#i swear i had a talking tag but i cannot remember it
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gearsphere · 10 months ago
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oh damn got tagged
and for once i have answers in mind, ty @jesuscrab
Last song- "Glass Eye" by Elephant Den, saw these guys twice live and theyre so cool, their stuff is INCREDIBLE live but their album the comedown is still great
Last film- i think cobweb?? my friend specterpants recommended it and MAN was that fun to watch with a friend, one segment had me curling my toes and very nearly covering my eyes which just has not happened in like 8 years, just a great little horror movie
Currently reading- i think ive got a LOT of books going on rn but the ones i can think of are hogfather (been a trdition now to try and read through it before christmas but i always get so busy and distracted...), just started catch-22 (after kinda hating it as a young teen i wanna give it another go), Underbug: An Obsessive Tale of Termites and Technology by Lisa Margonelli (which was a FANTASTIC book on termites behavior and biology and also technology and the ways in which its developed, i was only halfway through when my loan was up so im excited to get back to it), and Making History: The Struggle for Gay and Lesbian Equal Rights, 1945-1990: An Oral History (i always love to hear about queer people of years past, sorta puts stuff into perspective yaknow? i really need to finish that one)
Currently watching- dr who! im watching it for the first time in probably oh 7 years ish? i dropped off midway through the 12th doctors run and its been lovely going back through the early stuff, ive also been working through succession and adventure time when i have the urge.
Current obsession- chillin.... WAIT NO its Prey (2017) ive gotten so sucked into that game, probably gonna play it more after i post this.
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just-a-fluffy-knight · 4 months ago
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Little Sass Factory
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Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: canon typical language, Logan being ruthless and Wade being a teasy asshole
A/N: LETS GOOO DEADPOOL AND WOLVIE FIC‼️‼️ I’ve been wanting to write for these guys ever since I saw the movie y’all have no idea I am so obsessed with them right now 😞 AND A PLUS BEING THIS DOESNT NECESSARILY SPOIL THE MOVIE SOOOO YALL CAN READ IT 🙌🏻🙌🏻
I really hope y’all like this bc I cannot stop thinking about them and yapping about them to my buddies 😭🙏🏻 Like as much as I’d love to wreck these two, I cannot stop thinking about them as a ler duo so have this :]
OKAY HAVE FUN READING YALL 🫂❤️
Tag List: @prairleedog (THANKS FOR THE TITLE INSPO POOKALOOKS 🙏🏻❤️) @kittenwhiskers @cherry-bomb-blush
“Y’know what? I’m actually real excited for this! Moony has been wanting to write a thing with us for a while now! Good on her for pushing through the writers block, that shit sucks ass.”
“…What the hell are you talking about?! We’re looking for the kid, remember!?”
And that they were. They’d been scouring the apartment for like… six minutes now trying to find you. But somehow, you’d been able to consistently switch hiding spots without them noticing.
How? They had no clue. The pair wouldn’t have been surprised discovering you were also some kind of mutant but with advanced sneakiness, if that was even a thing.
Wade was actually having a bit of fun with this, whereas Logan… he was getting pretty pissed. More so than usual.
“Kid, I swear to god, if you don’t show yourself in ten goddamn seconds, I WILL start tearing this fucking place down!”
Logan crouched, his claws instantly coming out, making Wade panic.
“Woaaah, woah, woah, woah! Easy, Peanut, we’re trying to find ‘em! Not kill them, which may sound a little rich coming from me-“
“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to be angry. The kid decided to pull that shit on us and then split. And now we can’t find ‘em.” The older man growled, his claws retracting back into his hands.
“And this is the moment we start working together!” Wade announced, an arm slung around Logan’s shoulder that most likely would’ve been sliced if he hadn’t allowed the latter to shrug it off in annoyance.
However, Logan swiftly turned at the sound of a noise nearby, his eyebrow raising as he went to check it out, leaving Wade to keep rambling about nonsense he didn’t understand.
“God, where’s Peter Parker when you need him?? Actually, I don’t think I’d mind a lil bit of Miguel O’hara…” Wade let out a long whistle.
“…Ah wait, he doesn’t have that Spidey-Tingle , fUCK-!”
The merc suddenly yelped as he was grabbed by his collar, being yanked towards where Logan was moving.
Meanwhile, you were curled up, both hands over your mouth as you tried to shut yourself up, anxious titters threatening to give yourself away.
You mentally berated that stupid floorboard that just had to creak at the slightest bit of goddamn pressure.
“Ohhh, Y/NNNNN! Come on out now, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”
The sound of the merc’s goofy teasing made you snicker even more, but when you heard how close Logan’s voice was to the closet, you froze.
“Why the hell do you have to talk like that?”
“Whaaat? It turns up the fun knob a little bit! And I know they can hear meeeee!” Wade crooned in that same sing-song tone, followed by an unamused huff from Logan.
“We’re gonna getcha, we’re gonna getchaaaa!”
God, could they just get out the room?? You had to throw them off again and fast. During your panicked inner monologue, you were soon met with… silence.
You relaxed, knowing you must’ve had an opportunity.
…At least you did until you realised something. When the hell is it ever quiet when those two are together?
Then, you heard a hushed voice coming from outside the closet door.
“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for…”
…Oh, fuck.
Without warning, the closet doors were swung open by Wade, and the merc jokingly vocalised (very off-key too) while throwing his arms up with a flourish.
“WOOOAAAAAH!”
As you yelped in fear and dashed out the closet, Wade laughed and made a glance towards… well, air.
“If ya know, ya know!”
You quickly slipped past Wade, also laughing as you ran out the door to the room you’d been hiding in.
“Yohou’ll never take me al- ACK-!”
You yelped again as two strong arms wrapped around your torso, hoisting you up and off the floor.
…Shit.
“And just where do you think you’re goin, bub?”
“Wait, wahahait! Logan, hohold on-“
“No no no no no, I’m not waiting for anything.” Logan interrupted, carrying you back into the bedroom. “Not after you pulled that shit.”
“Oh, whahat? A little bit of water?”
“I wouldn’t say the rubber band on the sink trick counts as a little bit of water, Y/N.” Wade snickered, crossing his arms and smiling proudly at the fact you’d been caught.
“Come ohon, it wasn’t that bahAD-!” You yelped again as you were tossed onto the bed, still giggling. “Whahat’s the matter? Couldn’t shake the water off, kitty cat?”
The older hero scowled threateningly at you, ignoring Wade who sniggered at the joking insult.
“What?”
“You heheard me!”
Just as Logan was about to full on lunge towards you, Wade grabbed him.
“Hey, hey! Easy now, boy.” The merc spoke like he was talking to a feral dog, making Logan glare at him and growl.
“God, what now?”
“We gotta approach slowly! It builds up anticipation…” As Wade spoke, he began slowly approaching, carefully clambering onto the bed. “And proves to this little prankster how royally fucked they are!”
And it was working. Your giggles soon turned nervous, and you curled up, attempting to shy away from Wade (but not actually putting a lot of effort into getting away, much to Logan’s surprise and Wade’s amusement).
“And theeeen I’m juuust gonnaaaaaa…”
Suddenly, the merc’s arms swiftly looped under your own, lifting and leaving your, well, everything pretty much exposed and unable to be protected.
“Go on, boy! Gettem! Gettem, boy!”
Logan’s fury was way too fuelled by Wade’s stupid comments to even allow you to get a word in edgeways, instantly lunging forwards before digging and vibrating his claw-shaped hands right into your ribs.
“OhoH SHIHIHIT-! L-Logan, gehet OHOHOFF-!” A squeal left your mouth as you burst into frantic giggles and tried to kick, only for the older man to firmly shove right back at your legs, rendering you unable to fight back.
“God, will you just- quit the kicking?” Logan growled, a surprising air of playfulness behind it as he shot his hands right down to your thighs, firmly kneading there.
Despite already squealing your ass off, you couldn’t help but make a quip.
“Mahahaking biscuits reheally isn’t gonna hehehelp you beat the kitty allegahations, buhud-!”
Another low grumble filled the room, before Logan turned his head to Wade.
“Shut the kid up.”
“Roger that!”
Wade did a dumb salute before unhooking his arms from under yours to wiggle his fingers right into your armpits.
“Getchagetchagetcha!”
“AAAAHHHHHAHA DAMMIHIHIT-!” You practically shrieked, your giggles instantly shifting into full blown laughter as you pinned your elbows to your ribs, trying to squirm away but failing thanks to that iron grip Logan had on your legs.
“Ooh! I think I got a killer spot here, Logan!”
“Hmph, that’s nothin. Watch this.”
Logan earned another screech by mercilessly drilling his thumbs into your hips, making you buck instinctively and cackle uncontrollably.
“Nuh-uh! Armpits are the killer!” Wade protested, the merc speeding up his tickles on your underarms.
“Fat chance! They’re like a banshee when you get ‘em here!”
You wanted to protest, but all you could focus on were those hands attacking your weak spots.
Eventually, you felt them thankfully let up.
…For now, anyway.
“Now, Y/N. There is a way we can squash this beef, y’know.”
Logan sighed at Wade’s words, never understanding this ridiculous slang he dropped into conversation like it was nothing.
“Maybe a simple phrase such as… ‘I’m sorry?’”
“I can do one better.” Logan interrupted. “How about ‘I’m sorry I was a jabbering little sass factory who had the audacity to pull a dumb fuckin prank on people who didn’t do jack?’”
While catching your breath, you sealed what was basically your death wish.
“Oh, yeheah, Captain Caveman? Wheheres your helicopter cluhub, you gonna hit mehe with it?”
Logan fell silent again… while Wade couldn’t help but let out a wheeze at the quip.
“Ohoh, my god! Baby’s first character comparison joke, I’ve taught you so well..!” Wade sniffed dramatically, wiping a fake tear of proudness from the corner of his eye.
However, he froze once he heard you mutter something else.
“Thahat’s right, Mr Clehean-“
A strong gasp of offence left the merc as he placed a hand on his chest, while Logan gave him a smug look at not being the only one who was insulted.
“I beg your finest fucking pardon?! You think that’s any way to talk to Marvel Jesus and his very hairy disciple here!?”
Logan gave Wade another unamused glare.
“Y’know what?”
Wade then swiftly grabbed you again.
“Give ‘em the whiskers, Peanut!”
“They’re not whiskers, they’re muttonchops, you dumb fuck.”
“Same thing! Or shall I pull the move and do a much better job as always?”
The older man snarled, lowering his head down.
“I’ll show you who does it better, asshole…”
“Okay, wait, wahait-! W-What mohove is thiHIHIS-?!”
You cut yourself off with yet another shriek as Logan suddenly blew a giant raspberry right against your stomach, the added sensations that his facial hair provided making you near silent laughter.
It was clear that Logan was basically taking out all his pent up annoyance at Wade on you, and good god it tickled super bad.
And Wade? He was being no help either, as usual.
“Awww, wook at the giggwy wittle baby! Are the Badger Berries making their tummy all tickly? And are they having the time of their life? Yes, they are! Yes, they aaare!”
…Asshole. (Even if he was right.)
You did pride yourself on lasting about five raspberries (Wade could only ever really handle two), but you eventually had to tap your hand against one of Wade’s arms that were still hooked under yours.
“Okahay, Logan. Give em a rest.”
Despite his annoyed hesitance, Logan leant back up, allowing you to get your breath back in shaky pants.
“Geheez… you twoho are juhuhust..!”
“We’re waiting, kid.”
The older man interrupted, giving you a playful but threatening look.
“Fihine… I-I’m sohorry..!” You sighed, your face red as anything as you blinked away little tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes.
“There we go! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wade teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, in which you just rolled your eyes.
“Anyway, we better get ready for round two, huh?”
…Uh oh.
“WHAT?! B-Buhut I apologised!”
Wade did a pretend ‘apologetic asshole’ wince.
“Yeah… but this attack was more only to get you to apologise. This one is to actually teach you a lesson!”
“But thahat’s bullshit-!”
“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t give a fuck.”
Logan shared a look of pure mischief with Wade.
“Let’s gettem.”
And just like that, you were screaming and laughing the apartment down once more, as Logan nuzzled his furry face right into your belly again, pretending to eat it and growling playfully while Wade wrapped his arms around you and blew a raspberry right into the crook of your neck.
Yeah… you were gonna be here for a while.
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ireadwithmyears · 1 year ago
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Absent mindedly making me want you
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Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader
Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot
Summary : 
Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead
Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N
“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”
The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days
But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.
This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.
But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.
“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug. 
She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.
“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.
“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.
She hits you with a pillow for that. 
“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.
She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go. 
When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on. 
It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.
She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later. 
When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.
*
To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.
In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.
Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather. 
Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.
Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.
From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly.  “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it. 
You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.
“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off. 
She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently. 
“Can you tell me why?”
You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate. 
She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her. 
“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.” 
Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.
“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic. 
“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.
She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”
Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.
“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.” 
She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.
“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?” 
In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.
“I know, Elles.”
She gives your hand a squeeze. 
“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”
Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.
*
“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”
She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.
Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.
You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.
*
You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on. 
It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.
When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump. 
“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.
You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”
When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape. 
Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you? 
The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.
You want more.
*
You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.
“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.
Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before. 
“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.
*
It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore. 
At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.
“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.” 
You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under. 
Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.
“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time. 
She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.
You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak. 
When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.
When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.
“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.” 
Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.
She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.
“Hey, eyes on me.” 
You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going. 
“That’s it, almost there.” 
She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.
“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.
When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you. 
She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need. 
Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.
And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.
The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.
When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.
You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.” 
She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.
“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling. 
Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.
*
Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun. 
Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation. 
In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does. 
You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.
Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride. 
You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.
“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.
When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.
One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze. 
“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”
God! 
If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.
*
If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.
You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing. 
Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable. 
That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.
Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward. 
Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” 
Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.
“Want somethin’.” 
You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.
“Yeah? What’s that?” 
She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you. 
You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match. 
The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.
You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead. 
Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.
All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.
Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs. 
The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.
“Oh, so that’s what you want.” 
Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes.  Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.
Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.
“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,” 
Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you. 
“You.” 
Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper. 
“I want you.” 
You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.
It sounds small.
It sounds completely inadequate.
And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.” 
She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.
*
Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...
But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.
She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.  
“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch. 
“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?” 
When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.
You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks. 
“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.” 
Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”
You feel her low chuckle against your neck. 
“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark. 
This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you. 
Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”
She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.
Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward. 
Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch. 
“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.” 
Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone. 
You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way  that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.
She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.
She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh. 
Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up. 
“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.” 
“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat. 
Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.
“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.
She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.
“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”
Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.
“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower. 
“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.
“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.” 
Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.
She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs. 
“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.” 
She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal. 
“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.
Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh. 
Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance. 
“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.
“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod. 
She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.
She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more. 
“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly. 
She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch. 
“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud. 
The sound you make is high and uncontained.
Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own. 
You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you. 
It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.
Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.
“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.” 
You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue. 
There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you. 
“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over. 
When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure. 
The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.
Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.
“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.
“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.
“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.
“I want you too.”
*
“Atta girl, just like that.” 
Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.
What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily. 
“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.
“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.
That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 
Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.
She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control. 
You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it. 
All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.
She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.
She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.
You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.
Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open. 
“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks. 
“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.
Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure. 
“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.” 
Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.
So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.
At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers. 
Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar. 
She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:
“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”
A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.
Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be.  You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.
“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit. 
“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly. 
You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.
“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”
“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was. 
When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.
You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.
God.
You really fucking need her. 
She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.
 “Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.” 
She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting. 
Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly.  She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs. 
“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.” 
Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you. 
She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed, 
If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.
*
Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath. 
Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.
“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.” 
You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”  
You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.
“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.
She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her. 
“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs. 
“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?
You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore. 
A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes. 
She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up. 
When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.
“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression. 
“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”
“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.
She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.” 
That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you. 
“I don’t want to,” you grumble.
Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft. 
“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.” 
You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.
“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.
“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up. 
She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest. 
You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”
“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”
*
After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs. 
Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.
You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.
“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”
You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face. 
“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud. 
She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless. 
You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.
“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.
“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.” 
You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone. 
“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.
When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is? 
She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.
You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively. 
“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.
“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.
The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.
Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in. 
She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.
She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.
Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.  
She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.
One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull.  Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut.  Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body. 
“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear. 
Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.
She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely. 
She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours. 
You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”
There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 
She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her. 
Her safety.
Her warmth .
Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.
-
this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading
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merlinssassybeard · 1 year ago
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'Ex' Husband Gojo
Tags- fem reader x Gojo, swearing, angst.
Synopsis: The reader had a miscarriage and her husband wasn't there with her to give her support and now she's mentally shaken. Y/n decides to divorce him and but things take a way different turn...
Gojo and reader are married for 4 yrs and love each other profoundly but a terrible accident happened with reader and caused reader a miscarriage and was going through a very bad time. Reader wanted Gojo there to help mentally and emotionally but he was busy with curses...
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"Satoru", you began with a shaky voice.
Your husband Satoru Gojo had all your attention the moment you said his name.
You had called up Satoru to the Tokyo estate, your marital home, for 'an important emergency talk'. These words were enough for Gojo to run from his busy packed schedules to run home to check up on you.
"Hmm?", Satoru hummed indicating you he's all ears. Both seated opposite to each other in the kitchen.
"Satoru, i-", you hesitated but continued, " Satoru, i want divorce...."
At first, he was unresponsive, still processing whether the words he heard were real or some weak residual cursed technique from cursed spirits left on him considering he came right after finishing a mission.
"Divorce?" Satoru came to his senses, "is this... some sort of.. joke my love MRS y/n? Cus' I'm really not liking it!", he tried to laugh it off.
But this wasn't a joke.
Not for you.
You're done.
Done giving him all of everything you have and receiving none.
You had your head slightly bowed down, unable to summon the energy, the strength to look right into his eyes. "This is not a joke, Satoru Gojo.", "i cannot live like this anymore".
Satoru knew it was indeed serious by the tone of it so he's demeanor changed as well.
"Why is it so y/n?", he mumbled in his soft husky voice while extending his hand towards yours to hold. "Is it something i did? You know you can tell me. I told you beforehand marrying me wasn't going to be easy, you remember?"
Yes he is right. He did told you a bazillion times when you nagged him for marriage anytime and everytime you saw him breathing around you. He had told you enough times that being his wife and also in a conservative society isn't going to be a cakewalk. 'Once married, there is no way out of the marital bond since its a holy bond, blessed by the heavens themselves' or as they said, but you didn't care, at that time.
"Reasons don't matter.", you flinched your hands away from his approach and passed the envelope with the papers and got up. "You'll find my signatures in there. Please be civil. Don't want any drama."
Satoru didn't knew what to say since he didn't even expected such a devastating and mind boggling news either. He had just finished his mission overseas and had taken only an hour of rest before being assigned another 'clean up' duty (messed/botched mission by another sorcerer) and in the middle of it he gets your call for an emergency meet up at the house.
He has been working all around the clock and came home to see you, hoping to receive kisses or you expecting souvenirs, which he had plenty just for you. But instead he got this ..... a farewell?
Gojo stayed seated there, watching you leave the kitchen to the room. He stayed seated there for a moment wondering what did he do, where did he go wrong, did he go wrong? Are you alright? Is this a cry for help? Is everything okay with you?
He wanted to check up on you so he got up to head towards the bedroom where you were but stopped dead in his tracks when it hit him, the reason....
"Y/n", you heard the door slide open and Gojo calling your name.
He opened the door and saw you were.... packing? God, you're really not joking.
"Yes?", you gathered the strength to look up at him for the first time in months! Due to his 'business trips' and you swear to god you would have fell down crying as your knees went weak.
"Is it...", he stumbled to say further but he knew he had to confront you with this, "is it because of that thing we talked about? On the phone?"
You knew you will burst out crying in front of him if he talked any further and because of that you couldn't speak either, holding tight onto lips to avoid the tears.
"Uh huh mmmhh mmmhh" you nodded and tried to avoid eye contact.
Oh no! Satoru knew he messed up. But he couldn't just let you... leave!? How could he? He knows and you too, that you are the only person who makes him vulnerable to the point he acts like child, only with you. You are the only one who actually makes him happy and content with his life in this miserable shite world. No words describe your and his relationship. So just how could he just let you leave?
"Y/n. I get it. You want kids." He mumbles, "then we'll have kids! Okay?" He declared.
You looked at him, and when he said that he looked as if he's been held under gun point, reluctant, yet... determined?
No! Yes, you do want children but the role of a father cannot be forced upon a man! That way the child will only be a 'burden' rather than a child born out of love and acceptance.
"No need." You announced and turned your back to him and started putting your clothes in the bag. "My mind can't be changed"
Gojo was left puzzled. He is ready to give you what you had been asking the day you both got married, what his and your parents wanted and the entirety of the Jujutsu Society had a keen eye on.
"I can't let you leave y/n like this", he said not knowing what to do either.
"Okay, I'll put on some fresh clothes.", you replied unbothered.
"No y/n i I told you once you're married you can't!", Satoru tried to come up with some reasoning.
"How the FUCK i cannot?" You yelled right onto his face, throwing the dress in your hand on the floor, annoyed at everything and anything.
"You just CAN'T!", Satoru tried to hold his sanity together.
"I AM FUCKING LEAVING! Divorce or NOT!", You snapped at him and went to pick the dress up and put it in the bag.
"Listen y/n, we can't go with divorce, it'll cause a lot of talk in the family and there's more but we just can't...", he tried to reason with you calmly but you were not in the mood.
"Why do you suddenly want me in your life when from the past fucking 4 years all you have done is being out on your trips?" You sneered and mocked, "Announcing we're going to have kids! Wow! That's not how it works Satoru!"
Satoru now lost it.
"Then what IS IT YOU WANT!? Haven't i given enough? You wanted this marriage! Not me! But i went for it because it was you! Went against my family for you and kept you away from them but what do you care" (your in-laws are toxic and would love to dance over your grave)
"Thats because i refuse to be your whore! You called me up whenever you felt like it. Might as well be your wife rather than just be some whore you sleep with on friday nights."
You recognized what you just babbled out and its disgusting. Your hands involuntarily moved and covered your mouth. You couldn't ever fathom the words you puked.
It is NOT like that! Not at all! You love Satoru, you Have been for a long time! And to have him as your husband is a dream come true! But how could say such lowly things.
Satoru just stood there. It was like one explosion after the other. So that is it? You came to him... for looks? For money? For sex? Goddammit! Satoru wanted to laugh because women of his family warned him not to marry some average human girl, saying further that you'll rob him of his money one day. But he didn't and just stood there watching the horror in your eyes unfold.
Satoru saw you as the only person in his life that made him actually understand the definition of love. Especially someone human, a non sorcerer like you. Thought of you made him content and calm, knowing he has someone waiting for him...... but not anymore.
He rubbed his temple as he'd been without an eye covering this whole time and his head ached a little with all this drama unfolding. He smiled through and looked at you, "that's what you think of me y/n?"
"No-no Satoru! Thats not what meant! Ugh! I don't want the divorce anymore!-"
He interrupted, "ah its okay, totally okay. I'll sign em."
Gojo was awfully calm and collected and you knew that when he's like this he would explode like a volcano if irked.
"No i will not let you!" You screamed and pushed him and ran out of the room in a frenzy to retrieve the divorce papers and tore the sections with your signature into tiny unrecognizable trash.
Satoru walked into the kitchen and just stood there. "You can have this house. I'll have Ijichi send down some papers later."
You eyes widened, "what..... papers?"
"Separation papers", he replied.
His gaze went around the house randomly and said, "since you don't wanna be a-" he stop and looks at you but continues.
"Since you do not wish to be a 'whore', you're free from me. I don't want chaos in both of our families so im suggesting separation. Yeah? Works in favor of both of us"
You were shook. You knew what you were doing when you brought the divorce papers but you didn't expected it to become so real.
"I'm leaving now. I'll send for my things so please don't throw my things just yet! Haha." Satoru was throwing jokes at a moment like this.
Damage has been done.
You ran out as soon as you saw him leave. You kept saying that its not what you meant and there's more to it and what not. But he just wore his blindfold and got into the car.
You saw him shut the door on your face and uttered his last words as your husband to you....
"Congratulations, Ms y/n. This'll be the last time you'll see me and when you think you're ready for divorce, lemme know!"
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Part 2
Series masterlist
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lavishlyleo · 2 years ago
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Astrology Observations 3
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The power pisces placements hold is actually insane, like everyone talks about how intuitive Scorpios are, but have you seen what a Pisces can do when they set their minds to something? Especially a Sun / Mercury Combination in this sign. Like these people can not only predict many things and easily read foretold messages, getting insight on something before it happens, but they also have heavy manifesting powers when they have a lot of faith in something that they think will happen. It's like they speak it into existence. These people have a sixth sense I swear.
Like everything people think Scorpios are Pisces IS.
Having a Libra or Gemini Moon in your Solar return chart could indicate you being put in a situation where you appear fake and/or two faced. ( NOT Natal chart, Solar Return Chart ) I remember during 2020 I had this, and I used to always wanna keep the peace and harmony in my friend group, but when certain people left that I didn't like, I used to talk SO MUCH SHIT. It's a thing of not being liked by certain people or not liking certain people and them making you irritated and angry, but not wanting to cause more problems that would make the situation worse. So you just leave it be but as soon as you get the chance to vent about it, it's like a flood gate opening.
Moon in 11th house people CANNOT live without their group. I know someone with this placement and he always has a group to tag along with and he has so many connections to people. He's the poster child of social butterfly.
Being around someone with a Debilitated or Fall Moon ( Capricorn and Scorpio ) when they're irritated or angry is so draining. Like they WILL suck the energy out of the room when they're mad. Like you're walking on eggshells with what you say to them. However usually when the native realizes that it's affecting everyone they will leave the scene until they cool down, or try to sit down and talk about their feelings. This is because they don't want to stew in their own anger because it's draining to them too, so most would rather solve the issue than keep being angry.
Pisces Mars is another powerful placement to have for intuition and being able to dissect people's mind, intentions and feelings. Mars is the energy we put out into the world, but Pisces Mars uses their energy to absorb other peoples' energies to get the feel about somebody. This can also indicate someone who is very sleepy all the time, espeically around emotionally and spiritually draining people because they have to use more energy on these people.
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In synastry, we all know to check Venus, Mars, Moon, ect. HOWEVER! I feel like another huge determining factor in synastry is ruler planet chemistry. For example. If person A has Gemini Rising, and person B has Capricorn Rising, You would check how person A's Mercury aspects person B's Saturn. If A's Mercury trines B's Saturn then they could have a relationship based off similar experiences and having similar ways of thinking, despite their Rising signs being in quincunx. Also take into account where the chart ruler falls in each others charts. Another example is if Person A's Mercury could be in B's 6th house, making their relationship more work related and, and they sharing everyday little details to eachother.
Having a lot of strong and prominent aspects to one planet can make it a key focal point in your life, even if it's not the chart ruler, dominant planet, ect. This also means that planet has a more far reaching and influential power over the many planets it's aspecting. Think of dividing and conquering in a sense. And the planets being aspected by this one planet can even take on the qualities of the planets sign(s).
For example, someone can have many planets in fire or air, initially giving them those fire/air qualities. However, if their Saturn aspects alot of their planets (especially personal planets), then they may take on a more serious and calculated demeanor. Similar to that or a Capricorn or Aquarius.
What is it with fixed Mars signs and BEING SO FUCKING STUBBORN!? Especially Scorpio or Taurus Martians. I mean I know I can be stubborn sometimes but this is insane. In some instances, they KNOW they're in the wrong but will still defend their side of the argument until they day they DIE!! Obviously this is not everyone with this placement, at all times, but I've seen a couple people with this placement do this in when debating or arguing and it's like talking to a brick wall.
Having a lot of planets in the 10th house, or having personal planets in the 10th house in many of your Persona charts can indicate being very conscious of what you say to people, or to the public as to not have anything you say ruin your reputation. Any vile or ill feelings you have towards people are said in private to people you trust. These people are VERY conscious of their social and digital footprint.
Sagittarius Risings can have be very clever and calculating with their addictions. They're excellent at saving up money and rolling on a tight budget, thanks to their 2nd house being in Capricorn, however, with the full intentions of blowing all that money on something most people would find reckless or not essential. For example, saving up a months worth of rent to blow it all at the mall on anything they find and like when they get there. Calculating enough to know how much money they'll likely need for their adventure, but vague enough not to know exactly what they'll buy when they actually get there.
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I think this kinda goes without saying but also look at the house your planets are in along with the sign! For example, Someone with Libra Mars may seem really chill and compromising but if they have it in the 1st house they can be way more agressive and bold than a normal Libra Mars, and take on many traits of an Aries Mars.
On the same note, look at which specific house the planets are in, I feel like planets can be effected by the whatever house they are exalt, domicile, detriment, or fall in. For example, Venus could be in it's home sign, Taurus, however if Venus is in the 6th house it would still be in a somewhat fall because Virgo rules the 6th house and is in fall in Venus.
ALONG THE SAME NOTE, I don't see people talk about this enough but signs in domicile can be just as malefic as signs in detriment!! While a Capricorn Moon can have trouble showing their emotions and opening up to people, a Cancer Moon could be too emotional and always make the topic about how they feel and their emotions. Or while a Pisces Mercury could be avoidant and emotionally persuasive with their words, a Virgo Mercury could be overly analytical and constantly nitpick.
If you don't relate to a house placement, check your chart in whole houses.
With most of us alive today having Neptune sextile Pluto, this means we tend give a LOT of power to people we heavily idolize or are obsessed with greatly, for good or for worse.
I feel like the people who get stereotyped the most and/or have a warped stereotype applied to them that isn't consistant with the signs original stereotype usually have Pluto, Neptune or sometimes Uranus in their first house because those planets stay in a sign for years and can affect that generation of people. For example, Sagittarius Risings are stereotypically optimistic, easy going, adventureous and free spirited. However with most of Gen Z having Pluto in Sagittarius, this gives our generation of Sagittarius Ascendant natives a more serious, intense and secretive qualities.
A conjunction between two planets that are in different signs can weaken the conjunction. This is because while the planets energies are still combining, the planets have different ways of outputting that energy, which can sometimes disrupt the synchronization of the two planets.
This goes for opposition too, and I think it makes it worse because usually when two planets are in opposition, they are in sister signs, which gives them similar qualities and a basic understanding for each others energies. However if two planets in opposition aren't in sister signs, then this can make the placement feel more like a Square/Quincunx combination because there won't be that initial understanding or similar qualities, And the signs won't share the same modality or element.
I feel like Lilith aspecting the Moon can be more detrimental and powerful than the Moon being in Scorpio or Capricorn. This is because Lilith in astrology, like the moon is related to feminine energy (After all it's black MOON Lilith). But because of this very powerful and similar influence to the Moon, this can warp the effects and qualities the Moon has on the native, and the line where Lilith and the Moon's influence seperate can blur for the native. Personally me, I think this placement is the most powerful Lilith placement/aspect to have, even more powerful than aspects to the Ascendant or Sun, and is what typically makes someone a Lilith dominant.
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Placements that indicate having strong manifestation powers -
Jupiter or Venus in the 12th house.
Neptune in the 1st, 3rd or 8th
Having Pisces in a fire house (1st, 5th, 9th)
Sagittarius in Neptune and/or 12th house
Having planetary conjunctions where the planets in conjunction are in Pisces/Aries (One planet is pisces and the other is Aries)
Saturn in the water houses
Stelliums that include saturn or Neptune
Stelliums in the 8th house
Ruler of the 12th house in the fire houses (Co rulers count too)
having many planets in the 10th or 11th house (because they are Saturn ruled houses and manifestation here is a result of good karma and time).
On that note, not every planet in the 12th house is good for manifestation. Brash and scattered planets like Mars, Mercury, Moon, ect can be too chaotic and scattered for accurate and great manifesting.
While Venus Persona Chart can show what kind of lover you are, Juno persona chart can show what your lover's chart may look like.
Look at where the Ascendant of the Ascendant Persona Chart Ruler is in your natal chart for more insight about your identity and what your core themes are. For example if your Acsendant PC Rising is in Aquarius, check where Uranus and Saturn lies in your natal chart.
Personally, I think Venus should be exalted in Cancer and Jupiter should be exalted Pisces, they need to swap because it would make so many things line up with the placements exalts and domiciles for Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Mercury, ect. For a more in depth analysis check out my post here
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tainsan · 1 year ago
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misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)
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{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}
do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.
taglist: @lilactangerine @sookacc @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon (if you asked to be tagged and don't see your name, I am incredibly sorry but you cannot be tagged.)
-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----
⇢ master list ⇠
previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter
warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.
word count: 6.2k
“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.
“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.
“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?” 
Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer. 
“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”
You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.
“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.
“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”
“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.” 
“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.
“Touché Lee.” 
Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.
“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”
“Why would that alarm me?” 
Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs. 
“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.
“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no. 
You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.  
“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk. 
“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.
“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him. 
‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.
“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand. 
“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.
“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life? 
“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.
“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.” 
You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.
“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.
“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face. 
“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.
“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed. 
“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.” 
“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male. 
“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise. 
“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.
“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”
“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.” 
His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?
“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.
“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”
“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be. 
“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.
“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.” 
Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.
“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?” 
It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching.  Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.
Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.
“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions. 
“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.
What the fuck?
----
Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.
‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’
Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji. 
‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’
Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning. 
Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.
----
Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?
Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.
“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.
“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.
“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.
“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.
“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man. 
“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.
“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.
“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”
You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.
“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs. 
“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.
“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer. 
“No drink?” he asks one more time.
“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.
“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.
“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”
“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.
Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.” 
“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,” 
Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.” 
“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.  
“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.
Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.
“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself. 
“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.
“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.
“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.
“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.
“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill. 
“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?” 
Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.
“So do you want to see around?” 
“I’d love to.”
They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet. 
“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.
“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.
“How about you show your room too then?”
Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.
“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.
“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape. 
“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.
“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”
You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.
Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.
“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes. 
Peering around the room, turning in a circle
“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”
Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.
“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.
You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer. 
“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”
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gh0stlyfixation · 2 years ago
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5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant
Johnny “Soap” McTavish
Simon “Ghost” Riley addition here
John Price addition here
Tagging: @birthofvcnus
1. Poor johnny got the shot end of the stick when you became pregnant, you were mean. Pickles were something you craved and sheathed you liked them before or not, you sure as hell did now. But to make Johnny's life a little harder, it had to be the McDonald’s pickles.
“I just need a lot of pickles, like a lot.” Johnny says to the women at the register.
“Sir, I can’t give just pickles.” She tells him.
Johnny takes a deep breath, “I cannot and will not go home without the pickles, my wife is pregnant and mean. Please, I need the pickles I'll pay for a whole meal, please.” Johnny says, begging the poor woman. She walks away for a few trying to see what she should do.
She comes back, a very large jar of pickles, “on the house. Good luck.” She tells him.
You nearly cry at the sight of pickles and to the generous lady at McDonald’s. Full on sobbing
2. It’s month 5 and you’ve been on a silent hunt for a puppy. Simon's wife had put her mind on adopting a puppy after she adopted a cat. It’s all you wanted now but to no avail, you couldn’t find the right one.
You sit on the couch sobbing. Wet tears drip onto your laptop that laid on your lap. Johnny comes in rushing to your side asking what was wrong.
“I can’t find the perfect puppy. All of them are perfect!” You cry. He’s confused, he never talked about adopting a dog.
“Since when we’re we getting a dog?” He asked, nope, wrong thing to say.
You sob even harder, “I knew you wouldn’t say yes so I wasn’t gonna say anything! Now I can’t even get a puppy.” You wail loudly.
Johnny is confused about what to do or say, he remembers Simon telling him about his wife’s random outbursts but he never understood until now, just gotta agree and deal with it, and be nice! Simon told him one day.
3. This sandwich you ate was stellar, everything about it was perfect, but as it got smaller and smaller your face frowned more. Johnny notices your face scrunching up. “What’s wrong lass?” He asks you.
Tears form in your eyes, “it’s just so good, I don’t want it to end.” You sniffle. At least you weren’t having a break down.
“I can make you another one?” Johnny asked softly rubbing your lower back.
“Just like this one? The same amount of meat, cheese and pickles, do not forget the pickles!” You exclaim, pointing a finger at him as Johnny gets up. As long as you weren’t incolsable, he’d make twenty more.
4. You were angrier this last term. You were miserable carrying the weight of your already 10-pound baby, “fucking hell.” You yell as the baby kicks.
“I swear to fucking god Johnny, I’m going to hit you if you ever put a baby in me again!” You randomly snap at him on the couch.
By now he’s used to it, he just nods and lays a hand on your thigh. He hears the familiar sniffle from next to him and he sees you have tears running down your cheeks, “Sorry Johnny.” You whisper now feeling guilty for snapping at him.
“It’s okay sweets, I know you don’t mean anything.” He says pulling you to his side, placing a hand on your belly and rubbing soothing circles.
5. Johnny sits in a debriefing meeting with Simon and Price when his phone starts to vibrate, the screen facing down. By the second vibrating sound going off Johnny turns his phone over and sees your pretty face light up the screen, “hold on, sorry.” He says Walking outside the door.
“Hi baby,” he cheerfully says.
“Well, I’m glad you having a grand time while I’m fucking not.” You yell through the phone, obviously crying. Johnny pulls the phone away from his ears and the boys laugh after hearing you scream.
“What’s wrong honey?” He asked, being very careful on how he sounds.
“I’m hitting every single red light on this 20-mile road and I’m so upset.” You sob into the phone, “like why can’t I just get a green light so I can get home quicker!” You whine with a broken sob.
“Honey, sometimes we can’t control the lights. Why don’t we do the breathing exercises together to calm you down, yeah lass?” He asked.
After finally calming you down and getting you through three more red lights, you were almost home. He walks back into the meeting when price speaks, “Our wives, they are crazy.”
“Yeah, mine is pregnant again, so we have a hamster now.” Simon scoffs, “mine is worse.” He finishes.
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igotanidea · 1 year ago
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//For his eyes only//: J.T x fem!reader x D.G
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Summary: how would it be to have both Nightwing and Red hood in bed at the same time? Well, Y/n was curious as well.
You can check the preview here.
Warnings: SMUT, ass fucking, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, showoff, sexual tension, it's absolutely explicit.
MINORS DNI!!!!!!! I'M SERIOUS!!!! IT'S HEAVY MATURE CONTENT AND I SWEAR IF YOU ARE UNDER LEGAL AGE AND INTERACT WITH THAT I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND BLOCK YOU FOR GOOD!
***
“I can’t believe I actually agreed to that” Jason muttered with jaw clenched as he watched his girlfriend bustling around, waiting for Grayson to show up to their little party.
“Come on, Jace.” She smiled brightly, absolutely innocently, almost like they weren’t going to have a threesome soon. And if he didn’t know what she was reading beneath that plan t-shit and mom jeans he would probably believe that fake chastity “it’s gonna be fun.”
“Yeah, right.” he turned around just to avoid looking at her angelic face and getting that sting of jealousy caused by the thought that he actually was going to share her with his fucking brother. “Maybe for you, but not for me…..”
“Jay….” She cooed, putting a hand on his shoulder from behind and massaging the tensed muscles gently “we’ve talked about it.” Y/N took a step forward, her front now pressing to his back, hand travelling down his biceps, caressing gently “why don’t you just relax a little?” she raised on her tiptoes and kissed the crook of his neck making him groan.
“I swear if Grayson doesn’t show up his ass here in the next ten second I won’t even bother controlling myself anymore….” Jason gasped, the touch of her lips making him hornier and harder than even before.
“You know I only want you.” she assured “we’re just playing around, but it’s nothing serious, you know it, right?” she muttered against his skin “I don’t care about Dick.”
“Fuck, princess” Jason turned around and caught her sneaky hands in his “don’t test me right now, cause I can still call this thing off and have you pinned to the mattress or the wall, screaming my fucking name.”
“I bet I will do it one way or another.” She licked her lips, eyes blown with lust, mirroring the same expression he had in his
“Fuck!” Jason hissed and put his lips on hers, kissing her hungrily with lust, want, need, his own hands finding a way towards her waist and hips, playing with the band of her pants, reaching for that red strings she hid from his prying eyes. “I want you, princess.” He pulled her closer to him so she could feel how hard he already was “Now. please. Let’s just tell Grayson  to fuck off and have fun by ourselves. I can make you feel good.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” She wriggled out of his embrace making him whine and shook her finger at him “you are not a party pooper, are you, Jaybrird?” she pouted “you won’t deny your good girl a little more fun, will you?”
“Y/N…..” his tone became more of a warning than anything else, clear sign he was closing in on his patience. But before he could say anything else, the knock on the door cut him off. Y/N smiled brightly at Jason and moved to open the door, her boyfriend close behind. Like fuck he was going ot leave her out of his sight tonight.
“Hey Y/N” Dick, who was casually leaning on the frame put on his boy-wonder smile “Jaylad.”
“Hello to you too, Dickie” Y/N reciprocated the smile making Jason roll his eyes “come on in. You are right on time. Jace was getting quite impatient with the waiting.”
“Well, I cannot blame him. I was a bit giddy myself, knowing the treat….” Dick gave Y/N a glance and even if she was only in her plain, everyday clothes he was perfectly capable of imagining the rest.
“Careful with words now, Grayson!” Jay’s arms wrapped around Y/N protectively “remember your place here!”
“I know, I know” Dick raised his hands in surrender. “you are the boyfriend and I’m just a tag along. “
“Is that what he told you?” Y/N frowned
“Was I wrong, princess? Is he more to you? Think about that answer carefully, cause it may change how I will treat you tonight.” Jason whispered into her ear, still standing behind her and yet, looking straight into Dick’s eyes just to prove to his brother who was in charge of Y/N’s good mood this night.
“Mmmm.” Y/N whined a little, squirming against him “I like it when you go rough on me, Jason. I actually have an idea for tonight, but how about we move to the bedroom first?”
***
Her idea.
Dammit.
Her idea was pretty much based on the “good cop, bad cop” scenario.
What else, considering the fact that Dick actually used to be a cop and she really did like Jason going hard. Grayson was just supposed to be counterpoise to that.
And they just went for the plan.
How could they not, when she grabbed each of the boys by the hand and swaying her hips and wriggling her ass, lead them both towards the bedroom.
“We need some ground rules here.” Jason voice was stern as he glanced at his brother. “First of all, I am the only one who can make her come. You have no privileges with that, Grayson. Secondly, the second I tell you to move away from her, you listen to me. No objections. And last but not least, that pussy is mine and mine only.”
“Anything more there?” Dick smirked. With such attitude the good cop part was not going to stick to him for long.
“I think I made myself clear.”
“So…..” Dick trailed moving closer to Y/N who already laid on the bed, propped on her elbows, still in her clothes, her gaze jumping from Dick to Jason and back, watching them doing this crazy male-ego show. “You wouldn’t mind if I take those layers of her?” he climbed onto the bed, hovering over the girl, slowly peeling her shirt off.
“FUCK!” in a blink of an eye, Jace was on the other side of the bed, almost pushing Dick from the mattress
“That’s what I thought.” Dick laughed
“You know what?” Y/N sighed, getting quite impatient. “I can do this myself if none of you is capable. Maybe this will make it easier.” She lifted herself up, shoving Dick and Jason away and bowing on her knees. Painfully slowly, showing inch by inch of skin she started to peel her shirt off, caressing her own skin and breast in the process, exposing that damn red lingerie that was going to give Jace a heart attack. “How is that for the prelude?” she moaned, playing with her own, still covered breast. “God, if only someone could take care of me….”
“I ….” Dick started. He was already hypnotized by her every movement.
“Now, boys.” She freed herself from the top completely, smiling tentatively, her hair falling loose around her face “tell me, is it fair that I’m the only one half-undressed?” the question got her two heads shaking for a “no” answer “take your shirts off for me.”
She didn’t have to wait long since both brothers simply tore their polos off, letting her soak in their perfectly toned chests and  abs. God, she was going to have them both tonight.
“Y/N…” Jason whined, trying to reach for her, but she pushed him away again.
“Not yet, Jaybird. Not even close. I remember what I promised you, but stay patient for just one moment, can you?”
“What did she promise you?”
“Oh, you’ll see, Dickie. But for now.” she crawled closer to Grayson and put her lips on his, feeling him response immediately. Oh, he was a good kisser. Very skillful as his mouth moved in perfect sync with hers, slowly travelling towards her neck, shoulder and collarbone making her shiver.
“Mmm.” she moaned when he nibbled on her soft spot, her palm landing on Grayson’s chest, clawing on it gently, spurring him on, his excitement visible in his jeans “so good, Dick. So fucking good, I’ll give you that. Guess Kori was right about you. Wonder what else you have in store”
“Let me show you.” he groaned against her skin, trying to push her onto her back and have his way with her, but she pulled back.
“Nah. Patience is the word for you both. I’m gonna have my fun and hopefully some of it will be left for you. But it’s about me, understood?”
They both nodded. Her behavior, the fact that she had them both in her control was doing things to all three of them.
“Great. Now, Jaybrid.” She moved to the other side of the bed “show me what you got.” She grabbed Jason’s hands and put them on her waist, this time kissing him. He was rougher than Dick, going on her faster with more lust and need than his brother. But it was easier for him since he knew all the soft spots Dick had to find by himself “Jason….” she whined, tangling hands in his messy, silky black hair while he squeezed her tighter earning a little gasp.
“Do I make you feel good, baby?” he bit on her shoulder
“Showoff.” She moaned, grabbing onto him.
“Let me take those off.” Jason cooed playing with the button of her jeans, padded thumbs brushing over the soft skin of her belly
“Fuck.” She arched her back to him, her control slowly slipping “just do it.”
“As you wish” if she was going to have her fun, he was not the one to deny it. But it never meant he couldn’t tease her. And when he started removing her pants, slowly, making her lay down on the bed on her back, kissing her thigh, inside knee and calf in the process he knew she was back at his mercy.
“Don’t tease the girl, Jaybird” Dick laughed “she said it herself, she need someone to take care of her.”
“Oh, I am gonna take care of her.” Jason hissed, moving to hover over her body, looking straight into her eyes “not so fierce now, that you are under me, huh, princess?”
‘That can be easily changed.” She smirked, wrapping legs around Jason’s waist and swiftly changing the positions so now she was straddling him.
“Hm.” Jason smirked “I’m not gonna complain about that.”
“What about me?” Dick objected
“You can fuck off, Grayson.” Those reckless words made Y/N leave Jason’s lap and once again move to Dick.
“You will have the first round with me, Dick. It’s only fair before Jason stretch me out.”
“WHAT NOW?!” Jason yelled trying to grab her and pull her back to him, but Dick was already holding her against him, rubbing her sides igniting fire in her
“What makes you think I won’t be the one to stretch you out, sunshine?”
“How about we check?” she smirked, palming on his erection “oh, you are not lying, you are big. He’s big, Jason “ she threw a teasing glance at her boyfriend who was red due to the mix of fury and lust “Care to share with the group, Mr. Grayson?”
“You know me, I hate to brag, but since you asked to nicely….” The second she moved from him, Dick managed to free himself from the pants and boxers, showing all his glory, ready for action, already covered with pre-cum.
“Hmmmm.” Y/n wriggled on the bed invitingly “all that for me? Oh, Dick, you really shouldn’t have. Come to me for a treat my sweet boy.”
“But…” Jason objected again even though no one was listening as Dick crawled over Y/N pressing all his body against her. She was still in that damn lingerie, but the thin material was doing nothing to prevent her from feeling all of Dick’s body as he grinded into her, turning her into a wet pool of lust.
“How about we get rid of that.” Dick played with the sting of her underwear, still waiting for her permission
“Oh, yes, right.” She realized and pushed him away. It was truly amazing how much self-control she had. “Jace.” The girl motioned for the other boy to come closer “I always keep my promises.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, finally.” At this point, Todd was simply burning alive. He needed to feel her skin, her body against his. It was his right. And this time he was not going to go slow. He wanted all of her now. The fuck he was going to let Grayson go first. Besides, Dick (pun intended) wasn’t big at all. Not even close to him and maybe Y/N needed a little reminder of that. As Jason started to untie all those strings and straps of her underwear in the corner of an eye he noticed his brother jerking off. Pathetic. Famous Dick Grayson could not hold his own arousal. But then again, who would be able to do that with naked Y/N around? Shit, she was so hot
Jason put the straps of her bra down kissing her shoulders and moving lower towards her breast, sucking on each nipple making her moan and writhe against him, her arms wrapping around his back, pulling him closer, her legs slightly opening, making more place for him..
“not so fast, princess.” He bit on her breast and immediately soothed the mark with his tongue.
“Jay, please…” she whimpered
“But you wanted Dick to go first.” Jason pouted moving to kiss her belly and started to untie her red panties “Didn’t you love?”
“Mmmmm.” She gasped when her underwear were gone, her pussy exposed to the air, and when Jason moved away, back to his teasing mood “please….”
“Aren’t you a little moaning mess. And for who? For me, aren’t you? You beg for me. Only  for me. Not him.” Honestly he was trying to do some self-assurance more than teasing her. But he needed to hear her say it. “what do you want, princess? Who do you want first.” His fingers found a way to her clit and started circling it gently, adding to the flame inside her
“Ah!” she squirmed “I….. I…..”
“Tell me princess.”
“I… I want you…. you both.”
Oh? That was a little surprising. Who would have thought that she could be so dirty, needing not one but two men to satisfy her. That was so fucking hot.
“I don’t think that is how it’s going to work, love.” Jason chuckled ‘choose.”
“I….please….” she almost cried, unable to form a sentence, her mind overwhelmed by the lust, craving the release “please….” A few tears flew down her cheeks and Jason wiped them off, kissing her lips, slowly, gently, reassuringly.
“I got you love. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Actually, I will let Dickhead go first, cause he only got this one chance before I give you hundred more orgasm.” He moved back making room for his brother and causing Y/N’s body to tremble. “I meant what I said, Grayson. Her pussy is mine. And you don’t get to see her face when she comes. All you get is doggy style.”
“how about we ask Y/N what she needs.”
“Fuck! Just give me whatever!” she cried out. “If you want to keep talking it’s fine by me, but I will kick you out of my room and finish on my own!”
“fine!” dick relented “doggy style.”
“I want to see her face” Jason instructed moving to sit on the nearby chair, unzipping his own pants. This time Dick did not say a word grabbing Y/N by the waist and moving her onto all four, so she could face Jason. Spreading her legs a bit, he moved behind her.
“Hey! Aren’t you forgetting something!?” Jason shrieked
“What?”
“You are not going raw with my girl!” Todd threw a pack of condoms towards his brother.
“Medium size?” Dick hissed but then smirked “are those yours?”
“Very funny, Dickhead. Unlike you, I came prepared. I bought them especially for you. While covering my face obviously. Just wanted to avoid humiliation.”
“Hm, really. Guess it didn’t quite work out.” Dick laughed, putting the rubber band on and focusing back on Y/N with her ass in the air, whining but waiting patiently “Y/N.” he whispered “Are you….?”
“Fuck! Just do it, Dick. I need you!”
“Shit!” He pushed in, stretching her and filling fully, bottoming instantly due to how wet she was. They both groaned in unison and it made Jason flinch but he did not say a word, quite literally biting  on his tongue. Todd tried to stay focus on his girlfriend face, twisting with pleasure and not on the fact that is was Grayson who was giving her that. “You good, Y/N?”
“Good. Just move, Dick, move.” She wriggled her ass and it was all Dick needed to start thrusting into her.
“Shit, you feel so good, Y/n. So good. Now I know why Jason was reluctant to share. Shit, you are a dream.”
“Mhmmmm.” She whined meeting the pace of his thrust “Fuck, Dick…” the way she was gasping his name only spur him on. “more…. God, more…. “
“I’ll give you everything you want, Y/N” he moaned, grabbing her waist and pulling her back flush to his chest, his pace not slowing for even a second, her whines getting stronger. “Everything” her hand found his head and tangled in his hair while he added to all the stimuli by kissing her neck and grabbing her breast squeezing them, twisting the nipples.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck! Yes, yes! Dick, damn it yes! So… so close!”
“Come for me, y/n. I got you.” he barely hold himself back from adding “come for me in front of your boyfriend” but it was not needed since her orgasm washed over her with the force of hurricane, her body going completely numb in his arms. She was pretty much a jello.
“Dick…” she gasped, holding onto his biceps
‘How was that?”
“God, I…. wow. Let me just say I’m really glad you came.”
“Anytime for you sweetness.” He kissed her forehead
“Are you two done?” Jason hissed from the side. Only then Dick and Y/N remembered that he was actually still there. His tone might have suggested otherwise, but he really did enjoy the show as well. And there were clear signs of that, all over his hands and abs.
“Jason…” Y/N whispered, her sensitive body suddenly remembering how good he was making her feel. “Make me feel good.”
“Do you even realize how hot you are?” he asked taking Dick’s place “your face when you come. Fuck. I love you” he pushed her onto her back, capturing her lips in his. ‘You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” She mumbled, spreading her legs open, making space for him “Jason. Jason. Jason.” his name was like a prayer in her lips, sounding so good said in that breathy moan. “I want to feel you.”
“Only me?” he smirked, tracing patterns on her inside thigh. So close and yet so far from her center.
“Yes, Jason, only you.”
“We’re never gonna do this again, are we? The fucking threesome?” he asked, pressing his body closer to hers, moving lightly to give her foretaste of what was coming.
“No!’ she agreed way to fast, but who cared. “Never! I swear! Please! Jason, baby, please, please, please…”
“How can I ever refuse you?” he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear gently and spread her folds in that delicious stretch. No one said he wasn’t going  to go raw. She just felt to good around him to get separated by anything. And she was on pill eitherway. “God, you are still so tight. Guess someone was smaller than he was bragging to be.”
“Jason!” Y/N cried out and his attention was immediately back to her as he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his hips pushing deeper, harder, faster. Now she was making those sweet sounds only for him. Only he could make her come so fast, so hard, so intensely. Only he knew how to please her, how to get her high.
“Baby.” He groaned “tell me how this feels.” He needed her to say it. To assure him he was doing good, perfect, better than anyone (even though said anyone was sitting nearby, watching the scene with pain on his face and his dick in his hands).
“Ah… don’t stop Jace! Don’t stop. Make me come! Fuck, I missed you.” she was obviously referring to her first orgasm which Dick got from her. Apparently her subconscious wanted it to be given by Jason and not his brother.  “You’re doing so good, baby. So good!” she tightened her legs around him allowing him to hit her g-spot with every thrust.  
“Together?” he asked intertwining their fingers, snapping his hips more and more, only to please her, feeling both hers and his orgasm coming. They were just perfectly synchronized.  
“YES! Yes, Jason. Yes! Yes! Oh, god, fuck yes!” her walls fluttered around him as another wave of pleasure, this time stronger than before hit her making her vision blurry, her whole face screaming with pleasure as she screamed his name. His fucking name as he made her ride the high, prolonging the sweet release, not ready to let her go just yet. Not wanting to let go of her.
“God, Y/N.” he mumbled once she came down and he himself emptied his balls into her, but still not pulling back “I want to stay like this forever. With you. Just us” he leaned down to kiss her lovingly, without any urgency.
“Then stay.” She smiled lightly, caressing his chest and his autopsy scar “I want you to stay with me. I want to stay with you.”
“Let me just clean you up, first, baby. And then we’ll cuddle. I swear I’m letting you go before that.”
“I’d like that.”
“You heard the girl, Grayson.” Jason grabbed Dick’s pants blindly and threw them his brother’s direction “you had your fun now get the fuck out!”
“well, that really was fun.��� Dick slowly started to put his clothes on ‘I’m sure you won’t forget how I felt Y/N, cause sure as hell am I not forgetting your taste.”
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!”
“See you around, sunshine.” Dick grinned and letting his instincts take the best of him almost jumped out the window “Oh, yeah, right. Too soon” he laughed quickly realizing he was in civil, not the vigilante version of himself. When he finally left Jason grinned and turned towards his girlfriend, hugging her tightly.
“Why are you grinning like crazy?”
“Have you seen his face when I made you come?”
“Um, no? Believe me, that was the last thing on my mind at that moment. In fact, I am offended that it was on yours….”
“God, he was just so fucking jealous!” Jason was glowing “Thank you, babe” he pecked her lips “you were right. It was like killing two bird with one stone!”
“You are just unbelievable” Y/N shook head at her boyfriend stupidity
“But still, we are not doing this again, are we?”
“If you keep acting like a kid who just won a prize at fair….”
“Are you threatening me now, princess?”
“Just reminding you that a treasure like me have to be cherished.”
“Oh, I know that” he smirked and pushed her onto her back.
Were they supposed to get cleaned and cuddle?  Yes. Sure. But with Grayson out of the picture and Y/N still in his arms, who was going to stop Jason Todd from devouring his girl again?   
@clairacassidy
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s-soup111 · 11 months ago
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If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I would walk in my garden forever.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
Paring: Jinshi x (f) reader
Genre: angst
Tags: Break ups, death.
A/n: I swear I don’t hate Maomao, she’s just a victim of hate in these ffs 😔
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He could spend years waiting for you, he really would, he’s probably still waiting for you now, even if he is delusional enough to think you’d love him back. It’s his fault he knows, “Please, please don’t leave me here alone!” Those were your last words he heard as he left you in his flower garden in the harsh coldness of winter. That was some time ago. You were attached to him; yet, not lovers, something he holds dearly to his heart but not something that is really his.
He knows himself, even in the warm and welcoming sun’s of summer, he still can’t seem to let you go. He’d had countless proposals, however none of them loved him as you did. “I miss you, do you miss me?” He laughs at himself, why would you miss him? After all, he did leave you with nothing but hate in his heart, or that’s what he tells himself. “Everything is temporary, this is merely one of those things.”
He becomes interested in the girl named Maomao, you watch from a distance, he smiles at her as he’s smiles at you once a season ago, perhaps you miss that, perhaps you did. Maybe you did feel jealous when he’d unconsciously touch her back as they’d walked down his flower garden together, the flower garden which you shared your first kisses.
It was indeed quite strange to see him act with her in such a familiar way, as if he’d been with her all his life instead of you. He’d hardly look at you when you walk past, maybe this was fate. You wasn’t sure yourself. “You deserve better than me.” Those were his words on that day. Unfortunately, you didn’t care, you didn’t care that he was only pretending; you didn’t care that you could do was blame yourself. You cared so much that you cried so much until your face dried.
“Did you even love me?”
He saves her, he saves her life instead of yours. Though, he watches you as you fall with no sort of emotion in his eyes, you stare at them back; full of betrayal and hate you saved up just for him. You live, you live knowing that he never did truly love you. He lives, he lives too knowing that you will never love him again as you had once before.
He faults once and once again, no longer can he read your face easily as he used to, he cannot find if you are happy or sad, angry or joyous; you walk normally but with nothing left inside of you, soon you will surpass the marriageable age and will be sold off to a man of high status, he feels uneasy at that thought. But he cannot bring himself to talk to you.
When you see him hold her hand, you break a sob. You cover it with your hand- he looks so happy, how dare he. Remain as composed as a lady should, that’s what you should remember. Never let a mere servant bring you to your knees. He hears you though. He knows it’s you and stiffens, Maomao asks him if he’s alright and offers him her arm but suddenly notices what’s wrong. She sees you from the corner of her vision, and quickly lets go of Jinshi and ushers off without a word.
He remains shaken as you walk up to him silently and with grace. He can feel you behind him. “Oh, my Lord, I didn’t know I would find you here on this fine day, what are you doing with that..girl?” You ask. He prays you don’t see him visibly shaking. “Are you alright, my Lord?”
He doesn’t know what to feel, is he alright? Surely he should be, after praying for your return..but something is stopping him from replying- a stone stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking. “I love you, I love you so much and I hate it.”
He doesn’t know why he still holds onto you, no longer does he watch you from afar, but he does question himself sometimes, if he should’ve said it. He remembers your astonished expression, but still he couldn’t read what you were saying from your face. He looks at the stars with a pitiful gaze, how pathetic of him to feel this way. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle my heart myself,” he whispers to himself as the clouds form and rain fall, staining his robes.
He notices you some paces away, staring into nothing- towards the heavens. You look breathtaking. You were beautiful, not like those ladies in story books. You were beautiful for the way you thought, you were beautiful for the way your eyes once sparkled when you talked about something you loved. You were beautiful for the way you could make him smile even if you were dying just a little bit each time. No you wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as your looks, you were beautiful for something deep down in your heart.
You stood there in the rain, its coldness piercing your skin through your thin layers of silk. Jinshi runs towards you, you hardly notice him however. He breaks you so well, so easily as your love was and forever will. Easy to love yet just as easy to break. You can’t love him, you don’t know how to. Love is fleeting, just like birds. One second they’re there, another and they’re gone.
He notices the blood that spreads like wildfire from your chest as you pull out the knife.
“Your love was torture, and I loved it all too much.”
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lostryu · 1 year ago
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i need gay rights because literally not a single self-proclaimed cis/het 'ally' understands the alienating experience that comes with being the only gay person in the workplace.
i am a gnc butch lesbian. i use he/him pronouns. when i came out to my manager regarding my pronouns (i had been an open lesbian since the moment of my hire), she told me that she supported me, but she could not enforce or ask our clients to use the correct pronouns for me. she told me it was something i would have to learn to deal with. she never uses the correct pronouns for me unless a person from a different department (who also happens to be LGBT+) is present. she is our HR in addition to manager.
none of my coworkers in my department ever remember to use my pronouns. if i remind them, they go over the top with the "im sorry's" and the "im still learning" and "you know i try my hardest's!" and "i swear im not homophobic!", it has been over 6 months since i came out. if i say nothing, they continue to use she/her (unless that other lgbt+ person from the other department is present, then they miraculously get it right).
sometimes they call me 'girl'. they always flounder and correct to "man-boy-uh youknowwhatimeanright". they laugh it off. they never bother to ask what terms i am comfortable with, or if i even cared in the first place. they don't care about my gender, they never bother to ask. somehow the subject gets changed every time i try to tell them, or set a boundary.
once in a while in a slow shift, the conversation will hop to our dating lives. somehow, it always jumps to how men suck and how dating a woman must be so much easier. they wish they could be gay and not straight. every time, they'll stare at me expectantly, like i am an animal at the zoo. no matter what i say, positive or negative, i must be lying. i cannot be that happy in my relationship, or if i have any issues, they must be minor. if i say 'why don't you try dating a girl then' to their remarks, they'll laugh, say something like "there is no way i possibly could" with that special tone of disguised disgust.
i am a prop, at work. they tell me about how much they love their kids. how they could bring anyone home and they wouldn't care. "they could be black, brown, or purple," they'll say "it could be a woman or a man! I support gay rights!" Then they will talk about how hungry they are, and how they will be going to Chick Fil a for the 4th time this week. 'as a treat'. it is thursday. they talk about going to Hobby Lobby again for christmas decorations, or another sale. sometimes i think i can taste blood.
its june. they talk about the pride parade and how excited they are to see the queens and their 'funny costumes'. they talk about how fun it is to go and watch, how they like the free things the corporations hand out. they don't want to bring their younger kids though. they're not old enough. they do not know that the first pride was a riot. they do not know what happened during the AIDS crisis, how many died. they don't really care when i try to tell them, they'd rather focus on the fun parts of the parade. the spectacle.
i wear a pronoun pin, to make it easier. still somehow no one can get my pronouns right. a client notices it. commends me for "being brave" and "coming out." she never uses my correct pronouns. i stopped wearing the pin after the 11th person asked me if my name on my name tag was my real one, and after the 45th person went out of their way to use incorrect pronouns every sentence. my manager, the HR, did not care.
i need gay rights, but somehow everything got resolved when they allowed us to marry in 2015. to our allies, the work is done. somehow i am left more alone than when we started.
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benedictscanvas · 2 years ago
Note
Nobody on the BAU team believes Jack Hotchner when he says his father’s new girlfriend is rich and famous. Then they meet her.
A theoretical opening to an Aaron Hotchner x f1 reader if you’re interested, but also no pressure if you don’t vibe with it. I don’t want anything too specific, just happy chosen family shenanigans. Sending all the love to you 💛💛
cute cute cute. as i'm writing this i'm pretty sure i've seen this type of thing before but i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it! so pls let me know if anyone knows and i'll tag them. sending you all the love back anon <3 || 1.5k words, fem!reader
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"Jack, come on man! Has your dad put you up to this?"
"No!" the boy insists, then lowers his voice again, "Dad told me not to tell you, but I couldn't help it."
Derek feels his chest swell with pride until he remembers what Jack's trying to convince him. He narrows his eyes at him again.
"Dave then? Trying to pull one over on me? Just because I switched out his-"
"Derek! I'm telling you the truth. I even have proof," Jack said, eyebrows raised, waiting for Derek to take the bait. His proof was poor at best, but he needed to talk to someone about this.
"Go ahead, kiddo."
Jack pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. Derek waited impatiently, even though he was an inch more intrigued than he had been 30 seconds ago.
When Jack showed him the blurriest photo in existence, that hope was snuffed out immediately.
"Okay, I'm leaving."
Jack grabbed at Derek's arm to make him stay, let him explain and it was enough to catch the attention of the rest of the BAU at their desks. Hotch was in his office, oblivious to the scene, one he would have put a stop to before it started.
"What's Morgan done this time?" JJ asked, making her way over with a smirk. Spence and Emily were listening from their desks too and before Jack could answer, Derek was already speaking.
"No no no, you're not blaming this one on me. Jack's claiming our very own Hotch is dating the Y/N Y/L/N. You know, she's an actress?"
Emily gasped.
"She's not just an actress, she's the actress, thank you Derek. I worship that woman."
"She's pretty amazing," Spencer added.
"Derek," Jack practically whined, "Dad's gonna kill me. I told you in secret!"
"Okay, but you're not serious Jack."
"You can't be."
"I am! So serious. So so serious that you all have to swear you're not gonna tell my dad about this conversation," Jack said, and upon seeing the amused looks of the people that were practically family, he glared at them, "Swear!"
"I swear, Jack," Spencer took pity on him first, but soon JJ and Emily did too, seeing the flush that had travelled up the young boy's neck. He may have grown a lot in his first few years of being a teenager but he kept the same tells that they could all read. Even Derek.
"Alright, alright, I swear too. But when I find out what you're trying to pull, I'm gonna pull something right back. You'll never see it coming, kid."
"Sounds like fighting talk, Jack, you need me to handle this for you?" came a teasing voice, silky smooth, from behind the group. Jack was the only one facing your way, and his face lit up at the sight of you. He went to stand at your side as the rest of them turned to see you in all your glory, smiling at them with that grin that they'd all seen so many times before.
On red carpets. Or movie theatre screens. Never in their office.
"Nah, you're alright Y/N," Jack said, greeting you with a brief but intricate handshake the others couldn't catch in time, "This is Derek, you've heard so much about, and he doesn't believe you're dating my dad."
"Ah, Derek Morgan," you said, enjoying the shock on his face as you said his full name, "You're right to be skeptical, you know. This one ate the last of my cereal this morning, though he swears it wasn't him."
Jack retorts instantly and just like that, the two of you have entered easy banter that the others can't help but sit and stare at. The conversation stops short when Jack bursts out in raucous laughter and you're grinning again, but you quickly turn back to the others.
"I'm so sorry," you say, and it's genuine now without the playful edge, "To show up like this, unannounced, and not even introduce myself. When I practiced this in my head, just know I blew you all away with my first impression."
They all rewarded you with a chuckle and it was enough to put you more at ease.
"I don't think you really need to introduce-"
"Y/N?"
Emily was cut off by another voice behind the group, this time one they knew well from their day to day lives. When they turned, comically in time with one another, they found Hotch at the top of the stairs, brow furrowed as he took the steps downward and walked towards them all.
Or, more accurately, towards you.
"I thought we were meeting you there?" he asked, voice low once he reached you and getting lower still as he murmured, "You don't have to do this, you know."
"I know. I want to," you assure him, eyes all sparkle as you look at him and reach out to briefly squeeze his arm, "Promise."
He nods once, like he's made up his mind. When he turns to the others, he's almost smiling. Spencer finds it a little eerie.
"Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My-" he stops short, and doesn't realise the entirety of his team is revelling in him being so flustered, "We're seeing each other."
"I'm his girlfriend," you supply, shaking your head at Hotch but you can't keep the smile from your face, "He just hates saying it."
"No," he grinds out, looking at you with nothing but fondness despite his warning tone, "It just doesn't cut it. It's not enough."
"What would you prefer?" Derek butts in, "Your significant other? Life partner? Lover?"
"Enough. She's important to me, let's leave it at that, shall we?"
Derek's suggestions had made you chuckle but Hotch's assertion had made you positively beam. JJ could read it all over her face. She'd moved past being starstruck and into being incredibly happy for Hotch.
"Jack I think we all owe you an apology man," Derek began, then winced and corrected himself when Emily elbowed him right in the ribs, "And especially me. I really thought you were kidding me."
"Jack, you told them?"
Hotch's voice is still stern, but this time directed towards his son. Derek winces again, knowing he's put his foot in his mouth as Jack's shoulders slump. Still glowing, you come to his rescue.
"Oh, Aaron, he's just happy for you," you say placatingly, a hand at his back, a reassurance, before you turn to the team, "It was me who wanted to keep this quiet, not Aaron. I was trying to protect him from my life, but I think I kept it up a little too long. That's why I'm here."
Spencer thinks Hotch might be glowing too. You, you're all ethereal anyway, and there's the essence of something angelic about you, but you seem to have pulled Hotch into your orbit. He's definitely smiling now, just a little. Spencer is trying not to frown at the difference of it all.
"You don't mind that I told them?"
"Not even a bit, Jackaroo," you chuckle when he rolls his eyes fondly at the nickname, "Been wanting to show your dad off for an awful long time, really."
It's cloying, really, the way you hang onto his forearm as you say it, but he's drinking up every drop you send his way. He even goes as far as to rest a hand on your own arm in return, and keeps you close.
"Other way round, sweetheart," he mutters, in some vain hope only you will hear him. He doesn't get his wish. As soon as somebody sighs wistfully, he's stiff again, back straight, "But I think we've shown off enough for one day. Lunch?"
Jack nods enthusiastically, still seeming relieved that you've helped him avoid any scolding, not that Hotch is very good at that, surprisingly. You nod too, sending a last sweet smile to the whole team and insisting that now they've met you, they won't be able to get rid of you. Another round of chuckles.
Emily insists they won't want to get rid of you and she's a little too eager. A little too superfan. If you notice, you don't show it, only saying goodbye to her with an extra warm hug that she can't shake off.
The three of you head off, you still hanging off Hotch's arm, your cheek now smushed against his shoulder. But he's silent, and you're blabbering away with Jack again, more laughter. When they get into the elevator and Derek cranes his head, he can see the real smile on Hotch's face and he gets a little choked up.
"Well shit," he says to the others, coughing it away, "That's me not getting any real work done today."
"You can say that again," somebody says, and soon they've devolved into sitting on desks and gossiping right into the afternoon.
When Dave and Penelope trudge back in after their early lunch to the commotion of everyone's reactions after you'd left, Dave simply asks them how they didn't know sooner. They're not surprised.
And if Penelope cries a little at the thought of just missing you, you'll never know. She has the others sworn to secrecy.
(hotch doesn't return at all)
if you'd like to request something, please do so here! i'd love to hear from you sunflower <3
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jujutsubaby · 10 months ago
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after hours (part 2)
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☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader, toji fushiguru x afab!reader ☆ summary: you update your friends and they cannot believe what happened between you and toji. but one of you friends, satoru gojo, is acting weirder than usual...could it be? nooo, nooo, it can't...right? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! dirty talk, implied power dynamic, sexual tension ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: sorry for the lack of smut but i swear it'll be worth in the next part 😈 but hope you enjoy the love triangle between toji, gojo, and y/n that's forming! spoiler alert: there miiiight be a potential three way coming soooon ~ ahaha i don't wanna say anything 🤭 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤
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"NO. FUCKIN'. WAY...", shoko gasps, jaw open, as you tell her about what happened last night with toji over a matcha latte with oatmilk. you take a sip, savoring the earthy, bitter beverage, and give shoko a serious look.
you, shoko, and your friends always grab beverages from cafe amanai every morning, serving as a meeting point for everyone's busy lives. usually, it's used to air out mild inconveniences, from poor grades to missing keys, but today, it is being used to dissect what the hell happened between you and toji last night, to your obvious dismay.
"yeah, and now i'm getting dinner with him and megumi and going to his parent teacher conference." you say, looking slightly distraught, as you contemplate the ramifications of hooking up with your extremely attractive neighbor. "was this a bad idea?"
"was what a bad idea?"
you and shoko whip around to find satoru gojo strolling to your table, wearing his signature black round glasses and unruly white hair. he glides down in the seat next to you, literally butting his head into the conversation.
you sigh deeply and slowly sink your head onto the table surface, knowing full well that once satoru gets up to speed, he's never going to shut up about it. "ohhhh satoru, don't make me say it again..." you whine.
"let's wait until suguru comes back from flirting with the barista to tell them. i don't wanna update them twice." shoko kindly offers, patting your head and softly running her fingers through your scalp.
your head shoots up the minute your hear about suguru flirting. according to satoru, suguru never drank coffee until the day riko complimented his bangs, and ever since then, suguru would do everything in his power to stop by cafe amanai and order a latte. in the process, you, shoko, and gojo got unbearably perplexed at the idea of the suguru geto, the hoity-toity moral compass of the group, having a crush, on not just anyone, but the cafe owner, and everyone's favorite barista: the gorgeous, raven-haired riko amanai. you all really try to be subtle, everyone craning their necks in unnatural directions, trying to decipher what embarrassingly awful one-liner suguru was going to say to riko instead of just asking her out.
"can you guys not embarrass me for just one day at this place? just one. it's all i'm asking for." suguru says sorely, popping out from the opposite direction of where you all were staring, startling everyone into mumbled apologies ("i wasn't even looking", "had to stretch my neck after benching 300", "i don't even care about you and riko").
"anyway, now tell us...what's the bad idea?" gojo prods, grinning at the excitement of restarting the gossip session. oh my god, why is he so nosy?
"i mean, okay, it's complicated so don't judge me and i really don't know how it happened but-" you start, before shoko cuts you off.
"y/n fucked our hot neighbor, toji. remember him? the one i was telling you about that probably is a gigolo-"
"shoko, he is NOT a gigolo! stop saying that about him!" you say irately. "he probably has...some respectable job that...is classified or...something", you defend, trying your hardest to defend toji in front of your friends. why were you so keen on defending this guy after one random hookup?
"the one who's son you BABYSIT for?!" suguru yells incredulously a bit too loudly, that results in your shooting daggers at him. "y/n, you have to know this is some fucked up power dynamic thing, right? he's paying you to babysit his son. there's no way what you're doing will end well." suguru chastises, scrunching his eyebrows in genuine concern.
"so about that..." you start, realizing just now how idiotic you're about to sound admitting that he has not paid you for the past week and decide to pivot. "it's just babysitting, suguru, okay? chill, it's not that serious."
"also, he hasn't paid her at all last week." shoko states nonchalantly. you give her a crestfallen look, wishing she had said quite literally anything but that.
satoru, who had been suspiciously silent up until now, roars in laughter hearing this, while suguru groans. "wait hold on. you're telling me people pay him to be a gigolo but you're giving him that pussy for free?" satoru says in between breaths, clearly finding your predicament more than amusing.
"i'm going to kill you guys." you say, rubbing your temples, already trying to remedy the headache at bay.
"poor y/n," shoko teases, "she's not ready to be a step-mom." she chuckles as you narrow your eyes at her. "kidding!" she smiles, with her hands up, feigning any remorse. everyone, including youself, start laughing lightly at the situation you're in, and you notice shoko's eyes widen with excitement and warmth as she sees utahime walk into cafe amanai. "utahime!" she waves, catching utahime's attention. utahime darts over to your table and plops next to shoko, and do something that shocks satoru and suguru to their core. aww, look, they're kissing! oh wait no, they're fully making out. oh, they should get a room.
"excuse me?!" gojo, who is so baffled by the sight in front of him that his sungalsses are completely off, says.
shoko and utahime break out of their short kiss, and utahime narrows her eyes at satoru as if he was a pest (you have to admit, he sometimes is), seemingly annoyed by his intrusion. "oh umm, this is utahime, as you guys know. um, she and i are dating. that's all." shoko taciturnly says. "anyway, we have to go, now." she turns to you. "i'll see you at home and you better tell us everything." you laugh and nod, standing up to give utahime a quick hug before they left.
you turn around to two stunned faces, as you explain to them that shoko and utahime had been dating for over a month now, and that they did not tell either of them because, well, they were both a bit obnoxious, especially together.
"just because you're right doesn't mean i'm any less shocked!" suguru says, eyes still wide and processing the fact that one of his best friends was dating someone and he had no clue. "okay, i actually don't even have time to process this right now. i have to make copies for the class i'm TA-ing for." suguru says, as he quickly throws his untouched cup of coffee into the trash and speeds out. "see ya." he waves before he speeds out of the cafe.
you sigh tiredly, knowing that whenever you're alone with satoru, things get...a bit weird. you guys are friends, of course, but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the tension in the air abruptly change slightly when it was just you two. there were plenty of times when you went over to satoru's and played video games or drank beers like the old school friends you were, but it would always end veeery touchy feely (like the time you fell asleep with your head on his lap or that one time he said it would be a good idea to cuddle "for warmth" because the heat was broken).
but this was just because you guys were like, super super good friends, though...right? in any case, you knew for a fact you and satoru were not into each other because you both fooled around with other people, so case closed.
"so...how was it?" satoru asks, with a stupid grin on his face. you can sense he's about egg you on about something you did not want to talk about, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"how was what?" you say, shifting in your seat slightly and playing with your fingers. you take a sip of your lukewarm matcha as you turn to look at satoru.
"how was the sex with toji?" satoru clarifies. you almost choke on your matcha, but quickly regain your composure.
"wouldn't you like to know, lover boy." you say, slightly annoyed and yet bemused why satoru would even ask that question. ugh, why does he even care? can't he let this go? he was the one making fun of you the most about this anyway!
"woah, okay sorry for trying to make sure you at least had fun before you made a bad decision with some broke dude who doesn't have a real job." satoru says, raising his hands defeat and putting his sunglasses back, obscuring his bright blue eyes that always made you wish you could stare at them forever. wait, what?
"he allegedly doesn't have a job, okay. and also, being a gigolo, allegedly, is still a job." you say, once again baffling yourself as to why you're feeling so defensive of toji, especially more so in front of satoru. why is he being so weird about this? you've told him about guys you've slept with before and he barely even cared.
"what are we? in court?" he snorts, shaking his head slightly in amusement.
"why do you care?" you accuse, finishing up the last sips of your matcha before setting the cup down and anxiously playing with your fingers.
"i don't care...i just..." satoru trails off, as if thinking about what he wants to say next carefully. "i just wanna make sure he's treating you well, that's all."
"well, if you must know, we didn't have sex." you respond, your heart beating a bit faster as you're borderline talking about raunchy activities in public.
"whadcha guys do?," satoru asks shamelessly.
at this point, you're so over satoru's bullshit. "he ate me out okay! what other personal stuff do you want to know about me? how would you feel if i asked you how many times a day you jerk off, huh? not so amusing now is it?!"
"did you cum?" he asks. his smile is beaming and he's holding back a chuckle, as he enjoys seeing you getting all riled up because of him. he knows he's pushing your buttons, but he just can't stop. it's too fun. and you look too cute when you're angry at him.
"you're so fucking unbelievable!" you spit, as you abruptly get up and grab you empty cup of matcha and your bag, heading towards the exit. entering the bustling city, you see satoru catching up to you in your peripheral and walk even faster to the crosswalk, but not fast enough. satoru catches up from behind easily and places his hands on your shoulder, as you whip around and give him a death glare.
"what do you want?!" you ask irately.
"umm...i'm your ride to class, remember?" satoru says sheepishly, flashing you a grin.
could this get any worse? you roll your eyes. he is correct, and technically you could take the bus but it'll make you too late for your class, and walking is just out of the question. you sigh in annoyance. "where's your car?"
the walk to satoru's porche is short, but within that time, you both manage to make up as you always do. such is the waves your guys' relationship rides: daunting when it happens, but calm once the storm passes over. by the time you're at satoru's car, you both are laughing hysterically.
"fuck off! no way suguru said that to riko!" you exclaim, responding to satoru telling you that suguru responded to riko's "good morning" with the biography of his barber who cuts his bangs.
"his ass folds so easily when it comes to his bangs," satoru says as he turns on the ignition and starts driving. satoru thinks about the first time he met suguru and how they got into a minor argument because his bangs were the first thing satoru noticed. satoru's mind wanders, and he thinks about the first thing he noticed about you: your smile and laughter. the way you tuck your hair behind your ears whenever you get anxious, the way you play with the ends of your hair when you're flirting and you think you're being subtle, the way your nose scrunches when you're concentrating deeply, and especially the way you, without fail, always fall asleep leaning against him during movie nights.
"hey, y/n," satoru starts softly, "you busy tonight? thinkin' we study for our final next week and maybe watch a movie. have you watched saltburn yet?"
"ohmygod i haven't but i really want to!" you say excitedly, thinking about how shoko has been begging you to watch that movie since it came out. wait, parent teacher night. you frown. "oh wait actually, i'm not free tonight, but let's do tomorrow?" you offer sweetly, praying satoru for once is not nosy enough to ask what you're doing instead tonight.
"whatcha doing instead tonight?" he asks without skipping a beat.
"...i'm babysitting tonight." it's not use lying at this point, but you know it's embarrassing to say you're getting dinner with his son and going to a parent teacher conference.
"oh right, the thing you do for free now", satoru says, rolling his eyes. he could egg you on and press your buttons again. he hasn't decided if he will again just yet.
you decide to change the subject, not wanting to start yet another argument with him. "anyway, you wanna head to the barcade tomorrow before the theater to get drinks and hang? i think shoko and utahime are coming and they said something about inviting suguru, too" you ask, knowing full well what his answer will be.
"how could you fucking ask me that? how could you ask me if i want to go to the only barcade in this city after what fucking happened to me the last time i went there?!" he accuses you. you sense the irateness of his voice, knowing full well this is how he gets whenever you bring up the local barcade with him.
basically, earlier this summer, the four of you went to the flashing new barcade that opened downtown, thinking you would all have a couple drinks and play some arcade games. according to satoru -- you and shoko were, at the time, dry heaving in the bathroom from one too many AMFs (satoru's idea) -- some guy came in with his kid (you still didn't really believe this part because how was a kid allowed in a bar?) and not only "bullied satoru" (satoru's words), but also made off with his drink and tickets. you still aren't really sure what the big deal is, but you find it funny, nontheless, seeing satoru still get sour about that barcade.
"geez, sorry, i didn't know you were still upset about it." you say, raising your hands and eyebrows in defeat.
"i literally talk about it once a day in the group chat. i was finally gonna get you that jigglypuff plushie you always wanted with those tickets!" satoru confesses, and you almost feel a bit bad for him. almost.
"well, you can try again tomorrow night then", you wink, before satoru pulls up in front of the building where your class is. you hear satoru humph in defeat, and you know you'll see him tomorrow night at the barcade. you thank satoru for the ride, but right before you close the door, he calls out your name.
"hey y/n also, sorry 'bout earlier at the cafe.", he says (he doesn't sound sorry at all, you think. this is definitely a ruse to say something stupid), "but i needed to tell you something before you left. the answer is two but if i'm bored, probably three."
you stare at him blankly. what was he on about? "what?" you say, perplexed.
"it's how many times i jerk off in a day. just thought i should let you know since you asked," he says, with a cheeky smile on his face. cue something stupid! bingo!
"bye satoru." you say immediately, closing the door of his porch and crossing the street. god, satoru was one of the most annoying people you knew. why does your face feel so hot?
you try really hard not to think about what satoru just said, knowing he was just being his usual cheeky self. satoru touches himself twice a day? when does he do it? in the morning? who does he think of? does he think of you? what the fuck, y/n -- think about something else? remember you came all over toji's face?
woah, okay. that was a lot, even for you. you have no idea where that thought came from, and you're pretending like it never happened. you're pretending like your panties aren't getting damp thinking about satoru's flushed face and his large fingers reaching down and grasping his hard, veiny -
your thoughts are interrupted by a text on your phone:
toji: see ya soon, pumpkin. wear somethin' nice for me, yeah? ;)
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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 6 months ago
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Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.
Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)
The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.
I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.
I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.
I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.
Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.  
I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self.  She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her. 
The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.  
You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.
I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.
This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.
So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.
She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.  
She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.
Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?
Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job. 
She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.
The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"
It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?
I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative. 
She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.  
It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?  
In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.  
I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.  
I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.  
I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work. 
Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye
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ingo-ingoing-ingone · 6 months ago
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A Personal Post
Hi guys, I'm finally making the post I kept telling myself and my best friends I'd make but wanted to put it off until I felt better. That hasn't happened and with how things are going I thought it was best to just post it now.
So for a while, since probably late 2023, I've felt less like my blog is for me, and more like it's some kind of fandom archive. Which, if you use it this way as-is, great! I'm glad my blog could make you happy like that! But that's not what I set out for it to be.
I'm the sort of neurodivergent person who likes to categorize things, including my interests. All my tumblr blogs are specific to one thing, and this one was no exception.
I began tagging things soon after I made the blog because I saw a lot of people were sad about the twins, and I thought "well since I love both sad and happy stuff, and I'm really good about categorizing things, maybe I can try and help!" And according to many, it did help!
But I think that also gave off the impression that I was making this blog for other folks, and that isn't the case. I'm sorry I never clarified. It's not an archive; I do not reblog shipping posts, posts from people I've blocked, AUs I don't click with, and sometimes just not everything I see.
I've gotten popular in the fandom, and for the most part I do, from the bottom of my heart, enjoy it. I have people who care about my hyperfixation! That's amazing! I have people who love my cosplay and want to meet up with me. I've made so many friends of all shapes and sizes and it's probably the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, truth be told.
But yeah my blog being mine has gotten away from me a bit, I think.
I want to keep tagging my submas tags, that isn't going to change. I will tag triggers when asked, unless it's kind of impossible due to the blog's subject (trains, for instance) or a name or really common word (like the word 'head' or something). Other than that please reach out and I'll do my best to remember. But other tags? Those will be up to me. I don't want to tag when OCs show up. I love OCs and like seeing them, and don't want to have to remember that one person who visits my blog doesn't.
I had anon off for a while because honestly ever since making this blog, there have been anons who really made me unhappy. (Also yes, non-anons but that's been fewer and far between). I've gotten misinformation, accusations, horrible and disgusting explicit asks, and criticisms and complaints, and I'm just... Not here for that. Keep the explicit things and misinfo out of my inbox, I am no arbiter of morality or personal decisions, and I am not here for you to share your negative opinions of submas or the fandom.
Anon is on for people who are too self conscious to chat face to face, for people to send fun headcanon ideas (remember when people did that back in 2022 when this blog started? I miss that, it was sweet and wholesome), to share song recommendations... That kind of stuff. If you have an actual problem, please, PLEASE talk to me off anon, whether that be DMs or a non-anon ask that I can answer privately. Especially if we're friends; please, please just talk to me about stuff. I don't bite! I swear!
But yeah the bottom line is I'm here to participate in fun (and sometimes heartbreaking!) fandom stuff. I'm here for FUN, not as my job. I know that we're all a bunch of neurodivergent folks and sometimes interactions can be a swing and a miss, but please try to be mindful. Please treat me like a person and not just like a museum curator for this blog.
Truth is, I haven't been okay for a while now. It's gotten worse this year for sure, and due to life stuff I cannot see things feeling better for me for some time. I need to go day by day for a lot of things, and I am trying to get better about needing to set boundaries and all that sort of thing. I suffer from intense paranoia too, and having so many eyes on me is genuinely terrifying at times. I'm trying to manage that as best I can, but I do ask that folks be kind.
NO I am not going anywhere, my blog is staying and will continue on as normal, but I really, really needed to get this posted.
Please continue to interact with me and chat and everything like that! But also please remember to treat this space, my blog, as my space. Thanks for reading!
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changingplumbob · 3 months ago
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Consider this your intro to Silver. It recaps events written by @cawthorntales from Grayson's point of view here, as well as details given in Silver's visit to Grayson. Once again all the lore of this world comes from his imagination, I'm just riffing off of it.
Willow Creek was an odd place. While Windenburg, Britechester and Henford-on-Bagley focused their architecture on stone, most of Willow Creek was wooden. It was as if the settlers had decided to show off just how many trees they could cut down. The first time Silver had visited here it looked rather different. The trees had stretched down to the river and the houses were few and far between. Foundry Cove had been a clean sweep from the canal to the railroad, now there were houses.
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Silver gazed in to the fire and tried to calm down. Seeing Grayson had been the right thing, he was certain. Even if it was hard for him it was best for Grayson. He loved his brother, he had been his favourite person before everything happened. It was right to have put him first.
Silver remembered one night in Moonwood when there had been a fierce storm. Their father had always told them they needed to be strong, infallible, but the thunder sounded like hunters and he was terrified. His whimpering woke up his older brother who came and hopped in his bed. Silver tried to protest, dad would get so mad, but Grayson promised him he wouldn't fall asleep. Grayson watched over him so he could rest, and swore he'd be back in his own bed before dad could catch them. He was true to his word.
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Grayson had always had his back, but when the time came Silver didn't have his. The hunters had gotten bolder, and more violent, wiping out packs and leaving a trail of bodies far bigger than any the werewolves were responsible for. They had caught his dad and four other pack members, forcing his older brother into the role of alpha at sixteen.
Their dad had always pushed the importance of maintaining the pack. To Grayson that meant mounting an attack on the hunters compound. Silver begged to go with him but Grayson insisted he go with their mother and most of the pack into hiding. When he hugged Grayson goodbye and joined the group howl sending off their alpha and their twenty fiercest members, he felt sure he'd see him in less than a day. He was wrong.
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Silver had waited with the lookouts at the edge of the emergency hiding zone, waiting. The lookouts slept in shifts but Silver was determined to stay awake, for his brother and his father, he could be a stubborn fourteen year old. When they appeared on the horizon it was clear the group was smaller. Much, much smaller. Neither his brother or father were in it. When they got close enough to talk Silver asked Francine if they had survived the hunters.
Francine: They're alive but... your dad is talking to Grayson. He'll be back soon
Relieved and exhausted Silver went back to his mom and fell asleep. He had thought Francine meant Grayson would be back soon. She didn't.
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He remembered waking up to yelling, his mom and dad were fierce when they got going, dealing verbal blows to each other.
Mom: How could you? He will die out there on his own. He's just a boy, he can't survive the hunters
Dad: He was sentimental and selfish. He should have left me but instead his recklessness cost us sixteen pack members, an alpha cannot put self interest before the pack. He's no son of mine
Mom: Tell me you didn't say that. Francine said he was hurt, he needs to be with us
Dad: I'm the alpha and what I say is law. He is not to set foot here again
Mom: I'll find him, I will
Dad: You bring him back and I swear I will rip his heart out myself
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That's when Silver's training started. Grayson had always been meant to be the alpha and had received the bulk of their dad's attention. Silver was happy to simply tag along and mimic the training Grayson was getting, a smaller shadow. But with Grayson gone their dad honed in on him like a missile. Early mornings, late nights, relentless exercise and lectures on how his brother had failed them. His dad passed on his skills sure, but he also passed on his rage.
Silver's heart had truly broken when his mom had been killed. On a search for Grayson she had been captured by hunters, the wife of an alpha was a trophy prize. The nature of the pack changed then. What had once been caring and supportive became strained and distrustful, his dad telling anyone in hearing how Grayson was to blame.
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Eventually his dad got careless and the hunters got him to. It should have been up to Silver to keep the pack intact, strong, but he'd felt there was nothing left to save. It fell apart, and he carried on alone. The more he thought about it over the years the more he began to think that his dad had been wrong, Grayson hadn't been to blame. If Silver had been the older one he would have done the same thing.
So he went through life, moving from place to place, feeling the weight of guilt grow heavy. Guilt for believing his brother, his best friend, could have ever acted against the interest of the pack. Guilt that he hadn't been with his mom when she was captured, he would have been a better prize for the hunters and she would be alive. Then, more than a century later, he was sat in a bar when he saw his brother on TV. He was alive! And more than that he was looking for love.
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At first Silver couldn't stop himself crying with joy, the barkeep threw him out assuming he'd had too much. He had set out for Henford, determined to make things right. The closer he got, the more his guilt whispered in his ears. Sure that Grayson wouldn't forgive him he camped out near the house, just far enough to not be detected, and caught up on the show in one of the more run down pubs. He thought Glenn was rather cute and hoped he would get far, even if a little voice inside him dreaded Glenn winning, he liked seeing him. Clive though, he was always putting his brother first, Silver was grateful for that. Grayson was different from what he remembered, and Silver had to stop himself howling in anguish when his scar was revealed. Mom had been right, he was injured. When Grayson chose Clive Silver knew it was time to stop hiding, he had to go face his brother.
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It went better than he expected. Grayson forgave him! But he had to tell him what happened to the pack and their parents. That's the thing about grief, you think you've got it handled then you have to tell someone a soul is gone and all the feelings rise to the surface again. He had to get out of there. He loved Grayson, but his brother was rebuilding his life, growing his own family and Silver couldn't bear to destroy it with his his own issues. So he'd done what he'd made a habit of doing, he ran away. The woods in Willow Creek may be smaller but he had some good memories here, hopefully the air would help him stabilise. Normally he camped out in the park but when he passed it this time he felt a strange aversion, like it would be wrong or dangerous to go there. He was sure it was just in his mind, soon he would go there and push through the discomfort. The view of the river there had always soothed his soul.
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mercurywritesstuff · 10 months ago
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Love, Noona: Chapter 1
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pairing: Chan x fem!reader genre: smau, Forbidden love, Best friends sister trope, Idol x Idol pov: 1st person texts, 2nd person writing warnings: Swearing, suggestive-ish, typical sibling violence, drug mention summary: Chan has a one night stand with a girl he couldn't remember the name of, but he gets the shock of his life when the girl turns out to be his subordinate. Oh, and also she's Felix's older sister.
Taglist Status: Open! (36 spots available left) Taglist: @freyjhasdesiredreality, @partyparty-yah, @jediturtlelover, @highlydestiny, @lixie-phoria, @silverstarburst, @sandandstarz , @massivesoyeondelusion , @spiceyhamcat, @fishlane75, @gini143, @palindrome969, @lakoya, @i-dont-know-me-either
(Red names mean I cannot tag you for some reason) word count: 1.1k screenshot count: 7 Songs for this chapter: Girl on TV⋆ HONEY(ARE YOU COMING?)
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You had gone to the JYP building, face burning with shame. How could you let someone sleep with you as easily as he did, while drunk? Let alone your superior?? Don’t even mention the fact that he is her coworker and little brother’s best friend. 
You felt awful for letting yourself get caught up on your horny feelings. Sure, you hadn’t had a partner for years, but that didn’t mean you could fuck the nearest thing that was somewhat interested in you. And to top it off, you completely lied to your friends. You remembered everything. The way his skin felt, and the pleasure he gave you. 
God, you were pathetic. 
Yong-Mi grabbed your arm, shaking you out of that self-deprecating headspace. Her mouth was moving, and it took you a second to register that it was Korean. Right, you know Korean. 
“Unnie, are you listening?” Yong-Mi asked, looking into your dazed expression. Respond, damnit. 
“Sorry, I was in my head a little. What happened?” You cursed yourself internally at the tone your voice took. It cracked slightly, wavering just a little. Yong-Mi didn’t seem fazed, however. 
“I’ll grab water if you want to get the rest of the girls stretched and warmed up. Half of us is going into the studio while the other half is practicing with Danceracha.” Sometimes, Yong-Mi was more of a leader than you were. She would’ve been a better leader, you thought. 
“Okay, sounds fun.” You forced a smile, and Yong-Mi gave you a look that she knew. She knew about the way you talked down to yourself. She pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on your head. Sometimes, you forget that you were considered tall for a female idol, and these are the times you forget. Yong-Mi always did that to you. 
The moment you stepped into practice room eight, you had to cover your ears at the yelling rapping competition Sang-hee and Soo had to have. They were always so fucking loud.  
“Unnie!” Jin-Ae, your youngest member, ran to you and ducked to give you a quick hug. She loved to give bits of skin ship, opposed to cuddles and long hugs, but not opposed to your side hugs.  
“Girls!” Your voiced boomed; Soo and San-hee stopped almost immediately. The girls always did that, listen to you at the start of each workday. It was only a matter of time they would either get too hyper or too pissed off: either way, it was going to end with someone yelling. 
“Thirty minutes till the boys get here. Time to warm up.” 
⋆⋆⋆ 
Yong-mi joined five minutes after you started warming up the group. You had done ten minutes of yoga, and the rest of the time was spent copying some dances you guys found on the internet. Your group manager and personal manager, Ha-Yoon and So-mi respectively, joined sometime in the mix. They were filming for the YouTube docuseries JYP had oh-so-graciously thought of. Great, now you must be professional even in your down-time. 
A knock rapped three times, causing the eight of you to quiet down, standing as the door opened. One-by-one, eight grown men filled the room, and when the eight were in, you all bowed to greet them. Except you. 
Your eyes zeroed in on Chan, your face flushing. Yong-Mi had to physically make you bow, you had frozen. Chan seemed to have the same effect you had. His face flushing at the sight of you, eyes widening with recognition. You bent down to grab your water, taking large gulps. You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and you found Felix booking it for you. 
“Felix, no, I have water-” And just like that, your water is spilt on the ground and you're cradling your grown but younger brother. He was laughing in his deep voice, to which you narrowed your eyes. He realized her fucked up, but before he could say anything, you dropped him on his ass. He groaned, mixed with his laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. 
“Y/nnnie that hurt~” He whined, and you raised an eyebrow at his pouting face. Growing up with him, his puppy dog eyes always worked on you. Not now, though. You had Jin-Ae to thank for that. And Sun-Hee. Everyone except Yong-Mi, you were immune to their puppy dog eyes. 
“Well, it wouldn’t have hurt if you weren’t such a galah.” You had spoken in English, your members looking at you confused at the slang word. You only used Korean in the group, being the only English speaker. Felix whined again. “Apologize to me and the poor water bottle you forced me to spill.” You smirked, playing with him to see how far he would go. 
“Sorry, noona.” He spat, getting a chortle in response from you. You helped him up, before wiping the dust off his pants. 
“Y’know, you really shouldn’t speak to your superior like that, Y/nnnie.” Felix smirked. 
“I will make it very embarrassing for you in front of your friends, Yongbok.” You held up your fist and grounded it into the palm of your hand; a threat that you wouldn’t mind going through with. 
He squeaked, running up to Hyunjin. They were all prettier in person, cameras not really giving them justice. You remembered the first time you saw them perform, and you were awestruck by your little brother and his group. You had wished to find a group like his when you debuted. In a way, you did. But God, were they like little kids when not working. 
⋆⋆⋆ 
“Okay! Soo, Sun-Hi, Su-Bin, and Jin, you will go with Bang Chan, Han, Lee know, and Changbin seonbaenim to the studio. The rest of you guys, you’re with me.” You had ordered your group, all listening intently. 
“Haha,” Sang-Hee giggled, and you glared at her to calm down. She rolled her eyes back, before doing a little dance. You smiled a little, much to your dismay.  
You and Chan had yet to interact, which you were grateful for. You could barely look at the man before you were filled with too much embarrassment. 
How were you going to work with him for the next three months? 
... 
Chan was freaking out. Sure, he hadn’t remembered the girl from the night before that much, only remembering how she smelt, how she tasted. But looking at the leader from PLAYground, all those memories came flying back. Oh, God. He was screwed. 
He excused himself to the bathroom, letting Han take over for the recording part. He sat in the private room, trying to quell the memories away. He did not want to look at his colleague that way. His subordinate. His best friend’s sister. 
How was he going to survive these next months? 
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