doesn’t find herself walking around the school that often if not for entering and exiting the school with Toge and Panda, or heading towards the track for training. But the latter didn’t need to go as far as the front gates. Honestly, it was a nice day and it would have been a waste to sit around inside even if it were just a few minutes. 
Though, she wasn’t expecting to see anyone else.
Gojo would have told them if a representative of the higher ups, or the higher ups themselves, would show up just so he could inform them to say Gojo-sensei’s not here or Sensei said to leave him alone. He found childish pride in the fact that his students could be the ones to stop those old geezers from interfering with his daily life, but it was at their expense so it usually ends with He’s just outside the door or Sensei! Get out from under the table!
But you didn’t look like them. If anything, Maki could deduce you were probably around her age but not before her eyes almost bulged out of her sockets upon registering who exactly it was she was looking at. While she didn’t know who you were, she didn’t mind it at that exact moment. One for a second though. 
Your expression was cold and stoic, not unlike their very own Fushiguro, but when your eyes meet hers, it’s replaced with a youthful cheerfulness that Maki swore she needed to cover her eyes from the brightness. 
“Hello,” you wave from the entrance. You thought it would have been a little rude to step in and walk around without a clue of where to go, so you opted for standing by while waiting for someone to arrive. In hindsight, maybe a surprise visit wasn’t the best idea. 
Your greeting was nice enough, if not a little nervous from the way you looked her up and down. Though, she wouldn’t deny that she gave you another once over herself. Her gaze was intense but it was hard to distinguish it from judging or curiosity.  To save the awkwardness and soon to come silence, you introduce yourself and state that you were looking for someone.
“A student? Or Gojo?” You laugh a little at the mention of the older special grade. He was quite a handful for every sorcerer who ever came across him. Maki’s eyes narrow and you’re a bit intimidated. 
“I’m looking for–”
“Kugisaki, come back! I need that!” Maki groans at the sound of the rowdy first years and whips her head over to see Nobara running with one of Itadori’s shoes, waving it in the air as she spewed out complaints of her own. 
“You lost my limited edition faux fur gloves! I’m not giving this back until you can find it!” 
Maki gestures for you to follow her and you oblige while watching the two have their fun. You could tell she wasn’t all that annoyed by them but you assumed it must be to keep up appearances.
“Reminds me of the first years back at my school,” you laugh and that’s when your walking companion starts asking you a few questions. 
On the short walk from the front to the building, she was able to get your name and occupation. It turned out that you were attending another school besides the one in Kyoto, which explained why you hadn’t been there for the exchange events, and were in the process of promoting another grade up. You don’t miss how her eyes dart back and forth from in front of her to your face. 
Anyone would have been able to say that you were attractive, you were never short of getting compliments when going out, and maybe she’s spent too much time with her teacher. He prided himself in his looks and while you were in the same boat, maybe she was just glad you didn’t flaunt it. It was refreshing and maybe it was alright to sneak a few glances here and there. 
When you finally reach the main building she’s forgotten the most important question you got interrupted in answering.
“By the way, who was it you were looking for again–”
“You’re an idiot!”
“I already told you I was sorry!” It was the two again and this time they came barreling from the other entrance from where you and Maki came from. The short haired girl had her arm wrapped around the boy’s throat, rubbing the top of his head vigorously with her fist. 
You eye Maki who still didn’t look amused and only then did you notice there were more students in the room and they were staring right at you. Raising a hand you wave at them…and a panda. It seemed they meant to welcome back their classmate but were surprised to see you accompanying her. Turning back to the scene in front of you, it was suddenly silent and you were the center of attention.
“So Maki,” the panda says, “who’s your new friend? Hi, I’m Panda.” Fitting.
Introducing yourself, you receive a monotime hello in response. However, their town doesn’t match their expressions; their attention is definitely not on something, or someone, else. Maki notices this and pinches the bridge of her nose before pointing at everyone.
“Emo’s Megumi, pinky’s Itadori, Nobara, and Toge.” There’s a quiet murmur of emo and pinky from their respective parties. Your eyes land on the most familiar one in the room, giving a kind smile and wave to Inumaki who seems to have kept his attention on you.
“Kombu.” He waves back and makes a motion to jab a finger down the hallway, giving you a message everyone else was unsure of. You nod in response after figuring it.
“You guys know each other?” Itadori speaks up as he just manages to get out of Nobara’s hold. 
“Was it Toge you were looking for–” Maki is interrupted when Nobara stalks up to you. Her expression is unreadable but there is an undeniable sparkle in her eyes.
“Hi–”
“You’re very pretty, did you know that?” She says out of the blue and it was so sudden you couldn’t help but feel warm in your face. 
“Thank you,” you say and she seemed pleased with the response. Again, probably thankful you were full of yourself like a certain blue-eyed, white-haired man. “ I hope you guys don’t mind if I wait here?” It’s more of a question to make sure you’re not pressuring them. A stranger coming in out of nowhere is strange, but the students don’t seem to be opposed to it from their quick responses. 
“No, no!”
“Definitely not!”
“Yeah, you can stay.”
“We still don’t know who she’s waiting for. But yeah”
“Shake.”
Within seconds, you’re swept onto the couch and in between the first duo you saw. They’re asking you just general questions, Panda, Nobara, and Toge, even though he already knows you, listening with their full attention. Even Fushiguro’s paying less and less attention to his phone and subtly looking over at you at periodic intervals. 
All is well and good; you feel like you’re making more new friends, but a new question pops up: “Hey, you single?” Everyone stops and heads turn to Itadori who looks just as shocked as they do. He’s already one step ahead though, a hand slapped over his cheek to cover the mouth that had popped out. 
You stare confused for a moment before snapping your fingers. “You’re the Sukuna guy!” You inwardly recoil from your choice of words but Itadori doesn’t look at all bothered by them. In fact, he’s giddy that you know who he is even if it’s in a not-so-favorable-way. It is a little concerning though when he places his hand down and there’s a smirk on the mouth on his cheek, mouthing some words you would rather not remember.
“Okay,” Maki stands up and directs her attention right at you, “before I can get interrupted again,” her glare is directed particularly at the first years. Megumi mutters a what did I do under his breath but is shut up by her look, “who’s the person you’re looking for?”
“Oh!” You beam upon remembering the purpose for your visit. “I’m visiting–Yuu!” You jump up from your spot upon seeing a familiar figure walking down the hall. You waste no time in throwing yourself in his arms when he passes the doorway and he laughs, wrapping them around you to bring you into a tighter hug. You stay like that for a bit, matching bright smiles on both of your faces. 
“I missed you, angel,” He says fondly and you smile up at him.
“What the hell?” It’s only then you both remember the audience and Yutta freezes, turning his head slowly to catch their faces. Itadori (and Sukuna), Nobara, and Panda have their jaws to the floor while Maki and Megumi are conflicted on whether to feel surprised or not.
Only then does Maki remember Nobara’s question from earlier in the week. 
The only one not shocked is Inumaki who was sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed. He nods his head to gesture to his friend to explain. “Tuna mayo.” The others stare at him. 
“You knew?” He nods. He did want to poke fun and try not to reveal the truth after hearing around that Yuuta could in no way get a girl. He wanted to laugh and reveal it in a note or something but everyone’s surprise was too good to pass up. It was only a few months ago that his close friend introduced you, but that didn’t mean his initial surprise waned. Sometimes he thinks it’s a joke until Yuuta gets a text from you. 
“Mentaiko.”
“Ah,” Yuuta finally speaks up, “she’s my girlfriend?”
“Is that a question or an answer?” He flinches at the voices of Maki and Nobara, but to be fair, everyone else in the room was more or less wanting to know how the hell he managed to get someone like you.
“No offense, Okkotsu-senpai,” Nobara starts, pointing at him, “but she’s gorgeous. How?”
“W-What do you mean how?” He was indeed a little offended by the disbelief he sees and from his side you let out a laugh in amusement at the whole situation. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the most bold or confrontational outside of sorcery settings, he was a bit timid and shy but he always meant well. Even now his hold on you hasn’t left, hands resting on your waist as more comments of confusion dart out from his friends. 
You take it upon yourself to hold one of his hands and bring it up to your face, kissing his palm. “Because he’s Yuuta.” It’s pretty cheesy but the way you look at him which has the others mostly putting to rest their questions. Yuuta’s face reddens before he takes a hold of that same hand you grasped him with, pulling you along to his room. 
“It was nice meeting you all!” You call back, their presence slowly drowned out by the both of you, all unintentionally as you catch him up on the promotion and whatever else. Yuuta just likes hearing you talk. 
The others could do nothing but wave in your direction as you went.
Bonus:
After retreating to his room, the rest sat there without uttering a word, mindlessly playing cards as they gathered their thoughts. They’re only brought out of them when footsteps are heard down the other hall and come to a stop in the room. 
“What’s going on here?”
“Sensei,” Itadori calls out, “did you know that Okkotsu-senpai has a girlfriend?”
“She was hot.” He slaps his cheek again.
From the look on Gojo’s face, he didn’t. And none of them wasted the opportunity to follow him as he made it a mission to knock down Yuuta’s door to meet you too.
408 notes · View notes
komorim · 1 year
Note
itoshi sae that takes pictures of his meals routinely after you expressed your worry of him not eating enough. his manager is beyond relieved after he sees that the footballer is now gaining some weight.
itoshi sae who doesn’t mind being affectionate with you in public- who cares if there is a teenage boy gawking at you two while taking a picture for his twitter account that would surely be on headlines tomorrow? not sae.
itoshi sae that gets a bit cranky when you don’t reply to his messages within an hour. itoshi sae that even more cranky when you call off your nightly calls one day (it ended up with all of his teammates getting insults left and right for every minuscule mistake- his manager calls you that afternoon and begs you to not do that again).
itoshi sae who takes screenshots of your messages and saves the pictures you send him. his favourites are the ones during calls: where it is perfectly candid and his screenshots notifies you.
“what? it’s not like you’re naked or taking a shit.”
itoshi sae who proudly flaunts his relationship with you while wearing your matching couple necklace during matches. he kisses it to dedicate a score to you, and his teammates can’t help but wonder who you are (and what you have done to itoshi sae).
itoshi sae who isn’t embarrassed of his obvious softness towards you. in fact, he once almost completely murdered the opponent’s goalkeeper for throwing the ball straight at his chest, breaking the necklace.
“you glorified octopus, can’t aim for your life of you huh? even a country bumpkin has the common sense to avoid an opponent’s midfielder you-“
you were informed of the commotion by his manager the day after that (he keeps in contact with you very often, knowing that you do a better job keeping sae in check than him).
you tell sae to just not wear the necklace during matches. to which sae quips back, clearly offended:
“are you on his side? he broke our necklace?? you know, like an idiot???”
itoshi sae who still frowns at the little rust at the end of the necklace, where his manager got a professional to fix for him- vowing to score a goal at the goalkeeper’s face next time. (he now brings up the university’s goalkeeping ability every moment he gets during interviews).
-🐨 (im back againnnn ^^)
i most definitely did not expect more from you, but i can’t exactly say i’m complaining (i love you for this). i hope this means you saw my post and hopefully you also liked my hcs! now…undramatic drumroll…some more from me as well!
‣ itoshi sae hcs ⋮ part one !!
Tumblr media
cw // none this time as well
itoshi sae who, because he doesn’t care about the media, ends up in a lot of trouble with his manager regarding how he acts. his manager has a headache he whenever he thinks about how to clean up sae’s messes, and he no doubt is somewhat too intimidated by the football player to confront him about it. so instead, resorts to seeking you out for help.
when you talk to sae about the matter, he isn’t exactly happy about it as he genuinely doesn’t see why people should care about his character when they’re supposed to be focusing on his playing abilities. however, he begrudgingly promises you to act better in public the next time. only because it was you that asked (he can’t find it in himself to say no to you, albeit he regrets agreeing to some dumb shit you ask of him sometimes).
itoshi sae who never gives his interviewers an easy time, almost always failing to cooperate with the questions asked. however, when one host on a talk show asks about you, a small smile tugs on his lips instinctually and he can’t help the shine in his eyes as he talks about you, the love of his life.
itoshi sae who puts you as his top priority, being able to drop almost everything in order to come to your aid. sae is the type to always support you no matter what. the exact definition of “even if the whole world turns against you, i’ll always be by your side.”
itoshi sae who is definitely an actions over words kind of boyfriend who’ll never really give you sweet nothings. he’s probably the type to call you a dumbass for not wearing more on a cold day as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders with a concerned expression (tsundere but doesn’t know it).
itoshi sae whose facial expression is always the same, barely ever changing. however, he doesn’t know it, but the tips of his ears always turn a bit pink and gives him and his feelings away whenever you compliment him. he loves how you’re always so proud of him, especially as your opinion is one that’s greatly important to him.
itoshi sae who saves all the paparazzi photos of the two of you together. even if they get annoying sometimes, following him everywhere, he has to admit that they take really high quality photos of you both.
itoshi sae is the probably type to either pick you up and spin you around or hug you tightly by the waist as he gives you a kiss after a big game. he’s not always this fond of being affectionate in public, but after a tense game, he’s a bit high off the adrenaline and acts before thinking. not that he cares if others see how much he loves you though.
itoshi sae isn’t the type to really get butterflies near you or when the both of you are together. though he does feel warm and loved with you. the emptiness in him that leaving home at a young age caused was filled by you. the lonely feeling that was gained after he and rin broke up was replaced by happiness that was gained from being with you. you gave him a sense of belonging that he hadn’t felt in a while.
itoshi sae is the type to have a slow burn kind of love life. he is the type to develop feelings for you over time. when he finally couldn’t help but admit that he has fallen for you, he determines that you’re the one (but before that he was most likely in denial for the longest time; like come on, just admit that you’re in love, it won’t kill you). he wasn’t going to love another; you already took up so much of his heart that he couldn’t love anyone else even if he tried. not in this life, not in the next, and not in forever.
Tumblr media
do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.
3K notes · View notes
kenjakusbrainstem · 6 months
Text
Stuck (Mahito x Reader)
Contains: Rape, stuck in a wall, piv sex, body horror, multiple limbs.
Yo long time no see Mahito x reader fans, I admit sometimes I get far too excited to write him with Kenjaku I forget that he needs his own spotlight sometimes too. Going through some weird things irl as well so it was nice to be able to let out some of my feelings with this one, hopefully its enjoyable! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twitter at kenjakusbrain! Comment or rb if you like or have any thoughts <3
You regretted the split second detour as soon as you made it to the end of the dark alleyway. It was late and you didn’t normally take this way home, how were you supposed to know the alley was a dead end? A large man had been following you ever since you left the movie theater. You’d been foolish enough to try and tell him to leave you alone, which had only egged him on further. 
In an attempt to get away, you ducked into an alley. Quickly running to the end of it, before you realized it was a brick wall. It was far too tall for you to climb, especially with nothing to stand on, but you could see some light shining through from a hole about waist height. It was definitely too small to fit through, but as you heard heavy footsteps in the darkness behind you, you pushed away those thoughts.
Forcing your arm and head through the hole, you violently clawed at anything on the other side for leverage. Hand finding what you imagined to be a dumpster handle, you forced your other arm through, ignoring a crack in your shoulder. You could deal with a dislocated shoulder later.
Pain rushed through your body but it was drowned out by the adrenaline. You continued to force your body through the tight hole. Only pausing when you heard the man behind you begin to speak, words almost unintelligible, but it definitely sounded like he was arguing with someone. Perhaps someone was around to save you after all. Regardless, you still wanted to get out.
Half of you had made it through, your arms and head on one side, hips and legs on the other. Not much further to go, you thought as you attempted to get your hips to fit. 
They wouldn’t budge. 
Frantically you tried to force your way through, clawing and kicking to move your body forward, but nothing seemed to work.
The sound of flesh hitting pavement pulled your attention from trying to free yourself. A soft giggle sounded behind you, definitely not from the man who’d been pursuing you. Had you been saved?
“Hello?” You called out, unsure if you would even receive an answer.
The only response you received was a hand resting on the small of your back. Even though the gesture was not violent, it still startled you. You kicked back reflexively, but before your foot made contact with anyone, it was caught. The feeling of your leg being lifted into the air made you panic further, you could feel the material of your skirt bunching up around your hips.
“Why are you trying to go through the wall? Is that some silly human game?” A soft voice asked from behind you. He wasn’t quiet, but the intonation of the questions sounded curious, like a child asking why about some mundane thing they just didn’t understand yet.
You tried to get control of your leg back, but you could feel the hands wrapped around your ankle were strong. It didn’t make sense to you that this person could have dispatched the man that was following you and still be confused about why you were stuck like this. And what did he mean by ‘human’?
“That person was chasing me, he isn’t still there is he? It sounded like he got knocked out. I’m stuck now. Can you please help me out?” Your words ran together as you frantically tried to explain and ask questions at the same time. It should have been obvious that you were trying to escape. 
Another soft laugh echoed off the walls around you. It made your skin crawl, something had seemed off ever since you started interacting with this mystery person, even if they did save you, there was something definitely wrong with this.
“The big man? Oh you don’t need to worry about him at all, he’s in my pocket now and can’t hurt you. I could get you unstuck really easily, but it might make you sweat more than it sounds like you already are,” The man said, his words only making the situation more confusing. Nothing that he said reassured you at all, neither did the second set of hands picking up your other leg.
Even if you had been talking to only one person, the hands on your other leg made your guts twist with anxiety. Maybe you hit your head and all of this was a strange nightmare that your mind had cooked up?
You opened your mouth to ask a question, but the words were cut off by a scream as your legs were spread fully, exposing you to the person, or people, behind you. 
Before you even had the chance to beg for help or call out to maybe urge someone closer, you felt the wall you were stuck in tremble as if it had been struck by something heavy. Much to your surprise, a hand came from behind you, wrapping around your lips. 
You could make out enough of the arm in the dark to know that it was freakishly long, even ignoring the fact that it had come through the wall. The fact that you could see the elbow in front of you made your mind hazy, no wonder the thing had referred to you as a human, because he couldn’t be! Even if the fingers felt human and the skin looked normal, it had to be twice the length of a human arm or more, not to mention the strange stitch like markings covering the skin. 
“Geto said I need to get better at working with humans so he can try making more cursed womb paintings and you’re in the perfect position to practice. I hope you don’t mind that I want to get some practice alone, he says I’m usually too sensitive and finish too quickly,” The man, monster, whatever was behind you said. None of the words made sense to you other than being in a position to practice. 
This is what you had been trying to escape in fitting yourself in this hole, and yet you’d only gotten yourself into an even worse situation. Maybe if you were lucky the person would put you out of your misery after. 
Now that you were sure that it was just one person behind you, the feeling of another hand reaching out to rip your panties off of you was more frightening. There were far too many hands involved for this to be anything other than a monster. 
“Wow! You’re already so slick down here! Geto said humans only get like this when they’re excited, so maybe you like this more than it seems!” His excited words made you cringe internally. You mentally cursed whoever this ‘Geto’ he was referring to was.
The fingers that had ripped your panties now slid between your soaked folds easily. You didn’t know why you were so wet but you hated yourself for it. The tips of his fingers stroking against your clit made a spike of pleasure cut through the fear and anxiety filling you. 
He didn’t waste time teasing you for long, though. The fingers traced up, slipping around your entrance for just a second before they were replaced by the blunt head of the man’s cock. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but you already knew the movement would do nothing for you. 
It didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated when he pressed himself into you. His size must have been below average as it barely felt like he was sticking two fingers inside. A dark moment of reprieve filled you, it could always be worse, you thought. The ache in your thighs hurt more than the stretch in your pussy as he started to slowly thrust.
Relief only lasted for a moment however, as you suddenly felt something else inside of you. It was as if with each thrust inside of you his cock grew in size. Different than if he were just getting harder. Somehow it was as if he could change his shape at will, the stretch that hadn’t bothered you before was now burning as he pressed his large, throbbing cock inside you.
Suddenly, you could feel everything, every vein on his cock filling you up so completely that you thought you’d burst. Another scream threatened to escape, but the hand on your lips kept any sound from getting out. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his thrusting continued. 
You could barely make out the sound of whiny moaning through the wall. It seemed like you weren’t the only one that was feeling more than they had expected from this. The hands on each of your legs were squeezing tighter with every thrust, your feet had started to feel almost numb. You could only hope the numb feeling would spread.
The monster’s thrusts were hard to anticipate, it was like he was moving on instinct without any rhythm or method to the way he fucked into you. It was hard to anticipate when the next thrust would come as his hips changed pace constantly. One thrust was hard and deep, the next shallow and slow. 
It was clear he was chasing only his pleasure. 
Tears slid down your cheeks as he continued fucking you, you hated how good it felt when the thrusts weren’t too hard. Being so full did hurt, but whenever the thrusts slowed down it almost felt perfect. The slow drag of his thick cock, if this were any other situation, you were sure that you would be screaming in pleasure instead.
It wasn’t long before his thrusts became even more inconsistent, as if he were losing control. His whining moans sounded even more desperate. Only a few more deep thrusts before he pressed himself all the way into you, filling you to the brim before releasing deep inside of you. 
You were stuffed so full you could feel each spurt of his cum inside you, and even feel it leaking out of your body around his cock.
He pulled out quickly, dropping your legs as he moved. The hand that covered your mouth patted your cheek before being pulled back through the hole. Before you could even think to say anything, you heard a noise from above you. Craning your neck you watched a normal looking man jump down in front of you.
As he turned to face you, you noted the stitches on his face matching the ones on the strange arm that had held your mouth closed. Only, he looked normal, his arms were proportionate, everything about him was like that of a normal human, including the two arms with only two hands despite how many hands you had felt.
The stress of the night had finally become too much for you, as he leaned in to say something, you felt your consciousness leave you.
675 notes · View notes
mazeinthemoon · 1 year
Text
hella whipped for you.
txt beomgyu x gn!reader; friends to lovers; ft. txt soobin
the one where beomgyu makes it so obvious he’s into you, but you just cant take the hint
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
requested
“it really doesn’t make sense right?” soobin laughs, leaning against your shoulder as he does so. you laugh happily with him, ignoring the grumpy boy seated on the other side of you.
you and soobin had been chatting about the anime you both decided to start watching at the same time, and if beomgyu had known that the two of you would just be talking about that, he wouldn’t have offered to hang out with you at his dorm.
all he wanted was to spend time with his crush, but of course, as soobin does with all things, he took your attention away with the simple mention of the anime.
beomgyu grumbles next to you and sighs loudly to hopefully capture your attention for once this whole night. but.. you don’t.
instead of paying attention to the boy who desperately wants it, you double into a fit of giggles against soobin when he mentions a particular scene of the anime that had you on the floor laughing.
it wasn’t fair how naturally drawn you were to soobin, and, in beomgyu’s mind, he felt left out in his own friendship because of it. without any hesitation and deeper thinking if he even should be feeling this way, he began to slowly break himself down.
"yn~," the younger sing-songs, grabbing your hand gently to try and pry you away. this was his last attempt at gaining your attention when he says, "you said we could play games."
the reaction you gave with something that didn't even come close to what he was hoping for, and unfortunately for him, it only made him feel more insecure about his relationship with you.
"gyu, me and soobin are talking for a bit," you give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand in attempt to ease him. "i promise to play in a second, okay?"
he whines just slightly, just quiet enough for you to not hear, as he gets up from his place on the couch and walks to his room obviously upset. he normally doesn't feel this way when it comes to how you and his members get along, but this time around, he couldn't hold down the jealousy.
and it isn’t until soobin tells you to go check on him that you noticed he hasn’t come back from his little tantrum. of course you cared about the boy, maybe a little too much for your liking, but you were completely oblivious to any sort of sign beomgyu gave you that pointed towards mutual romantic feelings.
you open the door to his room with no warning, the two of you were close that way. he stares up at you from his bed where he had been casually scrolling through his phone.
“what do you want?” he huffs, pouting cutely while he places his phone down and crosses his arms against his chest. “shouldn’t you be hanging out with soobin?”
you walk over to him and sit next to him on the bed, “what’s the purpose of hanging out with him when i have the bestest friend right next to me?”
friend.
his heart.. shatters.
“f-friend?” he asks quietly, now averting his eyes towards the pillow he had on his lap.
“yeah,” you nod and watch him being to sulk, turning your head to the side with confusion. “we’re best friends aren’t we?”
“yn..,” beomgyu starts then begins to chew on his lip. he debates on whether or not to confess to you right then and there.
you look at him a bit confused as to why his attitude towards you didn’t improve, but changed ever so slightly to a state full of anxiety. you grab his hand to try and comfort him, something you found he loves, but instead of running his fingers against yours like he usually does, his hand is still.
“what if i said..,” beomgyu pauses and takes a deep breath in. he then proceeds to ramble really quickly, “what if i said i liked you? like more than a friend? but i’m so scared you wouldn’t like me back and i just..”
as he continues to go on and on about his obvious feelings for you, you sit next to him completely puzzled. the cause of beomgyu’s weird behavior was because he liked you?
“..i just don’t know how you don’t realize, but fuck, yn! i’m hella whipped for you.”
without even a second for him to process what he just said to you, you lean over to press your lips onto his, in a slow and sweet kiss. once the boy realizes what’s going on, he presses a firm hand against the back of your head and kisses you back passionately.
after a few moments of showcasing the love you both have for one another, you pull back from his lips and it makes a soft wet sound you will probably never get enough of.
“i know i’m not the smartest when it comes to these things,” you say, running a thumb against his reddened lips gently. “but didn’t you ever stop to think i might be hella whipped for you, too?”
Tumblr media
note: whzgwhahwusj >< feedbacks are appreciated
taglist: [perm] @soobin-chois @run2seob @taedeco [txt] @ghouerry @loveradhikabloggerworld @iluvsoobinsblog @hearts4csb
1K notes · View notes
miyakuya · 1 year
Text
— how i think some of the bsd characters act after they realize they’re in love
© miyakuya 2023– plagiarism, reposts, or anything related or copying isn’t allowed.
Tumblr media
Pretty much acts the exact same way, however they linger more often, whether they mean too or not. That can be in regards to their actions or simply with how long they look in your direction.
— Atsushi Nakajima, Edgar Allan Poe, Gin Akutagawa, Ranpo Edogawa, Saigiku Jōno, Sigma
Confident about it. They don’t necessarily care if you know how they feel or not even though they’re more than likely not going to tell you that out loud yet. They up their actions and teasing (if they do something like that) so people will know how they feel and hopefully back off. So long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.
— Chuuya Nakahara, Kōyō Ozaki, Nikolai Gogol, Osamu Dazai
Pretty sweet. They may not act that way all the time, especially around others but when you’re alone or with very few people, they have such an obvious sweet spot for you that would sell them out in seconds. They’re always going out of their way for you and if you’re lucky enough, you can see how much they adore you when they meet your eyes.
— Akiko Yosano, Atsushi Nakajima, Chuuya Nakahara, Edgar Allan Poe, Michizō Tachihara, Ranpo Edogawa, Saigiko Jōno
Relatively mean about it? They don’t really know how to feel with the realization and they hope that if they’re mean to you and pushing you away, they’ll stop thinking about you and it’d make them feel better. It doesn’t work, of course, and as they warm up to you and the idea of being with you, they can be sweet. You just need to be patient with them as it’d be worth it.
— Doppo Kunikida, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa
Absolutely convinced they’re not in love and it’s just in their head. Sure they like spending time with you and you are normally the reason why they have a smile on their face but that doesn’t mean anything… right? WRONG. They’re so in love and the more their friends tease them for how they act around you or with how painfully obvious they are when they look at you, they know they’re screwed and it’s not in their head.
— Doppo Kunikida, Michizō Tachihara, Sigma, Tecchō Suehiro
ew what the fuck is love and how do i get rid of it /j
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa
Tumblr media
taglist: @astro-pioneer
1K notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 7 months
Note
Look just bare with me sit in my brain for a second imagine Stina is trying to flirt with reader and failing miserably and Katie is just sick of watching the awful flirting. Katie is trying to help Stina flirt with Reader and Stina is still failing. Katie tells her to take the physical approach and Stina like does that girly slap readers arm like “omg you’re so funny”. Katie is just absolutely astonished at how one can be so bad at flirting and she’s annoyed that Stina isn’t getting it. So Katie does what Katie does best and tackles Stina and that is how we get to the picture and she’s just like politely, quietly, yelling that this position is what she meant by flirting. And then we have Stina who is just like “that’s so aggressive. Why are you like this?” Like idk I just feel this would be funny.
Tumblr media
tongue tied II s.blackstenius
"i like your boots today y/n/n, they look very...very clean today." katie winced at the poor attempt at flirting which dropped from the blonde swedes mouth. "thanks stin." you chuckled with an amused smile before jogging off after viv for some shooting practice.
"what the hell was that!" katie shoved the blonde who watched you go with a pained look on her face. "i don't know! she makes me nervous." stina huffed, pulling her hair out and scraping it into a messy bun as katie shook her head.
the poor woman had been tongue tied around you ever since you were signed and joined the club this season, and stina's painstaking crush seemed obvious to absolutely everyone but you.
which was probably due to the fact stina couldn't flirt to save her life, and as much as she wanted to ask you out she just couldn't find the words.
katie determined to wingwoman the blonde had already established early on in the most unsubtle of ways that you were single and interested in woman, bluntly cornering you after training and firing a few questions your way until leah noticed the interrogation and dragged you away to safety.
it had been almost three weeks of stina tripping and stumbling over herself trying to let you know how she felt, too worried of rejection to directly ask you, but her poor attempts to feel out if you'd be interested by 'flirting' were just...painful.
"thats not how ya flirt with someone. you wanna make sure they know you like them, compliment her not her boots!" katie explained with a roll of her eyes as the tall blonde beside her nodded slowly. "try again, go on." katie pushed stina toward you, following just behind where she was still within earshot.
"wow that was a good kick! very uh strong and powerful." stina smiled after you knocked a goal into the top right corner, cheering as viv clapped you on the back. "oh my god." katie mumbled to herself, smacking her hand against her forehead, this was harder than she'd thought.
"was that better?" stina asked hopefully as katie caught up with her and you ran off again, this time chasing after gio who'd poured her water bottle down your back. "no, it was somehow worse." katie affirmed making the taller woman groan.
"when i said compliment her i meant like her eyes or how she looks good in the training kit or her laugh! something about her not about football." katie sighed, spotting lia walking toward them.
"like this, watch."
"oi wally, your biceps look good in that vest today. wanna bench press me?" katie grinned cheekily at her friend who playfully rolled her eyes but blew her a sarcastic kiss before continuing on past them.
"see! like that. now you try to flirt with me." katie ordered as stina nodded along. "uh the way that you have your shorts rolled up makes your thighs look big." stina tried, katie simply face palming again with a deep sigh.
"katie this is hard! i could do better in swedish but she will not understand." stina groaned, grumbling to herself in annoyance in her native language as she folded her arms over her chest, watching you kick the ball around with noelle and lotte on the other side of the pitch.
"okay, flirtin 101. new tactic!" katie clapped as stina nodded, eagerly listening. "when she says somethin funny, you smack her arm and laugh. like this!" katie smacked stina lightly on the shoulder and forced a laugh.
"okay. but what if what she says is not funny?" stina frowned as katie sighed. "you wait until she says somethin funny stina!"
~
"okay girls we're down by two. we need to isolate lessi and beth, that's whose causing us the most trouble." leah commanded in the huddle, the team split into four smaller teams for a wind down game.
"you're telling me. beth's flying today she's practically dancing around me!" you sighed tiredly, having been going one on one with the speedy blonde all game. "that was funny!" stina laughed as the huddle broke apart, punching you in the arm a lot harder than katie had demonstrated.
"ow! stina what was that for." you scowled at the taller blonde, rubbing your throbbing arm and shoving her lightly, katie pinching the bridge of her nose. stina apologizing hastily as you ran off to resume the game, looking to katie with wide eyes who held her hands up and jogged off after you onto the pitch.
once the game had finished, your team unfortunately losing by one singular goal the training staff called for free time before everyone was expected in the gym in an hour.
"what did i do wrong!" stina yanked her bib off and rushed right over to katie who was stretching. "ya punched her!" the irishwoman laughed with a shake of her head. "this is never going to work!" stina groaned, dropping to the floor with a groan.
"because ya don't listen stin! look, you do it like this." katie jumped on top of the blonde who screamed as she did, repeatedly demonstrating a light playful smack and laugh as stina struggled to throw her off.
"okay okay i understand! get off of me." stina grunted, finally shoving off the rambunctious brunette who fell to the floor as the swedish woman pulled herself to her feet with a determined huff.
"good. go get her!" katie ordered from the ground, pointing toward you where you were practicing your juggling, seemingly lost in your own world. but you were rudely snapped back into reality as a body slammed into you, a mess of blonde hair tackling you to the ground as you gave out a yell.
"you are very funny. go on a date with me!" stina sat on top of you as your eyes widened, both in shock from her words and the way your body had just been smacked into the ground.
"oh my fucking-" katie watched on in disbelief, flopping onto her back and burying her face in her hands with a defeated sigh.
"okay. but you could have just asked me stin!" you threw your head back, clutching at your stomach as you laughed at the abrupt unexpected situation, stina eventually joining you.
"then its a date, when we get back to london. i will organise it!" stina grinned happily, jumping up off of you and offering you a hand up. "sounds good. but next time just come talk to me, no more tackling or punching me!" you teased, kissing her cheek with a wink before you ran off with a beaming smile toward lotte to fill her in.
"katie! i did it! did you see?" stina bounded over to the irish woman who peeked out from her hands, frowning at the elated look on the blondes face. "that worked? she said yes?" katie scoffed, jumping to her feet as stina nodded eagerly.
"jesus, well. now i guess we have to work on your flirting for the date." "wait you have to flirt on the date!?"
506 notes · View notes
xo-cori · 7 months
Text
because second’s not the same
Tumblr media
pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
summary: morals become blurred in a motel room with your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.
warnings: smut (MDNI), comphet on reader’s end, internalized homophobia, lots of angst, cheating, sorry owen you seem cool, submissive top!abby ftw, hair pulling, fingersucking, facesitting, abby makes reader answer a call while getting down n dirty, they both hate men (real)
a/n: my first fic on this godforsaken app, hopefully it’s okay! this is based off of an old halsey song called “is there somewhere,” i highly recommend listening while you read
Tumblr media
When your phone chimes twice at exactly ten o’clock on a Friday night, your heartbeat quickens and the air is stolen from your lungs. Your body seems to know who it is before you do. Maybe that should concern you or serve as a reminder of how much of a problem this is becoming, but instead, you unlock your phone and read the much anticipated message.
abby: Hey
abby: What are you up to tonight??
you: hey, i was just reading a bit before bed
abby: Sounds like a real party
you: shut up lol
you: why do you ask?
abby: Don’t make me say it
you: i’m making you say it
There’s a hesitance on Abby’s side, made obvious by how the text bubble appears and disappears as she types and deletes a response. It takes her a good minute to send another message.
abby: Just wanted to know if you’d meet me
abby: Please
you: there we go. be there in 20
Before you know it, you’re driving fifteen miles over the speed limit, chest tight and craving a release that only Abby can bring. You eventually step out of your car and into the near-empty parking lot of the old motel that you’ve become awfully familiar with these past few weeks.
Your feet guide you along the farthest side of the building, straight towards a room marked ‘93,’ and you invite yourself in.
In less than five minutes, your shirts are on the floor and her hands are on your hips and god, her thigh feels so good between yours. She always seems to know exactly what you need. More importantly, she wastes no time with giving it to you.
“Fuck,” Abby says, “been waiting for this all week.”
You nod in agreement, lost in the way she grinds you onto her with seemingly no effort. She sighs contentedly when your back arches, chest pressing into hers, enveloping her in your warmth and melting away all the stress of a long day. There’s a piece of heaven in this room with her. How could she worry about anything outside of it?
“Me too,” you reply. One of your hands grasps at her shoulder in attempt to steady yourself, caressing the tense muscle, while the other gently tugs her hair. The dirty blonde strands feel like silk between your fingers and you can smell the pine shampoo that she uses. It invades all of your senses. It makes you desperate for more. So, you tug harder. Her head falls back against the headboard with a groan and you use it as an opening, diving in to press your lips to her neck.
It’s messy, just how Abby likes it. Her grip on you tightens and she lets out a broken gasp.
She needs this just as much as you do, if not more– but you’re much more generous with the teasing.
“Feel good?” You mumble into her throat, before picking another patch of skin to suckle on. Every touch sends a bolt of electricity up her spine and decorates her freckled skin with goosebumps.
Still, Abby does what she does best, and clings to any power she still has. You don’t resist when she grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you back onto the bed. In fact, you only spread your legs wider so she can situate herself between them. Then, without wasting another moment, her lips come crashing down onto yours.
It’s always your favorite part of the night; when she kisses you so passionately that you can almost fool yourself into thinking it means something.
This isn’t supposed to mean anything, though.
You assure yourself that the sparks you feel are all make-believe, silently wrestling with the fact that you’ve never once felt this with Owen. Not even close.
Her tongue quickly finds yours in a heated battle for dominance that she’s already lost. There’s no telling just how long this goes on for– you’re so focused on the feeling of her large hands running up and down your body, soothing all the shame you feel about this arrangement as you caress her cheek with your thumb.
It’s a loving gesture. Too loving, Abby thinks. She shouldn’t enjoy it so much, but she does.
When she pulls away, your half-lidded eyes land on the redness on her face, her swollen lips, her hair that’s all messy from your wandering fingers. The dim light from the bedside lamp casts a glow to one side of her face, and a shadow on the other. The thumb that was once on her cheek starts moving toward her mouth, until it pushes past her waiting lips and she accepts it with a pleased hum.
You watch her intently as you press down on the center of her tongue. Her brows furrow up and she lets out a whine.
After a few more moments, you pull your thumb from Abby’s mouth and smear her own saliva across her lips. She opens her eyes to look down at you, finally, and you offer a warm smile. “You just take it.” You observe aloud. “Whatever I want, you just let it happen.”
It’s a stark difference from your relationship with Owen. There’s never any concern for what you want; though, to be honest, you wouldn’t be in a relationship with him if you could get actually get what you want. It’d be Abby’s apartment you go to every weekend. There’d be no motel and no deleted messages and no acting like mere acquaintances when Owen gets all of his friends together, including her and you.
If you could get what you wanted, you don’t think you’d ever want anything else ever again.
“Yeah.” She agrees, slightly muffled until you fully pull your hand away. “Whatever you want.”
Part of you feels bad. You have this woman wrapped around your finger, and you have to act like it’s nothing more than a convenience.
In reality, it’s everything to you.
So, the other part of you plans to take whatever you can from her.
“You really mean that?” You ask.
“Would I lie to you?” She asks in return.
You pat her cheek. “Lay down, then.”
Without another word, Abby does as she’s told. The two of you switch positions and she watches you peel off the rest of your clothes, while she lays in a grey sports bra and a pair of boxers.
She starts to feel excited when she thinks you’ll move down further like usual, your face nestled between her legs until you’re pulling orgasm from orgasm out of her.
Her heart nearly stops, though, when she sees you pull off your own panties and begin crawling up her body.
‘Excited’ doesn’t do it justice. You’ve hardly done anything and she already feels like she might die of happiness.
You feel her hands grab your ass, encouraging you to move much faster than you are, and you hesitantly oblige. “You can push me off if you need to, yeah?” You clarify. “Don’t wanna suffocate you or anything.”
Abby nods with a quiet mm-hmm only to appease you, but in her mind, suffocating to death while you sit on her face would be an honor. She’d probably die beneath you before the thought of pushing you off ever crosses her mind. For now, though, you do your best to be gentle as she ushers you to fully hover over her mouth.
Then, she pulls you down onto it.
A strangled moan escapes you when her tongue immediately finds its target, her patience clearly worn thin as she latches to your clit. Your hands fly down to grab her hair in attempt to ground yourself, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you’re having an out-of-body experience.
The worst part? Only Abby can make you feel this way.
Guilty, and so, so good.
Maybe she doesn’t know the extent of your feelings, but she knows your body like the back of her hand, and she uses that to her advantage. Her fingers dig into the pillowy flesh above your hip bones, surely hard enough to leave a few bruises, but you never complain about marks until you see them in the morning.
“Abs,” you manage breathlessly, “ease up, baby–”
You’re cut off by another moan as she somehow manages to pull you down further, unrelenting and making it impossible for you to escape. Not that you’d want to, anyways. So, you just grab her hair with one hand and grab the headboard with the other as your eyes flutter shut.
That is, until you hear your phone vibrate on the bedside table. Once, twice, three times; you soon realize that it isn’t stopping.
“Fuck.” You groan.
Abby looks up at you and slightly moves you down so she can speak, seemingly much more entertained by this than you. “Who’s calling?”
“It’s Owen,” you say truthfully, “I was supposed to go over to his place tonight, but here we are.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you blew him off for me?”
“No shit. I’ll just silence it and pretend I fell asleep.” You grumble. Then, you reach over to grab the phone before she takes a hold of your wrist.
“Answer it.” She says.
You can’t help but laugh despite the forming pit of anxiety in your stomach, because you know that she’s dead serious. “What?”
“You heard me. Answer it or I’ll stop.” She repeats, making your eyes widen.
“…Fine, but can you please—” You’re interrupted by Abby pressing the green button for you, and you quickly bring the phone towards your ear.
The sound of Owen’s voice makes your chest feel tight. “Hey,” he says with an obvious concern in his voice. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
You open your mouth to respond, but you can only let out a gasp when you feel Abby’s lips wrap around your clit. Thankfully, her tongue moves more slowly than before, deciding to show you some mercy. “Yeah,” you breathe, “yeah, I fell asleep– I’m sorry, I really don’t feel good today. Think I might’ve caught something.”
It’s a pathetic excuse, but you can only hope he buys it. “Oh, that’s… uh, not good.” He mumbles, which makes you roll your eyes. “Do you want me to bring anything to your place? I have this cold medicine that could literally heal the bubonic plague, and I’m pretty sure I have some soup in one of these cabinets somewhere,”
You can hear him rummaging around on the other line. “No!” You blurt out. The last thing you need is Owen stopping by just to find out that you aren’t home. “No, I’m okay. Appreciate it, though.”
“You sure? If you’re worried about me getting sick, I can just leave it outside the door.” He continues.
“Really, Owen, it’s fine. Pretty sure I’ll feel better in the morning,” you assure him.
He sighs. “Whatever you say. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay? I’ll bring whatever you need.”
He’s kind. Too kind, considering your current situation. Abby’s mouth is latched to the most sensitive parts of you, her blue eyes staring up at you as you try your hardest to keep your voice steady. She kneads at the back of your thighs, getting you into a rhythm while you rut against her tongue.
All the while, you’re on the phone with a man who deserves much better. You’re aware of this. You tilt your head back with a shaky sigh.
“Okay,” you reply, “thanks, Owen. ‘Night.”
You don’t even wait for him to say it back before you hang up the phone, quickly throwing it off of the bed onto the carpeted floor. Abby smiles, and you can feel it. You reach down to grab a handful of her hair and pull it as hard as you can– which isn’t very hard, but it still makes her whine. “Fuck you,” you huff, thighs tensing on either side of her head, “I’m so close, Abs.”
Any annoyance you feel is overshadowed by the orgasm creeping up on you much quicker than usual. You already know that you’ll never forgive yourself for being so turned on by something so horrible.
Abby sticks her tongue out so that you can ride it, letting out moans of encouragement as you finally tip over the edge. Your mouth falls open and a gush of wetness fills Abby’s, which she happily laps up with her warm tongue. Her hands wander over your shivering body, listening to your muffled moans with her eyes trained on your face; more specifically, the tears that begin to run down your cheeks.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to crawl off of her face and crash into the bed beneath you, much to Abby’s dismay, but she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she crawls to your side, placing a strong arm over your stomach so she can pull you closer.
Though all of your instincts scream to push her away, you just curl into her and bury your face in the crook of her neck. She thinks maybe, just maybe, everything is fine; of course, until she hears you let out a quiet sob. One of her hands comes up to rub your back, a soothing gesture that only makes you cry harder.
“Hey,” Abby whispers, “are you… did I do something wrong? Was it the phone thing? ‘Cause if it is, I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”
“It isn’t that.” You mutter.
It’s only a half-lie. Honestly, you aren’t crying because you spoke to your boyfriend as if you weren’t hooking up with his ex, no. You’re crying because you thought it was the hottest thing ever.
“Isn’t it, though?” She questions. “Seriously, I fucked up and I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Abs– I swear, it’s not you, it’s just… this. All of this. I don’t like it.” You do your best to reassure her, but it only causes more confusion.
“What, and you think I do? Because I don’t. I like you, though, so I deal with it. That’s what we agreed to.” Abby says. You can tell she’s upset no matter how gentle her voice is. There’s a certain bite to it, a venom that you’re quick to pick up on. “He’s my friend too, you know. This isn’t easy for me either.”
This comment makes you rear back a bit, looking up at her with furrowed brows. “I know that, Abby. None of this is easy for either of us. He’s my boyfriend, and he was yours at one point, too.”
“Don’t remind me,” she scoffs.
You give her a stern look. “I’m serious. This is gonna end one way or another. Someone’s gonna find out.”
Her grip on your waist tightens. “No one’s gonna find out if we don’t let them find out.”
“You don’t know that.” You shake your head. “All it takes is one fuck up.”
“So, what do you wanna do? You wanna break this off now and go back to being acquaintances?” Abby asks, voice raised defensively.
“Obviously not!” You yell, sitting up and dragging the comforter along so you can cover yourself. “I love you, Abby. I love being with you and talking to you and—”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that.” She interrupts you, which is probably for the better.
It’s different for Abby, being one of Owen’s closest friends, because he’s unaware of how well she knows you and so he feels comfortable confiding in her about your relationship. A big problem he seems to have is that you’ve never once said the word love. Not to him, at least. Not about him.
Yet, here you are, throwing that word around just for her.
She wants to feel honored, but she finds herself only feeling guilt. The kind that makes her throat tighten and her heart drop.
You groan in frustration. “But it’s true!”
“So make it untrue!” She shouts back. “You can’t just… say shit like that, and expect me to be okay with it. You’re supposed to love Owen.”
A confession bubbles up in your chest, one that you know you should shake away, but your mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “But I don’t.” You mumble. “I want to. I just can’t.”
Abby stares at you like she’s seen a ghost. All conversations she’s had with Owen about you– ones about how he’d propose to you someday, wondering if you’d want to have kids, asking if it was too early on in the relationship to think about saving for a house– they all become null. The worst part? Abby thinks she might know exactly how you feel. “You can’t? What does that mean?” She asks.
“Exactly what it sounds like.” You reply. “I try, but I can’t. We go on dates, and the whole time, I’m just waiting for it to be over. We watch a movie together, and I pretend to fall asleep so he doesn’t try anything. It’s exhausting, Abby. None of it feels right. Every single fucking guy I’ve been with– it never feels right. The only relief has been you.”
Abby listens to your rant with a blank expression, reaching up to wipe some stray tears from your cheeks with her thumb. “So, you’re gay.” She says.
You quickly grab her wrist and shove her hand away. “I’m not gay.” You hiss.
She sighs. “You just sat on my face. You’re a little gay.”
“Okay, fine, maybe a little!” You throw your hands up defensively. “But I don’t like other women. I like you.”
Truthfully, it’s all too much for Abby to take in at once; she does her best to appear, knowing her best bet is to calm you down, but she can’t imagine how much it would break Owen to know this. To know that he’s now been left by two women due to a sexuality crisis. Would he think it’s his fault? Would he guess that Abby had something to do with it? She likes you too, maybe more than she knows, but it’s an impossible situation.
When you’re met with silence on Abby’s end, you continue. “You’re gonna think I’m horrible for this, but it’s true; I’ve been waiting for him to fuck up so I have a reason to leave him. Some nights, he tells me he’s going to a party and I’ll go to sleep hoping I wake up to a text from Manny about how Owen got a little too drunk and some girl looked enough like me,” you shrug, “I’ve had that scenario in my head for weeks. It’s so convenient.”
“You’re fucked up,” Abby shakes her head, “fantasizing about him cheating while you’re sleeping with his friend? Jesus.”
“But it’s true, right? Then I could just leave him. No goodbye, no nothing. I’d give him all his sweatshirts back and let him see me wearing yours instead.” You say, and she immediately recognizes that tone in your voice. Something dark, something you put on when you know what you want and you’re set on getting it.
It hurts to hear you talk about her friend like he’s nothing more than an obstacle. It hurts even more to know that, deep down, she’d felt the exact same way once.
Wishing he’d leave her, knowing that he never would.
“Yeah.” She huffs, now visibly doing her best to avoid eye contact. Her eyes skitter around the room and it doesn’t take long for you to regret speaking your mind. “That sounds like an easy way out, but you should know by now that there’s nothing easy about being with Owen. Nothing’s easy about cheating, either.”
You nod in agreement. There’s a heavy silence after that, one that leaves you both staring down and biting your cheeks and feeling like all your sins had been laid out in front of you. The weight of it all is overbearing, but still so worth it.
“It’s easier with you,” you mutter after a minute, “and I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel the same.”
“I wouldn’t.” Abby agrees, deciding to leave it at that. “Do you… uh, do you wanna stay the night? Here, with me?”
Finally, your eyes meet hers, and she hates the way this simple action reignites the spark inside of her. You tilt your head. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t really return the favor, huh?”
Her jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she fights back a smile. She shouldn’t be so infatuated with you– your every movement, every word– but she is.
The smile escapes her efforts and she shakes her head. “No. No, you didn’t.”
852 notes · View notes
harrysdaydreams · 7 months
Text
Unsatiated
Summary- Reader finds herself in a low place and has shut out the one person she should know wants to help more than anything. Harry is more than happy to take care of her regardless, which leads to revelations on both parts
Slight angst that ends with fluff that turns suggestive
Or
-Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.
He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.
His fingers are soft and careful with your strands, and his use of the brush is even gentler, taking his time to properly ensure every piece of hair is free from knots. The delicate touch of his fingers brushing the back of your neck causes you to let out a gentle sigh, and you unintentionally sink back into his touch.
Word count- 4.3k
Tumblr media
Tuesday. Even the word itself sounded mundane and miserable. Throw in some grey skies accompanied by pouring rain, it was a recipe for a shitty day.
Normally you’d crack open a window, light a candle and bask in the fresh sounds of the raindrops hitting the floor of the balcony to your flat.
But it was more than a bad day- the past week you’d been feeling at your lowest, with no real pinpoint as to why. It was hard to find motivation for anything, cooking a nice meal, going outside, reaching out to your friends- several who had messages in your phone left unread- it all just seemed too much.
So here you lay in bed at 1pm, the same place you’d been all day, minus bathroom trips and the tremendous effort it had seemed to have taken to make some instant noodles that still sat on your nightstand uneaten.
You turn over onto your front and sigh into your pillow, having lost count of how many times you’d done the same thing all morning.
Why did everything feel so heavy? This isn’t how you usually responded to feeling low, always opting for surrounding yourself with the people you knew could lift you out of any place, no matter the situation.
Being with people now was the last thing you wanted, especially in your home, with piles of laundry waiting to be washed and dishes to be cleaned.
Uncomfortable on your front, you opt to turn back onto your side, reaching for your phone on the nightstand with the intention of putting on some music to drown out the rain. Hopefully you’d find something that could pull you out of your mood- that or something that further fuelled your angsty state and could maybe push you to finally release the pent-up tears you were too frustrated to shed.
As you scroll through your playlists contemplating what tone to set as you continue rotting in bed for the rest of the day, a text notification pops at the top of your phone.
Harry.
You assume he’s probably double texting you with some sort of snarky message for not replying to your beloved best friend for over two days. Your heart sinks a little as you think of him, his contagious smile and warm personality.
You miss him, and thinking of him is enough to momentarily make you smile as you pull down the notification to read the contents of his message.
Harry- You really gonna leave all four of my messages on delivered? I’m hurt Bitsy, deeply hurt.
You smile at his obvious sarcasm and the stupid nickname he came up with 4 years ago after finding out you were exactly one year, one month and one day apart in age, him being the eldest. He played on the fact that you’re younger than him and ran away with it completely, always making jokes of how small and ‘young’ you are.
 Another text notification brings you back from your reminiscing, a new message directly under the one you’d just read.
Harry- Really though, are you ok? The radio silence isn’t normal for you.
Your heart sinks again and you feel bad for leaving your closest friend worrying about you.
Harry- Usually I have to mute our text thread just for some peace..
For the first time in days, you laugh out loud, a genuine smile spreading on your face that crinkles the corner of your eyes.
You- Uhh, RUDE!
Harry- Ahhh she lives!
Fuck, the way he can change your sour demeanour in just a few short messages. You instantly feel stupid for shutting everyone out, especially him.
You- Alive and kickin’! Specifically, your ass for being so rude. I’m okay though, promise old man. Sorry if I made you worry!
Harry- I’ll await my ass kicking whilst shaking in fear. Miss you though. Want me to come over? We missed pizza night on Sunday because someone... lost her phone? Fell off the face of the earth?
The suggestion of him coming over fills you with dread and takes away all of the momentary relief and lift in mood you’d felt just from texting with him.
You could pretend you were okay to a degree over text, but if he came over, he’d take one look at you, or around your flat and know something was wrong. And you wouldn’t even be able to give him a definitive answer why.
You tap the back of your phone with your nails anxiously trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him worry more, seeing as you rarely turned down an opportunity to hang out together.
You- Miss you too, H. Raincheck? I feel a migraine coming on. Love you!
Harry- Love you too, Bitsy. Feel better
Feeling guilty, you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand and try to ignore the new ache in your chest.
Despite your efforts, you scrunch your eyes closed and finally feel the hot sting of tears trail slowly down your cheeks.
You feel terrible for lying to your closest friend, the catalyst to finally unleashing the breakdown that had been sitting inside of you for the past few days as nothing but frustration and restlessness.
Now though, full blown sobs wreck your body as you hug your pillow whilst simultaneously burying your face into it, muffling the sound of your whimpering. You lay like that for a while, your chest rising and falling with every whine and sorry moan.  
Finally, you take a series of deep inhales and long exhales to steady your breathing in a vain attempt to calm down.
What the fuck is wrong with me? you think as you wipe the leftover tears from your cheeks, sitting up against the headboard of your bed. 
You take a long sip of water from your nightstand to wash away the disgusting taste left in your mouth from your dramatic sobbing.
The ache in your chest feels duller and somewhat lighter after releasing the supressed tears that had previously left you feeling so suffocated.
Now though, the lesser anguish in your chest brings your attention to a new source of pain in your neck, and you curse yourself mentally for laying in bed all day to the point it resulted in making your body sore.
After giving in to the fact you really should move, you stretch your arms above your head and then lift away the duvet from your body, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly before sliding on your slippers sat on the floor beside you.
As you go to stand up, you hear a key in the lock of your door and your heart jumps into your throat. You listen for moment longer as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before realisation dawns on you.
“That fucker!” you whisper, discarding your slippers and leaping back under the duvet to feign being asleep.
Harry was the only person you’d ever given a spare key, so you could only assume his kind natured, stupid, perfect self, had gone out to buy you supplies to get you through your migraine and come to check on you. You should have known better than to lie to him about being sick.
The sound of the door softly closing tells you he’s now inside the flat, followed by him gently calling out your name. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter as your heart beats fast in your chest, trying helplessly to ignore your panic and relax your body in the hope to pass off as being genuinely asleep.
He knocks lightly on your bedroom door which is already propped open with a doorstop, and you hear the rustling of a bag that must contain the supplies he so thoughtfully brought to you. Your eyes sting with tears again, why does he have to be so good?
“Hey love, I’ve brought you some strong ass painkillers and some anti-sickness tablets. How are you feeling?” he asks in a quiet voice; you can detect concern in his tone and that alone makes you want to cry all over again.
You’re in half a mind to ignore him and pretend you’re in a deep sleep so he’ll leave but with the knowledge that he’s right there... that he’s in reach and he could hold you… maybe he could make it okay.
You breathe a shaky sigh and reluctantly open your eyes and sit up, sliding back against the headboard again as you look at him, a new kind of concern immediately washing over his features.
He rushes over to perch on the bed beside you, his pretty face painted with worry as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’ve been crying... is it that bad? Or...” he trails off, looking between your red, puffy eyes as if doing so would decode what was wrong. “Love, what is it? Talk to me”
He can see through your lie now, something you never do, which fills his own heart with heaviness. Ignoring the sting of knowing you lied to him, he awaits your answer, knowing not to press you if something was so wrong to the point you felt the need to mislead him.
So, he doesn’t prompt and push, instead he rubs your shoulder softly as he waits for a reply, his soft green eyes on yours, hopeful you’ll meet his gaze.
“M’not good, Har” you reply shakily, biting your lip to keep it from quivering because the last thing you wanted was to become a sobbing mess in front of him. You shake your head as you continue to look down, more damned tears dropping into your lap despite you willing them to stay away, your finger now absently trailing the wet droplets they leave on your leg.
“Hey, hey look at me.. look at me” he soothes gently, both of his hands now on your shoulders urging you to lift your head to meet his gaze again. You do so reluctantly, and he lifts one hand to cup your face and brush away the hot tears on your cheek.
He offers you a pained smile, one that clearly shows his care for you, but the warmth in his eyes as he scans over your face pushes you to wrap your arms around him, gentle sobs immediately leaving your body again.
He pulls you gladly into a tight hug as his hand reaches up to the back of your head and moves in soft strokes over your hair as you breathe in the scent that is so Harry, so... home.
His eyebrows knit together in response to the twist in his heart upon hearing you cry, feeling your body shake softly as the tears escape. He continues his soft stroking to the back of your head, wanting so badly to take whatever it is away, to make everything better.
“Shhh, I got you. M’not going anywhere. I got you” he soothes, squeezing his own eyes shut to try pull himself together so he can be there for you how you need him. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft in your ear and his hold on you still tight.
You shake your head as much as you can in his vice like grip.
“Wouldn’t even know what to say. Truly. I don’t know why I’m in such a rut.” you say honestly between sniffles. That was the most frustrating thing about the past week. There was no trigger, no cause.
Foolishly you shut yourself away, the answer to your problem being so obvious now you were in his company- in his arms. Your eyes prick again at the thought, that dull throb in your chest again making itself present.
“Feel better because you’re with me though- I shouldn’t have lied to you- I should’ve let you- shouldn’t have told you- I-” your rambling is cut off by Harry quietly shushing you and resuming his careful stroking of your hair. God, how does he make everything okay?
“Shh, I get it, s’okay… it’s okay. I got you, yeah? M’right here, always right here” he coos in your ear, and you nod your head fervently because of course you know.
Right here felt like the only place on earth. The best place on earth.
You both remain in silence like that for a while longer until Harry slowly pulls himself away from you, leaning back but keeping his hand firmly on your thigh, making a point of keeping some physical contact with you.
At last, you finally look at him properly, smiling awkwardly, a smile that he returns with that boyish, one-sided smirk of his that you’ve grown to love so much.
The comfortable silence between you both is complimented by the rain still hammering down outside.
You turn your head to glance out of the window at the thick droplets bouncing off the glass, then turn back to Harry, who has an amused expression on his face.
He’s the one giving you an awkward smile now, to which you return a puzzled look.
“What?” you ask suspiciously.
He brings his hand up to cover his smile, which is growing bigger by the second. He’s clearly trying not to laugh, but refusing to let you in on the joke, so you poke his ribs to further prompt him to answer.
“S’nothing” he laughs, to which you raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, causing him to laugh again.
You cross your arms whilst feigning an annoyed look, stubbornly waiting for him to kindly share whatever it is that he’s seemingly finding so funny.
“It’s just uhh, when- when was the last time you brushed your hair?” he asks sheepishly, clearly not wanting to embarrass you but finding your lack of effort appearance wise humorous.
Your hand instantly lifts to the messy bun that had initially been propped on the top of your head two days ago. By now it was hanging low at the back of your head, probably a matted mess.
You groan and hit him softly with the pillow behind you, and he raises his arms to defend himself, resuming his laughter as a reluctant smile makes its way onto your face.
“I mean, you look great, but uhh, hairbrushes… great inventions” he taunts, but you can hear his smile so clearly in his voice that it sends warmth through your chest.
“Funny.” you quip, kicking his knee with your socked foot. “please, continue making fun of my misery” you joke, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“Okay, okay, I take it back” he laughs musically, and you purse your lips in a bashful pout, eyeing him fondly as he readjusts his position on the bed to sit cross legged in front of you.
The comfortable silence resumes, Harrys fingers absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles at your ankle.
“Seriously though, want me to brush your hair?” he asks, your heart fluttering at the gesture.
Honestly, the idea of having to brush your hair over the past two days was a task that had seemed entirely overwhelming, hence the state of your bun. And now that it was probably a matted mess, it was a job you were happy to give to someone else- someone who seemed to understand entirely instead of sitting here judging you.
You look down at your hands in your lap, half embarrassed before nodding your head.
“If you don’t mind.. thank you, H” you reply, giving him a grateful smile.
He returns it knowingly, standing to grab the hairbrush from your vanity and sitting back down. He motions with his hand for you to turn around with your back to him, which you do so obediently, feeling pre-emptively better knowing one basic self-care need was being taken care of.
Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.
He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.
His fingers are soft and careful with your strands, and his use of the brush is even gentler, taking his time to properly ensure every piece of hair is free from knots. The delicate touch of his fingers brushing the back of your neck causes you to let  out a gentle sigh, and you unintentionally sink back into his touch, contentedly.
By the time Harry has completely detangled your hair you’re pressed flush against his back, not noticing he’d finished as he continues to stroke and run his hands through your hair. He observes you warmly, noting how your eyes have softly closed and your breathing has shallowed.
As much as Harry was loving the entire situation, mainly the fact he’d seemingly managed to calm you down and help you relax, his legs were going numb as hell and he needed to move you from your position that had you practically seated in his lap.
With a small squeeze to your shoulder, he breathes gently in your ear “M’done love. All done.”
You open your eyes, not even realising they’d closed, running your hand through your hair and revelling in how soft the stands now felt. You move away from Harry rather reluctantly, turning back to face him as he stands up from the bed.
“Thank you, Har. I- honestly I feel so much better, really.. thank you” you smile gratefully, your heart warm in your chest and full of such tenderness for your best friend.
You would never get over how truly wonderful he is.
“S’nothing, promise. I like helping you relax. Makes me feel good too” he confesses, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
You both exchange a look of fondness for each other, your eyes locking for an extended period of time. The exchange is warm, with a weight that is full of unsaid things but it’s also a look that needs no words- you both have a profound care for each other, that much has always been clear, but the longer you’re looking at him, the more your own gaze becomes one of longing.
Harry notices it too, his own eyes seeming to look deeper into yours as the warmth in them turns to something more heated.
You see it, you feel it, its thick in the air and you have to look away.
In return, Harry drops his eyes from your face and clears his throat as he fumbles with the hairbrush still in his hand.
He reaches to put it on the nightstand next to your forgotten pot of instant noodles which he picks up with a sigh. The mood instantly shifts back into one of playful friendliness as he holds them out to you with one eyebrow raised.
“This is what you’ve been eating?” he asks. “or not eating I should say. No wonder you’re so depressed” he jokes before walking out of the bedroom and into the open plan kitchen-living room, instant noodles in hand.
With him out of the room you place your head in your hands trying to calm down your thoughts and steady your heart rate. When did it start beating so quickly?
You’re brought out of your thoughts before you can even begin to overthink the look you’d both shared by the sound of the tap running from the bathroom down the hall from your room.
You step out of your bed and walk towards the source of the noise and are greeted by the sight of Harry running you a bath.
He notices you standing in the doorway and gives you a soft smile before walking over to you and gripping the sides of your arms gently.
“I’m gonna go get some real food while you take a bath, okay? I wont be long” he promises, pressing a parting kiss to your cheek before leaving, your heart quickening and heat rushing to your face.
You watch after him mindlessly, your fingers lifting to the spot he’d just kissed so casually, the feeling of his lips still lingering beneath your touch.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment, your hearing dulled, and sense of touch heightened, before a panicked instinct to check the running taps pulls you from your yearning trance.
You turn them off quickly, before removing your clothing and sinking into the soothing warmth of the water and willing it to wash you of these muddled feelings and flustered responses to Harry’s demeanour and affections.
You urge yourself not to overthink his kiss to your cheek, remembering all the times he’d kissed the top of your head whilst hugging you goodbye, usually always followed with some kind of joke about how he can only reach the top of your head so easily because you’re so much smaller than him.
“See ya later Bitsy” you recall his voice and think of how most of those situations ended. Warm but only friendly.
You sink beneath the water to wet your hair, dragging your hands over your face to wash away the grime from your face and along with it any thoughts of Harrys kiss being anything more than a friendly parting.
What you refuse to fully acknowledge is the way your heart leaps at the idea of it being more.
You finish bathing, before wrapping yourself in a towel, feeling so much better for being forced into taking care of yourself.
By the time you’re dressed in a fresh set of pyjama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you leave your room to see Harry dishing up the food he left to retrieve.
He looks up from portioning a steaming bowl of ramen and gives you a warm, happy smile.
“You look like you’re feeling a little better?” he asks hopefully, to which you nod, returning his smile shyly.
“Much better, thank you. Mmmh, food smells amazing.” You sigh, reaching to grab the bowl he holds out for you before sitting side by side on the sofa.
You eat together in a relaxed silence, one that offers tender glances at each other and periodic laughs as you both try hopelessly to eat ramen noodles gracefully.
Harry finishes first, and you follow not far behind him before setting your bowl on the coffee table in front of you both.
You feel his eyes, on you but can’t force yourself to move your eyes from your hands in your lap. The silence suddenly feels heavy, you don’t even have to look at him to know his stare holds so much weight.
Its impossible to ignore. You feel it.
Your stomach is fluttering under his gaze and your mind is racing.
In an attempt to take the newly tense and awkward edge out of the silence that had now settled, you clear your throat, but it only draws attention to the tension that hangs thick in the air between you both.
You chance a look at him, his green eyes fixed on you with an expression you can’t read.
“Stop it” you whisper, not chancing your voice cracking.
His face is soft, but his brow is tense, his eye contact unwavering.
“Stop what?” he speaks softly.
You inhale slowly, your eyes closing before releasing a shaky exhale.
“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t know what it means” you say.
He leans closer, only slightly, but the growing intimacy of your proximity is enough to quicken your heart rate all over again.
“Looking at you like what, love?” he feigns innocence, his expression still just as achingly warm.
You can barely bring yourself to answer, still trying to convince yourself you must be misreading the entire situation, that he can’t be looking at you with this intense desire, so gently, so.. so..
“Longingly...” you whisper.
His expression softens, his eyes leaving yours to delicately trail over the features of your face, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as his focus stops at your lips before cupping his hand at your cheek.
“I can’t, love. Because I can’t tell you how long I have longed for this.” he whispers.
Your eyes shut tight at his confession, that familiar warmth radiating through your whole chest as the entire world seems to stop spinning again.
When you open your eyes, they threaten to spill over with tears, and Harry knowingly caresses the side of your cheek with his thumb.
You can’t breathe.
“Me too” you utter almost silently.
Your admission sparks the most beautiful, genuine smile you’ve ever seen Harry wear, and he touches his forehead to yours with his hand gently cradling the back of your head.
“Well, thank fuck for that” he jokes, and you laugh breathily before pulling back to finally meet his eyes with a new confidence.
He looks between each of your eyes before refocusing his gaze on your lips. Before you can even acknowledge the excitement blooming in your chest, his mouth is on yours.
And it’s soft. It’s slow. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
He pulls you into his lap and deepens the kiss, causing you to whimper into his mouth as your hands fist into his t-shirt, desperately trying to anchor yourself to him, not wanting to lose him now that you finally have him.
His hand moves from the back of your head, trailing down your back to gently cup your ass, your core clenching in utter desire in response.
He pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, his hand gliding softly beneath your t-shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach, up towards your ribs suggestively.
“I know you’ve spent all day in bed, love.” he breathes. “But would you mind if I took you back there?”
Your head dizzies with a new lust. You scan over his face as he pulls you down against his lap almost desperately, his expression showing nothing but his adoration and unsatiated need for you.
And now, you can think of anywhere else you’d rather be.
“..yes please.”
594 notes · View notes
jonghoslvt · 2 months
Text
Two distant strangers (Wooyoung)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— “I know you don’t speak my language but I love the way she’s talking to me.” —
Synopsis: At a Club you somehow hit it off with an Idol who doesn’t know much English, but despite the language barrier you both feel the tension and don’t waste anytime exploring it.
Pairing: IdolWooyoung! X Female!Reader
Notes: language barrier, unprotected sex (wrap it up.), fingering, Idol Wooyoung, making out, quickie sex, creampie, little dirty surprise, if you get it you get it, use of the word “Jagiya”
This is a short one, hopefully it holds you guys over while I get these other fics done.
Wooyoung’s Korean is addressed in red
Readers Korean is addressed in pink, hope that helps
_____________________________________________
He wouldn’t stop looking at you and you wouldn’t stop looking at him. Both of you waiting to see who would approach first and in the end he ends up walking to you before you could even so much as react. He had this confidence to him, the scent of his cologne engulfing you as he smiled, the blaring music and crowd of the club barely seeming to bother him. “Look who decided to come over,” your words had him stuck, he heard you speaking, saw your lips moving but didn’t know what you said and so when he didn’t react you took notice. You wondered why he didn’t say anything back, clearly he came over with intentions to talk to you so why was he so silent. “you gonna say anything?” Another look of pure confusion on his face as he goes red. “Mm sorry um..my English..isn’t well.” You sat there dumbfounded, you’d never been approached by someone who spoke a different language but judging by his looks he was Korean and you knew a little bit of that. “But I will say,” he thinks about how to say what he’s feeling and although some people would be embarrassed his confidence hadn’t faltered a bit, he was determined to speak his mind. “You’re very beautiful.” You couldn’t help the blush that spread across you cheek as you moved closer to him, a hand pressing on his lower abdomen. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He gives a look of surprise as you speak to him in the limited Korean you knew, the tone of your voice turning him on in ways he did not imagine. “Your Korean is really good.” He replies, but in English, he was unaware of how much you knew and wasn’t going to push it, the tension was too strong right now and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the vibe. His hand slips onto your lower back, pulling you closer, your lips practically almost touching. “Thank you..” Wooyoung chuckles, biting his lip and looking down at yours “wanna go to the bathroom for some fun?” You nod desperately, the both of you wasting no time in linking arms and heading over to scope the bathroom out, upon seeing that it was empty and the coast was clear you two went inside and locked the door behind you.
You both locked eyes, feeling hot, like you were telepathically communicating, so much want and need, his eyes then dropped down to your lips where he slowly closed the gap between you two. The kiss immediately started off heavy, Wooyoung running his fingers through your hair, sometimes they would linger around the back of your neck which had you wishing he would just grab you and take the lead. You’re surprised when he practically reads your mind, your eyes said it all, your body language was obvious and he wasn’t going to ignore it for a second, besides you both had limited time before someone came knocking to take a piss. Woo grips the back of your neck, his tongue sliding deeper into your mouth as his free hand slides down your leg, pushing your dress up and making you lean back on the sink. He rubs a finger over the wet spot on your panties and grunts, dick twitching in his pants “Jagiya you’re soaked..just for me..” you whimper as his finger slips inside of your underwear, sliding between your folds a couple of times just to feel you and you suck in a breath when they push past your walls as deep as they could. He preps you for a bit, placing kisses on your neck and fingering your cunt as his index finger rubs around your swollen clit, the music really helped drown out the pathetic sounds of your moans.
“Can I..” you tried to think of how to say it but your mind was stuck so you just had to say it in English, it was simple anyways so he should get it. “Touch you?” He smiles widely and nods, finding it cute that you tried so hard to communicate with him. “Of course baby.” Slowly to tease him you unbutton his pants and take all the time in the world to pull them down, Woo bites his lip and the pace of his fingers pick up, causing you to clench around them “ah..” he chuckles “that’s what you get for being so naughty.” He kept speaking in his language, knowing that you didn’t understand too much of it and that was a good thing because boy was he being absolutely inappropriate. You push his pants down enough for his cock to spring free and your fingers brush against the tip, it twitches underneath you, his slow breaths etched into your mind. “Want it now..” and that he obviously understood and that rewired his entire brain “needy..so needy.” He says, tone so deep you could feel it in your stomach, it gave you butterflies. He turns you around so that you’re facing the mirror, a hand cupping your chin so that you couldn’t look away “keep still.” He spreads your legs, his cock feeling around to find your hole and when you let him know that he was pressing against it he slowly pushed forward, the stretch of his thick cock driving you crazy.
“So good Jagiya, so so good.” You tried to look away from your reflection but his grip on you was so firm that you couldn’t and had to face your lewd expression head on. Once he’s as deep as he can go he starts moving, and already you can feel the buildup in your stomach, you’re close because he’d already been stimulating you before he went in, and his cock brushing over your sweet spot only made it come quicker. Now that you’re in this position you realize that neither of you even exchanged names, and yet here you two are fucking. Wooyoung can’t help but look down, watching as you sucked him in so eagerly, the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, if you two weren’t in a super loud club someone was definitely bound to hear. “Mm close..so close.” Your walls gripped Wooyoung so tight, he swore he’d spill inside of you so quick but he managed to hold back. “You can come darling, it’s okay.” His pace became more aggressive as his fingers pinch and prod at your clit which only encouraged your orgasm to come quicker and your cries of bliss and hand pushing his fingers away let him know that you came. “Good girl.”
Looking in the mirror Wooyoung could see your fucked out face, his cock twitching inside of you as a response, he was close himself and it didn’t take long for him to spill his load inside of you, slowly he pulled out but when his cum started spilling out of your pretty pussy he couldn’t help but remain hard, pressing his cock back into you to keep his first load inside. The feeling of it sloshing around inside of you was a serotonin boost, Wooyoung had completely lost control, leaning against your back and ramming you over the sink, it dug into your stomach but you didn’t care, you just got lost in the feeling of his cock rearranging your guts. “Oh fuck..fuck..mm gonna come again..please.” You were shaking, drool pooling on the sides of your mouth, mascara running down your face as tears stained your cheeks, that language barrier didn’t mean shit when he was giving it to you this good. Both of you came at the same time, Wooyoung letting out a desperate moan, into your mouth as the two of you kissed, god you could go several rounds but not here and hell you’ll probably never see him again, maybe that was for the best.
Slowly he pulled out, and fixed himself up, helping you clean yourself off. There wasn’t much you could do about the running mascara so you had to face the music and leave the bathroom looking half fucked out. Embarrassingly as expected there was a bit of a line forming and it was obvious they knew what you two were getting up to, Wooyoung didn’t let it bother him though. “That was..good.” You both walked outside and he let you know that he was only here because his group was on tour and he happened to have a free day but he’d be returning back to South Korea pretty soon. It was disappointing to know that he didn’t live here but hell you’re not mad, he gave you mind blowing Sex and who knows maybe in the future you can thank him for it.
688 notes · View notes