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#someone else that’s not me to decide so pls let me know what i should do
indigogirled · 2 years
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THEY LIMITED MY POSTS
imagine being so annoying TUMBLR STAFF tells you to shut the fuck up
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jarofstyles · 5 months
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face sitting with shy y/n and confident, cocky n loving Harry pls 🥸
YES YES PLZ
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“C’mon darling.” His coo was soft. “Sit down.” Hands held her hips as she was teasing him without meaning to. Her soft cunt hovering over his mouth, making it water as he tried to ease her nerves.
“You promise you’ll tell me if you can’t breathe?” She peeped, looking down at his eyes. Her hands held the top of the headboard, wanting someone to steady herself on. If she felt weak when he was licking her out when he was laying between her legs, she was scared of collapsing on top of him.
“Mhm. But I don’t mind, baby. S’a dream for me to go out that way.” Death by pussy. Very much appropriate for him, if they were being honest. He was a needy man, a fiend for getting his mouth on her and neither of them could refute it. “You know your safe words, my darling. Just sit that pretty ass down and let me taste you.”
When she took a hint too long, Harry decided to take it for himself. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her down and let his mouth latch on to her clit, getting the most unladylike squeak from Y/N that melded into a moan. As soon as he began to suck, to lick on her, her brain was empty.
This was the part she loved so much. Letting go of everything else in her life and focusing on the pleasure- but it was still hard sometimes. Keeping quiet the best she could, she muffled herself as her head fell back on her shoulders, accidentally jerking her hips when his teeth grazed her clit. It should hurt, but it didn’t. If anything it felt heavenly? A new sensation for her.
“Cmon, baby. Let me hear you.” He pulled away from her cunt, peering up from underneath her. “Move those hips. Fuck my mouth. I want you to use my tongue and make yourself cum f’me.” He crooned. “You can do it, baby. I know how much you love to cum on my tongue. Show me how much you want it.”
His shy, sweet girl. She was so hesitant, nervous with new things but he knew for a fact she was interested in this- so he stepped in again. Helping her further, he gripped her hips and rocked her slightly with his strength. Letting her move on top of him, showing how good it could feel. Y/N, thankfully, was a fast learner.
It took little time for her to catch on, slow movements of her hips as she let out tiny little moans that he loved, drinking right from her cunt. Burying his tongue in it, letting himself get sopping wet. If there was one place he was confident, it was in between his best girl’s thighs. He knew how to pleasure her. “There we go, darling. Get what you want on my tongue.” His hand moved to her ass, giving it a gentle swat. Y/N ate it up, moaning at the sting as she rocked on his tongue. Harry loved being here, getting sticky and wet from her pleasure. Being the source of those tiny moans she was still a bit afraid to bleat out, he would work her until she was begging to cum- but he couldn’t deprive her of the pleasure she didn’t even know existed. “I know, sweetheart. Perfect little pussy gets all sensitive when I lick into her… but that’s my job.” He pressed a kiss to her clit, making her shiver. “Just want to keep you cumming for me.”
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earthtooz · 2 years
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she/her pronouns cuz i'm feelin it. just gojo lovin' his partner.
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"if you're going to ask for dating tips from anyone, don't let it be gojo," megumi mutters.
itadori raises his eyebrows in genuine surprise at his classmate's comment, "why? he and y/n have been together for years!"
megumi places down his bottle, grabbing his sword which he put down after gojo called an impromptu break from combat. why was that? well, it's because he saw you walking towards him and decided nothing else was more important.
the duo watches as you approach their teacher in the middle of jujutsu high's expansive field, gojo's mood turning even chirpier with your arrival. there's nothing short of a big grin on your expression too, but it drops the moment the white-haired sorcerer places dramatic, unabashed kisses all over your face. the way his arms wrap around you is a telltale sign of the copious amount of love he holds for you.
megumi sighs at the sight he knows all too well- there's no room to be disgusted anymore, "he got lucky."
"that's a little harsh, fushiguro," nobara pipes in from the other side of the dark-haired who merely shrugs, "although in retrospect, it is unbelievable that someone like him landed someone as amazing as y/n."
itadori cuts in momentarily, "i guess it's cause our teacher has game, don't disrespect him."
"he begged y/n to go on a date with him for multiple consecutive years. i remember he ended up on his knees when she finally agreed."
nobara hummed, "that makes sense."
the first years couldn't hear what you were saying but they could definitely see the way you were currently scolding gojo (jokingly?) and the way he held onto your every word. he says something that gets you flustered and without another moment wasted, you leave him behind to go up to the first years.
gojo trails behind you, taking his place behind you with his arm around your waist.
"y/n!" itadori greets enthusiastically, "hello!"
the three wave at you.
"hi yuji, megumi, nobara, what's up?" you ask with a polite smile.
"we're in the middle of combat training but gojo," nobara says, stressing her teacher's name with a pointed tone, "got distracted."
with an apologetic look, you murmur, "that's my bad, sorry. i'll let you get back to training-"
"actually, i was hoping for some combat tips from you," megumi interrupts.
"me too!" nobara exclaims, a glimmer in her eyes that only seems to manifest when you're the one that's teaching her. that fact definitely doesn't hurt gojo.
the special grade sorcerer sighs, "go ahead, just steal my students like you did with my heart."
you laugh lightly, "sorry 'toru, i'll cook your favourite tonight, 'kay?"
he nods, absolutely enchanted by you, "m'kay."
itadori remains silent whilst gojo watches you walking away, going over to the two younger sorcerers instead.
"what bliss," sighs gojo.
"how did you get y/n to date you?"
"oh, i still can't believe i got the first date!" gojo exclaims, a little too happily for the words he just confessed, "let alone eight years!"
"eight? weren't you classmates before that too?"
"yup, been lovin' y/n since second year!"
itadori takes another moment to examine how awestruck his teacher is whilst watching you guide megumi and nobara, somehow knowing their cursed techniques better than they do. he wonders if he should have gone with you too.
"that's kinda sad."
"yeah, but i don't think i have anything to be upset about. she could kick my ass."
itadori glances at his teacher with a confused expression, "but she has before."
"exactly!"
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hi hi if u enjoyed that pls pls PLS reblog!!!!!!!!! it seriously helps me out so much (this applies to other blogs too just PLEASE, it doesn't matter if you're a small or big account, reblogging really helps out!)
hope to see u around my blog <3
- earf
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princesstaeille · 4 months
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Ob(li)vious
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summary: taeyong is a really sweet guy, fun-loving, and a treat to be around. he gets along with everyone, everyone who isn’t you. you’re determined to change that.
pairing(s): taeyong x f!reader
genre(s): office!au, fluff, angst
warning(s): miscommunication, self-esteem issues (pls let me know if there are more)
wc: 3.7k
notes: this one goes out to all my rbf girlies ;-;. also inspired by this post. if you enjoyed reading, pls like/reblog and comment! thank you xxx
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Taeyong looks away from his computer and at the stack of papers that landed on his desk with a startling thwack. His gaze trails from the documents to the woman who stares down at him firmly, jaw set, and lips pinched into a tight line.
“I finished the report for you since you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” You say. “It’s due tomorrow, in case you forgot.”
You tell Taeyong this in the most nonchalant tone you can muster, ignoring the warm sensation in your face that almost feels like burning and the overall spiking body temperature that makes you wonder if someone decided to turn on the heat. You want to play it cool. Be the friendly, outgoing coworker who completes favors for others without prompting and brings a smile to another’s face, much like Taeyong himself. You want to give him that same kind of feeling that he gives to everyone else so badly, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him when he begins to…shake?
What? Why is he shaking?
“S-sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”
Sorry? That isn’t what you want to hear. You want to hear him thank you and gaze at you with gratitude sparkling in his eyes and that same sweet little smile he wears when he jokes with others in the break room. But you get an apology instead and no eye contact, and why is he shaking?!
Taeyong’s trembling only seems to worsen, and he looks at you wide with those big brown boba eyes. His mouth opens and shuts as he searches for a reply. “I-I guess I had too much coffee this morning, haha,” he eventually stutters and tries to smile, but all that results is a flimsy grimace.
Shoot. You didn’t mean to say that out loud, much less shout at him. But your gaze hardens as you watch his hands tremble, and you scoff, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as you return to your desk.
Stupid coffee.
“Uh oh, someone’s upset.”
You look up at Jihyo as she sets her lunch down beside you. Joy sits across from the two of you and nods in agreement. They look at you expectantly.
Heaving a sigh, you lift your head out of your arms and sit up completely. “It’s,” you pause and scan the cafeteria for wandering ears before looking back at Jihyo and Joy, “it’s Bubble Tea.”
“Again?” Joy asks and rolls her eyes, “I told you to just talk to him.”
You glare at her suggestion. “You say that like it’s so easy, but every time I try, he acts as if he’s seen a hideous troll and starts quivering in his boots.”
Jihyo snorts and takes a bite into her sandwich while watching you and Joy bicker. She notices how the scowl on your lips stretches, and your brows grow close. She wonders for a second whether she should separate the two of you before you can get any hits on each other. Then it dawns on her.
“Your face is the problem!”
“Excuse you?!”
Joy cackles.
Jihyo clears her throat and shakes her head. “Not like you’re ugly. You’re just…stern.”
“Mean.” Joy teases, and you glare at her once more.
“Your strong will physically shows itself. You have an assertive face.” Jihyo says proudly.
“You have RBF.” Joy clarifies.
“Okay…what should I do then?”
Joy perks up and claps her hands excitedly. “Dye your hair. Purple. Or blue.”
“Maybe change up your style. Wear something cute.” Jihyo suggests.
A frown settles on your lips as you study your current outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”
“It’s just so…serious. Like you mean business.”
“We work in an office.”
“And?”
You shake your head and steal a chip from Jihyo’s lunch, popping it into your mouth and ignoring her offended gasp. “I don’t think I’ll do that…it’s too much. I want him to like me, not me with purple hair and a new wardrobe.”
Both of them nod understandingly. “Of course,” Jihyo begins, “no point in chasing after someone who doesn’t want you as is.”
“Exactly. Don’t settle for a man who can’t handle your ‘assertive’ facial expressions! Bubble Tea’ll come around if he knows what’s good for him.” Joy winks.
The next day passes quicker than expected, and you already find yourself parting ways with Jihyo and Joy as you walk back to the main office. There are still a few minutes left of lunch, which explains why you see some of your coworkers huddled around Taeyong’s desk.
You hear a few murmurs and giggles that interrupt them and slowly approach the group to see what the fuss is about. 
“So she’s completely oblivious. Just humming to herself as she gets ready to ski. Meanwhile, a massive grizzly bear,” Taeyong pauses and spreads his arms wide, “is just chasing her down, and she has no clue.” 
Everyone laughs in disbelief, and they match Taeyong’s wide-eyed look. 
You observe quietly, basking in the warm, carefree atmosphere from a few feet away. Then you remember a scene from the drama you watched last night, the one where the girl tells the guy a joke that’s entirely too cheesy. Still, he laughs anyway and looks down at her endearingly. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of the same happening to you.
So, you clear your throat and gain everyone’s attention. “Good thing it wasn’t a polar bear,” you say with a smile, “otherwise we’d be hearing this story on the news, haha.”
Crickets.
The smile on your lips falters when you’re met with silence and your coworkers’ looks that call you crazy. Guess they didn’t find it as funny as you did. You glance at Taeyong to gauge his reaction, but he acts like you’re not there, visibly tense and avoiding your gaze.
So, you go back to your desk.
Silence greets you as you walk through your apartment door, cold and lonely as always. You kick off your shoes and leave them strewn messily by the door, throwing your work bag down somewhere near them before making a tired stumble to the kitchen. 
It’s like muscle memory. Reach into the freezer and grab a meal (doesn’t matter which), rip off the cardboard seal and slit (or aggressively stab) the plastic film, and throw it in the mic for five minutes while you wrestle your way out of your white button-up and black high-waisted pants that are a bit too tight but make your legs look nice. 
You turn the TV to channel five, RV News with anchorwoman Bae Joohyun, and sit on the sofa with the piping hot tray in your lap, struggling to maneuver it so it won’t burn your thighs. You eat and stare at the raven-haired anchorwoman speaking about another corner store robbery gone wrong in that gentle honey voice of hers. She drones on about how the perpetrator used a water gun to intimidate the cashier. Still, you’re hardly listening as you wonder how someone can look so flawless, even on your grainy and broken 1986 Panasonic TV. Even the static fuzz that manages to peek through barely obstructs RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun’s ethereal beauty, and you wonder if she’s wearing a wig, hair so perfect with not a strand out of place. You wonder where she bought that lip tint as your teeth snag onto your own.
 Your dinner goes cold, but you don’t notice when you lock eyes with the Kokubu Yurie poster that hangs above your bed. You wonder, as you admire her soft gaze and stylish flare in that red, oversized blazer, you wonder if a sweet song and magical electric guitar riff is what’ll get Taeyong to look at you and finally sweep you off your feet like in all those cheesy dramas you love to watch.
The food in your mouth turns to a sandpapery mush. You sit and wonder if you could cook—if you could make a hot meal, fresh from the oven and not a grocery shelf—if the smell of a home-cooked meal made with love is enough to lead Taeyong to you. 
You wonder if you were more like all the leads in your favorite romances—timid, passive, unassuming—if you had a special twinkle in your eye or softer hair or a prettier smile, if that’s what it takes to enchant him like all the others. The food goes down your throat like gravel. You lose your appetite.
With a heavy sigh, you trudge your way through your bedtime routine and lie down, dreaming of a world where Taeyong doesn’t look at you like a deer in headlights.
Apprehensive eyes stare back at you as you study your appearance from your rearview mirror. Actually, those eyes stare at the bow clipped in your hair that you rummaged through your closet for; you weren’t even sure you had it. It’s a light peach bow, petite, with a white pearl at its center. It was cute enough, you decided at 5 AM when you were really contemplating buying box dye, but it was late and cold and you didn’t feel like getting robbed at water gunpoint, so you had to settle.
Your eyes flit to your lips, which are covered in a shimmery, sheer pink gloss you also found in your closet. You have to tell yourself multiple times not to chew on your lips, but at least they taste like strawberries.
You will away the uncertainty your reflection carries and sternly tell the knot in your stomach to unravel itself. Maybe this isn’t your usual look, but there’s nothing wrong with trying something new. You have nothing to lose, you think with firm resolve. But your fingers still tremble slightly as they smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit and reach for the car handle when you finally force yourself to walk into work.
Once you’re inside, you make a beeline for the break room. You can’t cook, but you can make a mean cup of tea, which has to count for something. The sweet scent of orange and honey wafts into the air once you lift the lid from the cup after steeping, and, with a satisfied smile, you march over to Taeyong’s desk.
You set the cup down and then straighten up. Your proud smile leaves you. You don’t want to be too obvious. “This should help with your shaking,” you state, then awkwardly add, “it’s my favorite.”
Taeyong’s eyes switch between you and the steaming tea beside him, wide with surprise. “Oh..! Thanks..?” He gingerly picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip.
You don’t mean to stare in anticipation, watching his every move, from how his fingers curl around the cup to how his tongue darts out to lick up any stray drops of tea. For a split second, you think you might’ve seen the corners of his mouth twitch upward, but you mistake it for a tremor. 
Taeyong pales at the sight of your clenched fist.
“Drink it all.” You demand, pointing firmly at the cup in his hands.
“Yes—yes, ma’am.” 
You ignore the crack in his voice as you stalk back to your desk. 
The day goes as usual: you finish some paperwork, send out a few emails, and take a few not-so-subtle glances at Taeyong over your bulky computer screen. You’re shocked when you make eye contact a few times, though he always looks away as soon as you do, eyes blown wide like a little doe. But you note that he finished the tea. All of it.
Soon, 7 PM rolls around, and you’re ready to clock out. RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun is waiting for you on channel five. You gather all your belongings and sling your work bag over your shoulder with a small sigh. The lights in the office are dim; most people have already left for home, but you stayed a bit longer to tie up some loose ends. You think you’re the only one still in the office until you notice a warm light coming from one of the desks across from you. 
Taeyong’s desk.
Biting the inside of your cheek only does so much to keep you from imagining this as a perfect moment from a romance drama starring you. You could stay and offer to help, get closer to the guy you’ve been after all this time, and finally have a chat, maybe exchange numbers! Or, you could go home and snuggle up in bed where Kokubu Yurie, your stuffed animals, and RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun wait listlessly to hear you complain about events that are unlikely to occur between you and your office crush, effectively saving you from any embarrassment and ultimately leaving you wondering ‘what if?’
“Hey, um…” you clear your throat as you approach Taeyong’s desk. “Need any help?”
His brown eyes look up at you briefly before returning to the hefty stack of papers before him, and he quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no! I–I got it, you don’t need to—to waste your time—”
Taeyong shuts up when an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you reach over to grab half the stack of papers. 
“I’m doing this half.” You say in a tone that leaves no room for argument, and all Taeyong can do is nod dumbly.
It’s mindless work, and the two of you complete it in silence, slowly whittling down the stack. You barely even notice how you sit beside each other, only a shoulder apart. 
“Hey.” You nudge Taeyong’s shin with the tip of your shoe. “Do you have a sticky note? One of the pages is missing.” You frown.
He doesn’t look up from his stack when he wordlessly hands you a stack of sticky notes. Cinnamoroll-themed sticky notes.
At first, you’re confused. Are…are these his? Did someone give them to him, like a child, or did he buy them with his own money? Your mouth gapes a little, but you're speechless. You draw a blank while the white, chubby puppy stares back at you.
“This…this is so cute.” You laugh, using your hand to cover the smile that spreads across your face. But then you notice the pen, the matching pen. “Oh my god, it writes in blue glitter ink…”
Taeyong glances up from the paper he’s scanning when he sees your shoulders shake from the corner of his eye. He initially thinks you’re crying, and his eyes fill with panic. But then he catches a glimpse of your upturned lips, and his breath hitches.
“...woah.”
“Hm?”
Taeyong finds himself smiling a bit, too. “I just…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”
You stare back at him with a bemused smile and tilt your head. Never seen you do what before? You stop writing on the sticky note when you realize what he means. He’s never seen you smile before or laugh. He’s never seen you express joy. Your smile quickly drops.
What did he think you were? A soulless monster?
A stern glare replaces any softness left in your gaze as you stare down Taeyong’s paling form.
You both go back to working in silence.
It’s close to 9 PM when you and Taeyong finish the paperwork. You stand up from your seat and get in a much-needed shoulder stretch, dreaming of your soft pillow waiting for you at home. Your eyes wander over to Taeyong, who quietly gathers his things and walks toward the elevator. You follow not too far behind.
There’s still an awkward silence that hovers as the two of you enter the elevator, but you don’t mind it much. You spent a whole two hours with Taeyong, just the two of you. Sure, you were completing some tedious and, quite frankly, pointless paperwork that no one else would read. Still, it’s the fact that you both were in a room alone together. In the dark. At night. Together.
You squeal, jump, and dance around your mind like a little schoolgirl, rocking back and forth on your heels. You don’t notice that, in reality, you’re burning a hole into the walls with the intensity of your glare.
And now, you think dreamily, you’re on the elevator together, heading home. Would you hold hands? Would he offer to drive you to your apartment? Would you, maybe…kiss?
All these questions run through your mind one after the other, and you suppress the urge to squeal aloud. You lean over and peer at Taeyong with a small smile when you notice…that he’s huddled in the corner opposite of you. His eyes are glued to the wall beside him as if it’s the most marvelous thing in the world, and he refuses to look at you.
So, no kiss.
“Do you really find me that unattractive?” You note how he immediately flinches at the sound of your voice, and something inside you breaks.
“...what?”
“You won’t even look at me. Am I that ugly?”
The question prompts Taeyong to reluctantly acknowledge your presence. His brows furrow.
A humorless laugh escapes you as you shift from foot to foot. “I’ve…I’ve been trying to get your attention.” You speak with an exasperated sigh and nervous swallow, “I really like you and thought I was being pretty obvious, but you always cower in fear whenever I walk into the room.” You laugh again weakly, this time at how desperate you sound.
Taeyong resembles a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he searches for a reply. “I—I thought you hated me.”
 “Is that why you thought I couldn’t laugh or smile?” You ask defensively.
“Not around me, no.”
“...oh.
I don’t. Hate you, I mean. I really don’t.”
The silence returns, more palpable now, and you can’t help but feel a little stupid. The elevator ding! interrupts your thoughts of self-pity, signaling that you’ve reached the first floor.
The doors slowly open, and Taeyong moves to leave first, but he stops in the doorway and, without glancing back, quietly wishes you “good night.”
You catch your reflection in the closing elevator doors. Your eyes drift to the bow in your hair and the gloss on your lips, and you deflate with a sigh.
Crabby, red eyes glare back at you from your rearview mirror. This time, there’s no petite, light peach bow in your hair for your eyes to fiddle with. You kept the pink gloss, though. You look cute wearing it.
 With your jaw set and lips pinched into a tight line, your so-called ‘RBF’ is so strong that you intimidate yourself a little. At least your scowl tastes like strawberries.
When you walk into the office, you decide you won’t bother with Taeyong anymore. You sit down at your desk and get to work. It’s pointless to keep up with this childish crush, you tell yourself. You also didn’t see him at his desk and wouldn’t be surprised if he quit because of you, not that you cared.
You reach for your cup of tea and let the sweet smell waft into your nose, humming in delight as you take a sip.
Wait.
You didn’t make this.
Taeyong looks away just as your eyes flit up to look at him. He coughs and frowns as if remembering something, then meets your gaze with a sheepish smile.
“Thought I’d return the favor,” he says with a slight shrug. “Also, you’re right. This flavor’s pretty good.”
Once again, you’re speechless. You have to remember to swallow the tea in your mouth before letting your jaw drop because Taeyong, the same guy who tried merging with the elevator wall out of his fear of you, is smiling at you. Is speaking to you without shaking.
And his smile only grows at the sight of your dumbfounded expression. He leaves you there, dazed, and walks away with a chuckle.
Jihyo takes a bite from her salad and chews slowly, eyes locked on you in deep concentration. She watches as you quietly hum to yourself. It's probably another city pop song. She notes there’s something off about you, but she can’t quite place it. Her gaze hardens, and she peers at you a bit closer.
“…are you wearing lip gloss?”
You look up from your lunch and nod, a faint smile on your shimmery, pink lips.
“Alright, what’s going on?” Jihyo throws her hands up in resignation.
You glance between her and Joy with questioning eyes. “What?”
“Don’t play coy with us.” Joy shakes her head and points her chopsticks at you. “Your attitude has completely changed between this morning and now. Just a few hours ago, you looked dead-set on murder, and now you’ve got this dumb grin on your face.”
You scoff and look away from them, waving off their suspicions. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try forcing your lips into a straight line.
“You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”
“Be quiet.”
Jihyo rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands together, a grave look on her face as she leans in. “She told Bubble Tea.”
“Ugh, finally.” Joy groans in relief. “So you’re dating now?”
“I genuinely have no clue what you’re talking about.” You deny but refuse to look either woman in the eye. Instead, you glance at your wrist and gasp. “Seems we’ve run out of time, ladies. See you tomorrow.” You rush your words while throwing away your trash and dash for the stairs.
“You’re not even wearing a watch!” Joy accuses.
“They grow up so fast.” You faintly hear Jihyo sigh.
They clamber after you, yelling teases and congratulations that earn them a couple of weird looks, but you don’t bother to stop. They follow you all the way back to your desk even though they work on the other side of the building.
“What’d you do, scream at him?” Joy asks. “You think that’s his type of thing?”
“Would you hush?” You push her playfully, eyes nervously glancing around the room, hoping no one else heard that.
“I’m so proud of you.” Jihyo wipes away an invisible tear. “I knew you could do it.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing like that happened. We just…talked.”
“Like I told you to do in the first place?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” you say and sit down, your shoulders sagging slightly at the thought. You prepare to return to work and reach for a file but freeze. There’s a sticky note on your desk. A Cinnamoroll-themed sticky note.
Gingerly bringing it up to your eyes, you, Jihyo, and Joy read what’s written in blue glitter ink. 
It’s a phone number. 
Let’s get to know each other better :)
- L. TY
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thank you so much for reading! please leave a like and a comment. reblogs are appreciated too!
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myouicieloz · 8 months
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Sunday afternoon shenanigans
Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader
Synopsis: you were having a Sunday off at the dorm and you were bored out of your mind when you remember Ningning’s vibrator hidden in one of her drawers. you’ve decided to have some fun, after all, but of course Giselle never knocks.
Warnings: smut? I guess. dom!giselle x sub!reader.
Word count: 3.3k
Notes: I HAVE RETURNED MY BELOVEDS. this is my first time ever writing/posting something like this… I was so embarrassed I swear to God. but I did have fun, too! I hope you like it and if there’s anything wrong pls tell me so I can fix it. I won’t check for any errors or mistakes or else I’ll just be too embarrassed and delete it all so enjoy!! luv u kisses. also i wrote vibrator bc I didn’t want to write dildo. so imagine what you will.
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Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3
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It was a slow Sunday at the dorm. Karina and Winter had gone out shopping and Ningning was in China on one of her solo schedules, which left you and Giselle alone, all bored and tedious. You’ve been staring at your room’s ceiling (which you shared with Minjeong), for quite a while now, wondering what to do to kill off the boredom. Your mind wandered to something you remembered spotting in Ning’s room, once, when you were looking for a shirt she had borrowed ages ago. Remembering the big, bright-green toy in Ning’s drawers, you’ve impulsively decided you were done waiting for someone gross to finally fuck you; you’d do it yourself, instead.
That thought left you staring at the thing, still eyeing the vibrator suspiciously after wondering if you weren’t just too bored, and all. Surely, Ningning wouldn’t mind (or she would, but you’d by her another weird dildo if she fussed too much about you using it).
However, you had no idea of how that whole sex thing worked in practice. Sure, you’ve watched porn and listened to your bandmates ramble about their escapades, but it simply wasn’t the same. You huffed, frustrated but determined to but an end to it, after all.
“Hey, the girls were wondering if you’d like them to bring something to eat when they get ba-”Giselle stopped herself mid-sentence as she barged into your room, no doubt surprised by the sight of you with your hands down your shorts and the neon green vibrator one of your hands.
You jumped on your bed, pushing Giselle out of the bedroom as you cursed her out.
“What the fuck, unnie? Don’t you ever fucking knock? Doors are closed for reasons.”
You seriously wanted to die. And kill her. Then die and kill her again. You felt your face getting flushed with bright red as you hit your head on the door, hearing your friend’s laugh through the wood.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll just let the girls know you’re not… hungry. For food.” Another laugh echoed, and you knocked your head stronger. “I’m sorry, ok Yn? Let me in… please?”
Giselle was met with silence, as you were still trying to figure out how to flush your head down the toilet after being caught in such a scene by one of your bandmates and best friends.
“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off, ok? It’s like, super natural. It’s not like we don’t masturbate, either.” She kept on talking, and you could picture her looking at her nails with her bored expression, tiny nose and monotonous voice, “In fact, I really should get a new vibrator for myself too. I feel like mine’s fucked up with the batteries or something. Although, of course I won’t get one in that hideous color like yours and-“
“Ugh, it’s not mine!” You said, giving up on ignoring the shorter girl and deleting yourself from earth. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled her by the arms, making sure to close the door well enough this time. “Just shut your fucking mouth, unnie God.” You muttered, preparing yourself to explain the whole situation to her.
(…)
“Why is it so green, though?” You questioned Giselle, turning the vibrator upside down with 2 of your fingers, almost unsure of how to manage it.
The two of you were sitting in your bed after you explained the entire idea to your friend, hoping she wouldn’t find you too pathetic. Thankfully, the only thing that truly made Giselle wrinkle her nose at was the color of the thing.
“How would I know? Ning’s weird as fuck. Maybe it’s a kink of hers or something.” Giselle scoffed, also looking a bit disgusted by the device’s bright color, and you hummed in approval.
It was very Ningning coded, indeed.
The silence after your conclusion was awkward, and you intended to give your friend an excuse to exit your room when she uttered, out of nowhere, “I could help you out, you know.”
“E-excuse me?” You gagged. This afternoon just kept getting odder and odder.
You mean, it’s not like you and Giselle weren’t close, which you were. You’ve changed, bathed and shared more intimate moments together than you could ever remember. It’s just… this was different. Very different.
“I could help you with what you… want.” She sounded almost unsure, even though she nudged you playfully. “Come on, it’s not like you know anything in practice.”
“No need to flatter yourself, huh.”
“I’m just saying,” she continued, ignoring your bitter tone, “that I could make you feel good. And that’s what you want, right? I mean, that’s what sex is about anyway.”
You were still not fully convinced, but you were eyeing her more attentively now. Sensing you were almost giving in, she plucked one of your locks out of your face. “It’s really not the big of a deal you think it is, Yn. It’s just sex, and we’re friends. Right?”
“...Yeah, right.”
This was obviously a stupid, impulsive, brainless idea, to have sex for the first time with one of your bandmates. While your other bandmates weren’t home.
You took a deep breath, nudging Giselle back and laughing as she looses balance and almost falls from your bed.
“Fine. Let’s do it, then.”
(…)
“So... should I just put it in?”
“What? No!” Giselle looks at you with big eyes, giggling a little. She stopped when you kept on staring at her, now realizing you were serious about not knowing how to do this. She took the toy from your hands before frowning at it, then sizing you up. “Well, not at first, at least. You’re not even wet. This way it won’t fit, and it will be too painful.”
“It’ll be painful anyway.” you grumbled, allowing her to spread your legs to place herself between them. Aeri massages your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Not really, no.” she can tell you’re nervous by the way your eyes never meet hers, and you keep twitching as if to fight the urge to close your legs and dress yourself. “It might be uncomfortable at first, but then it’s like... a nice kind of discomfort.” her fingers tease the hem of your shorts, lightly brushing your abdomen. Ever since she’s caught you in your room and offered to help, Giselle has been nothing but patient. “You don’t have to do it, though.” she reminds you, still caressing your body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin and-“
“I-“ you took a deep breath, finally gathering enough courage to stand on your elbows and look at her, although you still sounded unsure. “I do want to do it. I’m just ashamed, I guess. You can admit that it’s a bit pathetic, no problem.”
Giselle giggled again, this time with her fingers accompanying her light posture are they ran through your body, picking on your waist and poking your ribs in the places she knows you feel ticklish the most. You laugh and try to squirm under her touch — you’re taller, much taller, but she is stronger, so she quickly strands you entirely, hands locking your wrists up in your head so you couldn’t move or try to get on top of her.
“Hey, no fair! Let me go!” you plead, but your laughter and the weak way you try to run from her is all Giselle needs to know her mission has succeeded: you’re way less tense now.
“You’re so cute, Yn. it’s adorable, really.” she says, kissing each of your cheeks repeatedly. You try your best not to blush.
Even though you were the group’s maknae, you weren’t often reckoned as such, with your height making you impose and usually not the cute girl type. You didn’t mind it, either; you’d rather jump off a bridge than do aegyo anyway.
One of Giselle’s hands let go of your wrists to make its way down your abdomen again, though the other one kept holding you in place. Her featherlight touches still made you squirm, but she held you with such care, you couldn’t help but to feel safe.
“Is it ok if I take this off?” she asked, gripping at your panties as she scanned you for any reservations. You tensed again, but as you opened your mouth to say it was ok, she cut you, “it’s ok, then. We’ll just push it to the sides.”
Giselle knew how insecure you were about your body. The girls were always teasing you and karina for wearing the clothes with most fabric, and you often laughed about it. It was only now, in your newest comeback, that you were beginning to try new things and riskier, revealing outfits. She never understood it, though. You were praised by numerous knetz about your body; how toned, and athletic you were, with your long legs and gracious arms, fit for a supermodel. Which you have been since your teens, for a fact. The company had recently signed you off with Valentino and you were absolutely outstanding walking in Paris Fashion Week, which Karina had also attended, though not as a model. She did try her best to always praise how beautiful you were, though, to make sure you knew it.
True to her word, Aeri tapped your hips, and you raised them as she slipped your shorts past your legs and threw them on your bedroom floor. Your panties were pushed to the sides, as promised, but before her fingers could reach your pussy, the older girl lifted herself up from between your thighs, a slight frown on her face.
“What’s wrong, Unnie?” You asked her, looking for any signs of trouble in her yourself. Did you do anything wrong? Should you touch her, too? Does she even want to be touched? Fuck, you were so bad at this. Perhaps if you were any bolder, you would’ve gotten laid already and wouldn’t be in this pathetic situati-
“It’s all ok, Yn-,” Giselle reassured you, squeezing your hips to snap yourself away from your thoughts and back to her, to this. Now that you noticed it, she was gripping each of your thighs with her hands, and her face was too close to your core. Too fucking close. You felt your face get hot and a familiar sensation build up on your lower abdomen. (You weren’t a total prude, of course you’ve touched yourself before, even if it wasn’t often.). “I think my fingers will hurt you if we do them now, though. But don’t worry, I’ll prep you up.”
“What do you mean with prepping me u-oh fuck,” you drop your head on the bedside as she finally gave your pussy a long lick, delighting herself as she saw how responsive you were. Smaller, quieter ones followed, and soon the older girl was nearly making out with her dripping cunt.
You bit your lip, trying not to make any noise, but soon your bandmate’s fingers brushed your lips, forcing their way in.
“Don’t silence yourself,” she told you, watching you suck on her thumb so prettily. It made her so aroused to see how good you were at this. At following commands—her commands. It made Giselle want to rip the rest of your clothes and take you until you were crying for her to let go of you. “It will feel better if you let the sounds out, trust me.” She cupped your jaw before going back to eating you out, so you did as told, not bothering to hide how good this was making you feel at all.
“Ok...” you mumbled, moaning loudly as she teased you with her mouth. You arched your back whenever Aeri slipped her tongue into your dripping cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. The friction it made was out of this world, and you felt the waves of pleasure building up slowly but deliciously to create an entirely new feeling.
“Is it good?” She asked, her hot breath on clit before she gave it a light suck. You nodded, “Tell me.”
“S’too good, oh fuck.” You managed to answer her, breathless. One of your hands grabbed her hair, and you tried to shove her face even deeper into your pussy, but it made Giselle stop instead. You rolled your eyes at her. She was too bossy. “Sorry, unnie. More, please?” You were rewarded, then, as Giselle’s attention went back to your clit, circling it hard and fast as her hands pulled on your panties with enough strength to rip it off.
She grabbed your thighs and gave your clit a hard suck, making you almost scream. You cried loudly as you were hit by a hard wave of pleasure, with Giselle still licking you through your high, her eyes trained on your frame.
She got up and made her way up to you, promptly kissing you with her lips smeared with your juices. “Next time, tell me when you’re close, ok?” She asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You nodded, still brushing her lips.
You could feel her hands in the hem of your hoodie and your shirt, and she stopped the kiss to gesture for you to get your arms up, which you did. Soon you were bare to her, a bit shy from the way her eyes were darkened and she stared at your chest with such lust. You tried to cover yourself, but Giselle was quick to replace your hands with hers instead, cupping your breasts eagerly.
“So pretty, Yn...” she said, and soon you two were making out again, with you on her lap. Your brain had long been reduced to mush and your sole focus was on Giselle: the way her hair was perfectly in place, hands running through all your body.
She was painfully clothed, though, you noticed. A clear contrast to your exposure. You told her just that, trying to get off of her so she’d undress too, but you weren’t allowed.
“Of course I am, silly.” She smiled at you, “This isn’t about me anyways.” And as she reached for you once again, you couldn’t find much strength to be bothered enough to argue, too busy with her kisses and touches. You couldn’t muster how long the two of you spent like that, just exploring each other’s bodies, but it was long enough for you to feel the heat building up on your core a second time, making you worry you were making a mess on Giselle’s thigh.
You tensed when you felt her fingers brushing your entrance, not quite entering but teasing, gathering your slick before going up on your clit, circling it for a few times then presenting themselves again on your pussy.
“Shh, it’s ok,” she cooed, placing wet kisses on your neck. She gently sucked on your pulse point, making you drop your head and moan embarrassingly loud. Thank God the girls were out. “It’s just one finger. You’ve taken fingers before, right?”
You shook your head, whining when you felt it enter you. It burned a little, and it was clearly too tight, but you already felt your entire body burning up. It was too good to stop. She stopped the work on your neck to stare at you, and you saw her eyes darken.
“No fingers? Not even yours?” She gripped your thighs harder, urging you to answer, but you were too busy rocking yourself against her hand to create more friction, anything to deepen this feeling that was already so, so good, “Answer me when I talk to you, yn.” Giselle’s tone was harsh, and you flinched a little. She curled another finger inside you, making you rock yourself onto her faster.
“It d-didn’t do anything when I did it by myself before, so I would just p-play with my clit until I came-oh God.” You squeezed your eyes as she added a second finger, increasing her rhythm.
She was breathless, too, you noticed as she kissed your chest, pinching your nipples and sucking on your breasts without caring if it was messy.
“Fuck, yn. You’ll drive me fucking insane” she murmured. You couldn’t even answer, reduced into a pool of cries and whimpers, but it just felt so good it made you want to cry. How could you have gone so long without it?
Giselle’s grip on you was strong, whether it was in your arms, hips, or thighs, and it would surely bruise later, but you didn’t care a single bit. All you wanted was for her to go harder and faster, not stopping.
“Unnie, please.” You pleaded, searching for her lips as you kissed her sloppily. “More, please, please, ah...” now you were deeply thankful that jimin and minjeong were out. There was no way your moans weren’t being echoed through the entire dorm.
It didn’t matter, though, because your cries rewarded you with an even faster pace, and the pain of being stretched as now only a reminder of the combo of sensations you were feeling.
“You’re such a mess right now, yn.” Giselle told you, her hands on your hips to keep you grinding on her without losing the fast pace. “So, so pretty.” She praised, pecking your lips.
You got shy, hiding your face in the crook of her neck to keep her from noticing how much that aroused you, feeling the familiar heat gathering in your belly.
“Aeri stop, I-I’m gonna,” you motioned to stop, but she only gripped you tighter.
“It’s ok, baby, don’t stop. Come for me.” She commanded, working her fingers even faster as she added her thumb to your clit and circled it fast. With a few strokes, you came.
Your vision went black, and you felt your body go numb, almost as though there were a million fireworks exploding inside of you. You felt Giselle’s hand on your back, tracing light circles as she held you close, still snuggled to her. You took your time evening your breaths, and a few minutes passed until you felt strong enough to get out of her lap and lay in bed, staring at her attentively.
“That was...” you didn’t even know what to say. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” You told Aeri, meeting her gaze.
She licked her fingers clean, the ones who were buried deep inside you just a few moments ago, letting them go with an audible ‘pop’.
“You did very good, baby.” She said, hugging you gently. “I’m glad you liked it. I told you it was good.”
“I guess.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds. It had been intense, but now you felt like a big-ass truck had run over you multiple times.
The sound of the shower being turned on made you open your eyes again, seeing Aeri besides you, a glass of cold water in your hands.
“Here, take it,” she motioned to you, who complied immediately, drinking it all pretty fast. “How about you take a bath now, huh? The girls might be back anytime.” You nodded, not wanting them to see you like that, and you took the hand Giselle offered to get up and go to the bathroom.
You did see something green displayed on the ground when you’ve reached your bathroom door, though, and you laughed a little to yourself.
“Unnie?”
“Yeah, Yn?”
“We didn’t even use the vibrator.” You pointed it out, seeing Aeri’s big smirk. The girl’s mouth opened in a fake motion as she grabbed it, taking it out of the room with her.
“I guess we forgot. We’ll have to save it for next time, then.” She winked at you, leaving you to shower alone.
Giselle would be caught dead if she wasn’t going to corrupt you all to herself.
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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 19 days
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Jealousy
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Wanda Maximoff x reader ☆
Summary - pretty much is what it says on the tin. After you try to avoid your crush you find jealousy eating at you.
Warnings: stupid, possibly cringe, maybe a little angst? Idrk, happy ending, jealousy, gay,
A/n: this is the first fic I've written since I was thirteen and I did it just to avoid being involved with my parents fight. Also my grammar probably isn't that great bc I haven't slept in 2 days so pls comment any corrections. Any feedback is so so appreciated
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You didn't know when it had started. How even. But you had somehow become infatuated with fellow avenger and best friend Wanda maximoff. To put it simply you had a crush on her, a stupid schoolgirl crush that was beginning to crash down on your friendship with her.
It was small things at first, avoiding eye contact so you wouldn't blush under her gaze or not sitting next to her at meals. Next it was finding reasons not to hang out alone.
Little to your knowledge Wanda had noticed all these things and had begun to wonder if she'd upset you in someway that maybe you didn't like her the way she'd always admired you. She tried to approach you to go out for lunch to try and apologise for whatever she thought you were upset about but before she'd had chance to speak you'd scurried off saying something about needing to train.
And so life went on for Wanda as heartbroken she was that you seemed to want to distance the close friendship youd shared that she'd once thought could be more she didn't want to spend forever alone and crushed.
Thats when your jealousy started.
"Yeah the date actually went really well last night." You'd heard the sweet sokovian accent ring out across the kitchen as you'd shuffled into get your breakfast. Still half asleep you mumbled as you poured a coffee.
"You've got a date?" It came out a little more territorial than you'd intended. Despite your small efforts to dissipate your crush on the woman you were still annoyed at whoever thought they could date the girl you liked, that you should be with.
Not that you were looking at her but Wandas face seemed to light up when you initiated a conversation with her. After weeks of dead silence she'd want nothing more than to hear your voice which she'd describe as honey like and melodic to the ears.
"Yes, yes I am. A second one actually." You could feel your face redden slightly and twitch in annoyance at the words that left Wanda's lips. A second?! Not only had she had one date with someone else it had gone so well they wanted a second.
"You shouldn't go out with them." The words leave your lips quicker than you can stop them. And you look to see Wanda's face, her mouth open wide as her bottom lip twitched slightly.
Shit. You'd upset her. You'd upset the girl you loved. "I... I.. I mean.." You stammered through your sentence trying to find an exscuse for what you'd said. "I just mean.. your an avenger you should do a background check on them first and.. uh.. make sure you know they're legit and not a spy or something." After saying that you quickly fled the kitchen leaving your full cup of coffee much to the confusion of Wanda who'd had just about enough of the way you were acting.
That evening you were in your room catching up on a drama you'd originally started with Wanda but since you'd decided youd ruined your friendship beyond recovery you wanted to finish it yourself.
Then came a small delicate knock on the door. That was how Wanda knocked. Oh god you recognised how she knocked now, how would you ever get over her?
"I'm working go awa-.." You tried to get out quickly at the door as you rapidly turned the tv down and hoped she'd leave you alone.
Before you were even done your sentence she'd interuppted and responded. "Don't say another word. I can hear killing eve (srry I can't think of another tv show) playing in there. Let me in so we can talk."
You waited a beat thinking about the small list options you had right now to avoid the confrontation at your door, none of which would work or were very smart and would probably be more embarrassing than admitting the truth. So reluctantly you let her in. Twisting the handle slowly giving her all the time she needed to change her mind and leave.
Unfortunately that didn't happen and instead she waited patiently before heading over to your bed a flopping down on it in the ever so casual way she used to. As if no time has passed.
"Okay speak. Tell me whats wrong? What did I do to you?" She asks looking up at you with what looks like anger? No, no it was hurt. Everything from her wide watery eyes to her sweaty palms read that she was hurt and was nervous to why you'd been avoiding her.
"Its not you." Was all you could manage to spit out in the moment. Why had you even avoided her so much when all it had done was harm your best friend.
"Okay so what is it?"
She was relentless, she wasn't going to leave until you explained yourself and your recent actions. Being honest you couldn't blame her if it was the other way round you'd want to know.
"I..." You stare at her gorgeous face eyes flicking between her plump lips and her soft, glimmering eyes even in this moment struggling to make eye contact with her without a blush spreading across your cheeks. "I like you.. as like more than friends."
You watched on as her face contorted. The way she bit the inside of her cheek and her soft eyes hardening in time with your admittal. The hurt was long gone and replaced with an annoyance that you had blanked her instead of admitting your feelings but also a small glimmer of hope that it wasn't too late for you two.
"So what? You didn't think to tell me." She gets up from the bed. "Your rational descion was to ignore me in hopes of what?!" She was pacing now. "In hopes of what?" She repeats and suddenly your also stood up trying to open your mouth to speak but she won't give you the time. "In hopes I'd dissappear or your feelings would and we could just be friends again?"
Meekly you nodded. You had ignored her to try and make your feelings go away.
"Did you not think about me? Maybe I wanted you to have feelings for me. Maybe I want to be with you." She was speaking again and nearing you with each word.
"I.. didn't think you liked me like that.. I thought that you'd hate me."you try and explain my poor actions. "Look I'm really sorry.. I didn't know you felt like this about me."
You grab her arm forcing her to stop angrily pacing around the room and to talk to you again hoping it would calm her slightly. "..please I am. I'm really sorry Wanda.. I've missed speaking to you so much, I've missed you so much." Your further apologies seem to lessen her anger as she realises what you had done was unintentional and you'd never meant to cause this.
"You can make it up to me then."
"How?" She was offering to forgive you and that was enough. You'd do anything to stop her being angry with you ever again.
"Take me on a date."
A/n - I can write a pt 2 or follow up if anyone is interested <33
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selfindulgentpixies · 7 months
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Soothing words and decaf
Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot
When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes
You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious  had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern. 
“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.
You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.” 
He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes. 
“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up. 
You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold. 
Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day. 
You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.
Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar. 
You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.
“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice. 
You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”
A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.” 
“Seriously you both should-” 
“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks. 
You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.” 
Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.
Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are. 
You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.” 
Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed. 
“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.
“You’re squishing me, you big menace!” 
The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “ 
Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.” 
“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to. 
You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch. 
“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.
“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach. 
You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.
@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy
@gojoest
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nickfowlerrr · 1 year
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Hey! Such a fan of your work. Do you still take requests for pwyc Bucky? Is there any chance you could do a reader having a down day bit? Been having a hard time lately and I find so much of myself in her and Bucky soothes the soul. NO worries if not, or if you’re trying to enjoy the holidays and not be put on a downer. So grateful for your work x
pretty when you cry series masterlist
bad day
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pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. female receiving smut. comfort fic. if i’m missing something you think should be tagged, pls let me know!
words: 2.3k
notes: thank you so much for sending this in. i have been feeling much the same lately so i was really glad to write this little drabble. i hope you find some comfort in it and hopefully it can help brighten up your monday 🖤 sending you love and wishing you a happy holiday season, anon! and to everyone else who reads this, too. 🥰
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“Sweetheart?”
Bucky’s voice called out into the silence of the house, receiving no answer in response. All the lights were off, letting him know you hadn’t been downstairs, at least not since the sun started to set.
He knew something was wrong, he had been feeling it all day. He was worried about you, texted you repeatedly and tried to call when he got a chance, but you didn’t answer. If he could have left that meeting with Stark earlier, he would have in a heartbeat. He’d been itching to get home since he started feeling something was off with you. Steve called him out on not paying attention to much of what was being said at the meeting, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was antsy and on edge, annoyed at every question he was asked and clearly irritated any time someone spoke directly to him. The only thing on his mind was you.
“Baby,” he called out, softer as he approached the door to your shared room.
He had no idea what was wrong, but the heaviness he had felt from you all day was starting to get near paralyzing. It was like you were overwhelmed and completely numb at the same time. All he wanted to do was comfort you, make you feel better. Whatever he could, whatever you needed him to do, he would do. He couldn’t take feeling this much longer knowing it was all radiating from you. You must’ve been drowning at that point, the weight of these unknown emotions hadn’t let up all day except the few times you had probably fallen asleep.
Still not getting a response from you, Bucky quietly opened the door and walked in to find you lying on the bed still in the pajamas you were wearing when he left you this morning. You were curled up on his side of the bed, cuddling with his pillow, a delicate pout on your lips as you stared at nothing, breathing steady. Your eyes were bleary when you looked up as he came in.
“Hi,” he said softly, moving to sit next to where you laid on the bed. His hand immediately going to your back, running it up and down soothingly.
You didn’t respond right away, instead letting go of his pillow that you’d been using as a surrogate for him, and grabbing his arm, urging him to lay with you. He got the hint right away and let you pull him down before he adjusted himself so he was facing you better. Your arms wrapped around him and you buried your face in his neck as he returned your embrace.
“Hi,” you mumbled against him.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
“Noth-”
“Don’t say ‘nothing’,” he cut you off before you could finish replying.
You closed your mouth, thinking briefly before deciding not to answer.
Bucky allowed the silence as he returned to rubbing your back, taking a breath as the ache in his chest eased just the slightest.
“Bad day,” you finally responded quietly.
“That makes two of us,”
“Sorry,” you winced at the reminder that he was forced to feel what you had been feeling.
“Don’t be. All I wanted to do today was be here with you,” he assured you.
It was quiet again before he heard your small sniffling and the dampness of your cheeks on his skin as you nuzzled even further into him.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, doll. I got you, you’re okay,” he cooed as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of your head.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve been feeling this all week, I know you’ve been trying to push it off,”
“I just,” you took a breath before trailing off, not knowing how to explain properly.
“You can tell me anything,” he reminded you.
“I know, I just..”
All words left your head, any semblance of an explanation you could try and offer went flying right out of the window. Not being able to pinpoint it only made it that much worse. He was asking a sensible question. What was wrong?
What was wrong?
What is wrong? Why are you feeling like this?
Why don’t you have a single fucking idea as to why you’re feeling so…bad.
Your heartbeat picked up and so did your breathing. You were trying to find a reason, just one. But you couldn’t. You just felt like this. No real logic to it. You couldn’t give him an answer and you only made yourself feel worse knowing you were making him feel the same.
“I don’t know,” you cried, dejectedly into his neck. More tears falling freely now.
“Shhh,” he whispered into your hair, cradling you against him now. “It’s okay, baby. ‘S’okay.”
You calmed as he held you, feeling slightly better having acknowledged that you were feeling bad instead of fighting the feeling as it had been threatening to drag you down all week, trudging through each day and only finding any kind of reprieve when Bucky was near. Your breath was beginning to steady when he pulled you back from him slightly, looking in your glassy eyes before he gently wiped the remaining tears from your face and you leaned into his hand.
“Have you eaten today?” he questioned.
“No,” you answered, looking away from him, feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t really left your room at all. You had started getting ready in the morning, lazily brushed your teeth and even washed your face. You were going to get in the shower, but when you went to start it, decided to do it later. You just felt so tired still. You crawled back into bed and slept for another hour before you awoke. You felt even worse then. Bucky had left and you had no distractions from the black cloud that had been following you around lately. So you just let it storm over you. Sleeping on and off throughout the day and wallowing in self pity and despair when you were awake. Everything and nothing was wrong all at once. But now, as you were coming back to yourself, your lack of living today was clear and you felt stupid and lazy for it.
“I need to shower,” you mumbled, moving to get off of him. He held you down, keeping you in his embrace, not letting you up just yet.
“I’m gonna make you dinner, first,” he told you.
“Okay,” you allowed as you looked up at him to meet his eye, “Well, I can shower while you make it,” you suggested, thinking it was the obvious course of action.
“No,” he stated, with a shake of his head as he held your eye. You furrowed your brow in response. “We’re gonna shower after,” he told you.
“We?” you repeated softly, looking him in his eyes. The warmth and affection that swam in them was comforting as he nodded before pulling your face closer to place a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Then I’ll light a fire and we can watch that show you keep telling me about. How’s that sound?”
“Good,” you answered, nodding slightly. “Honestly…Anything’s good as long as you’re here,” you simpered.
“Someone’s feeling sappy,” he smirked, repeating the words you always shoot at him when he gets too sentimental or cheesy on you, earning a light eye roll and smile from you at his teasing as you laid your head back down on his chest, taking another moment to just relax in his arms.
“Actually, can we just.. I don’t know, order pizza? Then we can shower right now and just go downstairs to eat and watch the show when it gets here.”
He nodded in response.
“We can definitely do that,” he agreed, a relaxed smile on his face as he felt the heaviness slowly lifting from you.
You pulled yourself up again, this time he let you go as he sat up, grabbing his phone from his pocket to place your usual order. You wandered into the bathroom, starting the shower to let the water warm up before you began to slowly take your clothes off. You were stepping out of your sweats as Bucky came in behind you, tugging you to him. You leaned back against him as he hugged you before his hands found the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up and over your head. He nudged you toward the shower that was beginning to fog up already as he began to undress.
You stood under the water, the warmth helping you relax further. Your body felt so sore though you hadn’t done a thing all day. As Bucky got in with you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you sighed at the added relief he brought you. You stood there for a while, swaying in his arms slightly as the water fell on the both of you. Eventually, his arms slipped from around you and when his touch returned, he was gently washing your body, the suds of your soap slowly washing down your skin with the stream of water that was directly above you. Bucky placed soft kisses on every area of your body he washed for you, worshiping every inch of you. He knew you weren’t feeling great, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you - and how incredible you were to him. He needed you to know he would always be there for you, no matter what. On your best days and your worst. He wasn’t going anywhere.
It was like you could feel his love for you radiating off of him and it warmed you. You grabbed his hand as he dragged it back up your hip once you were done washing off. You turned to him and wrapped your own arms around his torso, your hands now traveling up and down his back as you rested your head on his chest. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t need you to explain. He just understood. Intuitively, instinctively. He knew what you needed right now.
You needed someone to be there.
You were so used to being alone, relying on no one but yourself, but it got tiring after a while. Having no other choice but to stay strong. Things were different now and you knew that. You knew you had Bucky, and you knew you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, but old habits die hard.
When you were together like this, though, you were reminded that you could let yourself feel. It was okay to break down because he’d be right there to pick you back up.
“You okay, princess?”
“‘M’okay,” you nodded. “Bucky, I...Thank you,” you whispered as you looked up to him, one hand reaching up to touch him, your thumb stroking his cheek as your nails gently raked along his neck and into his hair before pulling him down to kiss him softly, lips brushing delicately before you kissed him a bit harder, pressing yourself closer to him.
“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.
“I love you,” he responded, leaning down to kiss you again.
You stayed like that for another minute, just holding each other.
You grimaced as your stomach suddenly grumbled, the hunger you hadn’t even noticed just an hour ago now making itself known.
“I think I might be hungry,” you admitted as Bucky chuckled.
“That’s what happens when you don’t eat all day,” he lightly admonished. “Let’s finish up in here, by the time we’re done the pizza should be here.”
“What do you mean ‘finish up’? I thought we were done?” you said, confused. You’d both washed up and rinsed off - hair and body. You had thought you were both ready to get out and dry off.
“No, I’m not done with you just yet,'' he said as his hand slipped down between your bodies, his knee nudging your legs apart carefully. You leaned further into him as his fingers found their way to your sensitive folds, rubbing you gently before he slipped two of his thick digits into your tight heat as you gasped and shuddered against him, keeping your balance by holding onto his shoulders while he cooed in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you as he pumped his fingers expertly in and out of you, curling them perfectly, hitting your sweet spots just right as you let out breathy moans at the stimulation. His thumb began rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit as he coaxed you to your orgasm, working you through your high once the pleasure finally overtook you, the white hot warmth erupting through you as you held onto him, muscles tensing and thighs shaking as you came.
You were trying to catch your breath as he suddenly picked you up by your thighs, making you wrap them around his waist. He kissed you again, stealing your breath as he did before you pulled away, nearly gasping as you rested your forehead against his.
“How long do we have until they get here?”
“Long enough,” he breathed huskily, crashing his lips into yours once again. You moaned into his mouth, mewling as you felt his erection throbbing against you, nearly teasing your entrance with the angle he was holding you at.
“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he said as he nuzzled his face into your neck.
“You,” you sighed. “I want you.”
You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, trying to get across how grateful you were that he was there, and how much love you had for him, how much you felt for him as he held you so surely, so securely in his arms.
“Always you.”
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freimeka · 9 months
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am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc
★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here
You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.
As you think of him.
That fucker.
Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.
You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.
You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.
Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.
Right?
You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.
"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."
You can't believe he's admitting it.
"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.
"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."
And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.
"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."
There's a moment of silence.
"I can help you with that."
You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.
He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.
Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.
He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.
"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?
"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."
Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.
"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.
"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."
He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.
"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."
"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."
"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.
"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.
Who are you to say no?
Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.
You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.
"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."
Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.
"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.
He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.
"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."
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gemini-stories · 3 months
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remember me | j.wy x reader
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synopsis: the years may have passed but he always remembered you. even when you didn't. pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader genre: idol!AU, friends to strangers to partners to lovers (?), smut (minors do not interact!!) warnings: idol wooyoung, idol reader, smut, face riding, cunnilingus, protected vaginal penetration (wrap it before you tap it), oral (female receiving), reader is bitchy, one sided pining, wooyoung is dumbly in love. if I miss anything pls let me know! word count: 7.6k ish a/n: tbh I wanted to get out of my comfort writing zone and decided to post my first fic here! this was supposed to be a one shot but it was getting too long for my liking, so maybe a part 2? anyways I'm open to any feedback and criticism so don't be shy to let me know and if you'd actually like to read the second part (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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The first time Wooyoung saw you was at the Junior Local Dance Competition you both participated when you were both 10 years old. He was dancing for the first time in front of a public after he started dance lessons three months ago. He messed up the steps. He was so nervous that he forgot a step and after that the whole choreography was a mess. He was on the floor sulking, in a corner backstage, far from anyone. 
“I knew I'd find you here crying,” you said with a warm smile. 
Wooyoung raised his glance towards you.
“I’m not crying!” he said embarrassed, crimson blossoming on his cheeks. 
“Yet. You’re upset and in the crying corner.You were about to cry if i wouldn’t have come here.” 
“Crying corner?” he asked, looking at the pink ruffles of your dress.
“We all come to this corner after our first performance. Usually everyone’s first performance is bad. Like really bad. So everyone who wants to cry and wants to do so alone comes here.”
He brought his knees to his chest and hid his face. “So I was really bad. Maybe I should quit before it’s too late.”
“Hey,” you lightly pushed his shoulder, your voice calm, “if we all were to quit, no one would come to this competition again. You should’ve seen me here the first time, I was a disaster,” you chuckled.
Wooyoung was emotionless. You seriously had to lighten him up somehow, otherwise he might mean what he is saying. You wished someone would have cheered you up when you were in his place four years ago. Now, you felt it was your duty to do it for someone else, so they wouldn’t go through a spiraling of self doubt at such a young age.
“Look, this was your first year, right?” you started cautiously. He slowly nodded his head and you took it as a sign to continue. “I bet next year you’ll even win the competition if you don’t give up now!”
“What?” he finally looked at you suspiciously.
“Practice every day and snatch the first place from me,” you said in the most serious way possible.
“How do you even know if you’ll win today?” he asked, laughing in your face. There it was.
“Well, I know I can win today, so you have to do it next year,” you grinned with a smile from ear to ear. “Pinky promise and all!” you extended your arm, fluttering your pinky finger.
Wooyoung looked at you puzzled. But why not, he thought. There was no guarantee you’d win today. So, he put his pinky into yours and you two sealed the promise with your thumbs.
“You can’t go back down now,” you said while getting up. “You have to win next year. Of course, you’ll have to beat me for that..but we made the promise, so work hard.”
Wooyoung was still as puzzled until you left. Does this mean he can’t give up now?
He got up and went to search for his parents in the audience. His parents waited for him with a sad smile, telling him he still did great and not to think about any mistake. He thought how you didn’t smile sadly at him. 
Then you came on stage. With your pink ruffle dress and glitter makeup. The audience clapped, wishing you good luck. It all went to silence and the music started flowing through the whole stage. And you started dancing. Wooyoung could only compare your dance to angels flying on the stage. You graciously moved on the song, smiling and lip-syncing to the song. 
You noticed him in the audience and you thought you should show him how confident you are. How confident he should be next time as well. You decided to improvise by getting closer to the edge of the stage, where he was sitting. You winked at him, sticking out your tongue and turned around to continue your choreography. The audience cheered.
Wooyoung was damn stunned. Did you just wink at him? Did anyone notice? He looked around but everyone seemed to think it was part of the dance. Maybe it actually was part of the dance. Your facial expressions were matching the mood of the song, which was very cheery. 
You finished your choreography with a courtesy and the whole public erupted in applause and cheers, while you went backstage.
You were right. You did win.
You fulfilled your side of the promise and now it was Wooyoung’s turn. He didn’t give up. He continued going to the dance classes. He thought about your performance every day. How confident and pretty you looked on stage, like the stage was your home. Like you were born to be on stage. He thought about how everyone in the audience was looking in awe at you, admiring the way you moved and clapping and cheering and smiling. And he thought that’s exactly how he wants them to look at him.
So he went to class after class after class for the whole year. He thought about his promise every day, motivating him to go forward. Quickly enough, it was time for the Junior Local Dance Competition. He was confident in his performance this year. His dance teacher complimented him so many times in the past months, even telling his parents how quickly he made such a progress. He was confident. Confident that he could beat you? Not so much. But he still had a promise to fulfill. Just you wait!
But he ended up being the one to wait. On the podium. With the first place medal in his hand. Alone. Because you were not there. He won but you were not there to see it. You didn’t come to that year's competition. Neither the next year’s. When he won again. Or the next, when once again he won.  
He thought he’ll never see you again. He thought about your performance that day. About how happy everyone was watching you. About how happy he was watching you.
Until you were dancing on the stage in front of him again. At the Regional Competition he attended when he was 14. You were dancing on a rendition of a popular pop song. Smiling and lip-syncing, while the audience was clapping and cheering for you. As he once remembered. Of course he’d recognize you and your smile, because you didn’t change at all. In reality, you changed a lot. You were taller, with shorter hair than he remembered, and not wearing the pink ruffled dress. 
You won. He came in second. He didn’t lose the competitions in a long time. But he was not upset because it was you. You won. You were there.
He wondered if you remembered him. You didn’t. You congratulated him for his performance telling him it was amazing after the awards were given and everyone went backstage. You didn’t bring up your promise and neither did him. Because immediately after you went to a group of girls, laughing and jumping in happiness. He looked at you and your group longingly. It’s been four years, of course you wouldn’t remember him and the stupid promise you both made when you were 10. 
He looked at you taking pictures with the girls. He recognised one of the girls. She was also attending the local competition every year and she briefly attended his classes as well, where she asked for his Instagram. She thought Wooyoung was a great dancer. She also thought he was very cute. That night he wondered if he could find your social media, maybe she would be following you. The girl had hundreds in her following list on Instagram and he didn’t know your name and neither did he see your picture in any tiny icon. 
He was almost going to give up when that girl posted an update. A picture from the regionals. And you were in the picture. Smiling so wide that your eyes closed and holding up the first place medal. The universe listened to his prayers. You were tagged in the picture. Jackpot!
He looked at your profile picture. Of course he was never going to find you, your picture was a cute bunny cartoon munching on a raspberry. Then he saw your name. He thought it was such a pretty name, suiting you perfectly. Your profile was not private so he spent the rest of the night looking at your pictures. That’s how he found out why you haven’t been attending the local competition in the last few years - you moved to a neighbouring city. Still in the same region, hence why you were at the regionals. You still attended the competitions in your city. And won every time. You were on a winning strike for sure! He wondered if you’re still as confident. Your posts were pictures from everywhere and everything you were doing. Dance practices, competitions, hanging out with friends, pretty sunsets and bunnies. 
He really wanted to follow you but he was scared. What if you would recognize him now? And think that it was rude he didn’t recognize you!
After a few minutes and not that many thoughts, he made a new account, hiding his name and followed you. 
He was so happy. Not only did he see you today. But he found your name. He was thinking that maybe, just maybe if he wins next year you’d recognise him and remember him. 
You didn’t. The next year at the regionals, you won again. And you didn’t recognise him. Again. He looked from afar. Again. 
After that year you also started to post pictures and videos from singing lessons. He guessed you were training now to be a singer as well. Your voice changed so much, from the tiny voice you had when you talked to him when you were 10 to your voice now at 16. You had a beautiful singing voice too. You were going to make a great artist.
The next year you didn’t show up at the regionals. That proved his theory you were probably a trainee now and didn’t have time to go to competitions anymore. 
He ended up winning. Once again you were not there to witness it.
But someone else was. They made him a proposition he couldn’t say no to. And that’s how he became a trainee as well.
Your last Instagram post was a picture of you with your eyes closed from smiling, captioned: “see you at my debut stage:)”.
You were going to debut.
At 18 you debuted in a trio with two other boys your age. Rhythm was your group's name. Very fitting, one could say. You all had great rhythm, were well synchronised, with powerful vocals, and energetic choreographies. You took the country by storm. The general public adored your group's music. The general public adored you. You and the boys. Your group was everywhere, interviews, radios, talk shows, music shows. And you were winning every time. As you once said.
You opened a new and official Instagram account and stopped posting on the old one. Wooyoung still followed your old one from his secret account. He started posting nature pictures with a tad bit of poetry in the captions. It was nothing too big, too deep, or too poetic. Just some of his thoughts that once in a while he felt the need to get out of his chest. He updated the profile picture to be his hand in a pinky promise stand. He thought it to be extremely fitting.
Wooyoung followed your every step, watching all the performances and interviews. He was so proud. He knew you’d be a star. You gave him courage and confidence once and you kept instilling it in him, in his trainee days and once he debuted as well. 
He debuted a few years later in an 8 members boy group - Ateez. They were gaining popularity fast, even though their music was in its own niche, with a unique concept. He was dying to be on the same stage as you. Maybe just maybe you’d recognise him. 
You never did.
“Y/N fucking mentioned us!” Hongjoong screamed entering the dance practice studio.
“Shut up!” San raised his eyebrows, his eyes almost bulging out of his sockets. He couldn’t believe it.
Wooyoung’s jaw dropped and he wasn’t able to close it yet.
Hongjoong held his phone up as proof. “Look!”
They all gathered around him, looking down at his phone. There you were, your smile too big for the small screen. It was a video from last night’s radio interview that Wooyoung didn’t have time to check yet. He couldn’t believe he didn’t see it first. He started smiling as soon as Hongjoong pressed play.
“So, Y/N, you always give amazing song recommendations. Any new music we should start listening to?” The radio host asked you.
You chuckled and Wooyoung was ecstatic waiting for your answer.
“I wouldn’t say new music, but these days I caught myself listening to Ateez a lot!”
The boys screamed. “OH MY GOD THAT’S US! IT’S US”
Wooyoung just kept smiling. That means you listened to him too. Maybe you even watched their music videos. Maybe even their performances. Maybe even..
“Ateez you say?” the host nudged you to continue, a little bit impressed as you usually wouldn’t recommend groups.
“Their songs really put me in a good mood, you know. And motivating. Also the lore behind their concept? It’s soooo good! I even caught myself watching fan theories and explanations so I can understand it, that’s how caught up I am,” you said laughing.
A general sound of gasping erupted in the room. Wooyoung was shocked. You definitely watched the music videos. He was more than curious to know what you were thinking of them.
“You know they are all very handsome, do you have a favourite between them?” such a sly question.
The room was silent, everyone expecting your answer. Wooyoung saw a tiny bit of blushing in your cheeks that went away in less than a millisecond. You were a pro at these interviews.
You licked your lips and answered, “You know I try to not show favouritism,” you giggled hiding your face, “but Hongjoong writes and produces a lot of their songs. I’d love to have a collaboration or something on a future song. I think it would turn out to be amazing!”
“Fuck.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath.
“No way!” Hongjoong exclaimed. “Did I hear right?”
“Bro,” Mingi patted his shoulder. “There’s no way. No way. She said your name. She wants to collaborate with you? For a song?”
“It’s nothing official though. It might never happen.” 
Hongjoong said, trying to stay calm, looking at Wooyoung, seeing how his shoulders deflated. Something he does when he’s on the verge of sulking. Hongjoong knew how much Wooyoung admired you. He never explicitly expressed it but it was obvious. He’d always listen to your group’s songs and your solo songs especially. He’d always smile fondly when you’d appear on TV, and he was always extra nervous when you would share the same stage. Wooyoung didn’t have to say anything, Hongjoong would notice. The same way he noticed now that your answer did bother him, more than either of them would expect.
What bothered Wooyoung even more was how a few weeks later you contacted their manager to go forward with a song collaboration. Your answer wasn’t just for the show. You really did want to collaborate with Hongjoong on a song.
Wooyoung was furious. But not with Hongjoong. he deserved the attention and this would be such an opportunity for him. He was furious with himself. Maybe if he went to you when you were 14 to say “hey, remember me?” he wouldn’t regret it so much. Like what even is he expecting now? For you to what? Name drop him in your interviews? He needed to get a grip.
“I don’t know, I feel like that part comes in too early, you know? Maybe we can add five beats before it to prolong the pre chorus just a bit?” you said scrunching your eyebrows.  
It was already your eighth time sitting in the studio with Hongjoong. You were surprised how well you two clicked. You didn’t lie in the interview when you said you were impressed by their songs. But you did always find it hard to work with new people. You were comfortable with your people, and the point of this new album was for you to get out of your comfort zone. That’s why you wanted to try something new. New sounds, new choreos, new videos. If all the collaborations were to go as smooth as with Hongjoong, the new album will be a piece of cake.
It was easy to talk with him and express your ideas. He was eager to listen and implement all your suggestions but was not afraid to implement bold decisions of his own either. You loved that.
“No, nevermind. It sounds weird as fuck. I don’t like it.” you sighed. “I’m sorry I know we changed this specific ten seconds a billion times today.”
“No sweat! That’s why we’re here. That’s why I’m here.”
There he is. Sweet Hongjoong. No matter how bitchy you are about the song he would help you fix it. 
“I’m sorry, I think I’m a bit in a slump today and that’s why I don’t like anything.”
“What’s bothering you today?” he asked while still looking at the screen.
You groaned loudly. “They are pressuring me to find a partner for the dance segment I want to perform for the end of the year awards.”
“Anyone on your mind?”
“Not one person,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on the couch. “Anyone on yours?”
“Actually yes,” he said, turning in his chair.
At this you perked you head towards him. “Really? Who?”
“One of my team members. He’s fucking good.” Hongjoong smiled. 
“Hongjoong, you are the best thing that happened to me!” you beamed.
Hongjoong was so excited. He could finally make it up to Wooyoung. He avoided talking about his studio sessions with him around, although the others would pressure him A LOT. Asking him everything. He always kept everything brief. But many times it sounded like he had something to hide. Which he didn’t. He didn’t want to make Wooyoung upset, that was it. Hongjoong, like the others, would look at you as you were - their senior. With a lot of respect and admiration. But Wooyoung always looked at you with more, with pride and happiness. You definitely meant more for him than what he wanted to show. 
“Hey man,” Hongjoong entered Wooyoung’s room, finding him in bed on his phone, “great news!”
“What’s up?” Wooyoung asked, concentrating on his phone, playing a game.
“I might have booked you a dance segment at the end of the year award ceremony.”
“Cool.” Wooyoung said unimpressed, still focusing on his game. He trusted his leader’s decisions. If he told him he had to dance at the awards, he was going to dance.
“A dance segment with Y/N,” Hongjoong smiled. 
“What?” Wooyoung finally paused his game and looked at Hongjoong. “Absolutely not.” he shrugged as if it was the most expected answer.
“The fuck? Why not?” Hongjoong was flabbergasted. Why would he say no to such an opportunity?
“Our dancing styles don’t match,” he blinked. 
“You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly,” he said, returning to his game. His heart beating faster and faster. What the fuck is he doing?
“Well too late. It was already discussed and agreed between the higher ups. Everyone loved the idea.”
Wooyoung paused his game again. He was opening his mouth to protest but Hongjoong cut him off. “Y/N is waiting for you at 8 in the morning at her dance studio. I’ll share the location with you. Don’t be late!” and he left. Leaving behind a confused Wooyoung.
What just happened? 
He was going to see you. Talk with you. Dance with you. No. This was not supposed to happen. He convinced himself he had to see you from afar and that’s it. His heart was going crazy. How was he going to survive this?
He was late. Oh, so late. He couldn’t fall asleep last night. He was too nervous, too excited. He was thinking about you the whole night. He even looked at your old profile, something he didn’t do in a long time. And so he fell asleep. But it was too late because as he fell asleep, he had to wake up and so he slept through his alarm.
“I am so sorry!” he shouted the moment he barged through your dance studio.
You were on the floor, doing some warm up exercises. He was 47 minutes late! How disrespectful. You slowly got up while he hurriedly left his bag in a corner and ran to the middle of the room. He was gasping for air, definitely ran to get here. 
You stared up at him. He was a head taller than you but you were not going to feel smaller. You looked him up and down and went back to look in his eyes.
“What? Your coffee date with your girlfriend ended up later than you expected?” it was wrong for you to make assumptions and you knew it. But you were oh so angry! You hated hated people who were not keeping their promise.
Wooyoung choked on his words. He should’ve apologised. Said it won’t happen again. Instead he said: “I don’t have a girlfriend,” while keeping his eyes on yours.
“That’s your private life,” you blinked, “and I don’t care about it. I only care for you to be here on time. Dance. And leave. Hongjoong is a great guy, don’t disappoint him.”
Wooyoung raised his eyebrow. Indeed, Hongjoong is a great guy, but why would you say that? 
“Let’s not waste any more time and start,” you turned to reach for your tablet. 
Your dance was a beautiful choreography on a melodic hip-hop classic rendition. The choreographer did a fantastic job. You worked with him on previous projects and you really really wanted this number to be touched by his creative vision. 
The only downside… he was living in New Zealand. That never stopped you before. He used to send you videos of the choreographies and you’d send him videos of you dancing it and ask for feedback. It worked fantastic before and it will work fantastic now.
Or so you thought. The choreography was not too difficult. It was intricate with many details that you really loved focusing on. You used to learn the steps very fast, maybe in a couple of hours, but this time it turned out to be more intricate than you expected. 
The two of you spent more than half of your allocated time just analyzing it. Pressing the replay button over and over and over again. Changing the speed and trying to absorb everything to the smallest detail.
Both of you were extremely focused and everything seemed to go on the right path. You were confident this will turn out well even with the slightest hiccup in the morning.
You were wrong. 
The moment the two of you started to physically learn and count your steps, everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. 
Wooyoung’s body was not listening to him. He was too much in his head, nerves, guilt, stress, fear, of failure and disappointment, everything was just overwhelming him. He felt as if his body was separate from his mind. The two doing their own thing. And he was in the middle, trying to bring them together and failing miserably.
You, on the other hand, were frustrated. With yourself and with him. With his delay this morning that gave such a wrong impression on him. He is sloppy, careless and unreliable. That’s what you told yourself the whole morning while trying to watch the choreography video. It didn’t help that when you started actually dancing he was making such…stupid mistakes. Then you went completely spiraling. Why did Hongjoong recommend Wooyoung? It was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. Was he setting you to fail? Was that his plan? 
You literally had to slap yourself to stop thinking. Which startled Wooyoung from his self-destructive thoughts as well.
You grabbed your phone, quickly typed a message and resumed your practice in no time.
Around an hour later, your phone was blinking. A sign that you got a new message that was not silenced by your do not disturb status. That could only mean one person.
“Let’s take a break,” you said looking at your phone, “20..no 15 minutes should be more than enough.”
It was the first proper sentence, besides some counting, any of you spoke in hours. 
“Ok,” was all that he could say as you left the dance studio in seconds.
He didn’t know what to do. He would’ve liked to get some fresh air but he was not familiar with the building and had no idea how to get on the roof. He didn’t want to get lost or anything. He decided the best idea was to ask you next time.
He ended up just rewatching the dance video, mentally noting some moves. Then slowly practicing and watching himself in the mirror. He was doing great. Way better. As he usually was doing when learning a new dance. Why wasn’t he like this the whole morning?
15 minutes sharp later, you opened the door, stretching your back with your arms above your head. 
“Did you spend your whole break here dancing? Why didn’t you rest?” you stopped yourself, inhaling, then adding coldly. “You know what, it’s your time. You are responsible for it.” 
“I am really sorry I was late this morning.”
And so you continued your rest of the practice.
After Wooyoung returned to his dorm, took a shower, and laid in his bed, contemplating how miserable he felt right now, he thought there was no way you were not going to complain to Hongjoong about today. And he was going to return home and scold him so so much. And not in a good way.
He knew the best way to get over it was to dance. So, in his tiny room, he got up and continued practicing the steps. Tomorrow will be better.
It was not.
He was so tired from not sleeping the previous night and from a double dance practice yesterday. Of course he overslept.
He was late.
Only 10 minutes.
But he was late.
You were lowkey furious. Was he testing your patience? That must be it. Otherwise why would he be late on your second day of practice. After you already made such a big deal about it yesterday.
When Wooyoung opened the door, gasping for air and ready to apologise, you immediately cut him off.
“Don’t even. Let’s just start.”
Sloppy, careless and unreliable.
And so you continued your practice in the next few days. Wooyoung was dying inside. He disappointed you but you were so mean.
“Don’t you know how to raise your hand?”
“This is a six count not eight. Can you even count? ”
“Did you learn to dance yesterday?”
“People will start falling asleep.”
“Why are you like this?”
And so much worse.
Wooyoung would clench his jaw in anger and just swallow his words.
You were indeed mean. You knew that. You did have extremely mean dance teachers growing up. Which was very toxic and haunted you your whole life. Apparently it still did.
You did start making these comments out of pettiness because you were annoyed with him. But then you noticed he wasn’t replying back. In the beginning he would only apologise. Then you noticed how his jaw would clench, how his nostrils would flare, how he’d roll his eyes, how he would deeply sigh. He was getting annoyed. But, nevertheless, he was not making any mean comments back. You did want to get a reaction from him. See what he had to say.
Sloppy, careless and unreliable.
And spineless too?
Your phone blinked notifying you of a new message. And so you announced the 15 minutes daily break.
You left the practice room and went to the familiar dimly lit storage room.
The moment you closed the door behind you, you felt yourself being lifted up and placed on the drawer nearby.
Your lips immediately parted, sinking in the kiss. You loved Hajun’s kisses. They were always exactly what you needed when you were stressed and annoyed. Which was a lot these days.
He trailed kisses on your jaw and down on your neck, nibbling at the cusp between your neck and shoulder.
“How is your pretty boy today?”
You rolled your eyes.
“I don’t wanna talk about him,” you rolled your eyes, unbuttoning his pants.
“But that’s your favourite topic these days,” he said, playing with the waistband of your sweatpants. “Almost like foreplay.” He yanked your pants down to your ankle in a swift movement, placing deep kisses on your lips.
He quickly put a condom on, aligned in front of your entrance, and pushed himself inside with no warning.
You gasped and bit your lips to keep quiet.
“He’s just..driving me..crazy,” you breathed. 
“So sloppy.” 
Thrust. 
“So careless.”
Thrust.
“So unreliable.”
Thrust.
“So spineless.”
“Spineless?” he groaned, increasing his pace. “That’s new. What did he do?”
You rolled your eyes in unison with your hips. “It’s what he didn't do. No matter what I say, he only gets annoyed but doesn’t talk back.”
He put his hand under your shirt, caressing your bare torso, moving up towards your chest.
“Sounds like you want someone to put you in your place.” he cupped your breast, pinching your nipple in between two fingers. “Am I not good enough for that, love?” 
You met Hajun a few months before your debut. He was training with you briefly, until he realised he is not cut for the entertainment industry. He was not sad or anything, rather happy. Studied to enter a good med school and never regretted his decision. The two of you became close friends. Venting each other’s frustration. Until one day, you both figured out the best way to vent. A kiss here, a kiss there, and then you were fucking on his couch. No strings attached and ready to break this deal whenever one of you was over it. 
You were stressed through the roof because of your upcoming album. He was stressed through the roof because of the exam season. All this stress combined and you were bound to see each other often. And fuck often.
“Oh, please,” you moaned in his mouth, “you never knew how to put me in my place.”
After a week of practice, you and Wooyoung filmed your dance and sent it to the choreographer for feedback. He immediately video called the two of you to deliver his response.
Which was a disaster.
He said your chemistry was lacking big time. No synergy whatsoever. And that you basically looked like amateurs. 
“Look guys,” he continued on the screen, “I'm not trying to discourage you. I’ve seen this happening a lot. With people that never danced together. Or never met before dancing.”
Wooyoung stole a glance towards you. Your face was expressionless, carefully listening to the choreographer's points. 
“In order to make my dancers have a more natural chemistry, I ask them to do a different dance. Don’t worry, it’s really short. I reckon in two weeks you’ll master it and can get back to your original dance. Just go with it and stop fighting it.”
Once the call ended you immediately got a message with the video of the new choreography you were told to do.
The video started with a sultry melody. As for the choreography? It was very sexually suggestive. Your original dance had a lot of touching and caressing, so it made sense why you needed perfect chemistry for it to not look weird. But this new one? It was something you never did before. A lot of floor steps that were very intimate. And oh so suggestive. How were you gonna pull this off?
Wooyoung was panicking. He didn’t touch you like this before. And he wasn’t sure he was gonna be able to without his hand trembling.
“Ok, let’s start I guess.”
You avoided looking in his eyes for the first time. You felt a blush creeping on your cheeks and fought against it. You were a professional. This is nothing.
That night Wooyoung looked through your Instagram page. He didn’t get it. You used to be such a nice and sweet girl. And you still were as sweet. Just not with him. 
He wanted to check the comments of your last before debut picture (very stalkerish) when he finally did it. Instead of pressing the comment button, he pressed the heart.
“No, no, no”
He got up in panic and did the best thing he thought of doing. Revoked the heart. It’s only been a few seconds. The notifications for sure didn’t come through. Right? And even if it did, what are the chances you are still active on that account? Right?
You were. 
You loved scrolling on your old account. You barely interacted with anyone on it and that’s why the notification startled you. 
It was from a photography and poetry account. You never even noticed when this account followed you. 
The latest post was a picture of the sky through a cracked window from two days ago with the caption ‘your words are grazing my heart like broken glass does to my skin.’
You liked it in a heartbeat, then followed the account.
Wooyoung’s phone vibrated in his hand. He got the notification of you following his secret page from your old account.
“Shit.”
The new choreography had some tough moves. In which both of you needed to rely on your own strength but also on each others’. 
One of these steps was requiring you to be on your knees on the floor. Wooyoung to slide on his back through your legs. Grabbing your thighs and lifting you and himself, while carrying you on his shoulders, and then dropping you to his arms. 
It was definitely an uncomfortable move that you had to practice a lot. It was risky too. And it wasn’t even the worst. 
And so you did. With every touch and caress from Wooyoung burning above your skin.
The same way every snarky comment from your side burned in his mind.
Of course you couldn’t help yourself. You would get even more critical and sarcastic the more you would feel threatened. And heated. 
After you went on your break, Wooyoung decided he desperately needed air to cool down. Jesus it was only the first day you were trying the new dance and it was killing him. How could he help himself when his skin tasted yours like that. 
He listened to your directions about going on the terrace you once gave him. Your building was huge and he couldn’t believe the whole floor was for you and your group. He turned left and left again. He heard a loud thump right before turning right on the tiny hallway. A faint sound continued to be heard. He approached the door, wanting to make sure nothing wrong happened.
His hand stopped on the door handle when he heard an almost imperceptible moan. The moaning continued in unison with the faint thumping. Mystery solved. And his cue to get back to his objective.
Much needed air. He didn’t need to know people were having sex when he was barely trying to stop a boner himself.
Cold air was blowing over him on the small balcony terrace that was as secluded as you mentioned.
Wooyoung stayed there for what felt like just a minute or so, when another man also joined him on the balcony. 
They only glanced at each other to acknowledge each other’s presence. Men. The other man took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Puffing slowly.
“I know it’s a myth but cigarettes after sex are still the best.”
Wow too much information, much?
At least Wooyoung knew that this guy was one of the people in the storage room. Not that he wanted to know that.
“So you’re the pretty boy, huh?”
“No?”
What was wrong with this guy?
“Look, there are only two people that ever come on this balcony and I sure as hell didn’t tell you about it.”
The realisation hit Wooyoung like a brick.
“Isn’t your break over?”
That motherfucker.
Wooyoung left Hajun before he could wipe his smug smirk with a punch.
Not that he could be mad that you were having sex. You were a consenting adult woman. But while on the clock? While training and practicing? How was that professional?
When he returned to the dance room you immediately rolled your eyes. The break was already over for a couple of minutes.
“Seriously what is your deal? You want to test my patience or what? Can’t you be on time once? This is so unbelievably unprofessional! We agreed to 15 minutes!”
“Seems that 15 minutes wasn’t enough for either of us,” he said barely a whisper trying to stay calm.
What did he just say? You were flabbergasted. Is he starting to finally talk back? What a horrible moment for that. And what even was that comment?
You decided to ignore it and just continue your practice from where it was left of.
Both of you were unprofessional. And both of you were blaming each other for it. You were blaming him for being such a pain in the ass and making you so frustrated, you couldn’t help but reach for Hajun. He was blaming you for being so mean and making him so nervous that he couldn’t function properly.
With every dance move, every touch he was exploding like fireworks. His shirt and sweatpants felt like paper. He was feeling every trail of your fingers on him as if you were following a gasoline path and igniting flames that were burning and consuming his being.
He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.
Just a tiny little boner.
Fuck.
He couldn’t ask for a break now. You were already pissed and he was sure you’d kill him (metaphorically or not) for daring to request to stop the practice so soon.
You were on fire too. Although making many mistakes, Wooyoung’s touch was so caressing every time. So soft. That you barely felt his contact through your shirt and sweatpants. As if feathers would gently kiss your skin, too afraid you may break.
You needed more.
He was laying down on his back. You were on top of him, trying to dance a new move that looked awfully much like dry humping him.
You are fine. Why are you so horny again? 
You are a professional. Which is why you continue rolling your hips. 
Dry humping is nothing. It’s driving you crazy. 
Not even when you feel him getting harder under you. You don’t want to stop. 
You are fine! You need to stop.
“Are you ok?” you ask.
“Huh?”
“You seem to have a small problem.” it was feeling anything but small. “Down there,” you deadpanned.
Wooyoung was mortified. How, why, and when. He was making sure he was subtly arranging himself in between moves when you were not looking.
You lowered yourself on your elbows, getting closer to his face, and staring into his eyes. 
Wooyoung immediately blushed, frozen in place. You could almost chuckle at his reaction. But you had to keep the appearances.
“Don’t worry, it’s a normal bodily reaction,” you whispered close enough for your noses to almost touch, “not many can resist.” you smirked.
You fucking smirked.
Wooyoung was so turned on he was certain he would’ve cummed in his pants if you wouldn’t have gotten off him and suggested to continue with a different move.
He was so embarrassed though. Not only he still had to deal with his boner. You were aware of it. And he was painfully aware you were. 
You were on your knees. For the move when he slides in between your legs. Until now, the easiest move and the least promiscuous. 
However, when he slid in between your legs this time, his head got stuck in your baggy sweatpants.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. Jesus fucking christ. You are mocking him again.
“So sorry. I think for this move i should take off the big pants. Don’t worry, I wear short leggings underneath.” you said winking.
Fucking winking. How much were you going to embarrass him today?
Your short gray leggings, more specifically booty short leggings, were thin and more or less you were wearing them as underwear. But Wooyoung didn’t need to know. It was your turn to mentally blush.
You were back on your knees and Wooyoung slid with no issues on the floor this time. Booty short leggings for the win!
“Wait, I want to check what I need to do with my left hand. I don’t want you fucking drop me.”
You bent over reaching for your tablet.
He could swear you were doing this on purpose. I mean how could you not, your crotch was not even 10 centimeters from his face. He was doing god’s work trying no to look. But he couldn’t help but notice the damp spot in between your legs. Which looked so goddamn delicious.
“Are you ok?” Wooyoung asked to which you didn’t pay much attention. “You seem to have a small problem.”
“What?” you asked, straightening yourself and looking down at him between your legs.
“Don’t worry, it’s a normal bodily reaction,” he whispered sultrily, getting closer to your core, “not many can resist.” He fucking smirked, making eye contact and immediately dragging his mouth over your damp spot. Payback time.
You stopped a gasp with your hand over your mouth.
Wooyoung continued licking your spot while maintaining eye contact. The look in his eyes being so different now, from the sloppy, careless, unreliable, spineless person from earlier.
You couldn’t believe you got so wet earlier. That he got you so wet. You admit he made you very aroused with that small dry humping session but that aroused? That you started to leak through your leggings? This will be the last time you don’t wear underwear!
With each lick you were getting wetter and wetter, and your leggings soaked with your arousal and his saliva, until the leggings became paper thin and you were feeling every flick of tongue.
Wooyoung was circling around your clit with lewd slurping sounds. 
The movement was making you crazy enough that you started gyrating over his tongue, making you want to moan. But you muffled the sounds with your hand over your mouth.
He was feeling so good.
Wooyoung grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart, which made you lower yourself on him even more. 
You could barely stand straight.
You were eaten out before, with no clothed barrier whatsoever. But like this, with your thin leggings sticking to your sensitive parts, soaking up your arousal and his saliva, with his tongue pushing harder and harder to make up for it? There was something about it that felt more sensual than any other oral session you received.
Wooyoung was enjoying this as much, if not even more, than you. Savouring every lick, every slurp, every drop. As if drinking sweet mead from the gods themselves. You were tasting as sweet as he ever dreamed. Not that he had dirty dreams about you. Or at least not that often. How could he not though? You were on his mind every day. And then you started to show the sexier version of you with the newer comebacks. And then he heard you moan on another dude’s dick in a storage room. How could he resist without imagining anything? With knowing how sweet you can sound. He wanted to hear you sound like that. Your sounds to be the anthem of his life. If only you could take that goddamn hand from your mouth and moan freely. 
You felt the familiar knot in your lower belly and clenched on nothing. You grabbed Wooyoung’s hair with your free hand to steady yourself. He gasped from the sudden pull of his hair. He didn’t expect it. You didn’t expect him to make such a delicious sound either. You wanted to hear more.
You continued rolling your hips with more confidence now, chasing your high. So close, so close. 
And then you exploded, feeling fireworks going off. You collapsed on your back on top of Wooyoung, gasping for air. What just happened?
Wooyoung swiftly got up and lowered himself on top of you. He was looking so hot with his face glistening from his sweat, saliva, and your arousal dripping on his chin. He licked his lips while watching you with dark eyes.
You couldn’t help but stare at his lips and tongue. Which just made you cum. 
“If you needed help, all you had to do was ask,” he grinned, a big shit-eating grin. The asshole.
You blushed the whole way home. You blushed the whole getting ready for bed routine. You blushed the whole time trying to fall asleep. You blushed the whole time scrolling on your phone trying to fall asleep. You blushed when you got a notification that your favourite poetry account just posted. You blushed looking at the picture - a steamed shower glass with a finger drawn heart. You blushed reading the caption - ‘your taste is the poison that kills me; your sounds are the hymn that bring me back to life.’ The universe was laughing in your face. part 2 | © 2024 gemini-stories All Rights Reserved.
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dozing-marshmallow · 6 months
Note
Pls i NEED more Chris McLean x reader. I NEED😭🙏 ive read everything of him on here😓
So pretty please something like chris mclean x wife reader and like, the whole tdi cast gets to meet her bc they didnt believe that Chris had a wife at first?😇
TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I feel the exact same way😫 I love Chris so much and it’s such a huge pleasure that I can write for him while having other people who love him enjoy it as welllll. I will be writing him for a very long time so you can always expect something new evolved around him to come up ;)<3
CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER HEADCANONS
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Having your daily hug with Chris, the tender moment reminds you of what he told you earlier.
“Were you being serious when you told me the kids laughed at you when you told them you were married?"
“Mhmm.” he responds from underneath you,“They called it a sick joke and told me that stand up comedy was way in my league.”
“Aw darling.” you kiss his forehead,“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask a favour for me to stop by to prove them wrong?”
He raises an eyebrow,“What do you mean? Stand up comedy is in my pursuit. I just don’t prefer it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”
He can be so silly sometimes,“I meant your marital status, baby.”
“Oh, yeah...” he holds onto your wrists,“Please?”
You let your body relax completely on top of his, still smiling,“Your wish is my command.”
“Aw what’s the matter, McLean? Couldn’t your wife make it?” Duncan was the first to pick up on ridiculing Chris, eyes still puffy from his chronic cries of laughter from last night. On another circumstance, Chris would’ve been fuming, had he not have reason to smirk.
“How sweet of you to worry, Duncan!” the host begins off, clasping his hands,“But she’s made it in one piece!”
On cue, you walk into the mess hall, linking your arm with Chris’,“Hii everyone! So happy to finally see you all in person!”
All conversation died.
Everyone turns to you.
This woman they’ve never seen before... 
His... His wife?
Were they hearing that right?
No way... He was being serious?
Chris was rolling on the inside at the shared alike look of being slapped spread across the contestants, especially of the mocking kind.
“I...didn’t know you had enough space in your heart to love someone else!” Beth’s the first to break out of her ice of shock to chirp.
“Surprised?” Chris chuckled, allowing you to introduce yourself, which was not what you guys decided.
“Yeah, I’m (Y/N)! This hot mess’ wife...” turns out improvising in front of teenagers wasn’t as fun as it sounded,“Sorry, I’m...not too good with words, so...help yourself to these cupcakes I made for you guys. I made them as a way to say how huge of a pleasure it is to meet you all!”
As you turn around to unwrap the trays, Leshawna clears her throat to privately address the cohort,"One of two things are gonna happen. One, those cupcakes are filled with maggots and hair. Or two, it's the first actual food we're gettin’ on this set."
Everybody nods in agreement.
They were right to inspect the wrapping and texture with their noses and eyes.
Yet didn’t expect to have the flavour of delicate buttermilk crumble on their tongues.
Oh my God...
Maybe they were deprived from having treats so long on the show, but it was unanimously categorised as a whole new delicious nonetheless.
The punk delinquent scoffs over,“Yeah... I’m not buying that’s his wife.”
“That evil maniac with a permanent smile is probably holding her hostage!” The ginger geek dramatically pinpoints.
“I can see why, these are too die for!” Owen squeaks, scoffing down an entire cupcake, wrapping included, not comprehending what situation it would mean for you if you really were abducted.
“Hm... Maybe he’s paying her.” Gwen suggests alternatively after taking another glance at you: it was your arm around him. Too touchy to be forced...
“I’d understand if he was hot like me, but he’s not even halfway there! Where would he find someone willing to do all that for him? No amount of money should convince anyone to ever lose their dignity for the likes of him." Justin criticises out of his internal debate of skipping the cupcakes or not.
“You’d be shocked if you’ve seen the fansite.” Noah opposes like it was the most known thing.
Speaking of which,"Sierra.” Heather directs, taking sudden control of the situation and everyone’s eyes to peel towards the superfan whose mouth was staining in the same dye as her magenta hair, perking up from her snacking at the mention of her name,“You know everything about everybody. Say, is Chris paying that woman to pretend to be married to him for laughs?"
The girl whose lifeline was Total Drama quickly swallows the last portion of her cupcake to appease her idols with a packed answer,“Oh, no! It’s all true! Unfortunately. Those two got married way before Total Drama was aired. A lot happened’s... My mom waited years for Chris to propose to her and there he goes, chasing after that nobody! Do you have any idea how painful it is to see my mom’s husband having an affair? (Y/N) is nothing but a block of concrete, blinding Chris from seeing his true soulmate! A.k.a my mom!” The last few sentences gradually grazed with personal prejudice, but not enough to throw the next cupcake away.
“Wait, but if Chris did get married to your mother... Wouldn’t that make you his stepdaughter-?“ Alejandro posited, already having a hard time imagining Chris take that role biologically.
"So Chris,” Cody interrupts the impending awkward ambient Alejandro’s phrasing would bring, steering the conversation back, still bewildered,“...really does have a wife."
Bridgette takes her slo mo time in grabbing another frosted vanilla good, rethinking, the same man that laughed at their pain,"I...honestly don't know how to feel about that."
"Huuu... I feel like I went overboard with cupcakes, Chris!” you freak out to your husband, fidgeting with the sleeves of your turtleneck,“Why did I pick to make something so childish? I should've picked something more formal... Like a dish from my home country..."
"Relaaaaax, no one else is thinking about that." Chris assured, biting into one of your delicacies.
You continued to murmur on,“I wanted to make something universal, a collection of sweets so in case one likes a certain flavour more than others... I thought teenagers around here liked cupcakes... I feel like such a fool... I hope they don’t think I see them as childish...”
He grabs one and holds it horizontally to your lips, painting them yellow,“It’s not just teenagers that like them, (Y/N). Besides, they are children. Children like things that are childish.”
That’s true... Your paranoia’s sunk,“Well... They seem to be enjoying themselves. I’ve been worrying for nothing.” you smile, drawing your finger on his stubble to take for licking,“You had some icing there.”
Turns out, you were really nice.
The angel to Chris’ devil.
The sun to Chris' moon.
The calm to Chris’ energetic.
“So (Y/N)... I just...have a quick question on behalf of everyone else.” The CIT girl shields her mouth with her hand, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Of course, Courtney. Whatever would you like to know?” you welcome her, all kinds of possible questions cloud your mind.
She tightens your shoulders in her palms,“What the hell do you see in Chris?”
...You expected that one,“Why, I see a strong, handsome, hilarious man. A goal-driven, deep down caring, loving, in need of love man.”
Now the only true thing she heard was “goal-driven”- to kill them as spiritually as possible. Maybe even physically.
"You're not brainwashed, are you?" Her eyes widened like your answer had tossed her deeper in her horror.
"Get her to blink two times in a row if she needs help!" Tyler shouts, unintentionally defeating the purpose of being discreet from his clean intention.
"Hm?” Teenagers are so funny!,“It's not brainwash when it's love! After all, wouldn't you say you've found yourself in love with someone you never thought you'd be with?" You smile warmly at the type A when the butterflies fluttered an external reaction across her freckled face.
"Th-That's different!” she impulsively shrieked before closing her mouth in embarrassment. She looks around, and after making sure no one was judging her, she continues speaking, back to her whispering voice,“That’s Duncan. This is Chris.”
“Well, we both seem to have a type for the ones that went to jail, don’t we?” you wittily mention, giving her a wink to the similar parallel.
Leaving Courtney to her common dynamics contemplation, there was no better timing for Owen to ask if you had any more cupcakes to give.
“I’m so happy you liked them! I’ll tell you what, I can make more and send them to you."
“Don’t get too flattered. Bed crusher there would eat anything, even things you can’t call food.” The overruling antagonist scornfully gestures, her hair as black as her heart.
“...Ah, right.” you shouldn't have thought so highly of yourself over baking. To Owen, they probably weren’t good, just something to give his appetite.
“Well... That's not entirely true...” The foodie looks to the side uncomfortably for a moment from Heather’s harsh perspective,“Having eaten a lot of things gives me a solid judgement on a variety of tastes. With that said, I’d specifically be really happy to eat (Y/N)’s baked cupcakes again. You can't buy that kind of quality!"
Aw! “Thanks, Owen!” it’s no mystery why everyone was in his support back first season!
“You didn’t use any store bought cake mix, did you?” DJ asks, his naturally kind pitch of voice crunching up an otherwise accusing delivery his words may have played.
“Nope! If I was gonna have half of the ingredients already done for me, I may as well have just ordered the finish product.” the truth radiates through your magnetism, not as magnetizing as your husband, smothering you away in his arms.
For some reason, no one said anything right away. Like taking an exam, silence had scattered among these group of teenagers.
"I'm convinced she has Stockholm syndrome."
Up till Harold breaks it.
"Stockholm syndrome?! Come onn, you know that’s not a real thing!” Lindsay asserted, turning to Beth,“Is it a real thing?"
The nice-hearted nerd smacks a hand to her forehead. Rather than finding humor in uninformed Lindsay, Trent finds his eyes trapped on the sight of Chris’ hand holding onto yours, fingers locked, palms resting. Above all his faults, Chris...still had you.
That kind of love...hard to find, lucky to have.
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bb-sg · 1 year
Note
Not sure what your limit is but can you pls do jealousy HCs for these jjk men: Toji Gojo Nanami Sukuna Geto? Lmk if tooo much >.<
It’s not too much! I only did 3 of these guys for now but plan on finishing the other two this weekend and making it a whole HC. Thank you for the idea! 🥹 Here’s the start of it, hope you like!
Jealously HC for JJK Men- Part 1!
TW: Sm*t, rough s*x, jealous/yandere theme, degradation.
Let me know if I missed any.
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Gojo:
• Doesn’t understand why you insist on wearing clothes that show off your legs and ample shape in public. He is the only one who should be honored and lucky enough to see your exposed skin.
• Walks behind you whenever your wearing a skirt, so he’s the only one that gets to see that view.
• Watches how strangers interact with you closely. Waiting to step in when someone gets too close or their eyes start to wander over your body too much
• He will hang off of you, drape his arm over your shoulder, hold you around the waist when he feels the gaze of the vultures just waiting to swoop in and steal you from him.
• Gojo wants to stake his claim on you publicly, making it impossible for you to seek attention anywhere else but from him. He buys you a necklace with his clan's name on it and expects you to wear it whenever you’re not with him.
• Gojo is annoyed when strangers try to flirt with you, or give you attention, but knows that they could never replace him, not unless you want them to.
• Which is why he sees red when he watches you from afar, laughing and giggling with your best guy friend.
• He fantasizes about ripping your friend to shreds when Gojo sees him touching your arm, giving you his sweatshirt to wear or when he catches him stealing glances down your shirt or up your skirt.
• loses his patience when he sees your friend trying to wrap an arm around you when you say you are cold. Gojo warps between the two of you, pulling you close and teasing you for not bringing a jacket even though he told you to. He pretends he hasn’t been watching the two of you, seething at the thought of someone laying a finger on what is his.
• He grabs your hand and pulls you into the nearest bathroom so he can bend you over the sink and make you scream. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you are loud enough for your friend to hear.
• He uses the necklace he gave you as leverage while he takes his anger out on you, thrusting deep inside you. He pulls the necklace tight enough that the imprint of his name will be left on your neck for everyone to see.
• “If you want to act like a slut then I’ll go ahead and treat you like one.”
Nanami:
• Claims that he is not a jealous lover, understanding that he cannot truly own you, even if he wants to.
• Doesn’t care that you wear short skirts and skin-tight clothes because he knows this is all superficial, it is the intimacy between you two that is important.
• Nanami lets all the looks and glances of others slide by without concern until he meets your so-called “work husband”
• When he comes to visit you at your job and finds a man leaning over your shoulder, as you type away at your laptop, Nanami starts to worry.
• Nanami sees how you and this man interact and he wants to tell you to quit your job. He watches as you two share inside jokes, laughing, talking like you two have known each other for years.
• When you invite your “work husband” to meet your actual husband, Nanami grips the man’s hand so hard during the handshake that the man winces.
• Nanami tries to brush it off as workplace friendships but can’t shake the feeling that this man is sharing a part of your life with you that he will never be able to reciprocate.
• Nanami has had enough when you come home smiling and laughing about something that your “work husband” said today. He wants to be the reason you are smiling.
• He decides to remind you who is supposed to be the one to make you feel good by burying himself so deep inside you that you forget all about that “work husband” of yours.
• When you try to cover your face while reaching your high, he stops and makes you watch him, forcing you to come undone around him.
• “Look at me, I want you to see who is making you cum. See who makes you feel this good, and know that nobody else can make you cum like this.”
• Nanami claims that he isn’t a jealous lover, but he just happens to keep your phone nearby so he can “accidentally” call your pathetic work husband when you are screaming for him.
Toji
• Toji doesn’t care what you wear, because he knows that he’ll be able to break any man’s jaw if they so much as try to speak to you.
• He almost enjoys watching you flaunt yourself around in public knowing that you know you are his and no one else’s.
• He doesn’t even mind when he sees his friends ogling you when you bend down to tie your shoe.
• What he does mind is seeing you leaning over a pool table trying to make a shot while his friend has nestled in behind you, pressed against you to help show you how to sink the ball. He knows you know how to play pool better than him, wondering why you let him be that close to you.
• Toji makes eye contact with you while you give him a sly smile. You wiggle your ass against his friend while watching him fume with rage. He finally cracks when his friend's hand grips your waist tightly.
• He knows you are trying to antagonize him but still gives into his anger. His trigger finger more than ready. You’ve been naughty by letting another man touch you, touch what he owns.
• Within seconds, he is pulling you away from his friend and forcing you to your knees. He leans against the pool table.
• “Open your mouth and show him whose whore you really are.”
• Toji slides his cock down your throat so far that your nose is touching his pelvis.
• He makes his friend watch as he uses you like a flashlight, gripping your hair for leverage. He needs to know that his friend is aware that he can never have you like this.
• After he cums in your mouth, he makes you hold it on your tongue and show his friend before he spits into your mouth and commands you to swallow.
• He will take you into a more private room to give you your punishment for thinking you could even think about leaving him for another man. Making you Yelp and cry out with every spank he delivers to your ass.
• “You thought this was a fun game didn’t you? I’ll fuck you dumb so you will never have those stupid thoughts ever again.”
Reblogging and likes are appreciated. Please do not copy or repost without credit.
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hjparisian · 11 months
Text
speak now or forever hold your peace- harry j potter x reader
p: harry j potter x reader (she/her pronouns) w: not proofread, bit of swearing, mean ginny (it's for the plot i swear i love her shes so slay) a/n: in honor of speak now tv being announced (and exams being over) i decided to write this lil thing. pls note i have not been to a wedding so excuse how its written.
It was the day that (Y/N) was dreading the most. Harry and Ginny's wedding day. She was honestly shocked that she was even invited, though she assumes it was cause of Harry. Though she was friendly with the Weasley's, she was never really close with Ginny.
(Y/N) and Harry briefly dated during fourth year but decided to remain friends. But the feelings never really left (Y/N). Even after she saw him go after Cho and Ginny, there was always a part of (Y/N) that would always love Harry.
She was debating on just staying home, wallowing in pity while eating her favorite ice cream and watching whatever was on the telly. But (Y/N) knew that Harry wanted her to go, and she couldn't ignore her best friend's wishes.
So now here she was, at the venue in a lavender colored dress, deciding if she should just run away now. As she ready to back out, she heres a voice calling her name.
"(Y/N)!"
(Y/N) turns around and sees Harry walkings towards her with a grin on his face. Well, fuck. So much for escaping.
"Hey Harry." She responds, forcing a smile on face. He looks good, she thought. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt underneath the jacket. Even though it was simple, he made it look beautiful.
"I didn't think you'd come," Harry says sheepishly. (Y/N) speaks, "Well I couldn't miss my best friends wedding. Also, I didn't think you'd let me stay home." Harry chuckles at that.
"So," (Y/N) started. "How are you feeling? It's your big day after all."
"In all honesty, I'm really nervous," He says. "I just have a feeling that maybe this isn't right." (Y/N) was shocked at that part.
"What do you mean? Isn't this what you've been wanting? You were crushing on Ginny since sixth year and now you got her."
Harry sighs. "I know, I know. But I can't help but think that it should've someone else. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't have done this."
Someone else? As much as (Y/N) wanted to know who he was thinking, it wasn't important. "Harry, the Weasleys would probably kill you if you called off the wedding. Besides, it's probably just nerves like you said, so don't let it get to you."
"But I can't get this feeling to go away," Harry says. "I think it would be just as bad if I were to marry Ginny while thinking about someone else than calling off the wedding.
He examines (Y/N), eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes. "(Y/N), I think I-"
"Harry!" The two turn to see who it was, finding Hermione running towards the two. "Oh hello, (Y/N)!" She smiles before turning back to Harry. "Do you know where Ginny's bouquet is? We can't find it. Oh, and Ron thinks he's lost the rings. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley have gone mad and won't stop yelling."
Harry lets out a groan, "I better go figure this out. (Y/N) I'll catch you in a bit." He runs off, leaving (Y/N) and Hermione alone.
Hermione turns to look at (Y/N) before speaking. "How are you feeling?"
"If I'm being honest Hermione. I feel like shit," (Y/N) complained.
Hermione was always there for (Y/N) and vice versa. She was there when (Y/N) and Harry first got together and when they ended it. She watched as (Y/N) gazed at Harry with Ginny during sixth year. Hermione knew that (Y/N) still loved Harry.
"You know, I was kind of thinking it would always be you and Harry." Hermione said. "I think Ron did too. Don't get me wrong, Ginny is a good girl, but I could never really see her and Harry together."
(Y/N) spoke, "Well, I guess that's how it's gonna be. But Harry's not sure if he wants to go through with it. Says he feels like there's someone else. As much as I don't want to see Harry getting married to someone else, I don't want the Weasleys to hate him for calling it off." There seemed to be a flicker of realization through Hermione's eyes, seeming to piece some unknown puzzle together.
"(Y/N), have you ever thought that maybe he misses you? I saw the way he was looking at you when I was looking for him, and it's definitely not a way friends normally look at each other."
Before the two could say anything else, there was a faint "Hermione! Where are you?" Hermione sighed. "I should go back. But (Y/N), think about it, and think about what you want." She turns and runs off, leaving (Y/N) alone.
(Y/N) began to walk around the venue, not ready to sit down and anxiously wait for the worst thing to happen. "What do I truly want?" She thought. She certainly didn't want to see Harry marry Ginny. And is there really a chance he misses her?
While deep in her thoughts, she bumps into the man that she was thinking about. "Oh! I'm sorry Harry, I should've been looking," She says.
"It's alright (Y/N)." He smiles at her. "I should prolly get going though, you should too, the wedding is about to start." He starts to leave, but a hand grabs his wrist before he could keep going.
"Wait, Harry," (Y/N) says. "What if you don't go through with this? Let's just leave, we can sneak out the back door!"
"But (Y/N), you said-" (Y/N) cuts him off. "I know what I said, but you should follow your intuition. If there's really someone else you're thinking about, you can't marry Ginny!"
"It's too late-" "It's not too late Harry! You can still back out!"
"(Y/N) I-" There a voice that cuts him off.
"Hey, Harry!" It was Ron. "We gotta go mate, the weddings about to start."
"Oh right," Harry says. "(Y/N) I'll see you." He smiles sadly as both him and Ron leave.
(Y/N) decides to go inside and take her seat between two people she didn't know. It seemed like everyone in the world was here just for this one wedding. Well, it is the wedding of the Chosen One so, guess it makes sense.
The wedding music began playing. Out comes Ginny in a big poofy wedding dress, strutting with high confidence. If it weren't for the fiery orange hair contrasting it, (Y/N) would've thought she looked like some sort of pastry.
She turns to look at Harry, only to see him looking back at her. Upon seeing she noticed, he move his gaze to Ginny as she now stood in front of him.
The priest began speaking. "We are gathered here today to..." But (Y/N) could barely listen. Worried for her friend who was about to marry someone he no longer loved. And even though Harry managed to defeat Voldemort, there's no way this man is going to back out of a wedding to the family that took care of him during his Hogwarts years.
"...to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Ginny smiles before saying, "I do!" The priest turns to Harry. "And do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginerva Molly Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
There was a moment of silence, everyone excited to hear Harry say those two words. "I um," he mutters out. If one looked closely at Ginny Weasley, they could see her eyes almost glaring at him. "Come on Harry." She quietly says to him.
"I-er, I do," Harry says.
"If there is anybody in this room who can show just cause why these two should not join in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Silence. The one and final chance to stop this from happening.
The priest began to speak, "Well I-" A figure in a lavender dress stands up, shaking visibly. Loud gasps fill the room, everyone wondering who is this girl that's stopping the event of a lifetime. Ginny was fuming. Mrs. Weasley looked like she could faint. Hermione looked shocked but started to seem somewhat proud at the girl. And finally Harry, looking both stunned and relieved.
"I object." (Y/N) exclaims. "I'm sorry Weasleys but, I can't let Harry get married without hearing how I feel about him." She turns to Harry. "Harry, I've been in love with you since the moment we met on the train when we were eleven. Even when we broke up in fourth year and decided to stay friends, I still loved you. Seeing you with Cho and Ginny hurt me, but I never wanted to say anything because you looked so happy. But I'm still in love with you. If you still love me, I'll be outside if you want to join me. But if you love Ginny more, I understand and support your choice, and I hope you'll have a great marriage."
She walks away, not looking back to see what he might say. The audience looks at Harry and Ginny, who looks ready to burst.
"I cannot believe the audacity of that bitch! She just shows up and ruined our wedding!" She screams. "Thank goodness she fucking left. Now we can finish this, right Harry?"
Harry was staring at the door where (Y/N) exited. The one girl that was there during every single adventure at Hogwarts, was in love with him. The one girl he's been thinking about and missing lately, was so close to being in his arms.
"Harry!" His eyes land on Ginny. "They're waiting! Just one kiss and we're finally married."
"Ginny, I can't marry you."
The crowd gasps and Harry's ninety-nine percent sure Mrs. Weasley fainted this time.
Tears started lining Ginny's eyes. "Why not?! Cause of her? You're gonna leave me for her?"
Harry felt somewhat bad for the girl. She was about to get married to the man of her dreams only for him to end it. "I'm sorry Ginny, I still love her. And it wouldn't be fair for me to marry you when I'm missing someone else. You're a nice girl, Ginny and you deserve someone better."
Harry starts running out to find (Y/N). "Harry don't you dare!" He hears Ginny scream, but he doesn't turn back. Only focusing on finding the one he loves.
"(Y/N)! (Y/N) where are you!" He screams.
He hears his named being called by her. "Harry!" He sees (Y/N) running towards him. "Absolutely stunning" he thought to himself.
(Y/N) jumps into Harry's arms, almost knocking them over. "I still love you (Y/N)," Harry says to her. "I love you. You're the one I want to be with."
Harry smashes his lips against (Y/N)'s. Proving to her that he's all hers. She kisses back, hands on his shoulders while Harry's was on her waist.
Harry was the first to pull back, staring at how beautiful (Y/N) looked. Lips and cheeks tinted from the kiss, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her lavender dress fit her perfectly. She was beautiful, and she was Harry's.
"I love you Harry." She breathes out.
"I love you too (Y/N)," He says.
"Let's run away."
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theitgirlnetwork · 1 month
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What Are You Willing To Do?
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Note: Hey everyone, its time to introduce a new boy to the lineup. Probably our craziest lead boy, Mr. Rafe Cameron. This is a snippet of his upcoming series. The first chapter should be coming out tomorrow along with an update in my other stories: Me and You and Better. I hope you all enjoy the snippet and are excited to embark on this new ride with me. It's gonna be toxic, sweet, and fun. Giving very, I can fix him/daddy I love him energy lol. But that's what Rafe needs! Pls heed the warnings though, this shit is for fun, and not real life, do not go find a crazy motherfucker like Rafe pls...or my oc. Let me know what you think and if you're excited for this story! The aesthetic for our leading lady is already posted. (Milan Cabot aesthetic).
Warning: Depictions of toxic relationships, dom/sub dynamics (throughout the series), obsession, explicit content and language (and everything else bad that comes with Rafe's crazy ass) MDNI.
“Take me home!” 
“Yeah? That’s what you want, kid, that’s exactly where I’ll take you.” Rafe chuckles humorously, pulling his hand from its place on her thigh, leaving the skin he’d been warming with his hand open to the cool night air. “Goin’ the fuck home.”
She watches as his large hand expertly whips the vehicle in the opposite direction of Tannyhill, turning to go down her neighborhood instead. The houses are just as nice, just as expensive, but she knew there would be something missing at her parents home. Rafe’s nonchalant, arrogant demeanor has her blood boiling under her skin in frustration. She wants to wipe the easy look off of his face. “M’not a fuckin’ kid.” she huffs, crossing her arms and leaning her head against the passenger window. 
She feels widened, sharp blue eyes burning into the back of her head as she stares into the dark streets, gasping when she feels the car jolt, tires skirting as the lunatic driver pulls into the shoulder of the road. Before she can react that same large hand is encasing her jaw, pointer finger and thumb pushing into her cheeks as he guides her face to his. “I’m like…I’m genuinely trying to figure out who the fuck you’re talking to.”
She whines a little, leaning into his hand, glancing over to the windows to ensure no one was witnessing this. “Rafe-”
“No, because, I know it’s not fuckin’ me. Like, you know better than that shit.” Rafe says, adjusting his grip, the cool metal of his ring resting against her cheek. “You know, I take bein’ your man like…insanely serious, like always…everything I do is for us. Like, you know that.”
“I…I do…”
“Handle business so I can make sure you have food to eat, buy you have the nicest shit, fuck you real good, m’not gettin’ the issue.”
“M’not saying there’s a problem.” 
Rafe releases his grip fully, taking to cupping her jaw instead, smoothing his thumb down the side of her neck. “And I don’t ask you for much do I, baby? Just hold me down. Listen to me. Trust me to build our life an’ shit, that’s too hard?”
“No, it isn’t, m’not saying I’m not grateful, Rafey, it’s just that sometimes-”
“I’m not trying to, like, minimize what you do for me.” Rafe cuts in again, softening his tone and leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “But for this shit to work, princess, I need someone who’s gonna actually ride for me. And uh, I need to know now if you can do that, sweetheart. Got too much shit to do to keep having this conversation. Too many plans for us. You need to decide if you can be my woman.”
“I can, baby, I can.” she sighs, nudging Rafe’s nose with her own, ignorant to what he’d managed to do again, blissfully unaware as her eyes slip closed and her guard slips down. “M’sorry.”
“I know you are. But uh, what are you willing to do to show it?” he asks softly, working to keep the smirk off of his face as he watches the small resolve his girl had mustered crumble as she breathes him in, her knees retreating from facing the window and moving over to him instead.
“Anything, Rafey.”
“Yeah?” he says smugly, tugging her into a deep, nasty kiss, tonguing her down with his hand hooked in the necklace he’d bought her, holding her to him. “That’s good t’a hear, pretty girl. M’gunna hold you to that shit.” he murmurs against her lips before lightly nudging her back into her seat and starting the car, mumbling under his breath as he drives them to Tannyhill.
“‘Take me home.’ Must’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”
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bad268 · 9 months
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Can I get something small and smutty-ish (if you do it, if not just suggestive or fluffy) for Grizzy, Pezzy, Droid, and Puffer falling for the reader and realizing it/confessing after too many drinks? Reader obviously feels the same. Separate or all together is good :)
Definitely not requesting this after reading your Droid fiction lol
If you don't wanna do all of them, just do Puffer pls and thanks
Drunk in Love (Frog Boys X Reader (Separate))
[Blank] in Love Pt 1
Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous
Requested: Clearly (Short but I did write all four :))
Warnings: Alcohol
Pronouns: They/them
W.C. 732 (about 180 words each)
Summary: Everyone gets drunk and everyone confesses.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~
Puffer
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The one night I let my friends convince me to go to the bar is the same night they all get plastered. I didn’t. I am the parent friend of the group, so I was the designated driver for the night. I had one drink as soon as we got here, but that was my limit.
I was sitting at a hightop, nursing a water as I watched the guys dancing. When Droid noticed I was watching them, he jokingly grinded on Puffer.
“Aye woah!” Puffer shouted. Even I could hear it clearly from my spot, causing me to choke on my water. He must have said something to Droid because he immediately walked, or stumbled, over to the table I was at. “I am drunk.”
“Oh really?” I asked sarcastically as he leaned onto my shoulder, so I wrapped my arms around him. “I couldn’t tell.”
“Can I be real, real quick?” He asked, hiding his face in my neck. I nodded, wanting to know what nonsense came from him. “I’m in love with you.”
“Yup, you are definitely drunk.”
~~
Pezzy
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“We’ve got Y/Username here and we’re gonna drink and do unban appeals,” Pezzy said after he started up the stream.
“We’re already two to three drinks deep, so this should be interesting,” I laughed.
“Alright, the first one just kept repeating, ‘your s/o’s hot. Can I get their number?’ This was August 9th, the day we did that IRL Mario Kart stream. Your computer was down,” Pezzy laughed but it did not sound like his normal laugh. Almost like he was forcing it. “ But uh, no you can’t get their number.”
“Also, I’m just his roommate,” I smiled at the camera, seeing Pezzy still
“Not yet,” Pezzy muttered after he downed the last of his beer.
“Take me on a bike ride when we’re sober, and we’ll see,” I said with an eye roll, thinking the confession was a joke.
“Tomorrow morning work for you?”
“Yeah,” I responded in shock at how quickly he answered. Then, I leaned closer to my microphone,  whispering about Pezzy as if he wasn’t right next to me, “Guys, I’m gonna be a backpack.”
~~
Droid
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“On the road again,” Puffer sang as we played the truck simulator. “Just cruisin’ with my three gay lovers on the road again!”
“What the fuck?” Droid shouted in response as everyone else made similar oppositions. “I would not bottom for you, Puffer.”
“You say that like you’d be willing to bottom someone in this call, Droid,” I laughed as I took a drink of my beer, accidentally flipping my truck in the process.
“I’d bottom for you any day,” He replied as seriously as a drunk man could. “Name a time and a place. I’ll be there.”
“This just got super sexual super quick,” Pezzy laughed.
“Tomorrow night, my place,” I challenged.
“You’re on,” Droid accepted.
“I do not need to be listening to this,” Grizzy groaned. “And the fans. Did you forget y’all are streaming?!”
“Y’all joke about sucking dick live,” I pointed out. “Why can't I joke about topping Droid?”
“Oh, you were joking? I was dead serious,” Droid responded, pulling up my stream and seeing my blushing face.
“If you remember in the morning, text me.”
~~
Grizzy
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It was Grizzy’s 21st birthday, and we had just gotten back to his house after dinner. The guys decided that they wanted to stream Mario Party, and since it was only a four-person game, I decided to sit off-camera and drink with Grizzy.
“If you win I’ll give you something, birthday boy,” I laughed, downing my fourth drink of the night. 
“Anything? Really?” Grizzy asked quickly, also finishing his drink. I nodded as I reached behind to get us each a new drink. He took a second to think about what he wanted before lighting up, “What about a kiss?”
“If you're serious, I’ll give you a kiss if you win,” I laughed at his answer as I also heard the boys in the call laughing at Grizzy’s rizz. 
“Everyone throw, so I can win and I’ll give you 10 gifted!” He shouted into the microphone as Puffer started the lobby.
In all honestly, I didn’t think he would win, nor did I think he would remember this in the morning. It made me fill with butterflies at his confession. I just wish he was sober.
~~
Next Part ->
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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cordeliasdarling · 10 months
Text
Birthday (Larissa Weems x Reader)
Notes: This is a random piece about Larissa and reader both being students at nevermore. Reader is popular, Larissa not so. (I know I’m so sorry it’s a bit sad.) I saw a prompt ages ago that inspired this so creds to them idk who.
Let me know if you want a part two! And pls don’t let this flop haha :0
****
To say I was popular.. well yes, you'd be right. I'd worked hard for it, looking perfect, getting high grades. Of course my natural personality was a winner amongst my peers at Nevermore academy. It made me feel good, more than just for my ego. I liked to know that people liked me for me. I wasn't fake, I said things as they were, and luckily it wasn't rejected.
"Hello, earth to (Y/N)!" I jolted out of my personal monologue by my best friend, Cleo. When we'd met for the first time, we clicked instantly. She knew me better than anyone else, and I loved it. And I knew her the same way.
"Sorry, just daydreaming." I chuckled quietly and glanced around at the surroundings. We were sat on the freshly cut green grass in the courtyard. It was a warm day with a refreshing breeze. Perfect for lounging around. Just beyond me and Cleo were the rest of my friend group, who were all talking, laughing. I enjoyed the company.
Then something caught my eye, actually someone.
She had silvery blonde hair, and was much taller than any girl in the school, and not just because we were the oldest in the school (we were all in our last year). The school uniform brought out her deep crystal eyes, in a way that made me smile automatically. Larissa Weems was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Cleo nudged me, a grin on her face.
"I don't know why you don't just ask her out. What's the worst that can happen?"
I rolled my eyes, a sigh escaping my lips. My eyes were still on Larissa, watching as she walked along the open corridor on the side of the grass. Her eyes were on the ground, probably watching where she was going because due to her height, she often bumped into the shorter students, forgetting her stride was bigger than others.
"She most likely will be straight. Then turn me down, laugh in my face, and leave me all alone forever." Groaning, I leaned back, laying down properly on the grass.
"You should invite her to your birthday party." Cleo suggested, taking a sip of her water bottle, which she'd slid in a few ice cubes to keep her cool in the summer heat.
"She doesn't go to parties." Well, that's just what I'd gathered from all the parties I'd been to, she'd never been there, much to my disappointment. Having drinks in our systems may have given me more courage to talk to her.
Before Cleo could reply, one of my friends approached us, causing my eyes to leave Larissa just as she disappeared through a door.
"Hi, Mary." A welcoming smile on my face, as usual. She smiled back, sitting closer, in front of Cleo.
"I was wondering if you could help me with the Math homework? It's totally okay if not." People often asked me for such favours, as it was no secret that I got top grades, and I was always happy to help.
"Yes, of course!"
**
"Alright everyone, today we're moving to the greenhouse for the lesson." Mrs Faye called out to everyone before they could sit down. A faint groan was heard, because we all knew how hot it would be in there. But we didn't protest, mainly because we all loved Mrs Faye, and she always made our lessons fun.
There were desks already set up in front of tables with a plant pot on all of them. All of the students grouped together in twos, though I hung back, deciding which table I would go to with Cleo. But she nudged me, secretly gesturing to Larissa who hadn't partnered up yet. My eyes widened, knowing what she was suggesting.
"No!" I whispered, but Cleo had walked off with someone else, sending a wink my way. Internally I groaned, knowing I'd have to woman-up. So I approached Larissa, a faint smile on my lips, almost grinning as her eyes met with mine. I was lost for a moment, looking up at the girl I had the biggest crush on. And she had no idea, because I was secretly an awkward lesbian.
"Hey, wanna partner up?" I asked, cursing to myself because my tone didn't sound confident enough. She nodded, her expression softening. I felt a pang of sadness for her, because she was always the last one to be picked. It shouldn't be that way.
We walked to the last available bench and sat down, facing the front.
Mrs Faye talked us through the project, and soon we were left to our own devices, having to dissect a flower to see the roots and whatnot.  At the same time, we grabbed the scalpel to start. A blush appeared on my cheeks, whereas Larissa just smiled that beautiful smile.
"Sorry." Mumbling, letting her take it and begin the work. My eyes watched her movements, wondering what her larger hands would feel like linked with mine. I was short, well not short in the grand scheme of things, but just smaller than the average nineteen year old. Did that make me and Larissa Weems less compatible? I hoped not.
The lesson went by in a blur, mostly me letting Larissa do all the work, something that was unlike me, but I was just very busy. By busy, I meant building up the courage to ask Larissa to my birthday party. It couldn't be that hard, just a few simple words. But the feeling of rejection was something I never wanted to feel. I'd always had an easy time when it came to dating. All boys though, much to my distaste, but that was the consequence of not coming out.
"Larissa?" My tone was even, not holding confidence or nervousness. She tilted her head to the side, making eye contact with me. I nearly ran out of oxygen, looking into those deep ocean blue eyes.
"Yes?" Her voice was smooth, velvety even.
"Would you.. would you like to come to my birthday party tomorrow?" Urgh, I hated the way my pathetic voice sounded so hopeful. I hoped she didn't detect it.
She didn't say anything for a full minute, seemingly lost in thought. Eventually she shook her head slowly. "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow."
My heart sunk, hanging my head in despair. So this is what rejection felt like, a crushing feeling in my gut.
"Oh, that's totally okay." I forced a smile, staring at the now dissected plant as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Damn this. Of course the prettiest girl in school wouldn't want to come to my party. Literally almost everyone in my year would be there, except for her.
Mrs Faye then called out to the class, dismissing us all as the hour was up. Time flew fast, it seemed.
Larissa left the class before me, grabbing her bag and exiting quickly. I tried not to stare, but I didn't really relax until she'd gone completely. Not in a negative way, but because I was so awkward and down.
"So how did it go?" Cleo grinned, her arm slung around my shoulders as we left the greenhouse. I didn't reply, just groaning in a way that I hoped verbalised the rejected feeling.
"Ah. Playing hard to get. Well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She slapped my back in what seemed to be a comforting way, but it just added to the pain. Yes, I know I was just a nineteen year old student with a silly little crush, but Larissa seemed like so much more.
As we walked along the corridor, I spotted the very girl I was mooning over, talking to a small group of people. They all seemed to shake their head in response to something she said. Larissa seemed to smile, though it looked superficial, like something had upset her but she was trying to cover it up. They all dispersed, leaving me in a state of curiousness. I was tempted to go over to the people who were naturally my friends, to ask what that was all about, but we needed to get to our lesson.
And by the end of the day, it had slipped my mind.
**
The next day rolled around, and I was walking out of the changing rooms, having just had track. I was alone, which was unusual, because I had decided to do a couple more laps, insisting my friends should go. They all wanted to get ready for my party anyway.
I slipped on my uniform, not bothering to tuck my shirt into my skirt. Bag on my shoulder, I moved towards the door, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard a muffled sound coming from the toilets. Frowning, I inspected further, walking into joining restroom. The sound happened again, and this time I figured out it was stifled crying. The sound tugged on my heartstrings, because the pain was clear in the tone.
"Hello?" I knocked on the cubicle door softly, and the crying abruptly stopped. The was a long silence before the door opened slowly. It revealed none other than Larissa Weems. My heart sunk further, who hurt my precious girl?
"Oh.. it's you." She mumbled, walking to the tissue dispenser, grabbing a few sheets to dab at her smudged mascara. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine." I followed her, about to place a hand on her arm, but stopped myself, in case she didn't like physical contact. She stared into the mirror, at herself, until her gaze shifted to my reflection.
"Don't you have friends to run off with?" She muttered, eyes now lowering to look at her hands.
"They're not important right now. Can you tell me what's wrong?" I tried my best to make my words as gentle as possible, and it seemed to work because fresh tears filled her eyes as she turned around to face me.
"We have the same birthday but everyone goes to your party, not mine." Her voice cracked, looking away in some type of shame.
It all clicked, the reason why she was 'busy', the reason those people were shaking their heads, as they weren't going to her celebration, they were going to mine. I didn't even know her birthday was on the same day as mine.
"Oh, Larissa.." I whispered, my arms opening to embrace her. She didn't move away, instead stiffening up. "I'm sorry." Though those two words didn't do much comfort.
"It's fine." She sounded cold, and suddenly pushed me away gently. Tears were in my eyes now, just like hers, except she had fiercely wiped them away.
"Have fun." She then left, her footsteps quick against the lino flooring, leaving me speechless. I wiped away one tear. I had caused her pain, and that I would never forgive myself for.
I had to make this right, I had to make her feel better, in whatever way possible.
So I furrowed my eyebrows to come up with some sort of plan.
****
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