#few off points but ultimately a good piece
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i’ve made and deleted this post quite a few times over the last couple of days. and at first, i wasn’t going to say anything because this doesn’t even cover what i wanted to say by even a little, but ultimately, seeing a few others make similar posts encouraged me, and i really just need to get this off my chest, and if it resonates with one person, then i’m happy. this is not coherent at all, but like many, my brain is mush, so forgive me, and here we go...
as a (closeted) queer palestinian american woman, a daughter to immigrant parents, living in a fairly conservative state, i’m fucking terrified. i don’t have faith my rights are protected here. i don’t have faith that my parents and my sisters will be safe every time they step out of the house (in true typical arab fashion; i am white passing, they are not). my family has been targeted and met with violence numerous times since october of last year, and it's only going to get worse. which brings me to my next point.
i also don’t have faith that the genocide in gaza (that has now expanded to south lebanon and syria) is coming to an end, an end where palestinians can live and thrive in their native land anytime soon. and seeing people turn on us — so fast, spewing hate in saying “fuck palestine”, “fuck boycotting” and “you don’t care about my rights, so i don’t care about yours,” is incredibly saddening, disappointing, and infuriating. my grief, anger, and anxiety are at their peak and have been at their peak for well over a year now. and i don't have the brain capacity to say what i really want to say about the hatred and misplaced anger being directed towards arabs, but for now i will say this:
now is not the time to turn on one another. now is not the time for infighting within marginalized groups. now is not the time to be selfish. to care about yourselves and not others, makes you no better than them. that is why this country is so divisive in the first place. that is how we got here. having that mentality — that ideology is dangerous and destructive. you are doing the work for white supremacists. you are perpetuating white supremacy. and it isn’t going to serve any of us because essentially our struggles as oppressed groups are deeply interconnected. we need to look out for one another. take care of one another. it will get worse before it gets better. and we’re only at the tip of the iceberg.
the fight isn’t over; we’re just getting started. and i know you’re tired; i, for one, am at my breaking point. but we cannot let them win. so let yourself feel whatever it is you need to feel right now: grief, anger, sadness, hurt, whatever it is; it's all valid, and believe me, you are not alone. take the time to feel it. and then let it fuel you and your ambitions.
i also want to reiterate that this is a safe space for all. except anyone who believes trump is a good man and voted for that racist, fascist, rapist piece of shit. y’all can fuck right off. the rest of you: disabled people, chronically ill people, queer people, aro-ace people (i’m specifically pointing you out because i know how we're treated in queer spaces, and it is not fair nor is it right), trans people, women, people of color, sexual assault survivors — if you're reading this and you're unsure of your place, please stay. i need you. i care about you. this place and this world are better with you in it. you are welcome here. you are safe here.
i’ll be here for anyone who needs it, whether it’s to chat about silly little fandom things — it’s imperative we protect this space and continue to encourage the creation of art around here. it’s imperative we stop normalizing the censorship and policing of fandom spaces (because that's another reason how we got here). fandom spaces are communities, and very often they are the only spaces where people feel safe. for most (myself included), it’s all we have left — or whether you want to vent about how much you hate the state of the world — you'll always have a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on in this tiny little nook here. seriously. my inbox and dm's are always open.
hold each other close. protect one another. the only way we’re going to get through this is if we stand together and continue putting in the work, because it’s times like this when the real work begins.
i’m sending you all so so much love. forever and always.
noelle xx
#and i've said it before but i'll say it again#the best revenge is living and doing shit out of spite#noelle speaks
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Hi, it's me again. I decided to follow your advice and try to seek out your 'actually serious' analysis, which led me to your komahina bible, the most easy to find compilation of this supposed analysis. Here are my thoughts-
1) Overview
- Most of this 'analysis' isn't analysis but a summary/overview of the game. It's not so much a 'bible' as a children's book summary of the bible, which at that point it would be better to play the actual game itself. It's clear it was made for a presentation on the 'uninitiated' if you will, but if that's the case, you shouldn't be advertising it as the literal bible on the subject.
- When you are not regurgitating points from the game beat by beat, the screen is halfway filled with either manga panels or fanart. My gripes with manga panels are, that even though they do depict the events of the game, the way they can be depicted by the artist can be pretty subjective due to the freedom of the medium in comparison to sprites, and that the role of one character can differ depending on whose pov manga it is (chiaki vs nagito). Fan art therefore should be scrutinized even more since it fully depicts abstracted and even the fandomified version of events, leading to situations where it's either unclear what is actually happening or betrays your more shallow view of the characters (i talk abt this later.)
- When you do use pictures directly from the game it's either a possible screenshot from a memorable moment or dialog from the wiki, limited almost exclusively to the freetime events. This leads me to believe that you haven't actually played the game(there are other factors hinting towards this) or watched a Let's Play of it, but going off of merely information that's already widely known and circulating within the fandom, and easy to search on the wiki.
2) Incorrect/Questionable information
Here I'll compile a lot of information that's either plainly wrong or baffling to having come to that conclusion , leading more credence to the theory that you either haven't actually played the game or your memory of it isnt as good as you think.
-"if Nagito's plan went off of without a hitch, he would have killed anyone that was closes to him at the time" plainly wrong. Komaeda's goal from the start was to make himself the victim, so by dying this way his death could have meaning and help the others. For somebody that keeps talking about Komaeda's "Martyr complex" this is truly a weird take to have.
-"Nagito...got the nurse for sure sick" is there any proof that specifically points to Komaeda for this? I believe the takeaway should've been that Mikan got sick because she was around all of them AND she overworked herself trying to take care of them. Is this just an awkwardly phrased attempt to make more of a connection between Tsumiki and Komaeda? I don't think you needed more than the ones that already existed.
- "he helps Junko brainwash a bunch of students" Kamukura at neither point in the anime or Danganronpa 0 was ever specifically implicated in the brainwashing. He never 'helps' Junko, especially in that way. If you meant, participates in the student council killing game, you should've said that, but even then his agency and influence is limited.
-"they found the Remnants and captured them!"...no, they didn't. The Remnants presented themselves as survivors and the Foundation took them in. They handed themselves over willingly. It was a pretty big piece of the final part of the game...
3) Komaeda and Komahina
- "Nagito's habit of putting people on pedestals" Where. Sure, he certainly parrots the belief that the "Ultimates" as a unit are at the top of the food chain and should be prioritised, but its clear that doesn't exactly carry over to his classmates like teruteru, Kuzuryu and even Souda sometimes. Just because of a few positive comments refering to them as Ultimates and the trial which he literally breaks down in, this is a hard position to support.
-"Nagito manipulates Hajime into playing the game" How. He literally just told him to play it. How is that manipulation. Also, isn't it a bit unfair to put the blame on Koizumi's death to him as well? I think they were multiple factors playing into this, but sure, how else are you gonna convince people that Komaeda is a twisted fucking cyclepath that loves leading people to their deaths.
-The way that you say the Kuzuryu/Pekoyama relationship mirrors Komahina as 'I will give up my agency for you/ I just want you' is also confusing. Unless of course you mirror Peko's struggle with her agency and harmful beliefs the clan enforced on her with Komaeda's own belief system, in which case, idk man, i feel like you are giving a bit too much credit to the supposed severity of Komaeda's views and trying too hard to make Hinata the 'rational' and 'grounding' one in the relationship.
- Again, the amount of times you refer to Komaeda as a freak for doing something 'weird' or even being drawn weirdly doing it , mostly in the manga, makes me belief this isn't just an affectionate tongue in cheek joke as you claim, but an actual way in which your interpretation of Komaeda is colored.
-"it doesn't excuse his nonchalance towards tragedy and murder but explains it" what needs to be excused here exactly? Komaeda doesn't need to immediately bawl his eyes out when someone gets killed or else he's suspicious and...bad? I am confused with what you mean by this. If you mean that Komeada shouldn't be so nonchalant about murder because he's constantly trying to kill someone else, that is plainly incorrect and i explained above why.
-Posturing about Komaeda's 'black and white thinking' while in the next exact slide you show fanart of him smugly explaining he has Borderline. First, i want you to explain to me the black and white thinking in a way that isn't "oh, the friends and classmates i previously liked turned out to be fucking terrorists". I think that's a pretty justifiable situation for your thinking to go from white to black. Also, if that is enough credence to assign Komaeda BPD, you really don't know how BPD works, especially since you assigned it to the one character you constantly talk about being a freak (and also lust...pseudo lust? after).
- The insistence with Hinata not really understanding Komaeda and running away, even if he wants to understands him is pretty suspect, especially when compared to the game. Hinata is confused and overwhelmed yes, but it's not just that he wants to understand Komaeda but that he still feels fondness for him, he still follows his advice and puts his faith in him and the way he mourns him in Chapter 5 is also pretty indicative of this. It's just another part in the pattern in you making Hinata the confused, rational, 'morally pure' man that's 'tempted' by 'corrupted' manic pixie mentally ill demon Komaeda. Something tells me your priest AU isn't so much playing with dolls as much as...what you actually believe these characters dynamic is.
- The whole page where Servant is basically made into a joke about how hot and sexy and freaky he is doesn't help your point either.
-The most damning evidence of course is a drawing in the second to last slide, wherein Komaeda is supposed to be analogous to 'guy who has something wrong with him' (distorted, freak, mentally ill) and Hinata is analogous to the guy that 'is the only one that understands them' (the rational one, the relationship of understanding doesn't go both ways).
- Your slide with sources is pretty vague and unclear. Also the way that you credit "Your superior mind" before the game itself when all you've been doing is repeating and misinterpreting the plot of the game is ...ironic
So yeah, that's all I got. Feel free to 'debunk' my observations as much as you please, I just want to know if there's actual basis behind everything you just said or I should go digging for 'the actual serious analysis' yet again.
i think you forgot that fandom is meant to be fun
#ask#anon#tw anon hate#i’m not gonna go through each individual point here bc frankly that’d be a waste of my time#so i’m just going to say this:#i am someone who makes jokes. funny haha jokes. i Laugh. i Shitpost. Common Fandom Behavior#‘freak’ is a word i use to refer to myself more often than anyone else#i view it with a positive connotation. and also kmda is objectively weird!! that is part of what makes his character good#i use 2 definitions of ‘freak’: the first is Related To Sex and the second is Strange Or Bizarre#komaeda is a strange and bizarre person who is regularly used for fanservice#you could for sure say maybe i have some sort of bias with calling people ‘freaks’ but for you to assume ill intent is nasty#that presentation was made to give my irl friends an understanding of what i mean when i talk abt kmhn#‘kmhn bible’ is a JOKE title. it’s a BIT. i don’t know if you’ve noticed but i try to have fun around here#anywho. i’m not going to argue semantics with someone who is clearly convinced that i couldn’t possibly know what i’m talking about#that’s not worth my time or energy.#i’m going to continue to have fun on the internet with my friends. i am going to continue making my funny jokes#i am going to continue to make weird bad not-quite-horny art. and i’m going to be happy#you can either block me like an adult and move on with your life. or you can send me another anon#if you do send me that ask know that i will block you. this is a conversation i am done having#because i will not have these conversations with people who refuse fo respect me#it’s clear that you have it in your head that you’re smarter than me. which sure whatever believe what you want idgaf#but regardless of how you view me i am not obligated to prove myself to you. ever#thanks for downloading my funny little powerpoint though ^_^
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We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.
How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?
You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.
He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.
He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.
Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)
At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.
He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.
It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.
You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.
Astarion's eyes go heavy.
Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.
You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.
You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.
There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.
You cling to him like a lifeline.
Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.
And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.
#bg3#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#bg3 tav#astarion headcanons
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Foreshadowing Ideas
• Character themes/motifs. I’ve heard of one writer who tries to give each character their own theme for similes, metaphors, descriptions, etc so there’s like a theme to the way they’re portrayed. You could use that to foreshadow notable secrets about the character that will later be revealed, or if at any point they’re disguised then you can use that to tip off the reader that they have the same motifs and so might be related/the same person
• Tiny details hidden in lists. Say the MC was trying to work out the identity of a bad guy, who we know was wearing a red shirt on the day of a big bad event. A few chapters later, MC is checking around their best friend’s room to find them, with the place its usual mess with discarded takeaway boxes, the bed unmade, a red shirt left on the floor that could use a good sweep. The red shirt might not click with all the readers, but those who register it upon their first read will eat it up
• Inconsistent behavioural patterns. Once we have a good idea of what a character is like, having them act out of character can set off alarm bells and make us question what’s occurred to make them act this way. Let the other characters register it too, if it’s reasonable that they would, but let them ultimately brush it off quite quickly to keep it subtle. Or just call it right out, whichever you prefer
• Unreliable narrators. Let one character say one thing and a second character say another, even if they both ultimately agree on the same thing but get one or two small details wrong. Ideally do this two or three times in order for the reader to know it’s not just a mistake in the plot but an intentional inconsistency, but even if it’s only done once and it’s taken as a mistake it’ll still slot together like puzzle pieces in the end and they’ll be kicking themself for dismissing it
• In-universe red herrings. If you’re going to add red herrings as foreshadowing, it’s helpful if the red herring aligns with the intentions of someone person aware of the upcoming plot twist who’s trying to control the narrative. Say the plot twist was the reveal of a mysterious character’s identity to be the best friend of the MC, the best friend might have deliberately thrown the MC off their scent by planting suspicions in the MC’s mind that a different character was the mysterious character’s identity all along. This is less about foreshadowing the actual reveal, of course, but rereads will be a punch to the gut when everyone realises that all this misinformation and red herring business came from someone trying to cover their own ass rather than coming from misunderstandings or multiple other random sources
#writing#writers#bookblr#writeblr#book#writing inspiration#writing advice#on writing#writing tips and tricks#writing tips#writing help#foreshadowing#how to write#writersociety#writersnetwork#writers of tumblr#writer#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writerblr
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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity
୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo
You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”
You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try.
The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”
“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”
You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”
Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”
“Some would call me experienced, yes.”
His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”
“Say what again?”
“Steak au whatever.”
You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”
Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”
“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”
“Any more French, you mean?”
He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak.
“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass.
Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”
“No way,” you chortle.
“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”
The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail.
“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”
He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”
“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.
“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”
You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”
“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.
“Toji, honey, are you alright?”
What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?
“Can we fuck now?”
“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”
Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. ���No.”
“No?”
“I don’t wanna talk about work.”
“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”
He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in.
A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.
Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance.
God, you won't even look at him.
Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”
You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.
“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”
It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.
This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips.
At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him.
“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.
You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.
He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I trust you, too, Toji.”
He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around.
Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.
He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.
Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.
“No marks, I’ve got work.”
His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now.
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.
“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other.
“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle.
“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”
And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”
You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”
His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”
Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline.
“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”
You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”
You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”
“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”
He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.
Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.
Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.
“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”
Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.
It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.
Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.
Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”
He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.
“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”
He’s good.
“You’re so good.”
“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.
Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”
“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.
The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.
Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.
He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.
“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”
“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.
“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.
Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.
His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.
“You alright?”
A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.
“Answer me, please.”
Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.
“You’re filthy.”
He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”
You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”
You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”
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—catalyst.
pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader
genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s little brother au
word count: 5.4k
summary: when your best friend points out how there seems to be something more than just a platonic friendship going on between you and hyunjin, you couldn’t help but start questioning everything you’ve been doing together so far.
a/n: and we finally get y/n’s pov!! (and a little bit of hyunie’s as always lol can’t help myself). there is a lotttttt of overthinking on her end so please go easy on her, she just got hit by facts she hadn’t thought twice about before (thank u chan).
if anyone comes across this in the tags, this is part 15.2 of a social media series called heart out! you can read it as a stand-alone but i wouldn’t recommend it since there are a lot of references to the previous parts of the story.
as always i hope you all enjoy! if you do, please let me know your thoughts on it<3
When you woke up that day, you never would’ve expected to end up with so many unanswered questions by the end of it.
It was supposed to be a normal day — a great one, actually. You were having lunch at the Hwang’s household, and that itself was enough to make you happy as ever.
It had been a while since you’d last seen Hyunjin and Yeji’s parents, let alone shared a meal with them, so you took it upon yourself to get up extra early that morning in order to make some dessert for them —a lemon pie and a chocolate one, as they were Mr. and Mrs. Hwang’s favourites— and still have enough time left to get ready.
Yeji called you out as soon as she and Chan arrived to pick you up, ranting about how it wasn’t necessary for you to bring anything, while you and Chan could only laugh, knowing well enough she was already eyeing the lemon pie and thinking of how many pieces she would have.
What only made it funnier to you was that you knew you’d get a similar reaction from Hyunjin once you met him at his parents’, only he’d be eyeing the chocolate pie instead.
Said and done, as soon as you entered their house and Hyunjin came up to greet you —not without first letting you know just how hurt he was over you sharing a ride with your friends instead of him—, he began to go on about how he told you that you didn’t need to bring their parents any presents, like you said you would after his mother had so generously made you some soup when you were in bed with a fever a week ago. Nevertheless, you could see the way he stole a few glances at the chocolate pie, before offering to take it to the kitchen, while Yeji did the same with the lemon one. You could never get bored with these two.
Their parents, you knew very well by now, were just the same as them. It was clear where Yeji and Hyunjin got their humor and antics from.
You always had a very nice time with them, as they’d always find the right topic to keep the conversation going. But then for some reason your dating life made it to the conversation at one point and Mingyu was brought up by their mother asking you about the ‘handsome young man’ they met a couple of times; and somehow that alone would be the catalyst that set off a series of events that ultimately left you questioning your entire relationship with Hyunjin later that night.
“So you are definitely not getting back together with him?” Their mother asked at last, once the whole ‘Mingyu lore’, as Yeji called it, had been covered.
“Um…” you hesitated, eyes unconsciously locking with Hyunjin next to you, before you looked for Yeji, who was in front of him. “No, we’re not”.
“Oh, dear” she lamented. “What he did was such a shame, the two of you certainly made a very nice couple”.
“You heard how he turned out to be an asshole, though” Yeji pointed out, taking the words from Hyunjin’s mouth and inevitably having him and Chan nod in silent agreement.
“It’s a good thing you’re moving past him” their father chimed in this time.
You nodded, giving him a gentle smile. You were trying your best, for sure.
“His parents must be devastated” Mrs. Hwang lamented again, bringing your attention back to her.
This time, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, I got along really well with them, but I wouldn’t go as far as to think they’re devastated”.
“Losing a daughter-in-law as beautiful and attentive as you…” she explained, bringing some heat to your cheeks that you tried to play off by taking a sip of water. “The two of you would’ve made such beautiful children”.
The water you were drinking didn’t follow the path down your throat it should’ve at the sound of her statement, and you inevitably ended up choking on it.
“Yah, mum” Hyunjin called her out, gently patting your back as you tried to catch your breath. “Can we not mention children and her ex in the same sentence?”
“Right, sorry” she apologised, handing you a napkin and giving you a soft smile before her eyes focused on her husband; ignoring the way Hyunjin’s hand remained unconsciously drawing small circles on your back until you were able to breathe normally again. “But just imagine if we had that kind of genes in the family”.
“Did she just call us ugly?” Yeji frowned, locking eyes with Hyunjin, who couldn’t help but chuckle instead of acting offended like his sister — in his eyes you were on a whole other level of beauty after all.
“Honestly though, even I feel offended now” Chan butted in. “I don’t recall you wanting my genes this bad”.
“They met you when we were already a couple, she probably would’ve tried to bribe you too otherwise” Yeji let him know with a cynical laugh, having you all follow right after.
“Trust me, she’s already pictured how cute your children will be” Mr. Hwang let the couple know.
“Can we not?” Yeji pleaded with red cheeks this time. Chan, on the other hand, could not let the opportunity to tease her pass, poking her cheek and repeating in a squeaky voice just how cute their kids would be. “Back to the topic of Y/N’s genes, please” she begged.
“Jeez! Thanks, best friend” you ironically said amidst an incredulous laugh, earning a finger heart and an obnoxious smile from her in response.
“My point was,” their mother resumed her previous train of thought. “Now that Y/N’s single, I’m kind of wishing we had an older son. Imagine how beautiful their children would be if she became a Hwang”.
Well, that certainly felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown right at Hyunjin.
“Hyunjin’s right here, though?” Chan pointed out before the youngest could begin to get lost in his —quite angsty— thoughts. “They’re both in their twenties, I’d say there’s hope for Y/N to become a Hwang”.
And maybe, if you weren’t too busy kicking Chan under the table, you would’ve noticed the shy smile curving up Hyunjin’s mouth, as well as his slightly rosy cheeks as he looked down to his still nearly untouched food.
Maybe if Yeji wasn’t too busy laughing at her boyfriend after getting hit and ever so poorly trying to comfort him, she would’ve noticed her brother being all flustered, too.
But, thankfully for him, his parents did. And that was enough for them to nod their heads in silent understanding.
That was the last comment they made about your dating life that afternoon, having no trouble directing the topic once again towards Chan and Yeji’s relationship instead.
You, on the other hand, although had managed to do a pretty good job at following whatever topic was brought up for the rest of the meal, could not seem to let Chan’s comment go.
It was out of place. Way out of it. What did Hyunjin have to do with it anyway? Like, yes, they were talking about you becoming a Hwang and, yes, he was the only son they had, but that didn’t immediately make him an option?
He was three years younger than you. He was only seventeen and still in high school when you met, whereas you were in your second year of university. It felt wrong to even think about it. And it was even worse considering that there was a reason his mum had explicitly mentioned her wish to have an older son instead of pushing you towards Hyunjin right away. It didn’t seem right for them either, as far as you could tell from what had just gone down.
Which is why you couldn’t let it go. Not even after you and Hyunjin got back to your place, like you had agreed to earlier that day when you decided to share a car with Chan and Yeji instead of him, and he wasted no time to secure his much needed alone time with you once you were done at his parents’.
You’d excused yourself to the kitchen to make some popcorn while Hyunjin was comfortably resting on your couch as he looked for any romcom movie to watch while he sipped on the hot chocolate you made as soon as you got home, and you took those few minutes away from him to text Chan and ask for an explanation.
And, God, did you get one.
You re-read the conversation over and over after he went offline, unable to understand where the hell had it all come from.
“He’s 23 now”.
“You may have met when he was 17 but he’s an adult now”.
“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.
“I’m just trying to make you see and actually consider all your choices”.
“Hyunjin is not a little boy anymore”.
Every single text, hitting harder than the other.
Of course he was no longer a little boy. He stopped being one a long time ago, you weren’t stupid. But he was still Hyunjin, Yeji’s little brother. Nothing would ever change that.
You were supposed to care for him just like she did, to be there for him and protect him when the time came. He wasn’t supposed to be ‘a choice’ for you like any other guy could.
He was Hyunjin, the teenage boy who hardly talked to you the weekend you first met and would stutter almost every time he did, and who would so shyly let you and Yeji know dinner was ready whenever you stayed at theirs after that.
Hyunjin, the high school student you’d give some advice regarding the university admission test and applications throughout his last year of it, and whose graduation you attended later on.
Hyunjin, who made it to your university and would constantly ask for your help in his assignments, regardless of him having chosen a completely different major; and who you’d constantly check up on to make sure he was doing okay in his first year of it.
Hyunjin, who held you tight as ever the night Mingyu left you, and refused to go home like Yeji told him it was okay for him to until he was sure you were sound asleep and no longer crying, which didn’t happen until way past four in the morning.
Hyunjin, who would text to check up on you every single day after your breakup, even if it meant getting very short, cold answers from the heartbroken and detached persona that had taken over your body the following weeks.
Hyunjin, who included you in his New Year’s Eve plans and kept you company the entire weekend Yeji and Chan were away.
Hyunjin, who made it known he missed being as close as you once got to be years ago and took the lead to propose picking up where you left off.
Hyunjin, the man who had spent the entire past month making your days better by simply texting or showing up at your place — being there for you even when you didn’t need him to.
Had you really missed how much he was there for you? When was it that the roles reversed and he started to look after you instead?
You jumped when the microwave started beeping, letting you know the popcorn was ready. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you rushed to pour the popcorn into a bowl before making your way back into the living room.
Hyunjin’s head snapped in your direction, unable to hide his smile as soon as he saw you.
You gulped, trying your best to calm your heartbeats down before you took a seat next to him right as he placed the now empty mug on the coffee table. Maybe you should’ve texted Chan later that night, when Hyunjin was back at his place and you wouldn’t have to face him right away after being hit with so many questions.
“I was like one minute away from going over there to see what was taking you so long” he confessed.
“Just making us a small snack” you smiled cutely, shaking the bowl in your hands to make your point.
“I’m pretty sure popcorn takes like three minutes to make in the microwave,” he pointed out, shoving a single one into his mouth. “You took like seven”.
You scoffed in amusement. “Did you set a timer or something?”
“No, but I watched three whole movie trailers,” he admitted, earning a breathy laugh from you. “And that without counting the minutes I spent scrolling through movies to watch. I’d say you took at least ten minutes, actually”.
“Did you miss me that much to actually count the minutes?” You couldn’t help but joke.
“Well, yes” he answered with no hesitation, and no signs of joking either; very unfortunately for your already shaken up heart. “I told you earlier that I hadn’t seen you all week and wanted to spend time with you”.
“We’ve been together nearly all day” you reminded him sweetly.
“Not alone, though” his words made you feel warm inside, like they seemed to be doing a lot lately. “It’s not the same”.
“Sorry,” you pouted, and that was enough for him to melt. “I got kinda caught up texting and… here, I’ll just leave my phone on the table so we’ll just focus on the movie”.
Placing your phone next to his on the coffee table in front, you leaned back against the sofa, tilting your head up towards the TV, so he’d hit ‘play’ and you could get started on your movie night.
When five seconds went by and he didn’t move an inch, you focused your eyes on him instead.
“Hyunie?” You called him, moving your hand in front of him to pull him out of his thoughts and smiling once you did. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, um, I just…” he struggled, having his eyes going back to your phone. “Was it work related? Like, was it… was he…”
“I was talking to Channie” you clarified when you got what was going through his mind. “Don’t be silly now, you really think I’d spend ten minutes of my life texting my ex boyfriend?”
“I mean, you guys have a project together now, so…”
“Still, we can just get it over with by email” you stood your ground. “I only spend that long texting people I actually enjoy talking to”.
He smiled, happy to know you would usually spend that amount of time texting —if not more— and, therefore, he was one of those lucky ones you enjoyed talking to.
Beaming after that realisation, and with the possibility of you talking to your ex out of the way, he grabbed the remote and pointed it to the TV.
“Is this one okay?” He asked, motioning towards the title ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ displayed on it.
You nodded quite effusively. “What are you waiting for, it’s one of my favourites”.
He bit his lip, but not even that was enough to hide the wide smile taking over his face as he leaned back against the couch as well and finally hit ‘play’. Of course he knew you loved that movie. He wasn’t choosing one only he enjoyed after all, and maybe knowing you’d get happy about it was the reason he ended up going with this particular one.
To be fair, he knew he’d spend half of the movie looking at you instead anyway. It was quite cute how you wouldn’t notice, being way too immersed in the plot you must’ve watched a hundred times by now.
Every now and then, he would reach for the popcorn at the same time as you, with the mere intention of his fingers faintly touching yours, but by the third time they touched and he got no reaction from you, he decided he wanted more — having your fingers touch without you noticing was not enough.
So, he slid slightly down the sofa, just enough for his face to be on the same level as yours, and then he rested his head on your shoulder.
That, you noticed. Hyunjin realised by the way your body tensed up under his touch.
And, for a moment there, he considered sitting up and going back to his previous position, hating the thought of his proximity making you feel uncomfortable; but you greatly surprised him by leaning your head on his before he could do so, silently letting him know right then that you did in fact enjoy being this close to him.
In the end, he had nothing to worry about when it came to touching you, for you had made it clear a while ago that it didn’t bother you. But, then again, he wasn’t sure whether you were only enduring it or actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know which touches were okay and which ones were crossing the line. And the thing was, so far, you enjoyed every single kind of physical contact he had tried with you. They were all brief, innocent even, sweet.
Him leaning his head on your shoulder hadn’t made you tense up because he crossed some kind of line, but because, unknown to him, your head was a complete mess right then. Unable to let your previous conversation with Chan go, you were now questioning the meaning behind this small action of his.
“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.
Was this what he meant by that? You and Hyunjin being this kind of close?
This was the first time he rested his head on your shoulder out of all the times you’d been sitting down on your couch just like this, and now you couldn’t tell whether you were overthinking too much because of your friend’s words, or whether you would’ve started overthinking just the same regardless of it.
Yes, he had held your hand before, but it was an act for the hotteok lady not to feel ashamed after thinking the two of you were a couple.
Yes, you had cuddled through the night on this very couch, but it was only because you passed out without either of you noticing.
Every other ‘major’ touch you shared had an excuse behind it. Hyunjin lying his head on your shoulder, however? It didn’t have one. He just felt like it, wanted to be close to you. And ultimately you ended up giving in and resting your head on his simply because you felt like it, too. It felt nice. Regardless of the mess going on in your head, you wanted to be close to him, too.
Was it even an overthinking matter anyway? Friends did this all the time, right? Both you and Chan used to do it a lot before you and Mingyu started dating. You and Yeji still did it a lot, too, up to this day. Why did it suddenly feel different with Hyunjin?
Damn you, Bang Chan. You certainly didn’t need this right now.
Once again, your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. This one was softer than your microwave’s beep, though, more like a buzz coming from one of the phones on the coffee table. Considering your phone wasn’t on silent mode right then, you knew it was Hyunjin’s.
“Your phone just buzzed” you let him know when he wouldn’t budge.
“Leave it” he replied simply, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“What if it’s important?” You wondered.
He sighed, already giving in — as easily as he always did when it came to you. “I’m too comfy, can you pass it to me?”
You nodded in a second, unable to hold back the chuckle that escaped your mouth when you leaned over to grab his phone and he followed your movement, as he refused to lift his head from its comfortable spot on your shoulder.
Just as you were back in your place and about to hand him his phone, though, its screen lit up, letting you see a single message from Dahye.
As soon as you saw it, you panicked, practically shoving the phone into Hyunjin’s hands.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have read that” you apologised, shamefully looking away.
Hyunjin frowned, sitting up in clear alert before he could check what you were talking about. His eyes opened wide once he read Dahye’s text and he immediately realised what it must’ve looked like to you.
It was a simple question: “Are you coming over tonight?”
No hello, no ‘Hyunjinie~’; just straight to the point, which couldn’t help but lead you to wonder whether texts like this and him going over to her place at night were an usual occurrence by now.
Hyunjin had told you all about her at New Year’s Eve. From how they kissed when he was drunk to how she wouldn’t leave him alone even years after it happened. He told you it was one sided, that he was tired of her constant insistence. But then why did that one text from her make it seem like that wasn’t precisely the case?
Unlike him, you hadn’t read Han’s message following Dahye’s, for it had just been delivered when he checked his phone right then. You hadn’t read the one message that gave the whole context to Dahye’s obscure text.
“She means to the pregame,” he was fast to clear up. “Han just texted me and apparently we’re going to a noraebang tonight and pregaming at Haeun’s. Dahye’s staying with her, so…”
You nodded, feeling like you weren’t in the place to say anything. It was his life, after all. He could be with whoever he wanted. He didn’t owe you any explanations. Fuck, did you want any explanations?
You didn’t know if you were feeling embarrassed for reading a text message that was supposed to be private, or if you were upset over the idea that Chan had just planted in your head being tainted not even an hour later.
Maybe you’d been thinking too much over something that wasn’t even there, being influenced by your best friend and what he thought was going on between you and Hyunjin. Maybe it was nothing after all.
But you couldn’t deny that you did feel quite uneasy over her text.
Were you upset that she was talking to him? Were you upset they were possibly hooking up? Was it being about Hyunjin you were upset about? Or were you just upset over how much the scene playing right in front of you resembled the times you’d just started questioning Mingyu’s relationship with Hayun while you were still together?
The times you’d catch the suspicious text messages popping up on his notifications, how nervous he would get and how he would start to throw excuse after excuse for you to believe he had nothing to do with her… You knew this feeling all too well, and you hated that you were feeling it again, with Hyunjin of all people, when you were not even together, you had no feelings for him as far as you knew, and, most importantly, you knew he was nothing like Mingyu at all.
And yet, here you were, feeling the goddamn lump in your throat you had felt one too many times by now because of a guy.
“Y/N?” He brought you back to reality. He looked worried. “I promise it doesn’t mean what it looked like”.
You had to hold back the hopeless laugh that threatened to escape your mouth at the sound of his words.
Words you had heard and decided to let pass way more times than you were proud of, and which brought you right back to the downfall of your last relationship.
You didn’t know which one of your concerns had to do with the trauma of your past relationship and which ones were actually related to the current situation you had just found yourself in.
When did it all stop being about Mingyu and it started being about Hyunjin?
“It’s okay” you gave him the most genuine smile you could give him, to let him know you were alright. Still, he didn’t look convinced. “You should get going, though”.
“I mean it, though” he pushed it when he could tell you weren’t convinced. “You can go through the t—”
“Hyunie,” you cut him off, this time with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay. I believe you”.
Did you?
“But apparently there is a pregame taking place in a bit, so you should get going”.
“You don’t even know at what time it is” he pouted.
“It’s a little past seven right now,” you pointed out, checking the time in your phone. “I’m guessing at seven thirty? Eight at most?”
Looking down to the group chat with his friends and realising you were right, he only made his pout more prominent.
“Am I right?” You wondered with a teasing smirk.
“Yes…” he let out a defeated sigh.
When you laughed triumphantly, he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go yet” he mumbled.
“You have to if you wanna make it in time with your friends”.
“I can always just skip pregame” he suggested, then sitting up again and looking at you with a mischievous smile. “Or skip night out as a whole”.
“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you scolded him. “You are not pulling a New Year’s Eve stunt on me again”.
“A New Year’s Eve stunt?” He wondered rather amusedly.
“You know, when you said you’d only stay with me until midnight and then ended up not going back to your friends that night” you explained.
“This is different, though. We had plans before”.
“Staying on the couch watching movies with me can’t even compete with going out with your friends”.
“No, you’re right” he nodded. “It can’t compete because staying in with you would win every time”.
“Hyunjin…” you tried your best to sound stern and not melt over his words. “Go”.
“But…”
“I’m not letting you skip yet another night out with your friends because of me”.
“Come with me then?” He asked with puppy eyes.
You were quick to look away, knowing well enough you would fall for his charms otherwise. “I’ll have to pass this time”.
“Is it because of Dahye?” He carefully wondered, taking your following silence as a yes. “We can skip pregame and then I’ll tell my friends to make up some excuse for her not to join us at noraebang”.
“Hyunjin,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t have to do that, just go have fun with them”.
“But I wanna be with you” he pouted once more.
“Hyunie…” it sounded like you were begging by now. “The movie’s about to end anyway”.
“And we were supposed to watch another once once it did” he reminded you, later allowing a taunting smirk to curve up his lips when a certain idea made it to his head. “Are you so set on making me leave right now because you’re afraid you might not want me to leave at all if I stay any longer?”
You snorted, playfully yet gently poking his forehead. “Someone’s gotten a little too cocky, don’t you think?”
“Am I wrong, though?” He pushed it. “Do you really want me to go?”
“Hm?”
“Do you want me to go?” He repeated.
“Your friends—”
“That’s not what I’m asking you” he cut you off. “You have this really bad habit of always avoiding my questions, you know?”
You found yourself lowering your head, feeling oh-so-little under his piercing stare.
Although Hyunjin loved seeing you nervous because of him and it was a very rare occurrence coming from you, right then, he wanted your eyes on him. So, placing two fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back to his eye level — both of you only realising how close you actually were when your eyes met.
“It’s a simple yes or no question” he specified, gently removing a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me to go?”
“No” you answered truthfully this time.
He smiled brightly.
“But—BUT,” you emphasized before he could celebrate, leaning slightly back and lifting your index finger for him to pay attention. “Like I said, I’m not letting you bail on your friends again, there will come a time they’ll get tired of it. You deserve to let loose and have some fun only with them”.
“But we were supposed to hang out today…”
“And we did?”
He frowned, clearly not happy with your answer.
“Come onnn,” you tried your best to convince him. “We’ll hang out again tomorrow anyway”.
“We will?” He perked up instantly, enough to make you feel shy all over again.
“I mean, if you want to, of course…” you corrected yourself. You had really become that used to seeing him both days every weekend now for it to be more of a given, huh?
“I believe it’s pretty clear by now that I always want to hang out with you”.
You tried to hold back a smile — needless to say, your efforts were miserable. “Okay then, we’ll see each other tomorrow”.
“Okay,” he smiled, satisfied with your new plans. “Let’s go out this time, since staying in is too boring for you now”.
“When did I ever say that?!”
“When you said that this,” he motioned around your place. “Wasn’t competition for a night out”.
“That is so not what I meant?” You argued.
“Still,” he laughed, eyes softening when they locked with yours. “I’m taking you out for lunch, okay?”
You smiled timidly, nodding your head. “Let’s see if you’re not too hungover first. Might have to end up taking care of you instead”.
“Now I might get blackout drunk just to have you taking care of me tomorrow”.
You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hide your amusement as you looked away. “Never mind, I will be sending either Yeji or your mum instead”.
“I’m joking, I’m joking” he laughed, looking for your eyes to lock with his again and gently grabbing your hands that were resting on your lap. “I’ll behave. Just let me take you out for lunch tomorrow, hm? Just us two”.
Staring down at your hands in his warm, soft ones, you couldn’t help but get invaded with more questions than answers.
It felt nice… being touched by him felt nice. Being close to him as a whole made you feel all warm inside. And he was right when he joked about you being scared you wouldn’t want him to leave at all if he stayed any longer, because truth was you already didn’t. You wanted him to stay, as close as you were minutes before.
Was it okay for you to be this close? Both physically and also emotionally? To the point of talking every single day and finding a way to see each other more than you saw your own best friends?
Did you enjoy his touch so much because it came from him? Or was it because you missed being touched?
Was he like this with everyone else? With Dahye? Anyone else at all? Did he treat you differently from them? Or was he just a flirty person and what you were now considering to be some kind of special treatment was just him acting the same as he did with every other girl?
Were you beginning to fall for him? Had you really been that oblivious to your own feelings? Or were you just looking too much into it now because of Chan’s influence, and mistaking a platonic —and rather strong— connection for something more?
Would Yeji be okay with it?
Too many questions were invading your mind, one right after the other, and you couldn’t find a single answer to any of them just yet.
However, although you didn’t know what you were feeling and were unsure about what demons were from your past and which ones were new, you did know one thing for sure: You were never as happy as when you were with him.
So, with a soft smile and a nod of your head, pushing any other thought for later tonight when you went to bed, you said the only thing you could answer to his request right then. “Okay”.
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Hello :) my birthday is on Friday and I had been looking for Ot8 x Reader birthday fics but people just don't write em and it's so upsetting 😭😭😭
I was wondering if you could do a story where the boys throw the reader a big birthday party but by the end of it, the party is long forgotten and it just turns into one big horny mess- also I wanna say I really like your work and I've sent in a few requests, I wanted to know if I could be 🦝anon if it's not already taken
❤️Ultimate Masterlist
💜Rules and Guidelines
💙Series Masterlist
🕯Summary: Birthdays are always a special day. Some celebrate with a wholesome heart, they celebrate with their wholesome head. Not the brain kind.
💛AN
Sorry for the belated birthday gift 🦝anon. I finished your request before the series and I thought a good ending piece. I hope you love it💛💛
🌹CW
Birthday Sex|Worship Kink|Edging|Masturbation|Frottage|Grinding|Multiple Orgasms|Voyeurism|Degrading Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Rough Sex|Dom! OT8|Photoshoot|Fishnet Ripping|Possessive|Panty Sniffer|Pussy Slapping|Squirting|Pussy Gape|Pervy! Reader|Instructions|Creampie|Hand Job|Messy Blow Job|Face Fucking|Cock Gagging|Puppy Kink|Throat Bulge|Cunnilingus|Overstimulation|Oral Fixation|Fingering|Daddy Kink|Omorashi|Ghost Face! Lee Minho|Edging|Breeding Kink|69|Cum Eating|Free Use|Teasing|Cum Dump|Very Sensitive Pussy|Sub Space|Deep Penetration|Vibrator|Double Penetration|Aftercare
💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.
🍄Wordcount: 4.9K
"You look stunning in that, darling," Jisung whistled, eyeing you up and down. You gulped, averting eye contact, "I don't know, it's a bit too short isn't it?" You mumbled, tugging down the hem of your skirt. Jisung smiled, "Isn't that the point, baby? You wore this for a reason didn't you?" he said, gesturing you over. You sulked, "I just wanted to look cute," you said, wrapping your arms around your waist. Jisung chuckled, "And you are. Come here," he said, pulling you onto his lap. "Such an adorable little girl. Think you're all grown up, huh?" Jisung whispered, patting your hair.
You frowned, "Shut up," you grumbled, hiding your face in your hands. Jisung chuckled, "Aww, why should I hm? Pretty little birthday girl like you should get pampered and worshipped, hm?" he said, kissing the back of your neck. You rolled your eyes, "Oh and how are you going to do that?" you asked, hiding your smile. "With a bit of help of course," Jisung said, nosing below your jaw. A shiver ran down your spine, "Ji," you sighed, pressing your thighs together.
He laughed, kissing your cheek, "Don't get too excited, baby. We still need to attend your birthday party," Jisung said, lifting you off his lap. You jutted your bottom lip, "This is cruel," you grumbled, readjusting your clothes. Jisung smirked, "If you think this is cruel. Just imagine what the boys would do seeing you in that," he said, gesturing to your fit. You bit back a smile, "I don't know what you mean," you said, walking ahead of Jisung. He laughed, "Says the princess who was afraid that it was too short," Jisung teased, wrapping and holding your waist.
You smirked, kissing his cheek, "Guess all I needed was a little reassurance," you said, ruffling his hair. "Anything for the birthday girl," he whispered, licking your ear lobe. You pushed open the door to the living room, panic running through your veins the moment you stepped through it. Some had blank stares, some had their jaws dropped, and some were happy to celebrate. Felix ran up to you, "Sunbeam, you look stunning," he said, kissing your nose.
You giggled, feeling the tension break, "Thanks, Lix," you whispered, squishing his face. He chuckled, "Come on, let Jinnie take your birthday shots," Felix said, dragging you along. You sat on the spinning stool, "Hyune," you said, pulling Hyunjin in for a hug. "Princess," he chuckled, tightening the hug. You pulled back, "Direct me however you want," you said, not knowing where to put your hands. Hyunjin smiled, "Of course, put your elbows on the table and rest your head on your hands," he instructed, positioning the camera.
You nodded, following each command. Hyunjin smirked, "That's it. You're doing so well," he praised, taking a few more shots. Some with you standing and some with you carefully holding the cake. "Bunny, be careful not to drop it!" Changbin warned, worried about how you tilted it for the shot. You nodded, instantly setting the cake down after Hyunjin said you could. Jeongin rearranged the cake back to its spot, "Hyung, it's cake-cutting time," he said, calling all the members to the table as he stood behind you.
"Here," Felix said, handing you a lighter. That's when you realised there weren't any candles. "What?" you whispered, confused for a second before your eyes lit up. "You didn't," you gasped, looking up at the fond looks looking back at you. "Go ahead," Felix said, gesturing to you to burn the 'Happy Birthday' wafer paper. You felt your cheeks ache from how hard you were smiling, "Wah," you said, watching the paper burn for a single pet name to be written underneath.
"Really?" you asked, shaking your head at the cheesiness. Bright and bold it wrote 'Little one' in black icing. You looked up at Chan and he only raised his hands in surrender. You giggled at the gesture, "You guys are ridiculous," you said, trying to hide your flustered cheeks. "Ridiculously in love with you," Changbin said, blowing you a kiss. You waved him off, only to be met with loud whines, "Say it back, bunny," he sulked. "I love you too," you mumbled, seeing Jeongin place an actual candle on the cake.
Changbin laughed, "See she loves me," he boasted, crossing his arms to flex his biceps. Jeongin cringed, lighting the candle, "Hyunjinnie hyung, don't forget the video," he said. Hyunjin gave him a thumbs up, "On it," he said, clicking the record. Soon the room was filled with random harmonies as they sang Happy Birthday, with random high notes and runs making you giggle. "Make a wish, kitten," Minho said, rubbing your back. You tilt your head up, surprised that he got behind you, "Okay," you whispered, making your wish.
You blew the candle, and the boys cheered, "Baksu!" Changbin exclaimed, clapping his hands. Seungmin whined, "We're going to get a noise complaint, hyung," he teased, covering his ears. You laughed, shakily holding the knife in your hand. Minho swiftly took it from you, "Let's not make this birthday party a trip to the ER, hm?" he said, cutting the cake. Your jaw dropped, wanting to retort but you knew it was best. Chan chuckled, hugging you from behind, "Happy birthday, baby girl," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
"Thank you, Channie," you whispered, leaning back into his hold. Chan cooed, having a good look at your outfit from this angle, "Don't you look absolutely delicious, little one?" he asked, seeing your thighs plush out against the stool. You gulped, straightening your posture, "Is it too much?" you mumbled, tilting your neck back to look up at him. Chan shook his head, staring at your bare neck, "No no, it looks perfect for us to play with," he chuckled, stroking your cheek.
A whine escaped your lips, head clouding from his voice. Chan smirked, easily lifting you off the stool, "Spin the wheel, baby girl. You know what to do," he said, handing you the board. Your names were written on it, this decides the order during birthday parties. You took a deep breath and spun the wheel. The boys eyed the spinning names, wondering who it would land on. Chan chuckled, "Lucky me," he said, seeing his name being picked. You gulped, seeing the pure lust pooling in his eyes.
Chan laid you on the couch, "Let's keep the skirt on but the fishnets have to go," he said, ripping the fabric off your legs. You shivered at the sound, breath picking up from the building arousal. He cooed, stroking your bare thighs, "Pretty little girl," he gruffed, digging his finger into your flesh. You whined, arching your back at the sting, "Chan," you pouted, staring at him between your legs. Chan smirked, pressing his tongue against his bottom lip, "What's wrong? Use your words," he teased, tilting his head back.
You bit back a smile, "Want to be filled, please Daddy," you teased back, knowing very well they would give you anything you wanted for your birthday. Chan's eyes widened for a second before he wrapped his hand around your throat, "Oh yeah? The birthday girl wants her cunt to be fucked loose with cum, huh?" he growled, adding pressure to the sides of your neck. You nodded, legs trembling from the pooling desire, "Please," you pleaded, racking your nails over his hand to show your desperation.
Chan clenched his jaw, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, "Don't whine tomorrow, remember that you begged for this, little one," he groaned, tugging down his pants. A mewl slipped past your mouth, you shifted Chan's thumb towards your lips and he instantly knew what you wanted. Chan panted, cock swelling beneath his boxers, "Fuck, you looked so good when you walked in earlier. Had to hold myself back from stripping you down myself, baby girl," he chuckled, lifting your legs on his hips.
You moaned, clenching around your drenched panties when an audible squelch could be heard. The room went silent, "Fuck," Jisung whined in disbelief. Chan felt his brain short circuit, "Clench again," he commanded, needing to hear that again. Your lips wobbled in embarrassment but you obeyed nevertheless. You whimpered, clenching your sloppy cunt and there it was again. A. Filthy. Squelch.
"Chris if you don't hurry up. I swear on my name, I'm going to lose it," Felix growled, palming his clothed bulge. "Not on my watch," Chan grunted, wincing when his throbbing cock slapped against his abdomen. You whined at the sight of his precum-dripping cock, "Need you so fucking bad," you sobbed, sexually frustrated with the teasing. Chan slapped your drenched cunt, instantly sending shocks of pleasure up your body, "Lift your hips," he instructed, tugging your panties off and tossing them to Hyunjin.
"Just what I needed," Hyunjin slurred, wrapping your panties around his pulsing cock. The warmth of your slick against his aching cock sent his mind hazy. Chan easily slipped two fingers in your needy hole, "So ready and wet for us," he said, adding another finger to his thrusts. You babbled, pleasure coating your body in a familiar comfort. Chan slicked his cock with your arousal and slapped your pretty little hooded clit with his dripping cockhead.
You hiccuped whenever the slit of his cockhead would envelop your clit. Chan leaned down, lining his cock with your fluttering cunt, "Happy fucking birthday, baby girl," he growled, pushing in one quick thrust. You whimpered from the stretch, gripping hard around his cock. Chan's knees buckled, groaning against your ear, "Fuck, fuck!" he gruffed, thrusting his hips as he worked your hole open. You ran your hands up your top, cupping your sensitive chest while Chan pumped his cock in and out of your hole.
"Dirty girl," he purred, picking up his pace to fuck your cunt out relentlessly. Whines echoed within the room, spurring the boys on. You looked up at Chan with half-lidded eyes, drool dripping down the sides of your lips as your tears welled up. "Take my cock, baby girl," he groaned, massaging your inner walls. Your body writhed, orgasm teetering on the edge, "Shi-shit, I'm cum-cumming," you stuttered, arching your back. Chan quickened his thrusts, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves, "Look at me as you cum, little one," he instructed, gripping your jaw.
You sobbed, staring directly into Chan's firm gaze when the coil in your abdomen snapped, "Hah, ah, fuck!" you gasped, biting down your bottom lip. Chan jerked his hips with a few more thrusts, "Take it, fuck," he sighed, pumping your cunt with his orgasm. You shuddered at the warmth, a dopey smile etched on your lips. Chan eased his cock out of your hole, "Good girl," he chuckled, stroking your messy cheek. You shuffled yourself up and spun the wheel again.
"Seungmin," you panted, catching your breath. He chuckled, cupping your cheek to give you a deep kiss. "Mmhm," you moaned, licking Seungmin's bottom lip. He smirked and nipped your tongue, "Naughty girl," he whispered, pulling away. "Yours," you said, raising your arms for him to slip off your top. Seungmin sighed, eyeing your body, the light sheen of sweat made his mind spin, "On your knees," he instructed, tugging down his boxers.
Drool pooled your mouth at the sight, Seungmin's slender and pretty cock curved against his happy trail made your cunt clench. "Use your hands, pretty," he said, patting your head. You wrapped your hands around his cock, stroking it languidly. He brushed your hair back, "Such a pretty birthday girl," he hummed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You kissed the tip of his cock, smearing precum all over your lips. Seungmin groaned, "Lick my cock, pretty. Get it drippy," he said, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail.
You mewled, "Mhmm," you hummed, licking up from the base. "That's it," Seungmin panted, keeping his eyes on you. Drool dripped down your chin as you flicked your tongue against his frenulum. Precum oozed past his slit, "Fuck, pretty," he grunted, tugging your hair. You moaned, swirling your tongue around his cockhead. A sudden slap to the cheek drew a loud whimper from you. "Impatient are we?" he asked, smirking when his plans worked.
"Huh?" you questioned, looking up with a confused gaze. Seungmin cooed, "Did I say you can suck on my cockhead like that?" he asked, loving the way your eyes widened in realisation. Your lips settled in a pout, stirring Seungmin's internal sadism. "Open wide, pup," he instructed, tapping his cock on your lips. You parted them, huffing warm air onto his cockhead. Seungmin smirked, "Don't forget to breathe," he said, sliding his cock down your throat in a single thrust.
You gagged around his cock, tears dripping down your eyes. Seungmin growled, using your hair as leverage to buck his hips. Your whines grow muffled around his cock. The weight of his shaft made your head spin. "Always love how fucking warm your mouth is, puppy," Seungmin gruffed, eyeing the bulge in your throat made by his girth. You moaned, hollowing your cheeks as much as you could. "Yes, yes, fucking hell," he grunted, fucking your tight mouth.
"Mmh," you keened, swallowing around Seungmin's cockhead. You shuddered, staring up at him with the need to milk every last drop of his orgasm. Seungmin felt his knees waver, shocks enveloping his body, "Fuck, fuck, hah!" he growled, holding your face to the base of his cock as he came. You swallowed as much as you could, thrashing slightly when you couldn't breathe. Seungmin noticed and pulled his hips back, easing his cock out of your mouth.
You huffed out a puff of warm air, cum coating your tongue and lips. Seungmin chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, "You did so good for me, puppy," he hummed, handing you the wheel to spin again. You gulped, leaning your head against Seungmin's thigh as you watched your breath. You weakly spun the wheel again, "Innie-ah, it's your turn," Seungmin said, reaching for a bottle of water for you to drink.
Jeongin stroked your hair, "Just lie down, angel," he said, helping you lay back. You pouted, "Innie, kiss," you rasped, making grabby hands towards him. He chuckled, placing a peck on your lips, "Precious," he whispered, pinching your cheek. You whined, glaring through your droopy eyes. Jeongin easily lined up his cock with your cunt, "Are you ready, angel?" he asked, teasing your gaping hole. You nodded, hooking your legs over Jeongin's shoulder, "Please, Jeongin," you pleaded.
"As you wish," he said, sinking his cock to the hilt. You arched your back as the air got knocked out of you. Jeongin gripped the back of your thighs and began thrusting at a frantic pace. You cried at the get-go, ears ringing from the shocks buzzing under your skin. Jeongin didn't hold back, fucking Chan's cum back into your cunt. Babbles spilt past your lips, mind barely comprehending anything else except Jeongin's cock hitting all the right places.
Changbin groaned, just as surprised about Jeongin's desperate bucks, "Holy shit," he whispered, pressing his thumb between Felix's slit. Felix hissed, "Fuck, they look hot," he grunted, clenching his jaw. Jeongin growled, using his hand to press the subtle bulge under your skin. Your eyes rolled back at the pressure, and a silent scream slacked your jaw. "Fuck you're clenching so fucking tight, angel," he grunted, pounding your sensitive hole.
You cried out, feeling your orgasm snap without a warning. Jeongin whimpered, buckling against your raised legs as his orgasm broke, "Ah, hah, ah," he gasped, kissing down your ankles to distract himself from the orgasmic clench. You lay there panting, eyes barely focusing on anything. Jeongin mewled, easing his cock from your cunt, "I think she killed my cock," he whined, getting his baring. The boys laughed at his declaration.
Seungmin held the wheel in front of you, "Go ahead and spin it, pretty," he said, feeding you a bite of cake. You licked your lips and spun the wheel. "Jinnie hyung," he read, looking at Hyunjin. "Let's take a quick break," Hyunjin said, wiping down your body. Seungmin nodded, feeding you a few snacks. You wiggled, pleased by the pampering. Chan wiped your matted hair, "Having fun, little one?" he asked, booping your nose. You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, scrunching your nose.
He chuckled, "Good," he said, kissing your forehead. Hyunjin rubbed your thighs, "All good for more?" he asked, trailing his hand down to your tummy. You nodded, spreading your legs apart. Hyunjin cooed, making himself comfortable between your thighs, "How could they neglect this pretty little clit?" he pouted, blowing softly against it. Your body twitched, heat building under your skin. Hyunjin smirked, darting his tongue to taste. He moaned, latching his plump lips around your pulsing clit.
You bucked your hips, overwhelmed by the sheer eye contact Hyunjin gave, "Hyune," you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, pulling off your clit to lick your urethra. "Fuck!" you cursed, arching your back off the couch. Hyunjin smirked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive hole. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the familiar pressure Hyunjin was trying to trigger. "Don't be afraid, love," he purred, pressing his face against your quivering cunt.
You whimpered, gripping Hyunjin's hair as you pissed, "Sorry, sorry, sorry," you sniffled, trembling. Hyunjin pulled away the moment he noticed you let go. He groaned, shivering when your warm piss landed on his crotch, "Fuck, love. You're perfect," he purred, palming his drenched boxers. You sniffled, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Hyunjin chuckled, letting his cock slap against your throbbing clit, "Messy little girl. Even on your birthday you're making a mess," he degraded, licking his lips.
"Meanie," you mumbled as your lips wobbled. He cooed, pumping his cock with his wrist, "Only to you, lovely," he growled, cumming onto your skirt. You glared at him, crossing your arms. Hyunjin found you adorable, "Aww, my sweet little love is all sulky," he said, pampering your face with kisses. You couldn't help but giggle at the kisses, "Stop," you whined, squirming. He laughed, "Aww but my little girl is mad at me," Hyunjin said, pampering more kisses.
You melted under the kisses, "Hyune," you sighed, nosing his cheek. He cooed, "Sweet little girl," he chuckled, kissing your forehead. Seungmin brushed your hair back, "Ready for another?" he asked, holding up the wheel. Chan clicked his tongue, "Before that, take a sip, little one," he said, tilting the bottle against your lips. You gulped down, not realising how parched you were. Seungmin chuckled, "Just four more, pretty," he said, seeing you spin the wheel.
"Minho hyung," Seungmin called out, looking over his shoulder. Felix groaned, hair matted against his forehead, "I don't know how long more I can edge myself," he grunted, gripping his thighs. Jisung smirked, "Should we suck off Channie hyung while we wait?" he prompted, grinning at the idea. Felix chuckled, taking Changbin's hand too, "Anything that can keep me from cumming," he said, ready to cause some mischief.
Chan's eyes widened when they pushed him back down on the couch, "Okay, okay. You hyenas'. Get on your knees," he chuckled, tugging down his boxers. Felix took the lead, licking a stripe up Chan's flaccid cock. Changbin positioned himself beneath, wrapping his lips around Chan's balls, sucking them into his mouth. "Good such boys," Chan rasped, used to being the group's soother. Jisung got on the couch, sinking his head to place kitten licks between Chan's slit.
You eyed the three of them, arousal spurring again from the sight. Minho chuckled, "Don't they look pretty, kitten," he asked, holding special something in his hand. You nodded, "Very," you said, turning your focus back to him. "Close your eyes, 'cause I got myself a little gift just for you," he purred, stroking your cheek. You did as told, heart pounding in your ears from the anticipation. Minho clenched his jaw, wearing the mask, "Open," he instructed, wrapping his hand around your throat.
"Holy shit," you gasped, eyes widening. Minho smirked, "Do I look spooky, kitty?" he cooed, grabbing your waist. You whimpered in response, head spinning just from the sight of the Ghostface mask adorning Minho's body. He tilted his head, "All you need to do, is scream for me," he said, flipping you on your stomach. You yelped, hands instantly clawing the fabric beneath. Minho chuckled, stripping off his belt to tie your wrists together, "You can say your safeword anytime, kitten," he whispered, patting your head.
You nodded, raising your hips just how he liked it. Minho hummed, hands groping and squeezing your plush ass, "Fucking mine to ruin," he grunted, pumping his cock with his wrist. You gulped, hearing a loud squelch coming from Minho's leaking cockhead. He huffed beneath the mask, riling himself up just to trigger his desperation. Minho clenched his jaw, "Breathe," he warned, sinking his cock past your fold with a single thrust. A broken scream crawled up your throat, drawing attention from all around the room.
Minho wasted no time ploughing your cunt, his left hand pressed firm on your lower back, "Work for it, kitten. Clench your fucking cunt," he groaned, rolling his hips precisely. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to focus on the feeling of your ribbed walls clenching around his girthy cock. Minho hissed, laughing maniacally at your cries, "That's it, kitten. Scream louder," he growled, thrusting his cock at a brutal pace.
Your body quivered, cunt squeezing hard enough that Minho felt his cock get pushed out. "You ain't escaping me, kitty," he chuckled, gripping the sides of your hips as leverage. "Ah, hah, hah! Fuck!" you screamed, arching your back when Minho forced his cock deeper. The tip of his cock pressed snuggled beside your cervix. Minho huffed, gritting his teeth, "Mhm, hah," he sighed, trailing down his hand to pinch your swollen clit.
"Hhgh," you whimpered, sobbing the moment your orgasm broke. Minho hissed, tightening his hold to make you milk his cum, "Take it, kitten. We need to make it stick," he growled, coating your inner walls with his orgasm. Your thighs trembled from the aftershocks, brain foggy from the high intensity buzzing through. Minho tugged off the mask, hair drenched with sweat dripping down his neck, "Fuck, that thing is hot," he gruffed, tossing it on the floor.
Chan's cock stood hard and throbbing, the three brats decided to edge him each time you screamed. Felix placed a kiss on Chan's saliva-coated cockhead, "Is she still coherent?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Minho rubbed your back, "Kitten?" he asked, easing his cock from your hole. You whimpered, lifting your head to plop it on a pillow, "I'm good," you slurred, eyes half-lidded. Hyunjin tapped your lips, "Suck," he instructed, letting you swallow down some fruit juice.
Jeongin held the wheel in front of you, "I'm sure the other hyungs' will be gentle," he said, giving them a side glance. You knew for a fact that's a lie but you spun the wheel anyway. "Bin hyung," Jeongin said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Changbin got up from his knees, cock hard and throbbing. "C'mere bunny, lay on my chest," he said, positioning your cunt in front of his face. You nuzzled his cock, breathing in the familiar musk. Changbin cooed, placing kisses on your inner thighs, "Messy little pussy," he teased, laying a firm smack on your ass.
You whined, grazing your teeth against the gland of his cockhead as retaliation. Changbin groaned, internally finding you adorable, "Okay, okay," he chuckled, licking the outer folds of your cunt. You moaned, mimicking his licks, "Binnie," you whispered, placing sloppy kisses around his shaft. He spat on your clit causing your hips to buck, "Our stunning bunny," he sighed, flicking his tongue against your abused clit. A shudder ran through your spine, "Fuck, hah," you keened, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.
Changbin growled and with a flat tongue he lapped your cunt clean. You moaned around his cock, the stretch hurting the edges of your lips the lower your sunk. Changbin closed his eyes, immersing himself in the scent of your pussy smearing on his face. A squeal vibrated his cock when you felt his tongue flex within your canal. Your eyes crossed, pleasure easily building from the around of orgasms they coaxed from your body so far. Changbin furrowed his eyebrows, focusing on bringing you to the edge.
You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in tight, your throat relaxing around his sensitive cockhead. Changbin growled, thrusting his tongue while his fingers rubbed and pinched your clit on the occasion. Moans grew in octaves as you got close to the edge. Changbin's thighs quivered, feeling the same pleasure. "Cum for Binnie, bun," he keened, trying his hardest not to buck his cock down your throat. Snot and drool coated Changbin's pelvis, you squeezed your eyes tight, ears buzzing from the appending high.
A muffled curse could be heard when you gushed all over Changbin's face, squirting both the remains of your orgasm and Minho's out of your canal. Changbin growled, marking the flesh of your ass when the clear warmth coated his skin, "Yeah, hah, hah," he panted, cumming down your throat. You choked around his shaft, nose burning when cum went up. Minho helped you pull off, "Precious little kitten is too tired to lift herself," he chuckled, making you blow your nose.
Jisung lifted you, "Lix and I came to an agreement to use you together, princess," he said, nuzzling your cheek. You laid pliant, eyes dazed and glossy. Felix cooed, stroking your cheek, "Don't worry your little brain, sunbeam. We'll take good care of you," he chuckled, pressing down his thumb on your bottom lip. You instinctively slacked your jaw. Felix smirked, spitting directly on your tongue. You gave a dopey smile, swallowing. Jisung groaned, losing his mind at how cute and sinful you look, "I can die tomorrow," he whispered, tossing his head back.
Felix chuckled, wrapping his hands around your waist, "Thanks to all the boyfriends for loosening your tight cunt, sunbeam. Melt into my chest, you don't have to do a thing," he purred, running his fingers through your hair. Jisung aligned Felix's cock with your hole, "It just gets sucked in," he whispered in awe. Felix groaned, the warmth of your cunt hugging his cock after waiting till the end almost made him bust, "Sung, if you don't hurry," he grunted, face evident with impatience.
Jisung chuckled, pressing his cock beside Felix's, "I know, princess. I know," he cooed, kissing away your stray tears. You sniffled, body aching from the sheer feeling of being stuffed. Felix kissed your cheek, his hands trembling from the tightness, "Happy Birthday, sunbeam," he growled, rocking his hips upwards. Jisung pressed his lips with yours, "Hmm, Happy Birthday," he whispered, licking into your mouth as he rutted his cock with deep thorough thrusts.
Felix marked down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. Jisung latched his lips around your neglected nipple, he moaned and sucked giving them the attention they deserved. You whined, thrashing your head weakly. Felix gruffed, sinking his teeth into your sweet spot when his hips stuttered. Jisung noticed and quickened his pace, helping to bring all three of you to an orgasm. Felix whimpered, toes curling from the pleasure, "Fuck me," he grunted, painting your cunt with cum.
Jisung bit down on his bottom lip, "Shit, shit, hah," he moaned, bucking a few more times before adding to the mess. Your lips drew into a pout, orgasm aching to burst. Jeongin stood next to Jisung, "I've got you, Angel," he said, pressing a bullet vibrator to your clit. You rasped out a whine, pussy squeezing around the two cock buried within. Jisung felt his knees buckle from the grip, "Fuck, holy fuck, fuck," he babbled, head spinning.
Felix sobbed, nosing your neck to ground himself from a dry orgasm. Your body shook as the final orgasm got drawn out of you, "Hah, hhgh," you sobbed, forcing their cocks out. Jisung sank to his knees, collecting himself. Felix laid back, limp from moving. Minho lifted you, rubbing your back when you started wailing, "Good girl. You're our good girl, hm?" he cooed, reassuring you. Changbin prepared your bath, leaving a few bath toys in it, "Hi, pretty bunny," he whispered, easing your sore body into the warm water.
You sniffled, reaching out to grab a familiar rubber ducky. Chan chuckled, sitting on the side to wash your hair, "Looks like you remember daddy's ducky, yeah?" he asked, rubbing the shampoo on your hair. You nodded, hugging it close, "Ducky," you whispered under your breath. Chan cooed, "Hold my shoulder, little one," he instructed, coaxing you to piss while he cleaned your puffy cunt. You whined at the sting, thighs sore with blooming hand marks.
Chan hummed, rinsing off the soap suds, "Daddy's got you," he whispered, drying you up and holding you close. You nuzzled his chest, "Sleep?" you asked, looking up. He nodded, "Yes baby, sleep," he said, rubbing ointment on your bruises. You melt into his touches, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Chan carried you down, "Look, baby," he whispered, showing you the scattered pillows and blankets over a row of mattresses. You smiled, hooking your chin over Chan's shoulder. Coos and chuckles, surrounded your body, "Did you enjoy today, bunny?" Changbin asked, plugging in a hairdryer. You nodded, "Best Birthday Ever," you slurred, drifting off the warmth of the hairdryer.
#secretmoonlight#˗ˋˏ°•𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴•°ˎˊ˗#˗ˋˏ°•𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘪 𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆#stray kids smut#kpop smut#stray kids x you#skz imagines#skz smut#stray kids bangchan#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x reader#seo changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han x you#lee felix x reader#kim seungmin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#bangchan smut#lee minho imagines#hwang hyunjin smut#han jisung smut#felix smut#kim seungmin smut#ot8 x reader#stray kids ot8#stray kids x female reader#kpop moodboard
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Comin’ back for more - L. HS
Pairing: heeseung & reader
Warnings: smut, protected and unprotected sex, oral, angst, alcohol, multiple orgasms, daddy kink ish, car sex, spitting, dirty talk, fluff, arguing, crying? jealously, cursing, hate sex.
Genre: 18+, exes with benefits, minors do not interact.
Synopsis: after you and your boyfriend of three years break up, it seems that even after you let each other go for good, there's one thing that keeps bringing you back together. With an unspoken arrangement to stay in contact only for the sexual aspect of your relationship, you both find yourself in an unexpected situation. Will that end what little of what was left of your relationship, or will it finally be the missing piece that brings you back together?
-
“Can I come over?” you text your ex-boyfriend, the same old text you’ve been sending for the last couple of months. It’s two in the morning, but you know he’s still up.
He’s always up.
You know this cause nearly every night, you’re at his place.
Why are you going to your ex's place at two in the morning, someone might wonder.
Well, it’s simple you’re just going there to fuck nothing more.
Even though you’re both exes, you’re still the best each other has ever had when it comes to the bedroom, and you didn’t have to think about going elsewhere to get it. Why would you when you could come to your ex, who is a very willing participant?
It started out with him saying he missed you five months after the break up. You both texted for a little bit, but ultimately, he went over to your place, saying it’d be better to talk in person. The talk was more argumentative than it was about finding a solution between one another. Voices rose, and tensions were high. He was yelling, you were yelling, and somehow, you both ended up just mere inches apart, and one thing led to another. Next thing you know, your lips touch, and he’s carrying you to the bedroom, both of you quickly stripping off your clothes and laying in bed together, and it was only minutes before he’s hovering over you, panting and giving you the pleasure that only he was capable of giving you.
After the mind-blowing hate sex, you both immediately set up an arrangement to keep in contact only for sex cause you and him could never be an item anymore.
There were far too many arguments and disagreements between you two, and neither of you could seem to get back on track without things only getting worse. The break up was mutual, very mutual, but that didn’t mean it was good for either of you.
You both grieved in your own ways without each other knowing.
But seeing him like this was the better way, no strings attached, but still being able to fuck without any rules or commitments.
“Waiting on you, baby,” he sends back a few minutes later, and that’s when you hop out of bed to take a shower and do your almost nightly routine to shamelessly get ready for your dick appointment.
You didn’t put on makeup cause it’d get smudge anyway, and there was no point in wearing a nice outfit because it would just end up crumpled on his floor while he gave you orgasm after orgasm.
After your shower, you got ready quickly and headed to his place, knowing the directions like the back of your hand. When you arrived, you went to his floor, sticking the key he gave you back when you two were dating into the key hole, twisting the knob, and once you opened the door, he was standing right there waiting for you as soon as you came in clad in nothing but his boxers. “Hi,” he smirks, taking a few steps closer to you.
Rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and drop your purse on the ground after shutting his door. “Enough with the small talk. Just take me to your bedroom.”
His brows raise in surprise. Despite hooking up with you like this for the past few months, he still isn’t used to how bold and direct you’ve become after the breakup. When you guys used to date, he initiated most of the time, and you were always a little shy to come on to him, but not now. You wasted no time getting straight to the point.
Now standing directly in front of you, he grabs your waist right hand, crawling up to your neck as you breathe heavily with anticipation. Bending down, he ghosts his lips over yours teasingly and nudges his nose against yours. “Hurry up,” you breathe out, not in the mood for his games tonight.
“Just shut up,” he whispers, closing the gap, his voice far softer than the rough, sensual kiss he gave you. Within an instant, his tongue was down your throat as he kissed you harshly. A few seconds later, his warm tongue began to play with yours while you took turns sucking and nibbling on each other's lips.
He pulled back to take a breath, both your guy’s eyelids hooded with arousal.
He bent down one arm behind the backs of your knees, the other on your lower back. He unexpectedly lifted you up, taking you straight to his bed where he planned on fucking you so damn good.
He lightly tossed you on the mattress. “Up,” he says once he’s stuck his fingers inside the hem of both your sleep shorts and panties.
Obeying his request, you lift your hips, allowing him to strip you of your bottoms. “Already so wet for me,” he teased. “Bet you were at home just thinking about my dick fucking into you. All those dirty thoughts got your little pussy nice and wet, huh baby?” He asks, climbing in the bed between your legs and rubbing your thighs softly.
“Hee jus-“
“Just admit it.” he knew the answer already. He just wanted to hear it come from your pretty lips.
“Yes, hee, you already know how much I need you.” he smiles, satisfied with your response as you writhe in bed, waiting impatiently for him to take you.
“Sit up for me, baby.” You sat up quickly upon his command.
“I’m not your baby anymore, so stop calling me that.” he doesn’t say anything about that and grips the hem of your shirt, lifting it above your head as you put your arms up, helping him rid you of your clothes.
He’s met with the sight of your perky tits that flop out of your shirt on full display for his eyes only.
Placing a hand on your left breast, he squeezes softly, getting the first little whimper out of you.
He pushed you back on the bed hovering over you and placing his mouth on your right tit, sucking your nipple into his warm mouth while kneading and pinching the other.
Your back arched at the feeling, your hands softly resting on his back while he suckled on each nipple. “Hee,” you whined, his name, eyes fluttering closed as you took in the feeling of him pleasuring your breasts and sensitive nipples.
Your hand slowly reaches up until you find his hair, running your fingers through it as he groans softly.
Spreading your legs open with his knees, he rises up from your chest, licking his lips before lowering himself on his bed. “Gonna let me tongue fuck your pussy baby?” He rubs your thighs, fingers smoothing over the soft flesh.
“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your head into his pillows as he watches a glob of wetness seep from your hole.
He dives in immediately, licking at your hole, slurping up your juices, and swirling it on his tongue, savoring the flavor before using the tip of his tongue to teasingly circle around your little hole.
“Hmm fuck” you squeezed your breasts while he licked your pussy, tugging and rolling your nipples between your fingers. The sight of you touching yourself while he tongued your pussy was making him get ridged in his boxers.
He slipped his tongue inside you, pumping in and out of your cunt deliciously before he pulled it out and slipped two long thick fingers inside your slick cunt. “You’re fucking soaking my fingers” he sucks on your clit and begins to curl his fingers moving them in and out of you, listening to your pussy squelching around his digits. “Hear that? So fucking wet,” he pushes in and out slowly, your slick sounds filling up the room, and you almost feel embarrassed by how wet you were for him.
“Hee,” you whined, and he chuckled softly, rubbing the pads of his fingers against your soft, silky walls.
“Taste so fucking good, mmhp baby,” he groans, rutting himself on the mattress impatiently. “I could eat you all fucking day.”
“Yes, hee, I’m so close don’t stop,” You breathe out, your chest heaving up and down as you clench around his fingers. You were just about to cum when he stopped entirely. “Why did y-“
“Turn around,” he quickly orders.
“I hate you,” you say frustratedly as your orgasm withers away, but the pulsing ache between your legs persuades you to turn around and get on all fours.
Read full story here
#heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#heeseung#lee heeseung#lee heeseung smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours
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Hiiiiii! I really love your work!!
Can i ask for number 20?
hello, love! thank you so much, and know that i see you interacting with my pieces and i truly appreciate it <3 also, at this point, i'm not even writing the prompts in order of the requests LOL so you get a fast pass, too! this bkg is always way too fun to write! i hope this one makes y'all smile.
(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)
warnings. minors dni, please!
20. "THIS IS SUCH A WASTE OF TIME." (0.9k)
“…so just like the last time, i want you to relax, okay?”
from where he’s laying on top of your pristine king-sized bed, a half-naked bakugou only glowers at you, arms folded behind his head in such a way that makes his biceps oh so bitable. he’s radiating that domineering aura that he always gives off in any context, only this time it’s a little…
misplaced.
you reach out to touch him, dressed in nothing but your intimates as well, ultimately placing your hand on his inner thigh. you feel him immediately tense at the contact.
caressing the skin with soothing circles in an attempt to calm him, you toss him a gentle smile. “just—let me make you feel good. alright, katsuki?”
“yeah, yeah,” he quips dismissively, rolling his eyes in nonchalance, comically juxtaposing the way his abdominal muscles and thighs are pulsing in what you’ve long identified as budding anticipation. “get on with it already.”
you bite back a laugh at his masked enthusiasm. the last thing you want is to make him feel embarrassed—you never want to make him feel bad, especially when you’re being intimate, and, well…
let’s just say you’ve been thinking about tonight ever since you broached the topic with him last week over dinner.
“katsuki…” you remember starting, nerves shot as you toyed with the leftover rice grains on your plate.
he looked up from where he sat across you on your dining table, eyebrows raised in question, wordlessly nudging you to go on.
“there’s something i’ve been wanting to try out,” you continued.
“…okay?”
“in bed.”
now, it’s not like you two are vanilla nor are you prudes—not that there’s anything wrong with that.
it’s just that the topic of sex makes you both flustered, and so talking about it is never an easy feat. but when curiosity and the burning need do get to either of you, you always make it a point to bring it up with the other.
the hand that was holding a glass of cold water froze mid-air at your statement, and you looked up at bakugou, whose gaze had averted from yours.
it probably took him a full minute or two to finally reply, not before clearing his throat like he always did when he felt awkward.
“what is it?”
“i want to top you,” you blurted out before you could think better against it. “…again.”
and when he didn’t say anything, you decided to just take the opportunity and press on.
“i know we never really talked about me topping again after that first time, but i figured that you liked it enough, based on how you—”
“—alright, alright,” he cut you off, a faint hue of pink high on his cheeks. “i get it.”
“so you’ll do it then?” you asked him then and there, excitement bleeding into your tone.
what felt like a few agonizing minutes passed before he finally nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. “not now, though. this friday, when i get off early.”
which brings you to now.
it’s bakugou’s voice, though, that actually brings you back to the present moment.
“are ya gonna get on with it or are you gonna keep on staring at me?”
you pull back and feel yourself flush at the call out, but will yourself to remain composed. you’re not about to let him steal your role for the night—you’ve fought hard enough to get to where you are right now.
“sorry,” you quickly retort, “before we start, though—”
he groans.
“—let’s go through the safe words first.”
“what am i, a fucking dumbass?” he sneers, traces of restlessness evident on his features that are extra pretty under the dim lights of your bedroom. “you don’t have to keep on repeating ‘em every time we fuck.”
“it’s important that we reiterate them,” you argue, “especially for tonight, since we’re trying something new.”
for the nth time, bakugou rolls his eyes but relents, giving you a curt nod.
“so every now and then, i’ll ask you what color you’re at. green is for when you’re all good to continue, yellow is when you want to take a pause, and red is when—”
“—i want to stop, i know.”
“no questions asked—i’ll stop the minute you say red. so don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”
“okay,” he tosses back so impatiently you’re now really struggling to keep a straight face. he shifts on his back and adjusts his boxer shorts, which, you observe are getting tighter by the second.
you haven’t even started, yet the mere thought of you topping him—however ambiguous that is—is turning him on.
bakugou must’ve noticed you looking and the slight upturn of the corner of your lips, because he shoots you a glare. “you done? god, this is such a waste of time.”
at that, you snort. “you’re not even gonna ask me what i’m gonna do?”
“how bad can it be?”
oh, dear.
the man is probably expecting you to just ride him.
you chance another look at your beautiful boyfriend, and a tidal wave of want washes over you so violently you almost stumble from where you’re seated at the bottom edge of the bed.
well.
it’s now or never, right?
and to hell with it if you can’t have him this way now.
taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for what you’re about to say next.
“…get on your knees, katsuki.”
his reply is almost instantaneous.
“what?”
to that, you shoot him the most innocent smile you can muster.
“‘cause i’m about to finger you.”
#PLSSSSSS#can someone write a continuation of this lmao#i can't write smut for the LIFE of me#mb i need to get experience first#KIDDDD#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#mha scenarios#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#bkg#2k milestone drabble
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Thinking a bit more about Megalopolis (see prev post). It's not really the case that the script is as disjointed or schizophrenic as my post makes it out to be. The central plot is pretty simple: an egotistical city planner has an ambitious and futuristic vision for redeveloping the city, and he butts heads with the Mayor and others who oppose him in this. He ultimately succeeds in building his utopian "megalopolis". Everyone is happy, the end.
And yet.
There's this... intense centrifugal force that prevents everything from cohering into a unified whole. It's like a puzzle where all the pieces are cut from the same picture, but upon closer inspection, no two pieces quite fit together. Or like that collection of nonsensical objects. A fork where the tines and the handle are connected by a chain. A watering can with the spout facing the wrong way. A quick glance leaves you confused, and that confusion is only deepened by further contemplation.
I think this is especially clear in the pseudo-intellectualism of the title cards, narration, monologues, and quotations/references:
Laurence Fishburne does this heavy-handed narration at the beginning and end of the movie (and several random points in between). And there are these associated title cards that look like they were made by applying an "Ancient Rome" theme to some PowerPoint slides. "Or will we too fall victim, like old Rome, to the insatiable appetite for power of a few men?" My brother in Christ, you are making a movie where the hero is named Cesar, and the happy ending is when he successfully pulls a Robert Moses. This is not a story about power corrupting or good intentions going awry. What are you doing???
Cesar Catilina interrupts Mayor Cicero's speech (where he is introducing a plan to build a casino) in order to lay out an early plan for "megalopolis", which is an ambitious and long-term alternative to the (short-term) casino plan. He prefaces his megalopolis pitch by reciting the Hamlet soliloquy. What exactly does Coppola think "To Be Or Not To Be" is about? He must thinks it means, "I am a dark and brooding bad-boy intellectual", since it's hard to see how "I'd like to kill myself, but I fear death" fits into an argument about the importance of long-term thinking in urban planning.
Cesar says several negative things about "civilization". "[Imagine] humanity as an old tree with one misguided branch called civilization... going nowhere." (Shot of notebook shows an illustration with 'war' and 'cruelty' offshoots from said branch.) "Emerson said the end of the human race will be that we'll eventually die of civilization." (Note: unsourced, probably fake quote.) "Civilization itself remains the great enemy of mankind." Umm... you're an urban planner! You're doing a high modernism. What exactly does it mean for you to call civilization the enemy? Is "megalopolis" somehow anti-civilization because it looks like a Georgia O'Keefe painting instead of a bunch of straight lines and right angles? Will the "war" and "cruelty" branches wither and die when buildings have labia?
Also, there's this amazing line read that completely inverts the meaning of a fake Marcus Aurelius quote (the quote was attributed to him by Tolstoy but is not actually something he said). "The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape... finding yourself in the ranks of the insane." Why did you put in that pause??? Fake Marcus Aurelius is turning in his grave! You're supposed to be fleeing FROM the ranks of the insane! I suppose this isn't really inconsistent with the characterization of Cesar, it's just such a fucking batshit thing to say.
All of the cargo-cult intellectualism listed above could perhaps be excused if the vision that the film is supposedly about had any content whatsoever. Or, alternatively, if the movie was about something more substantive, and the vacuous megalopolis vision took place off-screen in an epilogue, like the "happily ever after" of a children's story. But no! The movie repeatedly interrupts the plot to grab you by the shoulders and scream in your face: "I have a vision! For the future!". And then--now that it has your undivided attention--it shits the bed like a man who has just polished off an entire bag of sugar-free gummy bears and washed them down with a fistful of Ambien:
"Conversation isn't enough. It's the questions that lead it to the next step. But initially, you have to have a conversation. The city itself is immaterial, but they're talking about it for the first time. And it's not just about us talking about it. It's the need to talk about it. It's as urgent to us as air and water."
"Mr. Catalina, you said that as we jump into the future, we should do so unafraid. But what if when we do jump into the future, there is something to be afraid of?" "Well, there's nothing to be afraid of if you love, or have loved. It's an unstoppable force. It's unbreakable. It has no limits. It's within us. It's around us. And it's stretched throughout time. It's nothing you can touch. Yet it guides every decision that we make. But we do have the obligation to each other to ask questions of one another. What can we do? Is this society, is this way we're living, the only one that's available to us? And when we ask these questions, when there's a dialogue about them, that basically is a utopia."
After the revolution, we won't have conflicts anymore; we'll have dialogue instead. We won't have a need for the "jobs" and "sanitation" of "now"; we'll have the "imperishable" "dreams" of "forever". We won't have problems that need solving; we'll all be too busy asking each other questions. Now, if everyone could just shut up and get the hell out of the way and let Cesar implement his vision, then "everyone" will soon be "creating together, learning together, perfecting body and mind." A chorus of children's voices gradually morphing into Laurence Fishburne's, chanting, "One Earth, indivisible, with long life, education and justice for all." It's eschatological anti-politics made entirely from cotton candy. Please, for the love of God, stop making Adam Driver monologue at me! Let's get back to Aubrey Plaza stepping on horny fascist Shia LaBeouf!
The incoherence of Megalopolis's vision is compounded by how anachronistic its depiction of our fallen world is. There are some half-hearted (and ham-fisted) gestures in the Clodio sub-plot towards the dangers of Trumpian populism, but the script was first written in the 80's, and it's extremely obvious that Coppola is writing about New York City in the preceding several decades. The city's finances are in dire straights. (There's literally a "Ford Tells City: Drop Dead" reference!) The city is full of slums, the streets are full of crime, and the elites are all decadent. (For Coppola, decadence means that ladies are doing cocaine and smooching each other in the cluh-ub.) The main character is Neo-Roman Robert Moses, and the conflict of the film is about urban renewal. In case you, like Mr. Coppola, have not been made aware, slum clearance is not a major political issue in 2020's Manhattan.
Two thirds of the way through the movie, a falling Soviet satellite provides a deus ex machina, blowing up the financial district and clearing space for megalopolis to take its place. Ironically, a previous attempt to produce the film came to its abrupt end when two planes flew into some buildings in the financial district. Perhaps you heard about it. The financial backers of the film at the time considered Megalopolis's plot a bit too close to current events for comfort and withdrew their support.
But Coppola's depiction of Manhattan was already decades out of date by then. Moses stepped down in '60. Jacobs' book railing against urban renewal came out in '61. The Power Broker came out in '74. One presumes popular opinion of Robert Moses soured in the following years. The crisis of the city's finances that peaked in '75 was over by '81 when NYC balanced its budget and reentered the bond market. The crime wave of the 70's and 80's had receded by the year 2000. The demand for housing in NYC proper is as high as it ever has been, and it's only getting higher. Megalopolis imagines America as an incoherent mishmash of several decades of mid-century NYC, dressed up in the toga of the late Roman Republic, calling out for (Robert) Moses to part the slums and take us into a promised land that is literally beyond any description, and whose only concrete feature seems to be glowing people-movers.
A Robert Moses with the power to stop time, at that!
Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Cesar discovers he has the power to stop time in the opening scene of the film. I forgot because it's literally irrelevant to the plot. Time stops a few times, and then it starts back up again, and the events of the film just plod inexorably forward. For a movie as temporally dislocated as Metropolis, perhaps that's just as well.
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Paper Rings
Word count: 1.1k
Includes: tiny itty bit of angst to fluff, fluff, fluff, Spencer has been acting distant so you try to start up a conversation, ultimately leading to his confession about wanting to marry you but never finding the right moment
You were worried. More than usual worried, worried. Spencer had been acting odd lately, and for the past few weeks you had been trying your best to ignore it.
It was hard though, he had been distant, almost neglectful, his once cheerful and atentative attitude when listening to your day or the new book you'd been reading gone and replaced by a cool indifrence.
You were near to him now, sitting on the sunflower yellow sofa in your apartment, reading different books. But instead of being next to you he was on the other side of the couch.
In an attempt to start up a conversation you mentioned one of your fresher pieces of news,
"Hey Spence", He didn't even look up, just hummed.
You scooted closer, "Uh- I- Well you know my cousin? Marion, the one who got engaged a few months back?"
"yea" his eyes shifted up quickly and then right back down to his book.
"Well they finally set a date! I got my invite in the mail yesterday morning, it's in Hawaii!!"
"Oh, really?" he wasn't even glancing up now to seem interested.
Nevertheless, you tried one last time with enthusiasm, hoping he'd be kind enough to take pity and reciprocate even a fraction of it.
"So whadaya say handsome, be my plus one?"
"mhm." mhm. That's what your relationship had dwindled down to?
You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you got up from the sofa, trying really hard not to cry. But there was only so much you could take, was he seeing someone else? What had you done to make him so upset?
But that was the thing he wasn't even yelling at you! You'd become an irrelevant part of his life without even realizing it.
By this time you were grabbing your things in a scramble, trying to get out, get out of the apartmentget, get out of his life if thats what he really wanted. When it occurred to you that he was still obsorbed in that stupid book of his.
And you had to know, You just had to.
"Did I do something?! What-Just tell me what I did Spencer please!"
You were standing before him now, waving your arms around manically.
"Y-Y/n, whats wrong?"
"I don't know Spencer you tell me! I mean first I thought it was a case you were on that had put you off, or maybe that we'd been apart for too long but weeks went by! Its been weeks and you still won't even look me in the eye when we're talking!" You fail in your previous attempts to keep the tears at bay as droplets fall down your flushed cheeks.
He was stunned but eventually he found his words, "I-I- that wasn't my intention, I- just- I-"
You were hysterical at this point, he couldn't even tell you?
"Look Spencer. If you wanna break up, just say it already!"
You were one second away from storming out when he spoke up again, catching you by the wrist and leading you down the hall to the bedroom quickly.
"Look I'm really, really sorry Y/n its just that- well it'd be easier if I just showed you."
You came to sit on the bed, arms crossed over your chest as if armor protecting you from being hurt.
He was searching through the back of the closet you shared, finally pulling out a shoe box. He sat down next to you, opening the box, where rested an old sweater of his that had been worn thin and a black velvet box sitting within.
He handed the small compartment over to you explaining frantically,
"I've wanted to marry you for a long time now, hell Y/n I wanted to marry you since the moment I met you. But I kept chickening out and for the past few weeks I've taken you to our spots to pop the question but I-I- nothing was ever good enough...I couldn't find the perfect moment."
he looked straight in your eyes now, which were watery, overwhelmed by the idea he wanted to marry you just as much as you wanted to marry him. "You deserve the perfect moment. And not being able to provide that to you, it tore me apart, so...I became distant, praying I was good enough but also hoping you's find someone better..."
"I-I understand completely that this isn't the time or place but when I saw that you were crying- I just I needed you to know that the reason I was being so distant wasn't because I wanted to break up, far from it! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"
You opened the box now, silently falling in love even more as you gazed down at the your dream ring.
Finally lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you and kissing him deeply, finding your voice again as you pulled back grinning,
"You're an idiotic-genius, you know that?"
He only grinned back, "Yea, yea I'm fairly aware."
You slipped on the ring, it was perfect fit.
"Well...Are you gonna ask me?"
He shook his head, "You're gonna have to wait till i find our perfect moment."
You grumbled like a digruntled child, leaping back on the bed and guarding your ring finger as he tried to take it back. Ultimately he ended up on top of you, both of you play wrestling like children.
"Y/n. Give. It. Back."
"NO its my ring now! You can't take it back! You practically already proposed!"
"You said yourself, I technically haven't asked!"
"Well why don't I keep it for now, just until you're ready?" You were wearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him, he had pinned you down with his hands on your wrists.
"No way. What Would I propose with then?"
You craned your neck to kiss him then, albeit akwardly. "I'd marry you with paper rings Dr. Reid."
He had gotten admittedly lost in your sweet words, which you used as your opprutunity to slide out from under him, once more flashing you giant grin before running out of the room.
"Y/N!"
The afternoon was lost to him chasing you around the apartment as you chanted, "Paper rings dr. Reid! Paper rings!"
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid Criminal Minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fancfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#fluff#Smut#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#cm fandom#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fanfiction#dr reid#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#please please let these tags work tumblr im begging#junipers-archive
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plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,
clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)
y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.
y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.
during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.
the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.
y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.
whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.
since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.
it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.
unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.
the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.
capture the flag.
one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.
a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.
clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.
it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.
a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.
y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.
clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.
she could barely takes her eyes off her.
thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.
that would've been awkward....
when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.
strange... how things pan out....
when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.
as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.
"so, what's our game plan?"
her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.
it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.
during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.
clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.
"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.
clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.
"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.
but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.
y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"
clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.
the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.
clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.
as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.
clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.
she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.
clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.
"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.
y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.
all the air left clarisse's lungs.
with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.
neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.
this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.
unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.
clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.
for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.
the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.
once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.
y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.
y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.
"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.
clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.
#percy jackson#clarisse la rue#clarisse larue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse larue x reader#clarisse la rue imagine#clarisse larue imagine#x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x yn#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse larue x you#ares god of war#ares child#drabble#request#❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's requests ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's anons ༉‧₊˚
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Heyo! Love your recent post on the marquis de gramont. Could you do a one shot where the reader manages to escape yandere marquis and manages to hide in another country for a few months before the marquis confronts them in a motel they were hiding in
No Escape
Pairing: Yandere!Vincent De Gramont x Fem!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Imprisonment, Mentions of Codependency, Controlling Vincent, Panic Attack, Cursing, Arguing, Forced Kissing (At first), Happy Ending. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Word Count: 1.5k
It took you months to earn his trust, which he scarcely showcased to anyone. The months you pretended you were finally falling in love with him, with lovely words and tender affections that gradually lowered his guard with each passing day.
There were privileges that came with trust, which you soaked up like a sponge. He eventually permitted you to roam around the mansion without him or a bodyguard, which led to him permitting you to spend time outside within the gates. Finally, you were allowed to sleep in your room without someone monitoring your door during the night.
However, you ultimately reached a breaking point when you recognized one day that those affectionate words and acts had transformed into something more…sincere. You'd lay awake in your room, your mind racing at the prospect of succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome.
Your altered phone, gifted by Vincent, lay in pieces on the bedroom floor when you made your escape. You crept out under the beauty of the moonlight, and your efforts during the day allowed you to memorize Vincent's men's routine patrols. You wore only the clothing on your back and a little satchel containing your monthly allowance, which Vincent would give you as a reward for your good behavior. The hardest thing was climbing over the fence, but you made it out with only minor cuts. Despite the joy of finally experiencing independence, you couldn't shake the sadness in your heart. You couldn't help but think you were doing something wrong.
'It isn't love; it isn't love.' Throughout your entire voyage to Canada, you would repeat those words in your head like a broken record. When the landlord handed you the keys to your flat, you couldn't help but feel awful. When you received your new cell phone a week later, you resisted the urge to call him.
You missed him terribly and despised yourself for it.
A month has gone by, and you weren't any better off than you were a few weeks before. You did, however, have a job interview coming up in the next month, and you were pleased that you were making progress toward regaining independence. You even purchased a new cell phone for amusement purposes.
Vincent had certain expectations for you as his lover while you were imprisoned. He wanted you to be entirely reliant on him, letting him make decisions for you and requiring his permission to do everything or walk outdoors. He promised to take care of you, to make you want for nothing, and to give you the wedding of your dreams. However, beneath the surface, you became less and less of yourself.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you couldn't help but wonder if you would have been happier at ho-Vincent's mansion. Your eyes threatened to shed tears as you glanced at the screen of your phone.
Vincent's number was illuminated in the darkness of your room, casting a chilling glow across your face. The call button begged you to merely press it in order to make amends.
You tapped the button and placed the phone to your ear with a nervous exhale. As the phone continued to ring, your eyes were wide and stared into space. As you waited for him to pick up, your heart was racing in your chest, and you nervously chewed your nail.
'He'll be mad...'
The thought occurred to you, and you immediately regretted making the phone call. You were aware that Vincent had a temper, and while he never took it out on you, you weren't immune to his stern lectures when you got in trouble, or how he destroyed his possessions in front of you. Even his patience with you can waver, and you weren't planning on finding out.
When the person on the other end of the line picked up the phone, you hurriedly hung up, unable to handle the sound of his voice. You tried taking a few deep breaths, but your heart refused to stop pounding rapidly as you stared down at the phone.
Within the first five seconds, your phone rang, and you felt your heart was about to stop. When Vincent's number came across your screen again, you screamed and threw the cellphone against the wall. Your phone was scattered in pieces on the carpet, similar to the altered phone you left at the mansion. You prayed to whatever higher power that the call wasn't long enough for Vincent to track it down.
"Fuck!" You exclaimed, rising from your bed and walking about your room, your hands grasping the sides of your head, attempting to stabilize yourself. "Fuck, fuck!"
You couldn't sleep that night.
You were strolling to your apartment, finally entering the elevator with a spring in your step. A month had gone by with no occurrences, and your concern was fading, with your confidence progressively taking its place.
The job interview went well, and you were hired at the local supermarket in the little town where you resided. It was extremely discreet, and you preferred it that way. Anything too extravagant would have drawn Vincent's attention, which was the last thing you needed.
When the doors reopened, you proceeded to head towards your apartment door, fishing out your keys from your satchel. Sorting through your keys, you unlocked the door and walked into the dark apartment, shutting the door behind you. You walked over to the wall, flicking on the lights.
The next thing you heard caused a chill to run down your spine.
"Did you enjoy your interview, chérie?" A familiar voice spoke, prompting you to press your back against the wall in panic.
Vincent stood in front of the window, his back to you, watching the beauty beyond the glass. His hands were in his pants pockets, and his posture was rigid.
"V-Vincent I-" You stuttered but came to a pause when Vincent turned to face you.
His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his big lips formed a stiff line. He was clearly furious with you, but he tried to remain calm.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" He demanded, taking a few steps closer to you. His stature was imposing, towering well over six feet tall, and you hoped he'd keep his distance.
You could only stay silent; your eyes were locked on him.
"Do you?" He asked once more, his tone becoming darker.
"I-I'm sorry, Vincent, I just-" Your mind was blank, unable to generate a suitable explanation. Your heart was attempting to burst from your chest, and your breathing was growing shaky.
How can you explain your mixed feelings to your kidnapper?
Vincent's patience was clearly wearing thin as he strode towards you, seizing your upper arms and dragging you close. He disregarded your terrified yelps as you struggled to keep your distance. However, because you were close to the wall, Vincent quickly trapped you against it. Your faces were barely a few inches apart, and you struggled to keep the warmth from flowing into your cheeks.
"How could you do something like this? I thought we were happy together and that you finally accepted our love! Why would you run away and scare me to death?!" He yelled, shaking your body somewhat as he spoke. "Do you understand what you put me through?!"
Suddenly, there was a fire that was ignited in your heart that you'd never felt before. All those months poured through you and you didn't think before you opened your mouth.
"What I put you through, what about me?! You kidnapped me and kept me inside your stupid mansion like I was some doll to do your bidding! How dare you stand there and act like you didn't hurt me first!"
Before he could reply, you continued, "But, I fucking love you! Even after everything, I still fell for you, and I hate myself for it! So, I ran! I ran away from you-"
You were cut short as Vincent yanked you into a kiss, his body crushing you against the wall. As you struggled, his arm curled around your waist, and the other gripped your hair to prevent you from pulling away.
However, the longer the kiss persisted, the less you struggled and ultimately succumbed to your predicament. He's kissed you several times before in the past, but this kiss was different. It was the first kiss where you two were finally on the same page.
You returned his kiss, your arms wrapping around his waist. He growled slightly into the kiss, drawing away slightly and planting a gentle kiss on your brow. You leaned against his chest, tears welling up in your eyes as you understood what had transpired.
Vincent brought his lips to your ear, his fingers twirling in your hair as he murmured darkly, "You will never do this again, do you hear me?"
His words sent shivers down your spine, full of ownership, and you knew your independence was gone. You softly agreed, allowing him to bring you closer to him in an embrace that was everything but sweet.
"You'll never escape me; I'll always find you." He murmured again, planting a firm kiss against your temple. "Always, chérie."
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I'm rereading Harry Potter and it's baffling how people just... pretend Snape was a completely different person than who he actually was?
Granted, Alan Rickman's Snape and Book Snape are two genuinely different people, to the point that I think Movie Snape would be mildly disgusted by Book Snape. Movie Snape came off more as someone who was angry and spiteful to a select few for reasons that ranged from Understandable to Irrationally Petty, but generally very grim and stern, with a good heart beneath it all. Book Snape is a piece of shit.
Movie Snape doesn't have the same cruelty as Book Snape: his targeting of anyone other than Harry is framed in a more slapstick way and his teaching isn't neary as abusive. Neville being terrified of him doesn't have the same implicit showcasing of Snape being abusive but rather Snape being stern and unforgiving while Neville is meek and needs positive reinforcement to flourish.
Movie Snape is stoic, deadpan. I saw a clip of Rickman on YouTube and either he, a commenter, or both noted that a touchstone of Rickman's performance for Snape was that he didn't raise his voice. Not so in the books, where Snape's described several times loosing his temper and screaming, even shrieking. Snape is terrifyingly volatile in the books, in contrast to the movies where even at his most furious, most emotional, he remains in control of himself.
Book Snape is, unambiguously, just a bad person. Not just a bad teacher, a bad PERSON. He is a small, bitter, petty bully who shouldn't be anywhere near children, and honestly Dumbledore letting him near children is probably more of an indictment of Dumbledore's character than the fact that he used to be a wizard supremacist.
And to be clear, while teenage Snape isn't AS bad as adult Snape by virtue of being a teenager... he was also just Not Good. He ran around with Wizard Nazis. Lily called him out on that, on the fact that he was clearly ready and rearing to join Voldemort, that he used Dark Magic on other students alongside his death eater buddies, etc.
James and Co were little shits who teased and picked on students. But Remus and Sirius made a point that Snape and James had a uniquely, mutually hostile relationship. Remus and Sirius state directly that ultimately, one of the primary reasons James targeted Snape was because Snape was "up to his eyeballs in the Dark Arts and James hated the Dark Arts".
I've seen people use the fact that James never apologized to Snape as an indictment of James' character but like... when and why would he have apologized?
Genuinely, I think if Snape had made a good faith effort to be a better person BEFORE the death of the Potters, James may have apologized. But Snape at the time of James' death was a literal wizard nazi and honestly? I can't see him feeling terribly bad about bullying him, or at least not feeling obliged to apologize. And even if he had, how would he have done so? Send an owl to wizard nazi HQ?
But I think the thing that made me bristle the most about the books was the gaslighting that happened in book 6.
Remus is... going through it in that book, fair enough, but when Harry is talking to him about his suspicious, he gently accuses Harry of "inheriting James' and Sirius' prejudice" and being "determined to hate [Snape]". Like.... I'm sorry, but did Remus get hit in the head? Are we supposed to just casually forget EVERYTHING SNAPE HAS SAID AND DONE TO HARRY IN THE LAST FIVE BOOKS?!
If anyone came into it with an inherited prejudice and a determination to hate, it was Snape.
Justice for Book 6 Harry, everyone's treating him like he's bonkers but he's right.
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Golden
Hello and welcome to Verboten (BFF!Dadrry) part 10!
I hope you enjoy this fluffy smutty piece because the next few will be... interesting ;)
Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings.
Verboten Masterlist
WC- 2.5k
Warnings- mentions of anxiety, smut, breeding kink, age gap, daddy kink
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Y/N did not want to leave Italy.
She had fallen in love with the people, the food, the weather, the culture- and Harry.
That was pretty clear at this point.
His hand held her thigh under the table as they dined outside under the covered balcony, the sea air ruffling the hair that had escaped her pearly claw clip. They only had 2 days left and while she had been trying to focus on the time they had left, it was only more daunting to realize they had to come home and deal with their relationship. Telling the people who needed to know.
Lia.
Y/N had felt an awful pit in her stomach as she answered Lia’s messages every so often, thankfully her best friend being distracted by her own girlfriend to worry too much about texting her best friend. For once, she was relieved for the lack of bros over hoes.
She was galavanting across the Italian coast with her best friend’s father. Sucking him off on the yacht he had chartered, clinging to his body in the salty water, letting him kiss away tears from laughing too hard and one too many drinks. His hands had almost constantly been on her and she had welcomed, no, encouraged each and every bit of it.
Her teeth marked Harry’s golden skin, the Italian summer sun having left its mark on him in a delicious way that had Y/N almost feral. Her nails, that he had paid for being redone just a few days ago, leaving scratch marks on his back and also soothing him to sleep on a rocking boat yesterday while he had rested his head in her lap as she read.
They weren’t just having sex. They were in love. This was a relationship, something that would be seen as the ultimate betrayal. But Y/N wasn’t going to give it up.
Her whole life, she had been the one to give things up for people. She always tried to take care of everyone around her, her family, her friends, even strangers. She’d been the constant shoulder to cry one and the one ready to brave the world and her own fears for other people. So when Harry gave her a little taste of how good it felt to be taken care of, she fell in love with it. Albeit guiltily, she was letting him do the things he wanted for her- and she’d never seen him shine like this.
Harry had always liked taking care of people, but he was far more selective. He had a big heart, yes, but it had stayed particularly guarded. With the money he had, the people he’d met, it had been an early lesson for him to know that yes, he could help but he had to cherry pick the people who would be actually deserving. Y/N clicked all those boxes. She provided him with a level of comfort, pleasure and affection that he’d always dreamt of. She allowed him to spoil her more and more each day, but he was eager to do more. As many times as he could admit his adoration for her, he wanted her dripping with diamonds and the things she wanted to wear, never to worry about a thing again. She’d worked hard in her life and god damn it, she fucking deserved it. She said thank you, smothering him with kisses with every surprise he had given her, every little fucking thing, and it made him feel so good it was ridiculous. From a cute pen he’d seen in a market stall to the yacht surprise, each little thing garnered a excited, sweet reaction from her. So he wanted to do more.
“I know that we only have our two days left…” He stroked over her thigh, pads of his fingertips tracing the bend of her knee and back up. “But we’re going to come back. I promise. I’ve got the house here and I can work remote…” His face was soft, understanding that she didn’t want to go back home. It was such a welcome relief being here, so needed and refreshing that all it could possibly do is strengthen their foundation.
“I know.” She replied, placing her silverware down before taking a sip of her drink. “It’s just… I know that it’s probably going to be ugly for a while back home. Just as a general rule. I don’t want to hide at all, I’m not ashamed of being with you but I know there’s going to be a lot of blowback.” Y/N tried to explain it without it seemingly like she was backing out of their relationship. That wasn’t the case at all. “I know I’m going to lose some friends over this. And maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I shouldn’t have made a move on you, but it felt right. I needed to do it, and I don’t regret it at all. It’s necessary growth for us, and I can understand that but I just feel… anxious, I guess. To see who chooses to stay and who chooses to go.”
That was something Harry hadn’t really thought about, and as awful as he felt about it- he was more relieved that she said she didn’t regret it. Of course he didn’t want any blowback at all. “It’s tough, isn’t it my love?” He sighed sadly, gently grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. His lips pressed against her knuckles, the subtle sound of them disconnecting making her smile. “I know. It’s a risk, and I’m going to upset my daughter but you know… I want to be happy. I deserve love, and so do you. You’re of age, we’ve discussed a lot, it isn’t like we’re throwing this in anyone’s face to upset them. If our happiness matters so little to everyone ese, perhaps it wasn’t a good fit for them regardless.”
The only person’s reaction either of them really cared about was Lia’s. Harry was prepared to catch the brunt of her explosive temper. He was a grown man and he had been divorced for a bit. He understood that his choice in romantic partner was going to upset her, and he didn’t blame her. Neither of them could, because they both were rational and knew that it was a fucked up situation. He just hoped that they could work through it. He’d tried to pick Y/N’s brain about it but she seemed to understand her fate in this.
Lia wasn’t going to forgive easily, nor would their friendship ever be the same, but she was hoping that with time, they could mend what was inevitably about to be smashed up. Make a mosaic out of the pieces that were bound to shatter. Harry meant so much to her already and she couldn’t give up the chance of having a lifetime sort of love. Her romantic heart couldn’t handle it.
“You know…” Her lips tilted up. “I have always been a romantic. I always wanted love but I pretended I didn’t. I thought… maybe it would help me avoid being hurt. I’ve been afraid of having my heart broken for so long, I never was able to properly hand my heart over to anyone. They could maybe touch it, but it was under lockdown. It was really weird when…” She licked the wine from her lip, looking at his slight sunburned nose as she found her words. “It was really weird for me when I found myself wanting to hand it over to you. Like I knew you’d keep it safe. I’m still adjusting, I’m still learning but I feel so safe with you, it’s hard not to just give in.”
That was music to his ears. His smile was brighter than the sun when she finished, his hand placing hers on his cheek as he pressed tiny kisses to her inner wrist. It was hard not to pull her into his lap, but he had to keep some decorum in this situation. His girl felt safe enough to hand him her heart, and that boost it gave him almost sent his own beating chest to the moon. “It’s safe with me. Always. I won’t let anything happen to it, not from my end.” He couldn’t promise nothing else in life wouldn't hurt her- but he would be damned if he didn't try.
—--
“Go ahead, baby. You can have what you want.” His hot palms held the backside of her thighs as she lifted the sundress over her body, breasts spilling out as it was tossed onto floor. Harry’s cock was thick in his palm, wet from her saliva as she had gotten on her knees for him as soon as they’d entered the living room of the villa. Sucking with fervor, the younger girl had gotten him slick with her spit before he pulled her up to let her climb into his lap.
“I want you.” Y/N whispered, hand going between them to angle his cock against her properly. Harry’s groan was motivation as she slipped down, only taking a bit at a time as she shakily exhaled her whine. “I want you to take me, and keep me. I want to be your girl, Daddy. Please.” Her hands held his shoulders, keeping steady as her cunt sunk down on his length. “Want t’be your girl and I want you to come home from work and love on me, want you to text me to be naked in your room for you, want to make you dinner- I just want to make you happy.”
Harry was nearly speechless as her whiny demands, her true heart showing as she squeezed his shoulders and finally got seated fully on his cock. “Y-yeah? S’what my girl really wants?” It was like the world had answered his prayers. He was buried inside of her hot cunt, her mouth saying all the words he’s been itching to hear for a long while now. “Want to give that t’you. Should just live with me, hm?” He cooed. “Move right into my bed so you’re always there for me, and m’always there for you. I belong to you just as much.” His head rested against the couch, gently helping her lift up and slide back down slowly on his cock. Finding her pace, he wasn’t going to complain.
“I-Should I?” She asked, eyes wide and hazy as she sunk fully back down, full to the brim with his cock in her tummy. “You’d want that?” It wasn’t probably the place to have this discussion but hey- he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. The idea of her going home to her place when his own place was empty sans himself, when she made it feel like a real home? He wanted her there. Possessive, needy, perhaps he was, but he really did want her there. It was moving quickly but it felt like maybe he needed it. No more waiting.
“Mhm. You’re with me a lot but… Stay with me all the time, baby. Want my girl around, want to live with you.. Never want t’see you leave.” His lips connected with hers as she began to grind slowly on his cock, his hands sliding up to cup each side of her ass. Her kiss back was just as messy as her cunt, the feeling of being full making it hard to focus on anything but how good she felt and the feelings swarming her at the idea of moving in. “Move all your things in… Let daddy buy you more pretty things for your closet. Let me clean it out… let Daddy take care of you, find you a job you really like.” Harry knew he was pathetically whipped for this woman, but he had no intention of hiding that from her. Y/N deserved to know how loved she was.
“Y-Yeah, please. I want to be with you all the time.” Her nails dug into his skin a little as she bounced a few times on his prick, making them both moan. “Just want to be your girl, Daddy. Want to be yours in every way, want to smell like you, sleep in your bed, I want to- I want you.” Her confirmation was everything to him, sitting him up as he beamed. His strength was used as an advantage, turning them over so she was laid on the couch and he could look down at her.
“Good. You are- you’re Daddy’s perfect fucking girl, and m’gonna spoil you rotten.” He spread her legs open, looking at the mess where they connected. Her poor cunt was still swollen from this morning but she took it like a camp, shuddering when his thumb brushed her clit. “God, handing yourself over to me… Love it so much. M’gonna take such good care of you, baby.” His promise was true. Her hand clutched over her breast, nodding up at him as her body tightened up slightly. The stimulation and new angle made it hard for her to breathe in the best of ways.
His thrusts were deep and full of promise. Groaning through his teeth as he watched her underneath him, watching her face twist with pleasure and her stomach jump with his thrusts, he knew he didn’t ever want to see a body other than hers under him again. “S’my perfect girl. Going to wake up to you every day and see that perfect face, make you just as addicted to me as I am to you and this perfect body. You’ve ruined me.” Y/N had made him a man on his knees, weak for a woman when he swore he wouldn’t again. Only this time, it was worse, and he didn’t fucking care. He’d give it all up for her. “M’keeping you. Y’know that, baby? You belong to me, and m’gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…” one of hus hands fell down to her stomach. “Remember what we talked about? Hm? What did you want daddy to give you- What did you beg for?”
Y/N got even more wet, mewling at the pressure on her stomach as she remembered exactly what it was. “A baby- I want you to give me a baby, Daddy.” She whimpered. “Y-You said, you said you’d get me pregnant and I want it. I want it, I want you to breed me and keep me full and- oh, fuck.” Y/N’s begging was cut off with his deep thrusts gaining speed. He’d lifted her just a bit, abandoning her clit to pull her lower body up just a bit with his hands. Her eyes watered, feeling his cock punch right against the spot she had desperately needed with the adjustment, hands flailing to grab on to the couch as she got fucked.
Harry liked the sound of that. Far too much.
“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you the pretty house, pretty ring, pretty babies in you… You’re driving me mad. God, I fucking love you. Stay with me, forever.” His face was beaded with sweat as he fucked into her deep, imagining those very things. She agreed to the house, moving in with him. He was sure that would be the direction they were going in. He wouldn’t let her go.
Regardless of how much it could cost him.
#verboten#bff dad#bff dadrry#best friend’s dad Harry#harry styles age gap#best friends dad harry styles#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles breeding#harry styles fic#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfics#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles au
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Chapter 1- breaking the media
You knew that clubs would be interested in you but definitely not this one. You were 16 and playing for arsenal after transferring there when you were 13. You started your career off at sunderland your home club with the aspirations to be like the many legends from sunderland including beth mead, lucy bronze, Jordan nobbs there were plenty to idolise so when arsenal had offered you a place on the u16s at 13 you couldn't resist. Your parents had very little care for the fact such a large club was interested with you and had no intention to move from the north east to london so therefore sent you to a foster home for your time at arsenal. The people who you had lived with were amazing and at some points you believed they were better than your own biological parents who gave no interest in your career and no care for you in general.
Your time at arsenal was amazing you were flying through the age groups and here you landed on the first team of arsenal. Now maybe this was due to the plenty of injuries of the backline and of laura the right back which just so happened to be where you played on the pitch that lead you to your debut but you were estatic to say the least. You only played half the game but didn't mean that you couldn't leave your mark on the pitch you had executed the perfect slide tackle on lauren hemp swiftly removing the ball from her feet as she edged nearer to the box.
That tackle had left jonas an impression and many other teams beyond the wsl. You began to make more frequent appearances on the team but only as a sub but still each time you stepped on the pitch the media was all over you the next star girl who was gonna be the big thing. All the titles and names should have put pressure on you to do better yet it never did infact it was motivation to carry on. Summer had arrived the end of the season meant big transfers arsenal had missed out on winning the title race yet you were the most popular conversation topic of where will you move next or if you would stay at arsenal. Now the conversation was relentless everysingle club had wanted a piece of you and for good money from what you had heard but it was ultimately your decision and a little bit of arsenals choice after they had turned down bids from Manchester city and Chelsea early in the transfer window.
Of course you wanted to stay at arsenal, you thrived there your idols were there you grew up admiring leah williamson, beth mead and vivianne miedema, you had a few offers on the table that your agent had given to you yet none of them beat arsenal or had come close to the same pay check but that wasn't the reason you were staying it was more of the bragging rights to say you were friends them even though you were like the adopted child of arsenal many complained that your presence was aging them but it was only for jokes they loved you really. Then the call came at 11.40pm just as you were about to crawl in bed after a long day of pre season grind as unlike the other girls you couldn't go on holiday and get drunk on a beach you were 16 you couldn't even legally drink but that didnt stop you. You were exhausted as sleep weighed on your eyelids then the phone rang.
"Barcelona are interested in you" your agent said to you. "WHAT, YOU'RE JOKING" you shouted almost waking up everyone in your house. "Yes but if you want to go you need to have an answer by tomorrow, the contract is a multi year so it will be constantly updated each year..." your agent began to ramble on about the terms of the contract "yes" you splutter out interrupting his long speech "yes what?" He asked back almost fed up of your frantic behaviour "yes, i want to go its the only club i would leave arsenal for and im not gonna get another chance like this" you said firmly there was no hesitation behind your words "right then we will final up the deal with arsenal and Barcelona and we will figure out an appropriate wage" he said almost scoffing at that last comment and going back to his professional terms (ramble) which meant nothing to you.
Once he hung up the phone you lay in bed in the darkness when reality hit you "omg im going to play at Barcelona" you said to yourself "OMG IM GOING TO PLAY AT BARCELONA" you repeated to yourself this time shouting almost squealing in fact. You couldn't believe it was happening, and you drifted off waiting for the deal to finalise it. It was going to be a long process of negotiation, but it was on you were willing to wait out for .Soon the red and white iconic kit would change to a blue and purple equally as iconic kit and you had a chance to write a legacy one which you knew would catch the medias attention, maybe even break it.
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