#Always doing the most on stage in front of an audience
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hyohaehyuk · 3 months ago
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Both Sam and Jacob imitating their coworkers/showrunners
wretchedsapphic: a moment for the rolin impression Ă  la sam in honor of national rolin jones day
iownthen1ght: just jacob imitating ben daniels' voice for almost 2 minutes (and sam and the rest of the cast reacting to this đŸ˜‚â€). Plus Sam patting Jacob's thigh twice
Video: The 92nd Street Y, New York - 'Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire' Season 2: Cast and Creators in Conversation
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lilidawnonthemoon · 15 days ago
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#HERE THEY ARE đŸ€đŸ©”đŸ’œ in the place where they are the most beautiful#6 stars shining the brightest on stage together in front of buddies 🌠#congrats my precious girls on completing 2/3 concerts so wonderfully & good luck for the last one tonight!!#29 (!!!) songs & almost 3 hours long đŸ€Ż theyre so incredibly hard working and their discography is so amazing#watching the videos give me so much joy đŸ„č this is by far the most beautiful special & emotional part on the 10th anniversary celebrations#I can tell how much they wanted to do this for buddies and also for themselves/ eachother#their passion energy & smiles despite some not feeling their best
 their interactions with eachother & buddies their goofiness đŸ„č nothing#changed and Ive missed it all so much!! there is truly no other group like them đŸ„°#the set list being so long (Crush Wind trilogy the ballads Only 1.. also Apple & Mago being performed for the first Time in front of an#audience!!) & the songs/ choreos still sounds & looks so amazing & fresh! oh GLegend you are so iconic & timeless đŸ™ŒđŸŒ#the VCRs the loud fanchants (UMJI YAAA) the girls being Yuju’s voice (my mainline đŸ„č) the random dance break the Always encore with them#jumping like crazy and making buddies jump too 😭 made me so happy I wish I could experience this so badly#the outfits all being so nice and when they switch to black for the sexy GFriend portion ooooh their versatility is crazy â€ïžâ€đŸ”„#also loved how they reminded f*cking So Sungjin in the audience that the company used to only have 4 employees & how buddies refused to#cheer for him lmao#I’m beyond proud of these incredibly talented hardworking resilient kind girls đŸ€đŸ©”đŸ’œ#WE LOVE YOU GODFRIEND THANK YOU AGAIN FOR COMING BACK TO US đŸ’«#you always give me so much strenght & joy#forever by your side#GFriend#Season of Memories#concert#performance#stage#10th anniversary#magical#beautiful#ggs#girl groups#kpop
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riboism · 2 months ago
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tear you apart
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》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader
》 wc: 3.3k
》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.
》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut
🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin
It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.
Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season. 
Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you. 
"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.
"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."
There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment. 
It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful. 
Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist. 
The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented. 
From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.
His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.
Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast. 
—
It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.
You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.
The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.
Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.
Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door. 
“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you. 
“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”
He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.
“I’m Y/N.” 
"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."
You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.
He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.
Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.
"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."
The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.
That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there. 
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.
“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.” 
There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?
“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 
He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away. 
"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again. 
"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.
"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"
Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted
 it causes complications."
He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.
"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little
 issue of mine."
Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter. 
"And how exactly would I
 help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."
—
You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles. 
The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves. 
“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.” 
You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.
“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.
“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin. 
“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter. 
You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will. 
His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest. 
“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”
—
You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis. 
You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds. 
“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily. 
Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.
Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away. 
Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt. 
Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.
“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.
You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled. 
Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.
“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.” 
Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”
You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.
Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity. 
When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.
He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.
Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.
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tbaluver · 6 months ago
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hello~! i’d like to request a scenario/hc for the l&ds men wherein they attend their toddler!daughter’s first ballet dance recital? i had this idea in my head and i thought it would be cute to see how supporitve and proud they’ll be~ thank you and have a great day ahead!!
Attending Your Daughter's Recital- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
a/n: hi anonnie! this was a cute idea they would be such cute dads im literally sobbing at the idea ;-; i hope you enjoy and have a great day too! <3
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
â‹†ïœĄâ€§ËšÊšâ™ĄÉžËšâ€§ïœĄâ‹†
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Xavier:
Your husband is always sleepy but the big day for your daughter's performance he was up and early. He would try to help with your daughter's hair but eventually it got tangled and messy so you had to excuse him and let you do all the work. Before you went to recital area, he would take you both to your daughter's favorite restaurant before she performs so she's full.
Your daughter would be really nervous performing but Xavier was always there to reassure her. His gentle words and encouragements helped calm any nerves and made the moment and their bond extra special. He would also bring her favorite plushie since birth to help calm her down before they went to the stage. He would also remind her that if they truly didn't want to perform then she didn't have too.
When your daughter does perform, he would have the biggest smile ever as he watches her gracefully dance across the stage. He would have his camera ready and only zoomed in on her.
After the performance, when your child runs to you both, he’ll lift them up into a warm, celebratory hug, showering them with compliments and expressing how incredibly proud he is of them for performing so bravely, despite their nerves.
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Zayne:
He would cancel and move any appointments with his patients on the following day of his child's performance. Any checkups or surgeries would have to wait so he could be watch his little baby perform.
He would settle into the seat right next to you and chat while waiting for the curtains to open. When your child steps onto the stage, she'll scan the audience. When she sees you and Zayne, she'll be beaming with a smile. You and your child know how often Zayne would be busy due to his schedule but he always tries to find the time for you and your child. If he couldn't, he would always try to make up for it.
As he watches your child performs, he would be flooded with so much nostalgic memories. From the early days of ultrasound pictures to their first steps, first words, and now performing on a stage, each milestone has been a cherished memory for you both. His pride in your child is so profound that his usually stoic expression melts into a wide smile.
When the performance is over, your child would run up to you both giving you each a big hug. He would shower compliments to your daughter telling them they did so well and the outfit that you made for them is amazing. Would also have a bouquet of flowers ready for your child after the performance. When you guys get home, you both would prepare a dinner that your child's favorite to celebrate their beautiful performance.
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Rafayel:
He could not be more excited to watch your little baby perform on the stage. He was the type of dad that would go to their practice and watch them perform. If he didn't get a chance to attend their practice then he would ask what new moves or what they learned at home. He would also learn the new moves with them just in case they forgot or so they don't feel embarrassed.
You and Rafayel would design their outfits and your daughter would literally have the most prettiest outfits compared to all the other girls.
You both would be front row and center so your child can see you both. He would have the biggest smile as you both watched your child dance across the stage. He would enthusiastically dance along in his seat, ready to offer a reassuring nod or subtle guidance if his child happened to forget any moves during their recital.
When the performance ended and your child ran to you both, he would scoop them up, spin them around, and shower them with kisses, all while expressing how incredibly proud he was of them. He would also take a million photos and videos before, during, and after the show.
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Sylus:
The feared Onychinus leader appearing at his children's recital. He wouldn't dare to miss it! Yes he may be a leader but that can all be put aside for now because he will try to be there for his child whenever he can.
You and Sylus would be wearing matching outfits that your daughter has chosen for the both of you as a 'good luck' charm. Obviously how can he say no to you or your little baby? Whether that outfit is ridiculous or not, he'll still proudly show it off.
He would bring his daughter's uncles, Luke and Kieran to the recital. Luke, Kieran, and your daughter begged you both if they could come. They're the second biggest fans of your child, you and Sylus being the first. They both would cheer and clap the loudest to let them know that your child was the best one there.
When your child was finished performing, your child would run up to you both giving you a big hug and then her uncles a big hug. He would twirl your child around telling them how wonderful they look and how wonderful they performed before giving them a bouquet of flowers.
You all would go to your child's favorite restaurant, letting them order whatever they wanted. When you all go home you all watch the recorded videos that Sylus recorded so they can see how well they did and maybe they'll even perform an encore.
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joonjuul · 15 days ago
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r u mine? jjk
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pairing: rockstar!jk x reader
wc: 6k
warnings: fboy!jk, dom!jk, hookup/one night stand, crazy bar bathroom sex, hickies, bruising, choking, mirror play, overstimulation (f receiving), light finger (f receiving), light crying kink, reader is crazy horny smh, this is disgusting im so sorry
a/n: first fic on here whats up yall
‧.â‹†ïœĄÂ°
the dim lighting surrounds you in a hazy room, feel the sweet stink of smoke fill your lungs as you inhale the second-hand killer. you feel your stomach stir as you relish in the scent and nostalgia of a good cigarette, silently kicking yourself for quitting two months prior.
you make your way through the crowd, bumping aimlessly against shoulders as your hand grips tighter to your drink. although this isn’t your first time here, there’s nothing like admiring the faces of strangers and passersby that you may never see again, wondering what brought them to this place.
‘sal’s’ was for the low of the low, you only came here if you were a teenage delinquent trying to escape your brutal parents, a washed up inbred fuck up who peaked in high school, or a hooker trying to make ends meet. fortunately, you’re none of those things.
sal’s was your spot, it always has and always will be. it was the only place relating to the general public that you could emotionally withstand. people left you alone here, at least for the most part.
“hey watch it.” a voice rasped in your direction as you miscalculated whether or not you could squeeze between a tighter crowd.
“sorry.” you feel your eyes locked momentarily. as long as you’d been coming to sal’s, you’d never seen a face quite like his. he surprisingly doesn’t look inbred, definitely not a delinquent teen, that only leaves one option.
you watch as he smirks down at you gently, his eyes fiery, something within them ravenous, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on for what. as you caught your breath and continued your ministrations to the front of the stage, you take a swig of your drink of choice tonight: neat whiskey. things have been tough lately. you let the bitter liquid slide effortlessly down your throat as you finish off your glass. hopefully its a quick set tonight, i’m tired of fighting groupies off at the bar just to get a simple refill.
you watched as the lights surrounding you began to dim, seemingly thickening the haze. with the screech of a microphone, the night had begun. you often found yourself here on friday nights specifically to get a feel for what kind of talent was swimming through this low-life town these days, you always had a soft spot for rock music, and sal’s was the place for up and coming artists, typically being teenage delinquents, but it’s sal’s so what do we expect?
“alright ladies and gentlemen! thank you so much for coming tonight, we got a great show for you all so hold onto your drinks and give a warm welcome to ‘the tragedies’!” your ears were already ringing and the show hadn’t even started yet. is the crowd normally this loud?
you watched as three silhouettes slowly appeared on stage, their faces not yet visible, even at a close distance. with the thumping of the small stage in front of you, you felt that familiar sensation as the music began to play, the bass vibrating through your chest all the way down to your toes.
“i’m a puppet on a string
” your heart clattered in your chest as the lights came on, a tall, curly headed boy standing before you dressed in all black. he was mesmerizing, his tattooed fingers carefully tracing each and every string of the guitar, his voice raspy as he cradled the microphone with his mouth.
as his eyes finally opened, scanning the faces of each audience member carefully, you felt your heart skip a beat as they carefully landed on yours. your chest only panging faster as you began to realize that he was the man you mistakenly ran over in the crowd only 10 minutes prior. you suddenly felt your cheeks heat at the realization, watching as that same sly grin appeared on his lips that you had seen once before.
“when she’s not right there beside me i go crazy
” his voice rang through you like a sinner in church. as anxious as you felt, you couldn’t deny the genuine talent that man had. he wasn’t like the normal performers at sal’s, and the audience could easily tell that as well, every last one of them just as intrigued as you. and it wasn’t just him, but his other bandmates too, they were all good, and not too hard on the eyes as well. you wouldn’t be surprised if they were just stopping in as a special appearance, they definitely weren’t locals that’s for sure.
-
as the set came to a close, you found yourself yearning for the feeling of your body vibrating to the music again, taking a moment to catch your breath before heading back over to the bar.
as a sal’s regular, most of the bartenders knew you, as you came in at least once a week. you found yourself mindlessly taking a seat at the bar, directly in front of the taps where you somehow always ended up.
“y/n! enjoy the set tonight?” a voice pulled you out of your daydream as you looked up to the smiling bartender over the counter.
“oh hey puck, yeah you know what i actually did. who are those guys? i’ve never seen them here before.” you questioned, watching as puck began to pour you another whiskey neat, picking you right back up where you left off.
“i heard they’re from korea, trying to spread word about their band over here because rock music isn’t as big there. very modest country, ya know?” puck hands you your drink as you immediately take a sip, feeling your throat tense just as easily as it did with the last glass.
korea huh? it was like he was being handed to you on a silver platter. a beautiful man who was talented, not a delinquent, hooker, or inbred, and the best of all, not from around here. living in a small town like rockville, everyone knew everyone, and let’s just say there hasn’t been a refresh in the dating pool in at least a decade. losing patience is an understatement.
you looked up briefly from your drink to see him approaching the bar, surprisingly taking a seat only two chairs away from you.
“whiskey neat please.” his voice even raspier than before thanks to his set only minutes earlier. you smiled to yourself at his choice of drink before taking a sip of your own, suddenly feeling inclined to look around at the lovely architecture at sal’s, even though you had been there more than my own house. anything to avoid accidentally acknowledging his presence.
“what did you think?” your mind was pulled back to reality at his familiar voice. how can he sound talented even when talking?
you looked over at him to see his eyes already halted on yours. never had you felt small under a man’s gaze until that moment.
“m-me?” you looked around briefly. “it was great. you’re really talented man.” you lifted your drink towards him before taking another sip. your hands sweating even at just a minor interaction said a lot about your love life recently. times have been tough.
“i’m glad you liked it.” he watched as puck placed a fresh glass before him, reaching out and stirring the brown liquid in the glass a few times, admiring the liquor before bringing it up to his lips and taking a swig. he looked down at it, almost as if judging the taste.
“what’s your name?” he places the glass back in front of him, turning his body to face yours completely, running a hand through his shaggy, slightly sweaty hair, and bringing his other up to his shirt pocket, before pulling out a small cardboard box of marlboro reds. my favorites.
“y/n, you?”
you watched as he brought a fresh filter up to his lips, bringing a green lighter up right after it and cupping his hands around it instinctively.
he takes a deep inhale, enjoying every last bit before slowly exhaling the smoke as the words dripped from his mouth, “jungkook. jeon jungkook.”
you looked up at him almost in awe as he lifted the cigarette in your direction, offering you a puff.
you gently reached up to his hand, your fingers brushing against his slightly as you removed the small object from between his fingers and into your mouth, feeling your lungs rejoice as you inhaled slowly.
his eyes never wavered from yours as he watched carefully. his lids heavy from whatever drugs him and his bandmates decided to take before the show.
“aren’t you something?” his voice low and husky as he brought his glass to his lips again.
“forgive me. i quit a couple months ago. i had been behaving until just now.” the smoke filling the air as the words left your mouth. your chest burnt in pleasure, a feeling you had missed deeply. you looked down, your fingers still held it like it was yesterday. you quickly shook the thoughts from your head and reached your hand back out to him, offering him to take it back.
his eyes burned holes in yours, staring at you like he hadn’t blinked once. “you keep that one, love. i think you need it more than i do.” his gaze was dark, his presence more than just intimidating. he was almost painful to be around.
but you kept the cigarette nonetheless, your desire for pleasure overtaking your desire for comfort in this moment. his gaze never faltered as you brought the filter up to your lips once more, almost choking on the smoke as you watched him move to the seat closest to you.
“you’re quiet.” he spoke, his voice gentler than earlier.
you exhaled, creating a cloud of smoke between you both. “i am?”
he nods in response, his eyes tracing your frame, the same smirk from before never leaving his lips. “most girls can’t keep their cool when they see me, but i’ll say you’re doing a pretty good job.”
you quirk your brow in response to his cockiness. “well what makes you think i know who you are?” you lean forward, tapping the end of the cigarette above the nearest ashtray, but your movements are stopped as he grabs your wrist tightly, his eyes burning holes into yours as he guides your hand towards his mouth, placing the cigarette between his lips and inhaling deeply, before leaning back in his chair and tilting his head back, letting the smoke escape his body once more.
god this man was pure sex.
“i guess you’re right, you might not know who i am now, but you’ll want to know soon enough.”
you look up at him, taking the time to examine his tattoos carefully. the way they messily scatter up to his shoulder, getting scarcer as they move down towards his hands.
“and what makes you think that?” you feel the words leave your mouth before you have a chance to think.
he chuckles, his eyes dark as he looks back up to face you, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, his voice just over a whisper.
“trust me baby, you’re gonna want to know who i am.”
his breathing is ragged, bouncing against your face easily at the close proximity. his eyes dancing carefully between yours and your lips, grazing along every mole and bump along the way. you feel your stomach curl at the thought of closing the distance between the two of you, breathing in his air and relishing in the feeling of having his hands touching every nook and cranny your skin has to offer up to him.
“and what if i don’t” you gain your composure enough to formulate a response, but not enough to mask the desire in your voice. and it’s obvious he can tell based on the smug grin across his face.
“then i’ll make you.”
you feel a blush creep across your cheeks as his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. the touch so simple, but coming from him, you could feel yourself melting already.
“such a pretty little thing.” his words raspy as he speaks almost out of breath, and you feel yourself getting hotter, almost overwhelmed by his presence combined with the crowdedness of the bar surrounding you. you feel your legs begin to twitch and shake, the nape of your neck getting stickier and stickier as his soft touch trails down your face and landing on your collarbone.
just breathe, don’t panic.
saying those things to you never help when you have a man like this touching you in ways you’ve never even dreamt.
“e-excuse me, i’m sorry.” you blurt, standing up abruptly and hurrying to the bathroom as fast as you can.
as much as you want to be with him, and you’d kill to let him take you home and do whatever he wants to you, you have nowhere to go.
you fumble into the bathroom, hurriedly locking the door and rushing to the sink, the skin he touched still tingles gently as you splash cool water on your face, doing anything you can to calm myself down.
you open your eyes, facing yourself in the mirror before taking a deep breath. “you can do this y/n, just have sex in his tour bus or something.” as much as being homeless has it’s perks, it definitely doesn’t help in terms of getting laid.
you feel your heart jump slightly at the sound of a gentle knock on the door.
“just a minute.”
your heart jumps again hearing the knock for a second time, your patience growing thin.
“i said just a minute.”
after the third knock you’ve completely lost it, storming to the door and turning the knob slightly.
“you know it’s very rude to-“ your heart stops as jungkook pushes the door open, his hands on your shoulders as he pushes you back into the doorway, using his foot to shut it behind him.
“hey what are you-“ you’re cut short once again at the feeling of his lips enclosing yours, his hands running up your waist and engulfing you fully into his chest. after a small protest on your end, you finally give in, allowing yourself to be completely taken over by him.
his lips never leave yours as he gently backs you into the wall, his hands gripping at any free patch of skin he can find, before landing on your hair and gripping it back harshly to pull you out of the kiss.
“think you can get away from me that easy, hmm?” his eyes dark and wide with lust as they land on your neck, kissing it roughly, hard enough to leave marks.
you feel a gasp escape your lips at his sudden ministrations on your neck, biting your lip to stop from any other noises to escape, but it’s too late. you feel him grin into the crook of your neck before bringing his head out to look at you once more, his hold on your hair tightening as he pulls back again gently.
“what, you like that hmm? you want me to be rough with you, baby?” his words are dripping with sex, lids heavy and lips swollen as he admires your flushed out state, feeling minuscule under him.
“what you don’t know how to respond when someone asks you a question?” he pulls back a little harder now, scalp burning at the sudden sensation.
“n-no i do.” you’re able to meekly respond, still surprised by the sudden intrusion.
“then answer it.” he grits through his teeth, his cocky demeanor from earlier melting into something much more rough and dominant.
“y-yes i l-like it, jungkook.” his ego swells at your words, knowing he can make a submissive, obedient mess out of you just like he did with the last 10 girls, and the last 10 before that.
“good girl, now how much have you had to drink tonight, baby?” his question surprises you, but you answer nonetheless.
“i-i don’t know maybe 3 glasses of whiskey, w-why?” he examines your facial expressions closely, trying to gauge your honesty to him. but he smirks, believing you to be truthful.
“just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. now, is it okay if i touch you, baby?” his words go straight to your core as he leans in to pepper kisses on your neck, soothing the bruises that had been placed there only a couple seconds earlier.
you moan and writhe at the sensitivity, but muster a response before he can grow impatient.
“y-yes. please.” he smiles at your enthusiasm, loving how quickly you opened up to him.
“good girl. now spread.” he nudges his thigh between your knees, and you quickly oblige, allowing him to push your body further into his. you let out a gentle moan at the sensation of his thigh being pressed tightly against your core. you were uncomfortably sensitive and didn’t have the patience for teasing, considering you hadn’t been laid in several years.
jungkook smirks again at your reaction, loving how easily you respond to his touch. he gently brings his hand up and places it on the side of your neck, his other hand tightly gripping your hip to hold you tightly against the wall.
he watches closely as you fight against his hold, trying to gain friction in any way possible. he can’t help the smirk that lands on his lips.
“what’s wrong, love? feeling desperate?” his words taunt you, seeing your flushed out state knowing that his words are only driving you crazier.
“god jungkook shut the fuck up and do something already.” and at that he wastes no time in finding your lips again. his fingers wrapping tightly through your belt loops to pull you closer into him, feeling his bulge through his pants only spurs you on more. your bodies hot as you pant against each other, trying to find friction and skin to grab every which way. it’s not until his hands find the hem of your shirt that you finally feel your nervousness wash away, and your arousal begin pooling beneath you.
you pull away from the kiss briefly as he quickly pulls your shirt off and throws it onto the dirty bathroom floor behind you. the walls lined with graffiti and lights flickering dimly as you both hungrily tear at each other’s skin.
you feel a moan escape your lips as his head ducks down between your breasts, rapidly switching between each one of your boobs, messily leaving sloppy kisses on each one, and twisting your nipples as he pulls away to look at you.
“can’t wait to bend you over that fucking sink over there.” you let out a low groan at his words, his fingers beginning to unbutton your jeans quickly, fumbling with the button here and there before finally unzipping them. he smirks down at you before trailing kisses from your collarbone, down to your stomach.
“you’re gonna look so pretty bent over it begging for me to fuck you.” your gaze follows him, mouth agape slightly as you watch him slowly pull your tight jeans down over your thighs. your arousal on clear display now, making jungkook’s cock twitch in his jeans, his pants suddenly becoming too tight to bare. he lets out a low growl but continues to work your jeans off completely, tossing them behind him to fall somewhere with your shirt.
he leans before you at your feet, gently palming up either one of your thighs, admiring the small mole or freckle he meets along the way, before bringing his hands up to your underwear.
your body tenses under his touch as you feel him wrap either finger around the waistband, teasing you gently as he runs his finger along it, getting dangerously close to your core.
“see that mirror too? don’t let me catch you closing your eyes. i want you to watch while i fuck the shit out of you. see what a fucked out mess you look like when i’m done with you.” his words send shots to your core as you can no longer control the moan leaving your lips.
jungkook reaches a hand down to palm over his pants briefly at your sounds. god they made him animalistic, he’s never heard a girl sound so angelic, he already knows you’re going to take him so well.
he resumes his place on your waistband and pulls your underwear off in one swift motion, leaving them to pool by your feet as he pulls you away from the wall roughly and drags you to the sink, wrapping one arm around your waist tightly, and using his other hand to grab your chin, forcing you to look at yourself.
“look how desperate you look already and i haven’t even started yet. what, has no one fucked you like this before?” his fingers grip your chin tightly as you cower under his hold, feeling so minuscule before shaking your head no.
you quickly register his surprised expression through the reflection in the mirror, but that look is quickly replaced by a cocky grin and a darkness in his eyes.
“don’t worry baby, i’ll take care of you.” he brings his hand from your chin down to your core, teasingly grazing against your clit.
you moan loudly, tossing your head back against his chest. but he’s quick to pull his hand away.
“look at yourself or i’ll walk out of here right fucking now and leave you a needy mess.” his sudden change of tone surprises you, but you obey, opening your eyes and watching as he continues his ministrations between your legs.
he begins rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves, watching you carefully through the mirror. although he’s surprised you’re obeying, he wants to test your limits. he swiftly moves his fingers from your clit, to prodding at your wet hole, making you moan in desperation.
“god please jungkook please.” you beg for anything at this point, anything to soothe the pain within you.
“please what baby?” his voice teasing as he continues to prod at your hole, dipping in gently only to pull back out making you writhe under his hold, squirming aggressively. his gaze through the mirror only making it harder for you to contain your moans.
he pulls his hand away quickly, bringing it to your back and pushing you down against the sink counter.
“dumb fucking bitch stop moving.” you listen as he begins to unbutton his pants, watching carefully through the mirror as his dick springs out between you. big is an understatement. you’re genuinely shocked at his size, your eyes wide and you want nothing more than to start begging for his cock, but you already know you’re on thin ice.
he uses his hand on your back to hold you down against the counter. “move and i take my fucking cock out of you, understood?” your eyes widen at his request.
“wha-“ before you can question him any further, his tip is buried deeply into your cunt, sliding into you in one swift motion.
“f-fuck jungkook.” the words escape your lips as you feel him fill you up completely, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. you moan gently, loving that he’s giving you time to adjust, until you slowly realize, he’s not moving for a reason. you feel the first tear slide down your cheek.
jungkook quickly notices and tries to gauge your response before speaking. he feels no resistance between the two of you, if anything, all he can feel is the arousal dripping down your thighs and coating his balls. he’s never seen a girl get this wet before.
“awww what’s wrong baby, talk to me.” his words are mocking but you can’t help but seek comfort in them, in him.
“y-you’re n-not moving.” you sniffle, your breathing ragged as you look at yourself in the mirror. lips pouted, neck painted in bruises, face wet with tears.
“is that what you want?” jungkook reaches a hand out to your face, watching in the mirror as he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks. “you want me to move baby? you want me to fuck you?”
your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his words spurring you on even more as you nod desperately, looking at him through the mirror.
he smiles sheepishly, feeling a pang of sympathy for you, as well as the pain in the base of his cock begging for some sort of friction.
“use your words, love.” his voice is more gentle now as he strokes your back instead of holding it in place, trying to calm you down from the fucked out mess you’ve become so quickly. he’s never seen a girl get worked up this easily before.
you nod, gulping harshly before speaking, trying to ensure your voice is as stable as possible.
“jungkook, please move. i can’t take it.” your voice comes out in a beg, only making jungkook’s dick twitch more. he groans deeply, looking down at his cock buried deep inside of you, your legs shaking gently between him and the sink counter, and your fucked out state in the mirror before finally deciding to let go.
“if i see you look away from that mirror i stop, understood?” his words go straight to your core as you finally feel like you might get some sort of relief. you shake your head enthusiastically, showing him that you’re ready to take him, all of him.
barely satisfied with your response, but not having the energy to make you speak, he decides to let it go, reaching up and grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you harder than you were prepared for.
you’re embarrassed by the noises that emit from your body as he begins to fuck you mercilessly, his hand on your hair pulling you back slightly only spurring you on more.
“god you’re a noisy little thing aren’t you? you like being fucked like this?” his voice raspier than before if that’s even possible, making you whine and shake even harder. but he no longer has the patience for your unsatisfying behavior.
he quickly yanks your hair, pulling you back against his chest.
“answer me when i’m fucking talking to you.” you gulp, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure but knowing you’ll regret if you don’t follow his orders perfectly.
your voice comes out shaky and quieter than you expected as he continues to fuck into you. “y-yes, i like it fuck i like it a lot. please keep going.”
satisfied with your response he grins, letting go of your hair completely and letting you fall to the counter. his thrusts only getting rougher and more messy as he watches to ensure you’re looking at the mirror.
“good girl, look how pretty you are getting fucked like this.” he reaches his hand forward and brushes a few strands from your face, your mouth agape as he begins to brush against your g-spot with the change of angles.
you can no longer contain the noises coming out of you, screaming in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, hitting you perfectly every. single. time. “fuck kook, don’t stop, p-please keep going fuck.” you know your throat is going to be sore tomorrow with all the screaming, but you don’t care anymore. all you can think about is the way his balls slap against your legs, and the way his hands roam from your face down to your hips and back up again. the words dripping from his mouth that you can barely comprehend, only enough to know that they’re driving you insane. you want more. you need more.
jungkook groans watching as more slick begins to run down your thighs. and even with how wet you were you were still tighter than any girl he’d fucked. he was obsessed with the noises you were making too, they only made him want to fuck you harder, but you were drawing too much attention to them.
he reaches his hand up to your face, covering your mouth to quiet you down slightly. “it’s like you’re begging for someone to come in here and kick us out, baby. shut the fuck up before i make you.”
there was something about every word he uttered that pushed you closer and closer to the edge. you were writhing under his touch, trying impossibly hard to keep your eyes on the mirror as not to upset him, but you were nearing the edge and you were starting to lose control.
“kook, p-please.” you were able to mutter, just barely above a whisper through the crook of his hand.
he hears your voice come out gentle and shaky, slowing his thrusts momentarily to make sure you’re okay. “what is it baby?” he ducks his head forward and moves his hand slightly to hear you better. but all you can focus on is his thrusts slowing down.
“n-no, keep going, k-keep going please please.” you feel your eyes begin to water in desperation, and with jungkook in close proximity, he realizes immediately just what you need, picking up his pace again.
“you’re close, aren’t you sweetheart? are you gonna cream around my dick like a good little girl, huh?” he places his hands on your hips, guiding you down to fuck him harder, only pushing you closer and closer to the edge. you begin to moan loudly again, not caring if you’re disobeying him anymore. you were just so so close.
jungkook however, notices this along with your bad behavior, and stills his hips mid thrust, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to force you to look up at him in the reflection before you.
“what the fuck did i tell you?” his words sent a shiver down your spine and all the way to your core, tensing up around him, and this does not go unnoticed by jungkook.
“NO! n-no please please jungkook im sorry im sorry please don’t stop i promise i’ll listen!” and there it is, another tear sliding down your cheek gracefully before landing on the counter top below you.
jungkook’s heart flutters at the sight before him, your body so close to finishing, your hair a tangled mess, the tears running down your cheeks. he almost feels sympathetic.
he leans forward, tucking a hair behind your ear. “darling when i tell you to be quiet you need to be fucking quiet, understood?” his voice is gentle, almost mocking you, as he carefully pushes small pieces of hair out of your face. his other finger going down to your cheek to wipe the tears away carefully.
“you want to be good for me, right?” his voice is soft and devilish, making you clench around him once more, he bites his lip to keep a moan from escaping his mouth.
“yes, yes i do, i want to be good for you just please
 im so close.” you watch as he wipes another tear from your face, returning back to his original position to admire the state of your body once more.
he leans down, watching your pussy throb around him unknowingly, the slick that was once pooling by your folds now running down your thighs, both of your juices mixed together as one. he brings a hand up to your thigh, caressing it gently and watching it shake in response.
“you want to cum, hmm?” a touch that would typically be soothing is only creating more pain and anguish for you. you want nothing more than to shut your eyes and roll your head back, but you refrain, knowing that your obedience right now is crucial to ensuring you get what you want.
“yes i do, i really do. please. show me mercy, jungkook.” you words stir something inside of him, something that he’s been suppressing until now.
he removes his hand from your thigh and instead brings it around to the front of your throat, watching your face contort as he tightens his grip.
“be careful what you wish for.” are his final words before he’s fucking you inhumanely. he’s almost animalistic as he thrusts into you deeper than you even thought was possible. if it wasn’t for the hand around your neck you’d surely be doubled over on the sink’s counter by now, or screaming at the top of your lungs. but fortunately, his restriction on your throat is making that nearly impossible, only allowing hushed squeals to escape your mouth.
“this is what you fucking asked for baby. take it.” he growls, watching as you struggle for air.
“you’re awfully quiet now, love. can’t talk?” his teasing only brings you closer to the edge, the restriction around your throat burning in the most beautiful way as you feel your high approaching again, the knot in your stomach tightening faster than you had time to prepare for, and before you know it, you’re seeing stars.
jungkook watches as you come undone around his cock, your face perfectly contorting into a piece of art before him as you squirt and cream around his cock. the tightening of your walls almost pushing him out of you. he groans loudly at the sight before him watching as you come down from your high.
“god you’re a fucking slut. you just squirt on random dudes at the bar like a dumb whore?” his thrusts are starting to become messy as he feels his high approaching, but not fast enough to leave you an overstimulated mess.
you push his hand away from your throat, gasping for air and words as you begin to plead and beg for him to stop. “too much, t-too much.” is all you’re able to get out as he brings his hand between your thighs to rub on your clit harshly.
“can’t take it? i did warn you.” his thrusts speed up even more, watching as you squirm and writhe at the overstimulation.
“ahh, n-no, j-jungkook.” watching you cry out underneath him only pushes him over the edge too, burying deep into you as he fills you up completely, his hips stalling out when he feels the tension in his abdomen has finally released.
he removes his hand from your clit and brings it up to your mouth, ignoring your protests and forcing you to lick it clean.
“good girl. that’s a good girl.” he praises, his other hand going up to the side of your head to brush your hair down gently, trying to tame it as best as he can.
you’re completely warn out, oblivious to the mess you made of not only yourself, but of the bathroom. you forgot how often you come here, probably should’ve went outside at least.
jungkook pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your already dripping cunt. he leans down, admiring his masterpiece before retrieving some tissues and wiping you up as best as he can.
“are you okay? i apologize, i can get really into it sometimes.” his voice is gentler now, calm, almost like nothing ever happened. he barely looks affected by the encounter at all.
“im more than okay.” your voice sounds borderline distraught compared to him, wishing you could remove the embarrassment of knowing how much that interaction affected you. it’s unlike you to have hookups, especially with a man you’ve just met.
he chuckles at your response, finishing his tidying before bringing himself back up to look at you, taking your chin in his hand and carefully examining your neck to make sure there’s no bruising.
“im fine, trust me. im a big girl.” you blush under his intense gaze. you’ll definitely feel the aftermath of your interaction tomorrow, but that was for your future self to worry about.
he smiles down at you before pinching your cheek cutely. “you sure are.”
266 notes · View notes
aliteralsemicolon · 8 months ago
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I'll still be here
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To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. You and Spencer plan to honour your vows at any cost, no matter how insignificant or difficult the situation seems. 
Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but still intended for mature audiences. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Not proof read.
WARNING: Light descriptions of cuts and bruises, PMS/period talk. Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 2.2K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
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You never felt more at peace than when you were with your husband. He’s your solace, your other half, your soulmate. You also never felt more dread than when he was away. Since his return from prison, you’ve been increasingly anxious whenever he leaves, scared that he might not return for God knows how long again. You're always holding your breath, only releasing it when you see him walk back in through the front door and immediately into your arms.
The relief you feel is instantaneous. Until you pull back after a minute, just to be greeted by shades of green, yellow, purple and blue staining various parts of his visible skin. Your smile drops when you notice the condition he’s in. Messy hair, dirty clothes, two shallow cuts on his lip and temple
and the bruises. So, so many bruises. Most noticeably above his brow, on his cheek and a particularly large one from the side of his mouth to his jaw. 
The first time he came home like this was in the early stages of the relationship. He had offered you an out, stating that this was normal with his line of work and would most definitely happen again. You assured him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you’d be there every single time to nurse him back to health. True to your word, you were still here five years later.
You unintentionally sigh, slipping your fingers to intertwine with his and guiding him to the bedroom. You gently sit him on the edge of the bed and leave him there to retrieve the first aid kit. Spencer watches you disappear into the bathroom. You’d surprised him by choosing to stay, despite the many outs you were given. He’d come to expect being abandoned at one point or another, but you stuck by him through his worst times. Without fail or complaint, you were always there. 
Something’s different today. He can’t put his finger on it exactly, but he’s literally trained to pay attention to human behaviour, no matter how skilled you are at masking your emotions, he’s better. You emerge out, making your way over to him and climbing into his lap with your legs on either side of him. He leans back onto his hands, allowing more room for you to get comfortable. Using the base of your index finger, you turn his face to one side by his chin and begin wiping his cut with some disinfectant. 
He subtly winces at the initial sting, relaxing after the feeling passes. Not a single word’s been passed between you two since the initial greeting. He keeps his eyes on you waiting for you to meet them, but you don’t. You stay focused on tending to his injuries. You’d just finished with the butterfly bandages on his temple and had moved on to the cut on his lip. 
“What’s wrong?” He whispers.
“Aside from the obvious?” You joke, tilting his head to the other side to deal with the bruises. 
You begin rubbing some vitamin K cream, trying to be as careful as possible. His eyes are still locked in on yours. You nervously chew on your lip from the scrutiny. When you're done generously applying the cream you make quick work of stuffing it back in the first aid kit. You keep your gaze lowered and Spencer takes it upon himself to cup your face, tenderly demanding for you to meet his eyes. 
The ambient lighting brings out the golden that hides in the usual brown. It’s almost impossible to hold eye contact, especially when he’s got his compelling puppy look plastered on his face. You scatter your sights anywhere else, feeling flustered and push yourself off him.
“S–stand up. I need to check the other bruises.” You gesture for him to comply as you speak.
“There are no other bruises. The paramedics already did a full check up.” He stands regardless, towering over you.
You nod as you take a step back and rush towards the bathroom again. You feel Spencer snake his arms around your waist while you put away the first aid, your body automatically leaning into his touch. He’s patiently waiting for you to look at him through the mirror, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t know why today was different from any other time. He’s come home in worse conditions, this was actually one of his tamer returns. 
“Can you at least look at me?” He kisses your parietal, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs.
You forcefully take a peek at his face, throwing in a weak smile, but immediately retreat and try to walk away. He doesn’t let you this time, only giving you enough room to turn around before entrapping you between the counter and his body. He takes hold of your hands and you stare at them, letting your fingers caress his palms when he loosens his grip. Spencer observes you, desperately trying to figure out what’s causing your repulsion. 
Was it the bruises? That doesn’t make sense, you’ve seen worse. Did something happen when he was away? You didn’t sound any different over the phone. He couldn’t recall anything strange about your behaviour until he got home. Something had to have happened between the last time he called you and now. 
“Hon–”
“You need to shower. I’ll heat up dinner for you.” You’re broken out of your trance when he breaks the silence and successfully push past him this time.
You race to the kitchen, but your husband doesn’t relent, pacing after you. He calls your name a few times, but you don’t respond. His gaining presence makes the room feel like it’s shrinking. It’s when you feel him pull you by the shoulder that you finally snap. 
“Spencer, please just stop!” You spin around to face him. 
He comes to a halt, just inches away from you. The pained look on his face makes you want to beat the crap out of yourself. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap
I just– please, go shower. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You plead with shallow breaths. 
“Neither of us are going anywhere until we talk about this.” He pushes, knowing that if he doesn’t get you to talk now you’ll just close up. 
You were much like him in that regard, always disregarding your feelings until they exploded on a much larger scale than necessary. He wasn’t going to let you avoid this problem. Tears welled in your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek to try and evade them. You don’t expect the choked sob that spills from you. All the feelings you worked so hard to bottle, spill and sink you down to the floor.
“Hey, shh.” Spencer comforts as he puts his arms around your body, sinking down with you. “I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you.”
He strokes your hair, offering you a safe space against his chest to cry into. He doesn’t stop with comforting stimuli, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. The two of you stay there for sometime. 
“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt, but still audible.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassures, a hand still in your hair.
You pull out of his embrace, still sniffling and look up at him through clouded lashes. You feel slightly pathetic, but there’s no judgement on his face. Only empathy and adoration. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m probably just PMS-ing.” You mumble.
“Premenstrual syndrome is very common, in fact 3 out of 4 women have or will experience PMS in some form. The physical and emotional changes you experience with premenstrual syndrome may vary from just slightly noticeable all the way to intense– I’m rambling, sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” You sadly chuckle. “You know I like when you ramble. Plus it’s a welcome distraction.”
“I know that
my point is that even if that’s the case, I won’t let you use that as an excuse to invalidate your feelings. Please, talk to me. Say whatever’s on your mind.” He speaks so softly, it makes your heart ache. 
“It’s not a big deal
” You begin and Spencer gives you a look to shut down the negation. “I guess it– the bruises, Spence. I don’t know why, but seeing you like this
it’s difficult today.”
“It’s not just today.” He exhales, shaking his head. “This is something that’s been going on since
I got back. From prison. We haven’t talked about it yet, but maybe we should.”
He wasn’t talking about the whole prison situation in general, the two of you had discussed that not long after his return. Spencer’s well aware of how antsy you get since then, even though you try to hide it. It’s why he texts you every chance he gets and makes time to call you, even in the middle of an investigation. 
“There’s nothing to talk about. I knew what I was getting myself into long before all of that.” You shrug, not wanting to give him a reason to offer you a chance to leave.
“Yes
but, that doesn’t make it any easier.” He counters.
“Spencer, I swear to god if you try to give me another out–”
“No. No more outs. You’re stuck with me. I want us to find a way to make this easier for you.” He chuckles lightly, rubbing soothing patterns on your forearm. 
He was so gentle with you, always finding some way to remind you that he loves you. If not with his words than with small touches. Though you didn’t see it as a small gesture by any means, knowing how he usually recoils from physical touch with others. 
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it can get easier, you know? Seeing the person you love more than anything come home like this. Especially when you don’t see them for days to begin with. I mean imagine if it was the other way around.” You confide, biting your lip from the nerves. 
His tongue darts out of his lip, an indicator that the gears in his head were turning. 
“That’s fair.” He nods. “Then maybe
it would be easier if I came home everyday? And not like this?” 
You pause, trying to comprehend what he means. 
“Are you implying that you resign from the BAU?” 
“If that’s what it takes.” He confidently replies. 
“Spencer, you love this job. I can’t ask you to leave it for my sake. I mean this is your life’s work.” You remind him.
“True, there was a time when the job meant everything to me.” He smiles, briefly reminiscing. “But that changed the second you took me as your husband.” 
Your heart threatens to leap out of your chest. At the same time you wonder if this is a cry for help. You never thought you’d ever hear him say he’d leave the FBI. Your concern must be plastered all over you, because Spencer feels the need to reiterate. 
“I love this job, I love you infinitely more.” 
“I only want you to quit when you’re ready to quit. Not for my sake. All I meant was that I want you to be a little more careful out there. I can’t lose you.” You’re dumbfounded by his admission and resist out of guilt. 
You never wanted him to choose between you and his work. 
“You won’t lose me. I’ll be by your side for the rest of our lives, the same way you’ve been by mine since I met you.” He drags you into his lap, pulling you impossibly close.
“That’s not a choice you can guarantee.” You scoff playfully.
“No, but it’s a choice I make regardless. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.” 
He wasn’t going to budge. Spencer would do anything for you. He’d already given over a decade of his life to the bureau, the rest of it was yours. 
“I don’t want you to quit until it’s something you want for yourself. Just promise me that if things get too intense or dangerous, you’ll step back for a bit.” You throw out a compromise and drape your arms around his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around your waist. 
“I promise. As long as you promise me that if it becomes too much for you to handle, you’ll tell me.” He’s looking at you as if you’re the most rare jewel on the planet, which to him, you are. 
“I don’t want to make you leave.” You oppose, running a hand through the base of his locks. 
“You’re not making me do anything. I want to do this. I’ve let myself lose a lot to this job. Let me be very clear when I say that I won’t lose you to it. I will not let it push us apart. Promise me.” He implores.
It’s so hard to refuse anything this man says when he looks at you with stars in his eyes and speaks to you in such a sweet tone. He’s your whole world and you’d do anything for him. 
“I promise.” You roll your eyes and giggle, the sound making him beam. “And by the way, I wasn’t going to let your job come between us either. Is it a pain in my ass at times? Yes, but I’ll still be here when you come home.”
“I love you.” Spencer blurts out, leaning in for a kiss.
“I love you too. More, actually” You contest.
“Whatever you say, my sweet angel.”
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Spoilers: Established relationship, hurt + comfort, fluff.
AN - This is my most sleep deprived not-blurb, blurb ever. If this doesn’t make sense it’s because I wrote this without thinking about it or reading it over. There is no plot to this, it’s just a very self indulgent hurt/comfort fic that came to me in a dream (wish Spencer came to me (sorry)).  This is your reminder that I am not Spencer Reid and I do not have an IQ of 187. The facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of this story. 
Rumour has it that if you comment nothing significant happens but it makes my day because I enjoy reading what you have to say :0
Thank you for reading!
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aryadelvich · 17 days ago
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Summary : A date with Luigi Mangione.
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This is the part 2, here’s the part 1 and part 3
Request not related to this story (Luigi request)
~~ John Jay Dorm ~~
It’s almost 7 p.m. Luigi is slightly early, standing nervously in front of your dorm room with a small bouquet of tulips in his right hand and his left hand resting on his thigh, which he can’t stop bouncing. He’s debating whether he should wait for you here or downstairs in the lobby. He doesn’t want to seem intrusive. Just as he decides to head back down, the door to your room opens.
Luigi spins around, startled. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, he freezes, scanning your entire figure before locking his gaze back onto your eyes.
« You look
 stunning, » he says softly, admiration evident in his voice.
« Thanks. You’re looking good too » you reply with a playful smile.
The remark brings a slight flush to his cheeks as he awkwardly extends the bouquet toward you.
You blink in surprise. « These are my favourite flowers ! »
He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. « I overheard you telling your friend in class once. I, uh
 hope that doesn’t make me sound like a creep. »
You laugh, charmed by his candidness. It’s a side of him you rarely see. Normally, he’s Professor Mangione: confident, articulate, and composed.
« Guess we’ll find out later » you tease.
He steps closer, taking your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His gaze never leaves yours. There’s a strange mix of shyness and self-assurance about him tonight that keeps you intrigued.
« Shall we? » he asks.
« Let me just put these in my room, » you rush back inside, disappearing briefly to place the tulips on your desk before locking the door.
When you return, he offers his arm, and you instinctively take it. Your fingers brush against his bicep, and you can’t help but notice how solid it feels under your touch. He’s always dressed in long sleeves, and you never realized how athletic he actually is. He notices your subtle reaction and smirks faintly.
« Does it bother you to be seen with a student on campus? » you ask as you walk out of the building together, your arm still looped through his.
« Not at all, » he replies without hesitation, his tone reassuring. « We’re two adults the same age, getting to know each other. I have nothing to hide and no shame in being with you. »
His words make you smile, and as the two of you stroll through the streets of New York, bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun, your anticipation grows.
« I hope you’ll like what I’ve planned, » Luigi says, his face lighting up with excitement.
« I have a feeling I will, » you reply, eager to see what he has in store.
After a short walk, you arrive at a lively restaurant and karaoke bar. Music spills out onto the street as people laugh and sing inside. Luigi stops in front of the entrance, giving you an amused look.
« A karaoke bar? » you ask, surprised.
« Yep. I’ve never sung in front of an audience before, but I figured you’d be up for the challenge, » he says with a grin.
You laugh, realizing that while you do enjoy singing and dancing, what excites you most tonight is the chance to see this unexpected side of him.
« Tonight, it’s just you and me, on that stage, » he says playfully with a wink, holding the door open for you.
Inside, the atmosphere is vibrant. A pair of young men is butchering a pop song on stage, and the crowd cheers them on. A server greets you, handing you menus before leading you to a cozy table near the stage. Luigi pulls out your chair for you—a small gesture, but one that makes your heart flutter.
The two of you browse the menu in comfortable silence before placing your orders. Luigi opts for vegetarian pasta, while you choose a salmon pizza.
« Vegetarian ? » you ask, intrigued.
"Yeah," he replies. « But I make up for it with protein shakes. »
You smirk. « Is there anything you don’t excel at? » you tease.
He chuckles, his confidence peeking through again. “Well,” he starts, feigning seriousness, “singing in public is about to be added to that list.”
As you savor the rich flavors of your salmon pizza, you can’t help but comment, “This is amazing. I swear, Italian food is in a league of its own.”
Luigi smirks, resting his elbow on the table as he watches you. “Careful with statements like that. You might give me a big head.”
You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “As if you don’t already think you’re the epitome of Italian greatness.”
“Well,” he says, leaning slightly closer, his voice dipping with mock seriousness, “Well, food isn’t the only thing Italians are known for excelling at...”
Your eyes widen briefly before you laugh, shaking your head. “Oh my God, Luigi!”
He joins in your laughter, clearly pleased with his joke.
As the humor fades, he looks at you thoughtfully. “So, why law? What made you choose it?”
You take a moment before responding, your tone steady but tinged with a hint of frustration. “I couldn’t stand the idea of people being taken advantage of. Seeing injustice—it makes my blood boil. I wanted to be the person who could help those who couldn’t help themselves.”
He nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “That makes sense. But, if I may... how do you handle the other side of it? Knowing that you’ll also have to defend people who... well, might not deserve it?”
Your lips press together for a moment, and you exhale. “It’s the part of the job I hate the most,” you admit, meeting his gaze directly. “I think about it every single day. But I also know that the system is built on the principle of everyone deserving a fair defense. It’s not about me or what I think—it’s about the process. And I have to believe in that if I’m going to do this.”
Luigi leans back, impressed by your conviction. “That’s... a lot to carry. But it sounds like you’ve already thought this through.”
“I have,” you say firmly. “But what about you? Why computer engineering?”
A soft laugh escapes him as he runs a hand through his brown curly hair. “It wasn’t my first choice, actually. As a kid, I wanted to be a pilot. But I always loved solving problems. When I discovered computers, it felt like solving puzzles on a grand scale. It’s satisfying—like creating order out of chaos.”
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting such a poetic answer from a tech guy,” you tease, earning a grin from him.
“Hey,” he retorts, “we’re not just about ones and zeroes, you know. There’s an art to it. You’d be surprised.”
The easy flow of conversation between you feels natural, and as the plates are cleared, you can’t help but realize how much more there is to uncover about him. For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence. After finishing your meal, you both head over to the song catalog. Luigi flips through it with a mix of excitement and nerves, his arm brushing against yours.
« What should we sing? » he asks, his voice slightly unsure.
You glance at the page he’s on, leaning closer. « How about ‘Gotta go my own way’ from ‘High School Musical’ ? » he suggests, grinning.
You make a face. "That’s a breakup song. What about ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’?"
His smile widens. "A classic. Let’s do it."
Luigi grabs a microphone and hands the other to you. You notice his grip is a little tight, and his expression betrays a hint of nervousness.
"What was I thinking, dragging us here?" he mutters under his breath.
"Relax. It’s going to be fun," you say, giving him an encouraging smile.
The opening notes fill the room, and the crowd begins to cheer. Luigi stumbles a bit at first, but as soon as you grab his hand and start singing with enthusiasm, his nerves melt away. By the middle of the song, neither of you are looking at the screen anymore—you know the lyrics by heart.
The audience claps along, and by the time you both belt out the final note, the entire restaurant is cheering. Luigi turns to you, his face flushed but glowing with exhilaration.
« That
 wasn’t as terrifying as I thought, »he admits, grinning.
« See? You just needed a little push, » you tease.
Afterward, you sang ‘Breaking Free’, ‘Dancing Queen’, and ‘Unwritten’. The restaurant came alive, with people dancing and cheering along. The energy was infectious, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun. Luigi seemed to be enjoying himself just as much.
When the fatigue finally started to catch up with you, the two of you returned to your table and sat down.
“Shall we head back?” Luigi suggested, though there was a hint of hesitation in his voice.
You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in this lively restaurant all night. But Luigi, while reluctant to leave as well, secretly wanted to get you alone—somewhere quieter, where it was just the two of you.
Without a word, Luigi began stacking your plate on top of his, placing the cutlery neatly on top, and clearing the table of any trash before throwing it into the bin.
“I’ll take care of the check, and then we’ll head out,” he said, standing up and pulling his wallet from his pocket.
He wasn’t gone for long—three minutes at most—before he returned, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he approached. The touch sent a shiver through you. It was brief, but even such a small gesture left you craving more. You needed him—his warmth, his presence.
You stood up to follow him, and he opened the door for you. Stepping outside, the cool night air hit your face, bursting the bubble of intimacy you’d felt inside the restaurant.
“Want to take a walk for a bit?” you asked, not ready to let the night end.
He smiled, clearly pleased by your suggestion.
“Yes
 I’d like that,” he replied, offering you his arm once again.
This time, you held onto him more firmly, as if silently telling him not to leave. He felt the same pull toward you. He wanted to kiss you, to feel your skin against his, but he held back, worried it might be too soon for you.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for about twenty minutes, the night’s cool breeze brushing against you. The streets were quieter now, the city’s usual noise replaced by the occasional sound of distant traffic.
When you finally reached your dorm, you turned to face him, your voice soft but filled with hope.
“Do you want to come up with me?” you asked, your gaze locking with his.
Thank you for your likes and reactions, it truly warms my heart. You’re the best, girlss đŸ«¶
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azsazz · 8 months ago
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Pirouettes & Promises
Mafia!Azriel x Ballerina!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Can u do a Mafia az and ballerina reader?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1029
Notes: Not the best, but I tried.
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There’s nothing that Azriel likes about this.
Well, that’s a lie. He likes you, up on stage in your perfectly blush pink outfit. He likes the likes the way the lighting washes over you, how your eyes light up when you nail a move that you’ve been practicing both in the studio or in the middle of his living room. He had all the furniture moved for you specifically, even offered to build you your own studio somewhere within the high rise, because there is no one more important than you.
He's still a little irked that you shut that idea down, preferring to take the trek to the other side of town to practice in the dingy little studio that has zero security for you. He knows this, of course, because your shiny new vehicle is fitted with a tracker, and because of the very details reports from his security detail. He bets you don’t know about the robbery that happened at the bodega on the corner of the block. The kid was fifteen and only trying to steal a bag of chips, but Azriel doesn’t like when any crime is too close to you.
That’s about everything about this situation he does like.
From his vantage point in one of the expensive boxes that he had no trouble putting on his card, he can see the entire audience. The way that they sit, silent in their seats, because your dance has completely hypnotized everyone in the theater. Some are leaned forward in their seats as they watch, utterly enraptured by you.
Azriel doesn’t like the way that everyone’s eyes are on you, watching the ways that you move and bend. You’re always so graceful, even when he’s pinning you to the mattress and fucking you through your fourth orgasm with tears in your eyes and bruises on your neck.
He wants to send his men in and reign terror on the crowd.
They’re scattered all over the place like a bunch of ants. There’s at the very least one guard by each door. Two outside his own private box, and his most trusted security detail are with him, flanking him on either side, ready to throw themselves in front of him should they need.
You don’t know that there’s one waiting outside of your dressing room, making sure no one slips inside and tampers with anything in your room while you perform. You don’t know that there are men waiting on either side of the stage, or in the crowd. Azriel spared no one from his employment on tonight.
He almost invited Rhysand, one of his most trusted colleagues, but thought better of it. They’ve been companions since their college days, but it’s best for them not to be out in the open together. Rhysand tells him that he’s too paranoid, but Azriel doesn’t care, because you are the most important thing in the world to him, and he will do anything to keep you safe.
Your final move never fails to take his breath away. Azriel’s seen it before, many many times, but with the addition of your costume and makeup, the sultry music and the sensual lighting, you are a dream. He can’t take his eyes off you.
You fucking nailed it.
There’s a beat of silence while the crowd stare in awe, before the theater erupts in thunderous cheers. You hold the pose for a moment longer before relaxing out of it, a beaming smile on your face as the excitement washes over you. Your chest heaves with the effort and your eyes rove the audience, drawn immediately to Azriel, where he’s standing on his feet just like the rest of them, clapping for you. He might not be grinning down at you, but he may as well be with the upturned corner of his mouth, as much of a smile as he’s willing to show in any public situation.
You know that in the bedroom later, he will be all smiles and compliments. Your stomach flips in anticipation, and you refrain from blowing a kiss in his direction because it will no doubt draw eyes toward your lover.
His smile falls when people begin tossing things on stage. They’re flowers, roses in a bloodred color that look like spilled blood on the floor. Your smile falters when he’s ushered from his suite and force yourself to focus on the rest of the attendees, smiling in gratitude and taking a bow.
You snag a rose from the floor on your way off the stage. Your fellow dancers and coaches alike are ready with hugs and congratulations on your dance, and you take a few moments to revel in their kind words. Azriel having been ushered from the room is not uncommon, but you were hoping he would at least stay until you exited the stage.
You get it, you really do, that he’s an important man with many enemies, but there’s a sting in your chest that he left so quickly. You want to embrace him, fall into his warmth and revel in the feeling of your perfect performance. You want his hands around your waist, holding you as tightly as possible, whispering words into your ear that make your pussy clench.
With a sigh, you shove your way into your dressing room, only to squeak with surprise when you spot Azriel, sitting on the couch, waiting for you.
He looks like sin, arms splayed wide, resting across the back of the couch. He looks as handsome as ever with his finely black, pressed shirt unbuttoned and showing off the dark curls of tattoos that ink his skin. Your mouth runs dry, even more so when he smirks at you.
“You did wonderful, sweetheart.”
You fling yourself into his arms.
Azriel catches you, because he always will, and cradles you to his chest, peppering kisses to your cheeks with a whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” you murmur back, looking up at him like the lovesick girl you are. He’s looking down at you in much the same way, and your heart beats hard in your chest when Azriel dips his head to capture your lips in a sweet, sensual kiss.
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delulustateofmind · 1 month ago
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I love your yandere fics so much!! You write them so well like how imagined them to be! Can i request a yandere!gojo with celebrity reader. Gojo is a smitten fanboy (he finally found his match a beauty that can be on par or surpass his looks) who then kidnaps reader and with somno and mindblowing smut (he is intimate and makes love, very sensual — but sometimes can be cruel when reader is not cooperative), very obsessive and possesive behavior, where reader eventually falls into a stockholm syndrome when she realizes he is the only one who can lover her like that.
Ah, anon, fanboy gojo is a horrifying gojo. I couldn't fit the somno in there my bad but I did let em get frisky. Yan!Gojo x Idol! Reader TW: Yandere Behaviors (Heavy in obsession & manipulation, stalking, trapping), Non Curse AU, Noncon / Dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome, Unbalanced power dynamic, Lifesize Doll, Gojo is just a fucking creep in this one. Reader has bad ending and is going through it. MDNI A/n: There's something absolutely horrifying about just anyone with too much money. Also, this one gave me an icky feeling, like really icky to the point where I had to go play some wii sports for some serotonin . So just fair warning on that everyone.
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So this would definitely take place in a non-curse AU where the Gojo family reigns supreme over an empire of companies, including your idol agency. Satoru’s obsession with you began long before his parents handed him the keys to your career as a "gift" for his 21st birthday. By then, he already had an entire shrine dedicated to you—a collage of your debut album covers, grainy videos from your first audition, and meticulously preserved cut-outs of you in your signature frilly stage outfits.
He even went as far as purchasing your stockings and, disturbingly, a vial of your sweat from an online auction. Because when it came to you, no price was too steep, no boundary too sacred.
Satoru had been such a good boy, after all. He kept his record spotless, avoided any scandals, and played the part of the dutiful heir to perfection. So, for his birthday, the Gojo family rewarded him in the grandest way possible: a private concert (in their household theatre)  featuring none other than his favorite obsession.
Lucky you.
"Why do I always end up with the creeps?" you muttered under your breath backstage, steeling yourself for what was to come. You’d been expecting a small, exclusive audience—maybe a handful of elite guests alongside the infamous Gojo Satoru. Instead, the venue was eerily empty, save for one man sitting dead center in the front row.
Of course, it was him.
Satoru lounged in his seat, his long legs spread comfortably and his unrelenting gaze fixed on the stage. Those icy blue eyes shimmered with a kind of deranged excitement.
Still, you plastered on your most radiant smile, the same one that had been drilled into you since your debut, and stepped onto the stage. "Satoru-kun!" you called sweetly, your voice dripping with feigned delight.
That simple acknowledgment sent him into a visible frenzy. He straightened immediately, his grin stretching impossibly wide, the edges almost unhinged. His hands clutched the armrests of his chair as if holding himself back from leaping onto the stage.
"Satoru-kun," you repeated, your tone syrupy enough to mask the bitterness in your throat. The way his eyes sparkled, as though you’d just handed him the universe, made your skin crawl.
Why did he have to smile like that? Why did it feel like this wasn’t just a concert, but some kind of trap?
You swallowed hard and launched into your first song, your voice steady even as your heart raced. Through it all, his gaze never wavered, and you could swear that he wasn’t just listening—he was memorizing every note, every movement, every glance in his direction.
The worst part? You could feel that manic, suffocating grin even with your eyes closed.
The final note faded, and you lowered the mic with a practiced flourish, painting on a dazzling smile despite the tight knot in your stomach. Applause didn’t erupt—just a slow, deliberate clap from the lone figure seated in the otherwise empty venue. Each measured beat sent an icy shiver down your spine.
"Bravo! Amazing, as always," Satoru called, his voice laced with the kind of excitement that made your skin crawl. His bright grin stretched wider, his icy blue eyes fixed on you like a predator watching its prize.
Suppressing the urge to grimace, you clasped your hands in front of you and tilted your head, letting out a bubbly laugh. “Aww, Satoru-kun, you’re too sweet! You always know how to make a girl feel special!” Your voice was light, airy, laced with the charm your agency had drilled into you since day one.
His grin widened, if that was even possible, and he leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin in his palm. “Only because you are special, [Y/N]-chan.”
You swallowed back the bile creeping up your throat and gave a coy wave, bowing deeply. “Thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoyed the show!”
The second you turned and stepped offstage, the smile dropped from your face like a mask sliding off. Your jaw clenched as you made your way backstage, your mind racing. What is wrong with this guy?
Inside the dressing room, you immediately set to work peeling off your stage outfit and shoving your things into your bag. The faint hum of the mirror bulbs was the only sound as you yanked off your heels, wincing at the ache in your feet. “Just a few more minutes,” you muttered to yourself, your tone dark and venomous, “and I’m out of here.”
A sharp knock at the door shattered the momentary quiet. Your heart sank. “Just a minute!” you chirped, forcing the syrupy sweetness back into your voice. But your hands trembled as you zipped up your bag. He wouldn’t come backstage, would he?
The door creaked open without waiting for a response, and your worst fears were realized.
Satoru stepped in as though he owned the place—which, you supposed, he technically did—and shut the door behind him with a soft click. The sound of the lock sliding into place sent a chill racing down your spine.
You plastered on another sunny smile, turning to face him. “Satoru-kun! What a surprise! Did you come to say goodbye?” Your voice was an octave higher than usual, chipper and fake as it could get, but he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, it only made his smile softer, more adoring.
“Goodbye?” he repeated, tilting his head as if the very idea was foreign to him. “Oh, no, [Y/N]-chan. The night’s just getting started. I thought we could spend some time together. Just the two of us.”
You laughed, the sound forced and overly bright. “Oh, Satoru-kun, you’re so funny! I’m sure you’re busy, though, and I wouldn’t want to keep you—”
He interrupted by stepping closer, and you instinctively took a step back, your spine hitting the edge of the dressing table. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous now, something far too intense.
“I made sure I wouldn’t be busy,” he said softly, his voice unnervingly calm. “This is a special night, after all.”
Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag, but your bubbly mask stayed firmly in place. “You’re so thoughtful, Satoru-kun! But really, I’m just so exhausted from performing—I don’t want to ruin your night by being a boring old workaholic!”
His smile faltered, just for a second. The glint in his eyes shifted to something colder.
“Ruining my night?” he echoed, his voice dropping a pitch. He stepped even closer, his long fingers brushing against the edge of your bag. “Oh, [Y/N]-chan, you could never ruin anything for me. You’re perfect. That’s why I waited so long for this.”
The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. Still, you kept the mask on, even as your pulse thundered in your ears. “Satoru-kun, you’re such a charmer!” you said with a giggle, though the sound nearly cracked under the weight of your fear. “But really, I—”
“Enough.” His voice was soft but firm, and it froze you in place. The playful tone was gone, replaced by something sharper. His hands found your hips, firm but not painful—yet. “You don’t have to pretend with me, [Y/N]-chan. I know what you really need. What you deserve.”
For a split second, the mask cracked. Your smile faltered, your eyes betraying the panic clawing at your chest. But you quickly forced it back into place, stretching your lips into something resembling a cheerful grin. This wasn’t just any creep—this was the owner of your agency. The man who could ruin your career with a single word. Rejecting him wasn’t an option.
“Oh, Satoru-kun!” you said with a bright laugh that sounded hollow even to your own ears. “You’re too kind, really!”
His expression softened at your attempt, though the unsettling hunger in his eyes never wavered. “I want to show you something,” he murmured, his voice low and syrupy as he stepped closer.
Before you could react, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The sharp scent of his cologne—overly expensive and cloyingly strong—invaded your senses, making your head spin. You froze as you heard him inhale deeply, the sound sending an involuntary shudder down your spine.
“That’s it,” he sighed, as if your discomfort was the most intoxicating thing in the world.
You swallowed hard, suppressing the wave of revulsion rising in your chest. “Y-Yeah, sure. Anything you want,” you said, forcing another fake giggle. The bile was starting to creep up your throat, but you choked it back.
Satoru straightened, beaming like you’d just granted him his deepest wish. Without another word, he grabbed your hand and tugged you along, his grip firm but not painful. His long strides made it hard to keep up, and you stumbled slightly as he led you down a long, opulent hallway.
“This way,” he said brightly, his excitement bubbling over as he opened a door at the end of the hall. “I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to show you this.”
The room you stepped into wasn’t just a bedroom—it was a shrine.
Your face froze in a practiced smile, but your stomach churned violently. Every inch of the walls was covered with photos of you, from professional headshots to candid moments you didn’t even know had been captured. A glass case in the corner held memorabilia from your career: props from music videos, outfits you’d worn onstage, and even a pair of shoes you’d discarded years ago. The bed, an enormous thing with crisp white sheets, was adorned with pillows printed with your image.
And in the center of it all, on a pedestal near the window, was a life-sized figure. You.
Your knees nearly buckled at the sight. It was a doll replica, eerily accurate down to the smallest details. The same smile you forced onstage, the same sparkle in your eyes. But the longer you stared, the more disturbing it became.
“Oh, this isn’t even the best part!” Satoru chirped, oblivious—or perhaps delighting in—your horror. He dropped your hand and strode over to the pedestal, gesturing at the figure like a proud artist showing off their masterpiece. “It’s perfect, don’t you think? Just like the real thing.”
You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you clutched your bag to your chest. “I-I don’t even know what to say, Satoru-kun,” you managed, your voice strained despite your best efforts to sound enthusiastic.
His gaze snapped to you, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. “Say you love it,” he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air.
“I love it,” you echoed immediately, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you might vomit right there on the pristine floor.
Satoru’s grin returned, softening into something almost tender. “I knew you would,” he said, stepping closer until he was mere inches away. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a touch that made your skin crawl. “It’s because it’s all for you, [Y/N]-chan. All of it. Everything I do is for you.”
Your smile wavered as you nodded, the muscles in your face aching from the effort to keep it in place. Inside, you screamed.
He began to ramble, his voice drifting into an almost giddy monologue as he circled the room. “The doll is great, don’t get me wrong,” he said, gesturing at the figure with a flourish. “But it’s not you. It doesn’t feel like you.” His words trailed off into something quieter, almost wistful. “At least
 not yet.”
You didn’t want to know what he meant by that, and you weren’t about to ask. Instead, you kept your fake smile plastered on and nodded along, praying he’d lose interest and let you leave.
“But
” He stopped mid-sentence, turning to face you with that same soft, disarming smile that would’ve melted hearts if it weren’t attached to someone so terrifying. He stepped closer, and you instinctively backed up, only to find the edge of the bed pressing into the backs of your knees.
“You can be the real thing for me, right?” he asked, his tone almost teasing, as if this were some innocent joke between friends. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, deceptively gentle as he guided you to sit down.
“Satoru-kun
” you began, your voice high and airy with forced politeness. “I-I’m not sure what you mean—”
“Oh, come on.” He crouched down to your level, his face just inches from yours now. The smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, [Y/N]-chan. I mean
 heh
” His laugh was soft, almost self-deprecating, but the threat behind it was crystal clear. “Imagine if the media found out we did something together? Your career would be over, wouldn’t it?”
Your blood ran cold. The bile that had been simmering in your throat threatened to rise, but you swallowed it down, forcing another laugh. “Satoru-kun, you’re so funny! You know I’d never want to disappoint you, but—”
“You wouldn’t disappoint me.” His interruption was immediate, his voice firm but still unnervingly calm. He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle he was eager to solve. “You’d make me the happiest man in the world, [Y/N]-chan. That’s all I want.”
The weight of his hands on your shoulders grew heavier, and for the first time, the mask you wore faltered completely. You could feel the edges of your resolve cracking as panic clawed at your chest.
“I—I think I should go,” you stammered, your voice trembling now. “It’s been such a long night, and I’m so tired—”
“Shhh.” His finger pressed lightly against your lips, silencing you. “No need to rush. You’re home now. With me.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating, as he gently pushed you back onto the bed.
You felt caged, trapped beneath him as he leaned down and kissed you with a fervent passion that left no room for doubt. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that sent heat spiraling through your body, surprising you with how skilled he was. How is he this good? you wondered, a flicker of reluctant curiosity slipping into your thoughts. For someone with a room like this, you didn’t expect him to know his way around intimacy so well.
When his kisses trailed down your neck, you couldn’t suppress the small sounds that escaped your lips—tiny, breathy moans that only encouraged him. You hated how natural it felt, how easy it was to let yourself melt just a little under his touch.
His hands moved with practiced ease, unbuttoning your soft frilly blouse and sliding it down your arms. The fabric fell away without ceremony, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air. He unhooked your bra without even looking, his attention fixed on you as if you were the only thing in the universe.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “So beautiful. I can’t believe you’re real.” His voice was thick with awe, the kind of adoration that would have been flattering in another context. Here, it only added to the strange, heady mix of fear and something else stirring in your chest.
You didn’t stop him.
Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your mind a blur of conflicting emotions. Part of you screamed to push him away, to escape this madness before it consumed you. But another part—a quieter, insidious part—was starting to crave the way he made you feel. The way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
When he pulled out a condom, your breath hitched. He held it up with a playful smirk, his icy blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Can’t have my favorite girl off the stage because of a baby,” he teased, the words delivered so casually it made your head spin.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, your body caught between tension and reluctant desire. “S-Satoru-kun
” you murmured, your voice softer now, less forced. You weren’t sure what you were trying to say—if you were trying to stop him or if you were giving in.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry, [Y/N]-chan. I’ll take care of everything. Just trust me.”
And for some reason, at that moment, you did.
His actions surprised you. For all the unsettling obsession and the manic energy that seemed to define him, he was unexpectedly gentle. Every hitch of your breath, every flinch, had him pausing immediately, his hands soothing against your skin. He pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, your lips, your jawline, as if trying to reassure you, as if trying to prove that this was about more than just possession.
Each movement was careful, each thrust deliberate, his pace slow and measured, as though he was determined not to hurt you. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but notice how his body seemed to move in perfect rhythm with yours, how his touch sent shivers coursing down your spine—not from fear, but from how good it felt. It felt almost too wrong for it to feel this good. 
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. “So much better than I ever imagined. So much better than
 than her.”
You knew exactly what he meant by her—that unsettling doll that resembled you sitting in the room. But there was no malice in his tone, no frustration, only unbridled awe. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he continued, his words tumbling out in a breathless babble. “So warm, so soft
 so real.”
His hands caressed your sides, trailing down to grip your hips with a reverence that made your chest tighten. “You don’t understand, [Y/N]-chan. I’ve waited for this. For you. I’ve dreamed of having you here, like this, for so long.” His lips found yours again, and this time, you kissed him back. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of obligation—or perhaps something else entirely, something you weren’t ready to confront.
“I’m so happy,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His hips ground against yours with a practiced ease that sent shivers through your body, small, involuntary moans slipping from your lips. You weren’t even sure anymore if they were fake.
His icy blue eyes softened, a vulnerability shining through that you hadn’t expected, a strange mix of desperation and adoration. “So happy you’re finally here with me. You belong here. With me.”
The words sent a wave of unease crashing over you, yet his touch—so deliberate, so intimate—made it harder to hold on to that feeling. His pace quickened, his rhythm building into something that pulled soft cries from your throat, cries you weren’t sure belonged to the person you thought you were.
And then it was over, leaving you breathless, your heart pounding in your ears. You stared blankly at the ceiling, the tension in your body refusing to dissipate even as the room fell silent.
Silently thankful for that condom.
Satoru, however, seemed perfectly at ease. He snuggled into you with a satisfied sigh, his face pressed against your chest, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid you’d disappear. 
His white hair tickled your skin, and without thinking, your fingers found their way into it, absently threading through the soft strands. The motion felt automatic, like muscle memory from a life you weren’t supposed to be living. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, questions you didn’t have answers to. Yet, as he murmured something incoherent against your skin, his voice content and heavy with sleep, you found yourself continuing the motion, stroking his hair in a way that felt far too natural.
Because even if it’s love from some creep, maybe that’s the kind of love you crave.
The thought sat heavy in your chest, an unwelcome truth that made your stomach twist. You’d never had someone hold you like this, never had someone look at you the way he did—as if you were the entire world, as if you were the answer to every question he’d ever asked. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and yet

It was something.
Your fingers paused in his hair for a moment, hovering as if they’d been burned by the thought. But then his arms tightened around you, his face nuzzling deeper into your chest, and a soft, contented sigh escaped his lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.
Maybe you didn’t deserve something better. Maybe this was all there was.
So, you let him hold you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair again, let yourself relax just enough to make it through the moment. Because even if it was wrong, even if it wasn’t the love you’d dreamed of, at least it was real. At least it was something.
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yinyunnsworld · 23 days ago
Text
High school Au
I never knew I’d come to like high school romances and the fact it’s the most cliche one: popular boy x quiet girl? Bro i was playing this one cai bot (cause i’m delusional) and there was this popular boy bot. I was like??? Ajdbxjehnen. You know, I’m almost graduating already and in the animes, they’re just starting their first year of high school meanwhile I’m already there at the end of everything. So here, I’m gonna share a prompt with you guys and uh this is mostly what i do at highschool back then:
Characters: various x readers.
Word: 1.1k
Warning: can be ooc. A train of thoughts so it’s messy. Typos are to beware of. Broken grammar. Unedited. First draft.
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Imagine you’re an average student. Sure, you did have friends, you did your work splendidly, and although you’re not an academically smart or active student, the teachers still remembered you pretty much. You never played in the popular kids’ circles since most of the time, those students would outcast others who tried to be part of the circle when they had nothing to offer. It’s like a sore thumb sticking out and you’re just there, supposedly ruining their aesthetics with your ‘weird’ and ‘boring’ personality.
But you’re not bullied as well! You’re just very much a wallflower that if you were to blend in with the geek kids, you’ll stand out too much. Yet if you blend with the cool kids, you’re too bland.
That was until he came.
At first, he found you to be a rather boring person since you didn’t talk much yet when you did, you had the whole audience staring at you. By that I mean, when you came forth to perform a speech or any speaking assignment in front of the class, you knew what to do to make attention land on you. Even when you stepped down from the stage, that charm immediately vanished and you returned to nobody.
You would still be able to make lots of acquaintances with lots of people although they’re necessarily not your friends. When he asked others if they knew you by one coincidental day in which he didn’t even realize your image was playing in his head, and he’d unconsciously asked about you, others would tell him, ‘Yeah, I know her.’
And despite always downplaying things, he would sometimes scroll through your social media account by accident. He claimed that he did it because your recent post of you hanging out at your friend’s birthday party showed up on his feed (none of you followed each other since he was too conscious to even follow you), he saw that you posted mostly of yourself and of your friends. Well, perhaps there weren’t that many posts on your account since you didn’t exactly use it that much, but when you did post something, he would check on your profile to see if he missed out on your other previous posts. Sometimes, he would accidentally even click on your story, leaving a trail of his user visible on your history. Before he knew it, he already cursed himself for accidentally clicking on your story, but damn did the view you posted on the story seemed awesome.
Eventually, as time passed by, he grew to be more and more curious of you. There were instances where he would offer to be the leader of an assignment group just to take you as his member (he promised it was because he wanted your usefulness and all the skills you could offer that could help boost this assignment’s grade, even if his other friends disagreed).
And during sport’s day, where everyone was basically bathed in their murky and awful sweats, he would find you around the canteen area, attempting to buy drinks without getting busted by the teachers since it wasn’t recess yet. He would use this as a chance and made his way around to the canteen, showing up beside you and bought two drinks. One for him and one for you. He left the drink on the counter, in which you grabbed it and called out to him, and he turned around and spoke, “Oh, that’s for you.” With that, he ran away (thinking he was so smooth, huh?)
Sometimes, he would find you standing in the hallway after school, staring down at the courtyard on your way home. You would often take another route and it would change most of the times just to stall your time, not to go home too soon and enjoy the quietness of the school’s ground when there’s no disturbances. He got intrigued as he noticed your constantly changing route and would follow you from behind, a few feet away of course and acted like he was going home through that route too. Although, in fact he was just curious and wanted to know what you’d be doing after school if you’re not active or part of any activity group.
He would snicker when he watched you wait for someone to come and pick you up from school and you were sitting down on the floor. There was a huge black fat cat that came crawling towards you and sat on your thighs without your prior notice, making a claim on your lap as though it’s the cat’s decision whether or not it could sleep there. You’d panic yet you couldn’t push him off and looked around for help since your pick up had already arrived and you needed to get home soon. He showed up from the corner and helped you take the cat away from your lap. You’d thank him and left already, hurrying to your pick-up driver. He smiled friendly, although the cat glared at him.
And finally, he began to talk to you. Little by little, one by one, conversations between you two were exchanged. He didn’t think you’d actually have some complexity in your character despite always displaying yourself to be a quiet and boring person. You can be loud at times, weird, witty, and sometimes awkward and just embarrassing.
Slowly, the two of you became friends. And he didn’t acknowledge the fact that his heart was already advancing beyond the word ‘friendship’, it’d grown far too unsalvageable. But whenever he saw your oblivious smile to his feelings, he wanted to squish your cheek and pull you to a kiss to actually get the fact drilled in your head that he liked you a lot. But he didn’t and simply laughed at you whenever you’re oblivious to his advances, ruffling your hair to a mess. He would do anything to tease you and annoy you but never to actually lay a hand on you and hurt you like that.
He would just have to wait for the right time to say that he liked you.
Thus, he waited, and waited, and waited

And now you’re here, celebrating that you’re finally graduating. And he would finally come to you, yet immediately turned cowardly to actually say something to you since you were smiling that day, taking pictures with almost everyone—even the ones you didn’t like because you didn’t want to leave regrets behind. He didn’t want to ruin anything for you, thus he simply remained silent and threw a fist of flour and poured it over to you out of playfulness in which he’d kept that grip of flour behind his back already this whole time.
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ketaundkrawall · 8 months ago
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hi girlie! idk if yr taking requests so feel free to discard it but i was listening to agora hills by doja cat and the idea of reader being famous artist and joost being the fan just didn’t leave me aloneđŸ˜­đŸŒ€đŸ©”
thank you for the request đŸ«¶đŸ» i hope you guys enjoy it <3
Stargirl Interlude â˜œïœĄâ‹† Joost Klein
Summary: you’re a famous singer meeting one of your fans
Warnings: none, just fluff and two fangirls meeting each other (maybe smut in pt. 2 bc this ends in a cliffhanger kinda), not proofread, afab!reader, no use of Y/N
WC: 1.1k
A/N: guys pls lmk if i should do a part two (i will) đŸ’«
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What you loved most about your job was seeing the happy faces of your fans whenever you came on stage. Well, it wasn’t really a job to you, it was your destiny to stand on stage and make people happy.
You loved when the crowd chanted your name, absolutely making every stage performance of yours better when they sang the lyrics. It made you proud. And it was everything you dreamed of when you were a child. Seeing people happy and being able to help them with your music somehow.
Nonetheless, every time you went on stage you were nervous. It was a feeling that accompanied you ever since you started your career.
Today you performed in a club in Amsterdam. You’ve never actually travelled to the Netherlands before so you were really excited. Not only to perform but also to explore the city, since it was your last tour stop you were doing at the moment.
Right now you were getting all set up to go on stage. You could already hear the people outside waiting for you to come out and start the show. “You’re going to kill it babes.” Your best friend, Tommy, said as he came to a stand beside you with a drink for you which you accepted with a thanks and sipped on it. “I really hope so.” Smiling you gave him the empty cup.
Tommy always travelled with you. He has been there for you since the very beginning of your career and never left your side, always calming your nerves before the shows started and you were so fucking thankful for him. “Jeez stop being so nervous! You’re a bomb you know that and now go out there and fucking show them what you got!” He cheered you on and you laughed. Giving him one last hug and taking a deep breath you ran out
“AMSTERDAM ARE YOU READY?! LETS GET THIS PARTY GOING!” You yelled and instantly felt happiness and relief flowed your body as the crowd screamed and just went completely crazy.
And so you started your show, loving the way all the people singing with you. It really filled your heart with joy. After an hour or so you were out of breath and just needed some water. Your hair was sticking to your sweaty forehead but honestly? You couldn’t be happier. Looking throughout the crowd you smiled. “Gosh we’re having some really good looking guys here tonight done we?” You grinned and the crowd screamed.
And with ‘good looking guys’ you meant one particular one that caught your eye since the beginning of the show. Of course you knew who he was. You saw him on your TikTok the whole time, liking way too many edits that popped up on your For-You-Page.
Eyes roaming the crowd again they stopped at him for a short moment but you were sure he noticed. “Never thought an Eurovision candidate would be a fan of mine.” You now grinned at the blonde, walking towards the front of the stage and kneeling down. “Joost mother fucking Klein is listening to my music guys!” You screamed and the crowd cheered again. Eyes darting to him, you saw him laugh. It would be a lie to say you didn’t listen to his music, even though you didn’t understand a word.
Walking to the back of the stage to your DJ you said something to him and soon the melody of Europapa was blasting through the speakers and you and almost the whole audience did that silly little dance and you saw Joost laughing and cheering, definitely liking it.
After the song finished you kept on going with your show, watching Joost sing along to all of your songs. Something you never thought would happen. You played your last few songs, totally forgetting the time and soon everything was over. “THANK YOU AMSTERDAM!! I LOVE YOU!” You screamed into the mic, your eyes finding the blondes again, before walking off stage.
“Jesus babes that was amazing!” Tommy practically yelled and hugged you, making you giggle. “Thanks Tommy, hey, could you get Joost backstage?” You asked in your sweetest voice possible, bashing your lashes at him and he grinned. “Uhhh.” Scoffing you hit his arm earning a huff from him. “I see what I can do.” And with that he was off.
Walking back to your dressing room you flipped down on the couch, taking a cup with whatever liquor was inside, and opened your instagram. Your DM’s and notifications were flooded with messages, pictures and videos of what just happened. People already shipped you and even had a name for the both of you. You giggled and went on TikTok, notifications blowing up on there as well. Being so concentrated on your phone you didn’t hear the knock that was coming from the door.
As you finally did notice tho you quickly yelled a “yeah?” and the door opened. Joost standing in the doorway.
Sitting up straight now you smiled widely. “Hey.” He breathed out like he couldn’t believe he’s finally meeting you. “Hi.” You smiled back and got up to hug him. “Can’t believe I’m finally meeting you.” Joost chuckled and you smiled, pulling away. “Really?” He nodded. “Been listening to your music for a while now actually.” He confessed and it made you really proud somehow. “Well thank you.” You giggled.
Both of you sat down and started to chatter away and you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing how he was smiling the whole time as he was excitedly talking to you about everything. And you got along so well. The time flew by so fast and soon it was 4 in the morning.
“I should get going.” Joost said as he looked at his phone. You just nodded. “Yeah I’m so done. Need a lot of sleep now. Long day tomorrow. I want to do some sightseeing.” You smiled, pulling your knees to your chest. “Hey uh.” Joost started and scratched the back of his head nervously. “How about I give you my number and you hit me up? I can show you around if you want.”
Your eyes lit up as you nodded. “I’d really like that you smiled as he dropped his shoulder. You didn’t even noticed how nervous he actually was to ask you that question. Handing over his phone you quickly typed your number down along with his name. He smiled as you gave it back to him. “Then good night I guess. I see you around then.”
And with that he walked out of the club, not being able to stop the smile that was forming on his face. Taking his phone out he looked at your contact and chuckled.
You saved yourself on his phone as ‘Stargirl Interlude đŸ’«â€™, your stage name.
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katyawooga · 1 month ago
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pLEASE sevika x idol/singer reader? :( I WANNWA DO THOSE CUTE DANCES INFORNT OF SEVIKA TO GET HER REACITON AEAEHAHAUAUUUAUAUAUAUAU
oh my gosh anon this is so cute!!! :3
men and minors DNI pretty pleaseee
also let's pretend the meeting at the vander statue didn't end in attacks from noxus for the purpose of this ask 😊 i started writing this when act 2 came out so imagine this is in between act 2 and 3
to absolutely no one's knowledge, sevika was a superfan of yours. zaun had very few 'celebrities' of sorts, but you, a breakout singer that used to be a girl-for-hire at margot's, had made a name for yourself.
you regularly held gigs around the undercity, most frequently on the roof of the chembarons' little lair at the very peaks of the underground. ever since silco shoved off, you've been able to spot his number two in the front row at nearly all of your shows.
the riots going on recently because of the colourful spectacle topside had temporarily paused your gigs, but that didn't stop you from supporting zaun and doing pop-ups to raise morale. sevika herself somehow got your contact and convinced you to come to a rally near the vander statue. you were excited to be apart of something so directly involved with jinx and protesting. you wore jinx-er attire and even brought flares for the audience.
"come onnn, shoot faster!"
you had also gotten jinx herself on stage with you. she happened to be a big fan of yours and one of the reasons sevika reached out for this gig. you sang jinx's favourite song together with the crowd bumping. her presence made the attendance a lot bigger and the atmosphere a whole lot more exciting.
"just a little bit of energy, yeah!"
you spotted sevika in her usual front row spot, admiring your act and jinx for finally getting out of her lair. sevika was holding the hand of a small blue-haired girl jumping around like a maniac watching jinx. it was a sweet sight, especially since they were both mouthing along the words of the song and sevika dancing a little with the girl hanging off her mechanical arm.
"i wanna try somethin' fun right now!"
the crowd set off their flares of blue and the scene was clouded with aqua while you and jinx continued to sing and entertain.
"i guess some people call it anarchy!"
—
after your numbers were over, you thanked the crowd, thanked jinx, and thanked sevika for planning it all and giving her credit where it was due. she was a little bashful but it made her all the more authentic to you.
"this was really fun!" you approached sevika once she had pawned off the small girl to jinx, the two of them giggling together. "i'd love to show more spots like this. i've never seen zaun so pumped up."
"you were great. you and jinx really hit it off on stage, the people loved you two."
it was your first real conversation with the left hand of zaun and it was a little silly how starstruck you were. she was a bigger fan of yours and you were the actual pop star here.
"i saw that you loved us too," you poked a little fun with her. "knowing all the lyrics, dancing along..."
she, of all people, got flustered and scoffed, waving off your words. she had a good time watching your act, just like she always did, but someone actually noticing it for once kind of embarrassed her.
"well, if ever you wanna see a little shimmy from me again, don't hesitate to reach out for a gig. with how much jinx, the kid, and i love your act, zaun'll be in the clouds with how high you've lifted our spirits."
parting ways with sevika and waving goodbye to jinx and (seemingly) her younger sister, you couldn't help but feel giddy. the most revered and loyal person in zaun was a fan of yours, she wanted to keep spotting your act, and now you had jinx as a wingwoman on stage. you never thought life could get any better as a little singer from the underground.
i'm sooooo sorry this took me so long But i am back to getting requests and asks written since i'm on break now :) feel free to send some!
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moonstruckme · 11 months ago
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hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm
That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3
cw: bar
rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 
These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 
Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 
You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 
A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 
During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 
Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 
“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 
Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 
The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 
“You’re not bad at that.” 
You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 
“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 
“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 
You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 
“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 
You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 
“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 
Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 
His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 
Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 
He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 
You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 
“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 
“I
” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”
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chosocutegf · 11 months ago
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band au!Choso x fem!reader
cw: smut towards the end
(my other fic about band au!Choso)
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bassist!Choso who has tattoos, piercings, smokes and wears all black so anyone who sees him for the first time is immediately scared of him. He goes around not giving a fuck about anyone, and doesn’t look at anyone in the eyes, even if they are trying to have a conversation with him.
bassist!Choso who only cares about his music and his band. Anyone who sees him on the stage can say that he is really in love with what he is doing and his instrument, it’s like he gets sucked in from it anytime he takes it in his hands. He has a lot of fans who always try to get his attention, but he dismisses them the moment they approach him.
bassist!Choso that when he plays, his gaze is mostly on his bass and his head nods in time with the notes he is playing. Even when he has to sing the chorus, his gaze is distant or his eyes are closed. No one will catch him smiling at anyone, but rest assured, that whenever he is playing, a little smirk is on his face.
bassist!Choso who never looks up from his instrument and never looks at the audience, you start to assume that he is there just from the music and doesn’t really care about who is in front of him. You are mesmerised from the way his slender fingers move over the four strings, fast as lightning. So when you’re entranced watching him, he finally looks up and it feels like the world just turned upside down.
bassist!Choso who actually misses a note when he sees you for the first time in the front row; no one noticed but he did, and he can’t help but furrow his brows and immediately look away. He is angry at himself for making a mistake in that very moment, while the most beautiful girl is looking at him. On the other side, you think he was disgusted by you from his reaction, so you’re quick to look away, your smile fading.
bassist!Choso who can’t seem to forget you and is confused because now a part of his brain isn’t occupied anymore by his music and his bass, but you. He tries to ignore whatever is that he is feeling, but his eyes widen when he sees you at a local pub another day, exactly the same day he is playing with his band. He wonders if you are there to see one of his band mates.
bassist!Choso who is teased from his band members because he looks distracted and he has never been that way. He is always in his own world, listening to music or playing his bass, even in his breaks between concerts. So when they see a hint of interest on his face that isn’t for music, they understand that something happened.
bassist!Choso who notices you again in the first row for the third time and when he sees you observing his fingers instead of the main singer, he thinks you are checking the way he plays because you remember the mistake he did the first time. He is naive, and doesn’t think that you are looking at him because you’re attracted to him.
bassist!Choso who thinks about you the moment he gets off stage, wondering how can a girl be so beautiful. He freezes on his spot the moment he sees you backstage, laughing softly at what one of his bandmates said. He is even more shocked to discover that you’re a friend of them, and that’s why you are usually at the concerts. He finds out that you've been going to see them play for some time already, and he is stunned when he realizes that you have seen him play more times than he thought.
bassist!Choso who is now looking forward to the next concert because he knows you’ll be there. Everyone is shocked when they see him waving at you, and actually giving attention to someone outside his instrument.
bassist!Choso who tries to ignore his band mates teasing him about you, because they understood that something is different when it comes to you. Choso denies everything, and walks away from them just in time to hide his ears getting red.
bassist!Choso who doesn’t understand what he is feeling when he gets down the stage and sees you talking and laughing again with his band mate aka your friend. His stomach tightens while he suddenly feels insecure about himself. He stares at the two of you until you turn to him, feeling his gaze on you. He walks away before you can get to him, suddenly angry at himself for thinking that he could ever be with a girl like you. On the outside, it seems like he is trying to avoid you, his usually aloof expression changed into something like disgust.
bassist!Choso who gets home and doesn’t understand why his cock is hard. He was still angry at himself, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wishing that he was the one you were smiling at like that. He touches himself while thinking about you, your smile, your laugh and the way you looked in that little dress.
bassist!Choso who is stunned the next time you go to one of his band’s concert and sees you walking towards him shyly while smiling. He is quiet as he observes you, feeling his mind short-circuit when you look up at him with your soft eyes and realises that’s the first time you two are alone together. You notice his cheeks having a pinkish shade, not knowing that it’s because he can’t stop imagining having you under him, in less formal circumstances.
“Hi,” you say with your soft voice, smiling widely at Choso. His eyes widen and he doesn’t know how to answer you. He is lost thinking that your voice is the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. “Hey,” he mutters, blinking; his voice is low and husky, and you can’t help but recognise that there is a hint of softness in it. “So
 uhm, I was wondering if one of these days
 maybe, and only if you can of course, you wanted to go have a coffee
 with me,” you mumble, your eyes looking around the room and careful to never meet his indifferent ones, while your voice lowers as you go on with the sentence, getting more and more insecure.
Choso’s eyes widens even more at your question, because
 are you really asking him out on a date? The sweetest girl ever? He only cared about his band and bass, but in that moment he thought that you would soon get on top of all that.
bassist!Choso who you discover is actually the shyest guy on the earth, and his aloof attitude is because of it. He is actually very thoughtful and intelligent and loves to talk about his passion about music, but will also listen attentively when you talk about your things. He actually thinks that he would rather hear you talk about your life than him tell you about his music.
bassist!Choso who always teases you, loving the reactions he can get out of you. He does all those things that clearly show that he is in love with you: he ruffles your hair, squeezes your thighs, jokes with you etc
 You’re both obvious of your feelings, but everyone outside understands that there is something going on between you two.
bassist!Choso who does anything to impress you and always gets so excited when he sees you in the crowd, happily cheering for him in the front row. Everyone is impressed by how he seems to be more daring, going around the stage when he can and doesn’t keep his gaze fixed on his bass anymore but rather on you.
bassist!Choso who confesses his feeling for you through a song. You see him finally smiling on the stage, and he is actually very nervous to do this in front of everyone. However, he can’t hold back anymore, so he makes sure that when he sings those words, your gazes are fixed on each other.
“Even if
you left me out here stranded
my feelings wouldn’t change a bit
You know how I feel, baby
Infinite
The love I have for you, a diamond couldn’t put a dent in it”
bassist!Choso who runs to you the moment he gets down the stage, ignoring everyone else when he knows that you’re waiting for him backstage. Your heart is beating so fast that you are scared that he might hear it when he hugs you and holds you tightly against him.
“You were really good out there,” you tease him, pulling back from his embrace. A little grin tugs at the corner of his lips and his brows rise, “yeah? Did you also like how I confessed my feelings for you?”. Your breath hitches at his confirmation, and you can swear that your heart is going to give out before a nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you talk, “especially that moment
 you stole the words from my mouth”.
You’ve never seen him smile so broadly after your words, but you’re interrupted gaping when he kisses you. His band mates gasp when they see it, before screaming and cheering for you two.
bassist!Choso who is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine. From the outside, he looks like a bad guy with all his piercings and tattoos, but in reality he is just a silly guy and a nerd for music. He loves to see you in the crowd during his concerts, looking at him. But he loves even more when he finally gets you on his bed, laying naked on your back while he fucks you.
bassist!Choso who fucks you slow and nice, dragging his big cock inside you lazily, making you feel every inch of him and his veins. His swollen tip always hits your sweet spot making you let out those precious little moans that he knows he will put in a song so everyone can hear the sweet melody that you are.
bassist!Choso who teases you on purpose when he is practicing with his bass, knowing that you love when his fingers nonchalantly move on the four strings. He makes it even harder for you when he makes sure to not wear a t-shirt, so you can see his toned chest and strong arms, his muscles flexing as he moves his fingers on the instrument.
“Cho,” you whine, squirming on your seat, and feeling the waves of the bass hit your core. Your boyfriend glances up at you with a mock innocent expression, and you almost faint when he continues playing even if his gaze is on you, “what, princess?”.
You pout slightly and crawl closer to him, nuzzling against his shoulder before cupping his cheek and pecking his lips, “stop teasing me,” you murmur, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He raises his brows casually but he can’t hold back the grin that spreads on his lips, “doing what?”. You roll your eyes at his words, and you’re quick to move his hands away from his bass, putting them on your body, making sure that he gives all the attention you deserve and not to that stupid instrument.
bassist!Choso who knows how to use his fingers in the proper way. He always makes sure to make you cum on them at least twice before doing anything else. He likes to prep you for his cock, because he knows he is big and you can’t fit him if your pussy isn’t properly stretched.
bassist!Choso who loves to see you with his bass, trying to learn how to play it. He teaches you, placing your fingers the right way, his bigger ones caressing your skin. His special way to teach you is to sit behind you, his fingers playing with your sweet pussy while he guides you with his voice, clicking his tongue when you almost drop his instrument.
bassist!Choso who scares anyone but you. And he still doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, but you make the exception. He only cares about his music and his band
 and you, only you.
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i’m probably gonna make a part 2 because this wasn’t enough and i barely scratched the surface (*ᮗ͈ˬᮗ͈)ê•€*.
(thanks Tyler The Creator for the lyrics)
(m.list)
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na0koz · 1 month ago
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oh my gawwd that ballerina fic was tew good
 could we get a pt 2 smth smutty of them after the shows please <3
yesss u can. i lowk love the ballerina reader thing jinx would be so fascinated by her.
toxic!jinx masterlist
MDNI. jinx eats u out, top jinx, semi public (?? in a dressing room). not proofread (sorry)
you had finally finished the last performance of a particularly important show with your ballet school, dancing the lead part. you danced beautifully, perfectly.
this show was especially important for you, as your girlfriend was in the audience. you had reserved the perfect seat for her with the best view of the stage. she watched intently, completely in awe of how you moved in time with the music.
jinx was so proud of you and how far you’ve come. she watched almost all of your shows, picked you up from rehearsals, helped you practice, everything. she wanted you to be the best dancer and would help you do that.
the show was over, and you stood in the middle of the stage with your fellow dancers as you accepted the applause and flowers thrown from the audience. though, you didn’t really care for that, you were only looking at jinx. grinning at each other, you tried to catch your breath as the curtains drew shut.
as the audience filed out, jinx followed for the most part until she eventually separated off, headed for the dressing rooms. she made her way to final one along the dim corridor, one with your name plastered on the door. as the lead, you got your own private dressing room.
she knocked lightly before letting herself in. you smiled at her sweetly as she came in, looking at her through the reflection of your mirror.
“did so good, baby.” jinx hummed, pulling you up by your waist to hug you.
she hugged you tightly, as she always does, swaying the two of you from side to side.
“ ‘m so proud of you,” she said into your shoulder, muffled by your flesh.
you pull back slightly, continuing to smile at your girlfriend. she leaned in to kiss you, something she always did after your shows, yet this time she seemed more needy, hungrier.
you whined into the kiss, returning it sloppily. you could practically feel your lipstick being smudged over both of your lips, but you didn’t really care and neither did jinx, it seemed.
she nipped at your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth to let her lick around your mouth with her tongue. you oblige, whimpering again when she intertwined her tongue with your own.
wondering what caused her to be so needy, you think back to anything that could have made her jealous. often times, if someone made jinx jealous, she would make out with you as soon as she could to try and prove her ownership of you. i mean, she never said any of that out loud, but it didn’t take much to figure it out.
you realise it was likely your male counterpart in the show, who held your hand a bit too tightly at the end of the show, pulling you into an awkward looking side hug.
smiling slightly into the kiss, you’re actually kind of glad that jinx is the very extremely jealous type. you can’t say you don’t enjoy these rushed make outs, especially when the adrenaline from your show was still coursing through your veins.
finally, jinx breaks the kiss, but only for a moment as she pushes you onto the sofa in the back of your dressing room.
“let me show you how proud i am, mkay?” she almost whispered, as she laid you down gently.
her hands smoothed down your stomach while she pulled your sheer tights hastily down your thighs. she finally knelt in front of the sofa, face to face with your heat as she hooked your leg over her shoulder.
you nod frantically, murmuring a ‘please, jinx’ as if it was a curse word. you said it quietly and with a tone of desire in your voice. you wanted, no, needed the release jinx was about to bring you to so desperately.
your girlfriend grinned at your response, it never gets old to her how much you want her, need her. she flicked her braids behind her back out of her face as she pulled your panties down to meet your tights that were crumpled around your ankles, a pale pink to match the rest of your outfit.
the sight of your pussy alone is enough to make jinx drool. your previous make out turned you on a little more than you anticipated, and flushed red as you watch jinx lick her lips at the sight of your dripping hole.
“stop staring..” you mumble, attempting to close your legs. you’re obviously stopped by a firm hand, one that squeezes the flesh of your thigh and pushes it back to its original position.
“i should be able to see my meal before i eat it, right?” jinx said in a mocking tone. you know she’s just teasing, but it still only heightens the embarrassment you’re feeling.
“okay well
you’ve looked long enough,” you sheepishly reply. you just want her to indulge you.
jinx laughs again, you’re not sure if it’s at you or not, but you don’t really have the capacity to think about that when her lips wrap around your clit.
you whine, clawing at the material of the sofa supporting you. jinx is relentless, suckling on the bundle of nerves; her tongue flicking over it hungrily before she brings one slender finger to your hole.
she prods at your entrance, teasing your convulsing cunt while she looks up at you with wide eyes. your face has since warped into an expression of pure bliss as the coil in your stomach continues to tighten.
seeing you like this only spurs jinx on, causing her to lap at your slick pussy with even more enthusiasm. a moan of her name, almost with the likes of a plea, encourages her to eventually push the finger teasing your pussy into your tight walls.
bucking your hips into jinx’s mouth, you cry out at the added stimulation. you clap a hand over your mouth as a weak attempt at muffling your moans. getting caught in this state would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you.
the sight of you trying to hide the heavenly noises makes jinx groan into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up your spine while you squeeze your eyes shut. she reaches up and pulls your hand away from your mouth.
“let me hear you,” she murmurs into your pussy before continuing to fuck her finger into you, sucking your clit once again.
she adds another finger, maybe to make you feel better, maybe to make you moan out loud again. the answer to that doesn’t matter right now, not when you feel as good as this.
jinx curls her fingers up to that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. she can feel your walls clenching around her fingers, and she’s getting desperate now. she just wants you to cum in her mouth, maybe a little selfish but at the same time, you get an orgasm out of it. who’s to know whether it’s selfish or not.
“ji- jinx
 gonna c- um.. please..!” you can barely get your words out, mind clouded by pleasure as the lewd squelching noises of your gooey pussy fill the room.
jinx smiles and gives your clit a final suckle as you cum, hard. she laps up your release greedily as she continues to plunge her fingers in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm.
finally, she pulls her fingers out and sucks them clean while you whine at the sudden emptiness. you breath heavily, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.
giving your pussy one last lick, cleaning up the final drops of your cum, jinx crawls back up to meet your face and give you a sloppy kiss. she grins at your fucked out expression, wiping the tears from your cheek.
she relishes in the knowledge that she is the only one who makes you feel like this. she strokes your hair and praises you sweetly.
“such a good girl f’me.”
you hum and rest your head on her shoulder, still only just catching your breath. jinx lets you rest a little before helping you pack yourself up and bring you home to the dinner she tried to prepare for you.
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p0orbaby · 3 months ago
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I'm so giddy for Wicked so can I request a blurb about Arsenal teen who's into musical theatre and has a show or something that the team go to watch in support???
-
It starts with Leah. It always does. She finds out because you leave your script on the bench at the training ground, a heavily dog-eared copy of Grease. Your name is scrawled in the corner of the front page, along with random doodles—hearts, stars, some vaguely car-like thing that was supposed to be a reference to the Thunder Road scene but ended up looking more like a potato on wheels.
Leah picks it up and, in typical Leah fashion, starts reading it aloud. Dramatically. By the end of her impromptu performance, Katie has joined in, doing the worst American accent you’ve ever heard and shouting, “Tell me about it, stud!”
By the end of the day, the entire squad knows you’re playing Sandy in some local production of Grease.
“Sandy?” Katie says during warm-ups the next day, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Didn’t know you were into leather trousers”
“I didn’t know you were into reading my stuff,” you fire back, glaring.
“What songs do you get to sing?” Beth asks, suddenly invested.
“All the bangers,” Katie answers for you. “Hopelessly Devoted. You’re the One That I Want. She’s probably been practising the hand jive in her bedroom”
“Can we not do this?” you mutter, stretching in an attempt to hide the faint blush creeping up your neck.
They don’t stop. Beth hums Summer Nights under her breath every time she sees you. Steph suggests the squad should do a Grease theme for a fancy-dress night. Katie spends an entire training session calling you “Sandra Dee,” much to RenĂ©e’s exasperation.
And then they buy tickets.
You don’t find out until Leah casually mentions it while you’re tying your boots. “We’re coming to your show, by the way”
“Who’s we?” you ask warily.
“The team”
“All of you?”
“Obviously,” she says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “We got the front row”
The night of the performance, you’re convinced something will go wrong. Maybe the mic will cut out, or you’ll trip during Greased Lightning. Or worse—Katie will heckle you from the audience.
As you step onto the stage, the lights blinding, you spot them immediately. They’re hard to miss. Leah’s in the middle, holding a pink ladies’ jacket that looks two sizes too small for her. Katie is beside her, wearing sunglasses indoors and a white T-shirt with “T-Birds” scrawled on it in Sharpie. Beth has a foam finger. Where she got it, you’ll never know.
The show goes on. You hit every note, every step, every wistful glance at Danny Zuko. During You’re the One That I Want, Katie lets out a cheer so loud you almost miss your cue.
By the time the curtain falls, you’re drenched in sweat and half-mortified. The standing ovation feels surreal, though it’s mostly them, clapping and whistling loud enough to make up for the other half of the audience.
Backstage, they barge in like they own the place. Leah hugs you first, grinning like a proud big sister. “You smashed it,” she says.
Beth holds up her phone. “I got the hand jive on video.”
“Delete it”
“Absolutely not”
Katie, predictably, starts singing We Go Together at full volume, much to the annoyance of the cast and crew still trying to pack up.
“You lot are ridiculous,” you say, but you’re smiling, the words softened by the warmth of their support.
Leah drives you home, Katie still singing in the backseat. And despite the chaos, the embarrassment, and Katie’s mangled rendition of Beauty School Dropout, you think to yourself: this is what family feels like.
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