#i was unsure about her shirt color
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qursidae · 21 days ago
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Me @ myself: Imma do a quick Miyako sketch cause she on my mind
4 hours later at 3 am:
[Carrd 🃏]
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cherryredcheol · 2 months ago
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"ducky"
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tldr: all the way joshua uses your nickname a/n: i like this one (⸝⸝๑ ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝)
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whispers: when he’s trying to gossip 
“ducky” you barely hear him over the music inside the venue, party in full swing around you. you are watching the dance floor, amused by watching your friends act like fools, but you can never ignore him; so you turn around to face him, confused as to why he’s speaking so softly in such a loud place. when your eyes meet, he smiles at you, full of love. only when you raise an eyebrow does he remember why he came up to you in the first place. 
“he’s is sleeping with her best friend. i just found out.” he continues to whisper, despite the music being almost deafening. your eyes widen to saucers, unbelieving that he actually got confirmation of a rumor that had been floating around about some friend of a friend’s sleazy boyfriend. you’re about to ask how he found out when–
“in fact: he's sleeping with her roommate too.” your mouth gapes, this was not something you’d heard before. You can always count on him to tell you the good tea. when people told him not to tell anyone, it never included you. he told you everything. “what do you think about that, ducky?”
shouts in the mic: across an empty stadium 
“everybody, welcome to the stage: ducky!” the venue was empty of any carat, thank god. you only wanted to visit him at the venue before caratland the next day, knowing this would be your only opportunity to be up on the stage with him. he’d been asking you to come by so he could show you what it felt like. he wanted to show you the lights and let you experience this part of his life. 
“don’t be shy now, you were excited about this!” he teased, without the mic, when you reached him on the large stage. your eyes widened when you looked out over the stadium. the sheer number of seats was so intimidating, and to think of the seats filled with bodies was incomprehensible. 
“here, hold the mic.” he passed you the white, bedazzled mic. it was heavier than you expected. you could see your arm getting tired holding this thing to your mouth for too long. you looked over at him, unsure of what to do next. he raised a brow at you, gesturing for you to, “sing something for me, ducky.”
echoes: just to see you blush
“ducky, ducky, ducky!”  he was so happy to see you walk through the door of seungcheol’s apartment. they had all been waiting for you to start the movie queued up on the screen, at his insistence. you loved movie night with his fellow 95s and he knew you’d like the movie they’d picked to watch. 
“how was your day, ducky?” he got up from the couch to greet you properly, overusing the cute petname just to see you flush, knowing it made you embarrassed around his members. he lived to tease you, to see your coloring change, and the little crease between your eyebrows appears. he loves it. 
“oh, ducky, i hope it was good.” he wraps his arms around you in a hug, clinging tightly. he hated being apart from you, even if it was just for your shift at work. movie night was always something he looked forward to, all his favorite people in one place. he leans to whisper in your ear, “i’m so happy to see you, ducky.”
garbles: after too many shots
“ducky” he slurs, the music in the bar so loud you can barely hear him. you’re chatting with mingyu, but you feel him tug on your shirt sleeve. you excuse yourself from your conversation and turn to see him, eyes droopy and a dopey smile on his face. you’d been apart for about 20 minutes and you knew he’d come back to you all gooey and lovey. 
“come home with me. i’ll call the car.” he was glued to your side, arm around your waist, head buried in your neck. you could’ve stayed out a little longer but he wanted to leave and he was being so sweet, how could you tell him no? agreeing to leave and go home with him, his face lit up. he whipped his phone out of his pocket.
“will you order the car? i don’t think i can see straight.” he held his phone out to you, confident you could do this for him. his only focus in this moment was getting even closer to you he looked like he was about to fall asleep, eyes closed, head on your shoulder. he turned his head, pressing s gentle kiss to your shoulder, “thank you, ducky.”
sing-songs: when he gets home
“ducky~” he called out to you, knowing his voice would carry through the apartment. and sure enough, moments later he heard your quick steps across the floors, hurrying your way to him. he took a moment to pry his shoes off, not wanting to track any dirt inside. he was so preoccupied, he didn’t notice your steps had stopped. standing up from his bent position, he jumped slightly, finally seeing you, a smile stretching across his face after the initial scare.
“i missed you.” he reaches out to you, wanting to hold you in his arms after a few weeks apart. he loved his job, but leaving you behind was like a knife in the heart every time. this tour was fun but he longed for you the entire time he was gone. he held back some tears as he stood with you in the entryway to your apartment, rocking gently back and forth. 
“i am so happy to be home with you.” you could tell he meant it, hear the emotion in his voice. he rocks you a little longer and holds you a little tighter, not wanting the moment to end, to be separated again. you respond in kind, tightening your arms around his waist, burring your face deeper into his chest. “next time you’re coming with me, ducky.” 
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lxvsiick · 2 months ago
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I NAMED A FISH AFTER YOU | KIM LEEHAN X READER
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PAIRING: childhood best friend! kim leehan x childhood best friend! fem! reader
SUMMARY: Moving into a new neighborhood, 8 year old Y/n meets a boy who really likes fish on her way to the park.
GENRE: childhood best friends, fish, fluff
WORDCOUNT: 2.8k
A/N: a little leehan short story/imagine because i was thinking about fishes and found this picture of leehan -- he looks so cute showing off his fish charms ,, also -- i'm so tempted to publish part 1 of O U R ,, i have 15 parts in my drafts . . .
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The sun was bright and warm in Busan as the eight-year-old Y/n skipped along the sidewalk of her new neighborhood. Her family had just moved in the week before, and today, she was finally free to explore. A park sat just down the street, and she could already imagine the swings and slides waiting for her. But as she approached the park, something else caught her attention.
By a small pond near the edge of the park, a boy around her age was sitting cross-legged, staring intently at the water. His messy hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care. Curious, she wandered over, crouching down next to him.
“What’re you looking at?” she asked, her voice light with interest.
Without turning his head, the boy pointed at the water. “Fishes,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
Y/n tilted her head. “Fishes? What about them?”
“They’re cool,” he replied. “This one’s a bluegill, and that one over there is a pumpkinseed. See the way they swim? And if you watch them long enough, you can see how they’re different from the others. Fishes are smart. Way smarter than people think.”
Y/n stared at him, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re kinda weird.”
“Thanks,” he said, still not looking at her. “I like fishes.”
She blinked at him, unsure what to make of the boy who would rather talk about pond creatures than, well, anything else. “Do you wanna be friends?”
He finally turned his head to look at her, his expression blank. “I’d rather be friends with fishes.”
Y/n crossed her arms. “Well, you can’t be friends with fishes. They can’t talk, and they don’t have legs. So you’re stuck with me.”
The boy paused, considering her words before giving a small shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
“Good!” she said with a grin. “Now, come on. Let’s—”
Before she could finish, she shifted her weight to stand up, but her foot slipped on the muddy bank. With a yelp, she tumbled forward and splashed right into the pond, sending ripples across the water. In her panic, she grabbed onto the boy’s shirt, pulling him in after her.
There was a brief moment of chaos, water sloshing everywhere as they scrambled to their feet in the shallow water. Soaked and stunned, Y/n looked over at the boy, who wiped pond muck off his face with an exasperated sigh.
“You just became my friend, and you’re already trying to murder me,” he said, his face deadpan. “That’s why I’d rather be friends with fishes.”
She burst into laughter, even as water dripped down her face. “Sorry about that. I’m Jung Y/n, by the way.”
He shook his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Kim Donghyun. And... it’s okay.”
And just like that, with wet shoes and muddy clothes, a new friendship was born.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The soft blue glow of the tanks lit up the dim hallways of the aquarium, making everything feel like it was underwater. The sound of bubbling water and the occasional splashing filled the air as Leehan and Y/n wandered from tank to tank, their parents chatting behind them.
Leehan walked a few steps ahead, eyes wide with excitement. “Look, that one’s a lionfish!” he exclaimed, pointing at a spiny, colorful fish that floated lazily in one of the tanks.
Y/n leaned closer, her face nearly pressed against the glass. “Why’s it called a lionfish? It doesn’t look like a lion.”
“It’s because of its fins. See? They look like a lion’s mane,” Leehan explained, puffing his chest out a little. “And they’re super poisonous, so don’t touch one if you ever see it.”
She gave him a side-eye. “Why would I ever touch a fish?”
He shrugged. “I dunno, some people are weird.”
They moved to the next tank, which was filled with tiny fish darting around a coral reef. Leehan tapped the glass gently. “These are clownfish. They live in sea anemones because they’re immune to the sting.”
Y/n squinted, her nose scrunching up. “Clownfish? They don’t look like clowns.”
“They have stripes like clown costumes!” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And did you know that if the female clownfish dies, the male turns into a female?”
She blinked at him, frowning. “Wait—what?”
“Yeah, it’s true. They can change from boy to girl if they need to. Isn’t that cool?” he said, his voice full of excitement.
Y/n stared at the fish for a moment, then looked at him with a mischievous smile. “Are you gonna turn into a girl someday, Donghyunnie?”
He gave her a look, his face turning a little red. “No! I’m not a clownfish!”
She laughed, clearly enjoying teasing him. “Sure, sure.”
They continued on to the next exhibit, a massive tank filled with all kinds of fish. A shark glided by the glass, and Leehan practically jumped in place, pointing at it with wide eyes. “That’s a blacktip reef shark! They’re not dangerous to people, but they’re really fast. And sometimes they swim in really shallow water!”
Y/n watched the shark swim in lazy circles. “It’s kinda cute,” she said.
“Cute?” Leehan repeated, his face scrunched up in disbelief. “It’s a shark.”
“Yeah, but look at its little face,” she said, leaning closer to the glass. “It looks like it’s smiling.”
He shook his head. “You’re weird.”
“You like fish,” she shot back, giving him a smug grin. “That’s way weirder.”
He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, knowing she had a point. Instead, he turned to the next tank, full of colorful jellyfish that pulsed and floated like little ghosts. His eyes widened again. “Jellyfish! These ones are called moon jellies. They don’t have brains or hearts, but they can still sting.”
Y/n tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. “No brains? Sounds like some kids in our class.”
He snorted, trying not to laugh, and moved to the next display. “Look, a blue tang! That’s what Dory from Finding Nemo is.”
“Ohh,” she said, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “I like that one! It’s pretty.”
For a moment, they both just stood there, staring at the fish as it swam through the water. The light from the tank reflected in their eyes, and Y/n leaned a little closer to Leehan.
“You really like fish, huh?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.
He nodded, his eyes still glued to the tank. “Yeah. They’re cool. They’re… peaceful.”
She smiled softly, watching him for a moment before turning back to the fish. “I think they’re pretty cool too.”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The park was quiet under the soft glow of the streetlights. The swings swayed gently in the cool night breeze, their creaking the only sound breaking the silence. Y/n and Leehan sat side by side on the swings, their legs almost touching.
Y/n looked down at her feet, tracing patterns in the gravel with her sneakers. Her usually bright eyes were dim, and her shoulders slumped as she swung back and forth slowly. “I can’t believe we’re going to different high schools,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with sadness.
Leehan kept his gaze straight ahead, his own heart heavy despite his calm exterior. “Yeah, it’s... hard to believe.”
The words hung in the air, a shared understanding between them. The reality of their separation was sinking in, making the night feel colder.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “We won’t be in the same classes or see each other every day. It’s just... not going to be the same.”
He turned his head to glance at her, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll miss you too.”
She looked up, catching his eyes. “You’re not very good at showing it, you know. But I can tell you’re sad too.”
He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “I guess I’m just trying to stay positive. It doesn’t change the fact that we’ll still be friends.”
Her face brightened slightly at his words, though the sadness didn’t entirely fade. “We will stay friends, right? We promised.”
“Of course,” he said, nodding firmly. “We’ll talk after school, text, video call, and hang out at each other’s houses. Nothing’s going to change that.”
She reached over and lightly bumped his swing with hers, a gesture of reassurance. “Yeah. We’ll make it work. No matter what.”
He nodded, his voice steady but his eyes reflecting the same sadness she felt. “We will. And besides, it’s just high school. We’ll still see each other a lot.”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “I guess you’re right. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Nope,” he said, giving her a small, encouraging smile. “It’s just a new chapter. We’re still us.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, the swings moving rhythmically as they each reflected on the changes ahead. The night felt less daunting with the reassurance of their friendship, their shared promises warming the chilly air.
“Hey,” Y/n said after a moment, her voice more hopeful. “Promise me you’ll keep being you, no matter what.”
He chuckled softly, the sound almost lost in the night breeze. “I promise. And you keep being you. That’s what makes us work.”
She laughed quietly, the sound mingling with the creak of the swings. “Deal.”
As they continued to swing in companionable silence, the weight of their separation felt a little lighter, buoyed by the strength of their bond and the certainty that their friendship would endure, no matter the distance.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
It was late afternoon at the small café where Leehan worked, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filling the air. The café was always busy around this time, but for now, he was on break, lounging at a table with his five closest friends.
They had been friends since high school, ever since Leehan had somehow charmed his way into their group despite his reputation for being quiet and a little… odd. Even now, sitting with them, he was half-listening to their conversation, more focused on stirring the iced coffee in front of him than joining in.
“Man, you seriously never hung out with any girls in high school,” one of his friends, Jaehyun, teased, kicking his chair lightly. “You were like, a ghost when it came to that stuff. But you expect us to believe you have this mythical childhood best friend that you keep mentioning who’s a girl?”
“Yeah, right,” another friend, Riwoo, chimed in, rolling his eyes. “If she existed, we’d have met her by now.”
The others nodded in agreement, all of them laughing as Leehan shook his head, not even bothering to defend himself. He’d told them a hundred times about Y/n, his best friend from when they were kids, but they never believed him. It didn’t help that they’d gone to different high schools and now different colleges. To his friends, she was some made-up figure—part of his weirdness.
Just as Jaehyun was about to make another joke, the bell above the café door jingled.
Leehan glanced up and his heart did a little flip. There she was—Y/n. She spotted him almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she hurried toward him, her bag bouncing against her side. Without any hesitation, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.
“Kim Donghyun! I’ve missed you so much!” she exclaimed, her voice warm with excitement.
For a moment, he was too stunned to react. He hadn’t seen her in person for so long—after she transferred schools, they’d only texted or called, always busy with their separate lives. But now she was here, right in front of him.
He awkwardly returned the hug, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I, uh… missed you too.”
When they finally pulled apart, Y/n turned to his friends, giving them a polite nod. But her smile faded when she noticed the looks on their faces—five pairs of eyes wide, mouths open in utter disbelief.
“Wha—” Woonhak stammered. “No way.”
Jaehyun leaned closer to Leehan, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Dude… did you hire her to act like your childhood best friend?”
The other guys burst into laughter, nudging each other, clearly convinced they were onto something.
Y/n blinked at them, raising an eyebrow. “Hired me? To do what?”
“They think you’re, uh…” Leehan rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “They don’t believe you’re real.”
“Real?” she repeated, her expression shifting from confusion to mild annoyance. “I’ve known him since we were, like, eight. What’s wrong with you guys?”
Jaehyun snorted. “It’s just—you know, he’s never mentioned you before—”
“He never hangs out with girls,” Riwoo added with a smirk.
“Except his fishes,” Taesan quipped, earning laughs from the group.
Y/n crossed her arms, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. “Oh, right. You guys are the weird ones.”
Leehan looked up at her, deadpan. “Told you.”
She laughed softly, playfully ruffling his hair. “You haven’t changed at all.”
His friends exchanged stunned glances, clearly still trying to process the fact that this girl—the one they thought was made up—was real, standing right in front of them. And even more confusing, she seemed to be completely normal. Not weird at all, like they had assumed anyone associated with Leehan would be.
“Okay, okay,” Jaehyun finally said, raising his hands in surrender. “We believe you. She’s real.”
“But we still need proof,” Sungho added. “Like embarrassing childhood stories. Got any?”
Y/n grinned, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she looked at Leehan. “Oh, I’ve got stories.”
Leehan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Please don’t.”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
After many embarrassing stories and saying goodbye to his friends, Leehan walks Y/n home.
The night was calm as Leehan and Y/n walked side by side, their footsteps muted on the quiet sidewalk. The soft glow of streetlights illuminated their path, casting gentle shadows as they caught up after his shift at work.
Y/n glanced at him with a warm, reflective smile. “You know, I really missed seeing you like this. It’s been too long.”
​​He looked over at her, his expression serious but soft. “I miss it too. It’s been a while.”
She smiled faintly, then turned her gaze forward, her fingers brushing against the cool evening air. “It’s strange. Even after all these years, you haven’t changed one bit. You’re still the same old Kim Donghyun I remember. But your name is different. Leehan?”
He chuckled softly, the sound almost shy. “It’s just a nickname the guys gave me. I’m still Kim Donghyun to you.”
She looked at him, a small, understanding smile on her lips. “It’s a good thing, though. You’ve made great friends and it means you’ve stayed true to yourself.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, their shoulders brushing occasionally. Y/n broke the silence, her voice laced with nostalgia. “Remember when we first met at the pond, by the park? You were so focused on those fish, and I came over and, well... I dragged you right into the water after.”
He chuckled, the memory bringing a smile to his face. “How could I forget? I was so surprised. After agreeing to become friends with you, you decide to drown me.”
She laughed softly, smacking him on the arm. “Hey, I slipped. Besides, you were always the better swimmer between the two of us.”
As they approached their houses, which were still next to each other, Leehan hesitated for a moment, his face showing a hint of awkwardness. “Hey, um, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
She looked at him curiously, her eyes sparkling with interest. “What is it?”
“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I’ve been keeping a fish in my room. I named it after you.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and amusement. “Really? That’s... actually really sweet.”
He nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been missing you a lot, and naming the fish after you seemed like a good way to keep you close.”
Y/n puts a teasing smile on. “Awww, you missed me that much, Kim Donghyun.”
Leehan rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. They reached her front door, they stood for a moment. Y/n opened her front door, and as she stepped inside, she looked back at him with a playful smile. “Goodnight, Leehan. See you on campus tomorrow.”
“Goodnight-wait, what?”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
MASTERLIST
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
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Car Wash
Summary: Derek drives Spencer through a carwash fundraiser.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: flirty fluff
Warnings/Includes: sorority, swimsuits, washing cars in swimsuits, suggestive content (16+)
Word count: 1.1k
a/n: i think Spencer would feel so uncomfortable seeing a bunch of people in swimsuits washing his car lolol
main masterlist
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The rhythmic thud of the highway under the tires accompanied the quiet hum of the car's engine as Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid made their way back from a particularly intense death row interview. The two FBI agents, having spent the past few hours delving into the mind of a convicted criminal, were both relieved to be heading home, though their minds lingered on the case's haunting details.
"Man, that was intense," Derek finally broke the silence, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he navigated through the bustling city traffic. "I'm glad that's over."
Spencer nodded, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "Yeah, I don't think I'll ever get used to that kind of interview."
Derek chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "You'd think after all these years we'd have a thicker skin. But nope."
As they turned a corner, Derek noticed a sign up ahead, its bright colors catching his attention. "Hey, check that out," he said, nodding toward the sign.
“Oh, looks like we stumbled upon a fundraiser,” Derek remarked with a grin. “You’re in luck, genius. Maybe a little car wash will wash away some of that prison grime from our heads.”
Spencer’s eyes widened as they neared the scene. The sorority members were decked out in swimsuits and tank tops, holding colorful sponges and buckets of soapy water. They moved gracefully between the cars, laughing and chatting with the drivers, their enthusiasm infectious.
As Derek drove them into line, Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting from one vibrant swimsuit to the next. The vibrant scene seemed to overwhelm him. His fingers tapped nervously on his knee, and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend's obvious discomfort.
“Relax, pretty boy. It’s just a bunch of college kids raising money for a good cause. Nothing to be nervous about,” Derek teased, patting Spencer on the shoulder.
“Uh, yeah, I know,” Spencer mumbled, trying to focus on anything but the exuberant display of youthful energy around them. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling out of place.
A cheerful, beautiful young woman approached the car, her hair and body glistening with droplets of water, and a welcoming smile on her face.
You leaned over, hands on the window frame, and peered inside. “Hey there! Thanks for stopping by! This is for the academic sorority – we’re fundraising for educational resources. Would you like a wash?”
Derek nodded, his smile brightening. “Absolutely. Do you have a special academic rate for FBI agents?”
You laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. “Sorry, no special rates, but we promise the best car wash you’ll ever experience. Just pull forward, and we’ll take care of you.”
Spencer gave a nervous smile, unsure of where to look. The energy of the place was intoxicating, yet he felt like an outsider, his usual calm replaced with a peculiar kind of tension.
As Derek pulled the car into the washing zone, the girls and nonbinary members surrounded them, sponges in hand, and began their sudsy assault. The group worked with practiced efficiency, their movements fluid and rhythmic, creating an almost choreographed display of teamwork.
“Reid, you’re missing the show,” Derek said, nudging him playfully. “Lighten up a little. It’s just soap and water.”
Spencer tried to maintain his composure, but it was nearly impossible with the enticing spectacle unfolding outside the window. “I know, I know,” Spencer replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched through the window as a particularly enthusiastic member wielded a hose, sending a cascade of water over the windshield. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”
Derek chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You mean the half-naked people covered in soapy water rubbing their bodies on the car?”
“Yeah,” Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to the scene outside once again. “That.”
His gaze unintentionally kept finding you, drawn in by the way your swimsuit fit you so perfectly, and the way the bubbles seemed to cling to your skin, accentuating your every curve. The sun was relentless in its teasing, casting golden rays that danced across your shimmering body, emphasizing the soap suds glistening against your skin. Spencer's cheeks flushed with warmth, a result of both the sun and his own embarrassment.
You noticed Spencer’s stare, your lips curving into a playful smirk as you met his gaze. With a teasing wink, you took the sponge in your hand, wringing out the water so it cascaded down your chest, sending rivulets of soapy water running down your body in a mesmerizing display.
Spencer felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a position that would hide the obvious problem in his slacks. His mind raced, heart pounding in his chest.
“You’re that uncomfortable, pretty boy?” Derek teased, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer mumbled, his face burning as he tried to look anywhere but in your direction.
Derek laughed heartily, shaking his head. “I think she’s got her eye on you, man.”
As the car wash ended, and Spencer’s discomfort reached its peak, Derek rolled down the window to pay. But instead of approaching Derek’s side, you walked confidently to Spencer’s window, tapping on the glass.
Spencer rolled down the window, eyeing you with curiosity and suspicion. “Um, hi,” he stammered.
“Hey,” you greeted him, your smile dazzling. “Do you have a pen?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer fumbled in his satchel, retrieving a pen and handing it to you. His fingers brushed against your wet skin, and he felt a shiver run up his spine.
You took the pen, holding out your hand expectantly. Spencer hesitated for a moment before realizing what you wanted. He extended his arm, raising an eyebrow in surprise as you began writing your number on his forearm with a playful grin.
“The wash is on the house,” you said, smirking at him. “You can take me to dinner instead.” With a blown kiss and a confident stride, you walked away, leaving Spencer utterly speechless.
Spencer sat there, mouth slightly agape, as he watched you disappear into the crowd of volunteers. He glanced down at the number on his arm, then back at Derek, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Did that just happen?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe.
“Yeah, Reid,” Derek laughed, giving him a pat on the back. “That just happened.”
As Derek drove away from the car wash, Spencer couldn't help but stare at the numbers on his forearm, a giddy smile spreading across his face. This unexpected turn of events had certainly added a twist to their day, and as he contemplated the prospect of taking you to dinner, he couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in his chest.
It was going to be an interesting evening, to say the least.
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s6ngbird · 10 months ago
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pretty little dove — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆
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♡‧₊ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, kinda dub-con(?), coryo being mean
♡‧₊ pairing — peacekeeper!coryo x fem!reader
♡‧₊ a/n — erm i'm still new to this whole warning stuff so lmk if i forgot stuff 😭
masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune
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when coriolanus came to district 12, he had one goal in mind, to find lucy gray
but now that he was here and had seen lucy gray again, he realized he didn't much care for her anymore
his eyes were now set on you, a poor district girl who was just trying to steal some food to feed herself until he caught you
and you fled, checking every minute or so behind you to make sure the peacekeeper wasn't following you
and you didn't see anyone thank god, you didn't know that coriolanus had let you off the hook this time but he knew he was going to have you either way
what you didn't know is that over time, as you started getting mysterious packages with food, was that coriolanus had been watching you and memorizing your schedule 
some might call it stalking, but to coryo, he was just watching out for you
who knows what could happen if he left you alone, what if some creep started stalking you?
you decided to cross the district line one day, after being told by lucy gray about how nice and peaceful it was
as you walked through the tall grass, picking up a flower and looking its pretty colors, it reminded you of the certain peacekeeper who had let you go that one day and how blue his eyes were
your happiness is cut short though, seeing a shadow fall over you and looking up to see that it was the certain peacekeeper 
“you want to explain yourself sweetheart?” he said, crouching down so that he could be eye to with you
“i was just trying to have some peace, y'know the district isn't the best place?” you said, not scared of him, why should you be?
he chuckled, moving a piece of your hair and standing up
“i like you, but you know acting like that and crossing the district line is going to get you in trouble, hm?” 
you stood up and smiled at him
“well i'm glad you were the one who caught me” you say, getting ready to leave before coriolanus kisses you hard, catching you off guard and quickly pulling away
“well i’ll see you later dove, don't let me catch you here again” he said with a smirk, and with that he left
you were stunned, unsure what that was, you had never realized that it could be possible that a peacekeeper could like a district girl
but hey there's always a first time for everything 
just like being fucked for the first time, out in the forest against a tree by the same peacekeeper who had warned you not to cross the district line again
and of course you paid no heed to his words, why would you? it's not like he was going to personally hunt you down if you did
wrong.
you also thought that he didn't like you and just wanted to turn you in
also wrong.
he was currently kissing you hard, his tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands was rolling your nipple between his fingers, after he had ripped your thin shirt off
you cried at first when this all happened but then you felt his cock enter your soaking cunt you fell silent
this would be the first time you had ever been fucked before and it was obvious to coryo
“shit dove, loosen up for me will you? you’re so fucking tight, gripping me like a damn vice” he said, after getting his whole cock in while you kept clenching
you didn’t say a thing, you just tried to relax, but then he started moving at an unforgiving pace, breaching your cervix every so often as you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails through the fabric 
your legs started shaking and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks and coryo noticed this, laughing as you continued to slam into you, chasing his release 
he licked up your tears, reaching a hand between you two to rub your clit in order to make you come faster
coryo might not be the best man, but he’s willing to make sure you also get some pleasure through him (he just wants you to enjoy it so he can do it again later)
he fucks into you harder, kissing you over and over again to distract you from any pain or discomfort he might be causing you 
you start to feel something building up and it scares you since you had never had the experience of being fucked by anyone, let alone someone like coryo
“oh my fucking god” you feel a knot snap as you come undone on his cock, your legs shaking even more as you cling onto to coryo for dear life
he holds you up, his touch is gentle which is quite opposite of how he fucking you and laughing at your reactions
“no more please” you say, feeling tired as coryo continued to slam into you, eliciting broken moans from you 
his hips stutter and you feel something warm coat your insides, the color draining from your face as he pulls out, still holding you up and shoving his fingers in to make sure all of his cum stays in
you let out a moan as he does but he quickly takes his fingers out, shoving them in another hole, your mouth, making you taste his cum
“yeah…lick it up you dirty little slut, you gonna be mine now hm?”
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cowgirlcherrie · 1 year ago
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florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
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a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡
warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.
divider creds here
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ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks. 
– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk
ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.
ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.
ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.
ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.
ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!
“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,
Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it. 
ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!
“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”
Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff
ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.
Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL. 
Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.
ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call. 
ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do
“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”
Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself. 
ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you
“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”
ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)
ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.
ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.
Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.
ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further. 
“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”
Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.
“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”
ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.
“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”
ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her. 
ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)
ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.
“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo
“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it 
ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.
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wroteclassicaly · 5 months ago
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18+
Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight fluff, dominant Penelope, threesome, some comfort, plus sized reader, self-esteem issues, slight anxiety, and NSFW.
Pairings: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington x Female Reader
Wordcount: 1,926
A/N: Hi! This is my first piece of fic (trash) into the Bridgerton world. I’ve never read any fics, haven’t seen all of the show yet. I’ve only recently gotten into it because of Penelope/Polin. Hope you enjoy, and I look forward to producing more content (likely turning this into a storyline)!
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Your hands feel cold, slick with an icy sweat that seems to evaporate into heat. The more you seem to fold into yourself, she can recognize and wrap her fingers in your own. It is a comfort, however, also a reminder, as your fingertips would brush across the diamond she bears. He is not meant for you, she is not meant for you. They belong to one another.
You have to remember why you were brought to their home in the first place. And ultimately, what you do to earn your way in this life. That would surely shame their family name if anyone were to see you here, sneaking through corridors in the middle of the night with the newly married Penelope Featherington — now proudly assuming her Bridgerton name. Your thoughts are shaken from you, as you round the corner, stopping short at the buttery glow of light spilling from beneath the doors. You edge away slightly, spare hand reaching to clutch your sleep attire closed.
“You know that we will not object if your mind has changed.” She speaks with a soft reassurance, the nail on her thumb scratching along your palm.
That is the most odd thing — an emotion, in which you cannot process yet. A connection you’ve already established with them. It prevents you from shying away, from objecting. You’re shaking your head, inhaling rather sharply. “I do not have very many reservations, Mrs. Bridgerton —“
“ — Penelope, please?”
You can do nothing but smile in return. “Penelope. Forgive me, I suppose my curiosity has taken a walk with my nerves tonight. But I will not let it get the better of me. I still want this. To give what I can, to you and to your husband.”
She stops short of those doors and takes both of your hands into her own. She’s a picture of this fine, smooth porcelain, so full and perfect that you could spend hours worshipping if given the chance. Maybe that night is tonight?
Her voice is roping you back in. “This is a mutual thing that Colin and myself have agreed upon. It is not just about us. This consent you’ve given, it does not extend only to our pleasure, but also to your own.”
You’re inhaling sharply, understanding her implications, but unsure why. Your role is to give them whatever they need and then go. And this is what they’d like? It’s as if time stops when Penelope wraps her dainty fingers around the door handle, pushing, the force bringing your dressing gowns a few inches off of the floor by their hems. If you thought that was something, the sight that you’re greeted with is enough to wake your entire bloodline from beneath the soil.
Candles are draped around the room for more than just the ability to see, giving it all a personal ambience. This is their personal bedroom, not a study, not a hidden place, but where their marriage bed is located. Your mouth becomes parched as you look around to truly take it in, the doors closing behind you not even startling you. Penelope stays close by, especially until you’re noticing him. He’s patient, a slight smile pressed into his beautiful mouth.
“Good evening, ladies. I take it we’re alright then?”
It’s that honey-hot depth that captivates you, causing you to reach back to Pen, seeking her support. She encourages you to meet her husband in a few short feet. He’s clad in his cream colored night shirt, his silhouette shrouded in candlelight. His hair has grown out a little, a slight touch of curl sweeping across the top. Their radiating body heats caging you in, it’s a feeling you are sure won’t ever occur again in your lifetime.
“Mr. Bridgerton. Good evening, Sir.”
He grins as though a feather has tickled the crafted end of his jawline. Penelope shares a fond look over your shoulder.
“No need for formalities. It’s safe in here, I promise you.” Penelope is nodding as his arm raises, one eyebrow to gauge your permission. You don’t object. And his rather large hand is caressing your cheek, stifling the air inside of your lungs. “Call me Colin, yes?”
Like the sweetest of sugar, his name rolls off your tongue without pause. “Colin.”
Penelope’s hands find your shoulders from behind, sliding around your collar to dip in, caress your skin. You swallow, but accept. “Whatever you wish to do, you have my permission.” Your head briefly attempts to look over your shoulder as you also address her. “The both of you.”
~*~
It hadn’t taken long for things to progress between the three of you. When Colin’s mouth found your own, Penelope had slowly unraveled your gown from your torso, everyone holding their breaths as it hit the floor. Your chin became pinched beneath his sturdy fingers, tilting until he had access to your neck. Pen’s hands aimlessly wandering with what you thought wasn’t a purpose, just an exploration. How wrong you’d been the moment that her hands had found your full breasts, ever-so-gently caressing your areola.
It wasn’t that she was experienced in her movements, no. It was how eager she seemed to touch you, to have your body beneath her grasp like this. And it only added energy on top of the mounting tension already in the room. You did not have to guide, nor teach. Colin maneuvered, gave his wife space to learn, to feel another woman’s body.
He’d coaxed her around, taking her previous placing behind you, her pupils had encased her irises into an inky black velvet. The way her mouth had become swollen from biting her full, lower lip, her hands unable to stop touching you. In the end, you closed the gap, Colin caressing the nape of your neck as you kissed his wife with fervor. It was beautiful, the two of you. Your shape wore a little more weight than Penelope’s, but it was exceptional, in his eyes — seeing women that could not see the beauty in themselves, lost in one another this way.
He could only hope that you’re both seeing it now, as well.
As you’d broken apart, Colin stepped to the side, voice a bitten rasp, offering both hands. “Shall we take this to bed?”
~*~
You aren’t able to breathe correctly, breasts heaving, legs wide open to make room for him, for her.
The second that they had laid you down, that he had undressed his wife and kissed her, he whispered something in her ear. She’d gone red, but nodded and joined your right side. You tried not to let languid anxieties find their way inside, tried to remain proper when he had stood before you, bedside — all hard muscle, trim hips that held his length in between. He would be a fit, even for you.
He’d licked his tongue at the corner of his mouth, inhaling rather sharply, his hair covered chest already drenched in desperate perspiration. “I am going to show Pen how to touch you between your thighs. Will you let me — us, will you let us?”
How her hand looked in his as he guided, separating two fingers and sucking them into his mouth, causing a not so proper word to leave your lips — it’s surely a sight that could cure those without clear sight. The way their lips had parted when her finger breached your opening, sliding into your wet heat, knowing how it felt for the first time. She’d moved to his ministrations along your jugular, everyone entangled in a pulling, a pushing, more. Heavens, more. You had felt the tears glisten in your eyes, melt into your lashline, cooling on the air.
Colin had asked if you were alright, to which you drug him by his wrist, cupping his palm over your breast. “Please, please.”
~*~
The way the ceiling looks above you, you cannot see through your hazed over vision. The candles burning, melting down, you are not concerned with. Even the summer’s rain that has begun to pour on earth, there is no room to ponder. What you’re thinking of within this moment, it is the man between your legs, one hand held behind your crown, the other holding onto your waist as he moves so deeply inside of you, precise, wonderfully intricate thrusts, that discover a place in your body that you weren’t aware existed. Why should you? No client had ever taken this much time, nor care for what your body felt.
It was never about that. You were there to serve, purpose fulfilled, you left tattered and empty. But with Colin and Penelope Bridgerton? You aren’t sure what this is. The singular certainty that you do have, however, is that you do not wish for this to end.
There’s a fire in Penelope’s eyes as she sees you holding back a brewing question, your hands shaking. The one wound around Colin’s shoulder, the other that you have currently working between her legs. She can barely hold it together, beautiful and angelic to you, keeping you able to take her husband without issue. She is nodding at you, knowing what you need. You’re past that point, coasting over realms undiscovered, heavenly worlds that only Colin Bridgerton has directions to, powers to unlock.
She removes her hands from you both, dipping them down to his bottom, feeling, grabbing, and that moan drips from her like the cream that’s accumulated across her thighs, and she pushes, locks in tight. Like he’s under command, under her spell, his hips take you faster, harder — giving you exactly what you could not ask for. You’re not sure who is louder at this point, but everyone begins to breathe harder, lungs exerted, hands finding one another. You clip onto his neck’s nape, your other hand finding Penelope’s soft, soaked mound, and he is gripping onto her breast, his spare reaching back to hold onto your hand that is on his neck.
Penelope reaches her peak first, how she tightens around your fingers, collapsing right into the pillow beside your head. It triggers you to follow, body briefly arching, throat unable to let out anything that is not a pitiful, intense cry. You’re swimming with this, ignited in a reality that you cannot imagine not having endured before. Colin tenses, his forehead finding your own, and Penelope is lifting to watch you to complete your peaks. He sighs himself into a drawn out whine, right into your open mouth.
And then it’s over, his full weight pressed into you. It’s like there’s instruments that have suddenly stalled and cast a curtain aside to let you hear every sound you’ve been ignoring, incapable of. Heavy rain, battering winds, and rushing heartbeats. You all take a thoughtful moment, before Colin is lifting on forearms. “You’re alright? The both of you?”
You concur with Penelope. Colin smirks, bringing your slick covered fingers, letting them work into his mouth. He sucks her essence free of you, and they lean to trade a kiss, before taking a place on either side of you. Pen reaches for the blankets, pulling them up and gently tucking you in.
“I believe I will ask Mr. Bridgerton to extend the invitation.”
You turn to Colin, a question written into your features. He doesn’t give you too much time to ponder. “You will stay with us? Tonight?”
It’s everything that you want, but also everything that you cannot ask for. Like a fool, you’re already falling lovesick.
What have you done?
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howtotrainyouragents · 3 months ago
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Folding Laundry, Spy x Family mini fic
Decipher the intercepted report. Prepare intel for Handler. Pick up groceries. Loid ran through his seemingly endless list of tasks, calculating each step of execution and strategizing on the most efficient plan of action. But when he set the laundry to fold on the couch, Yor appeared with a smile.
“Let me help with that.”
It would take two minutes and thirty seconds to fold it himself, and he only had three minutes to spare on this mountain of clothes before he had to start on his patient files. But Yor was humming a tune as she started separating the clothes, and, after a moment, he sat down beside her and quietly started folding. 
The afternoon sun streamed in, warm and fuzzy. Bond yawned disinterestedly at them and shuffled into Anya’s room. Sitting so close to Yor, Loid wondered again why she never seemed to wear perfume. 
Focus. Like any operation, Operation Strix could collapse in an instant if he wasn’t vigilant.  There was the slightest tension in Yor’s shoulders, a slight discomfort or unsureness, that he’d noticed before in these very quiet moments. 
“Do you miss your life before this?” He asked, blunt in a way that only a moment like this could allow.
She looked up, surprised. Her eyes drifted to the window as she absently smoothed the creases in Anya’s frock. Loid found his next breath hinged on her answer.
“In an odd way, yes.” 
He knew it. Operation Strix was in danger.  He had to find out more, a way to fix this. He had to keep this fake family happy for the sake of world peace.  
Yor continued on. “After my brother and I came to the city, I was by myself. I kept a small apartment. Just a bed, a kettle, a few clothes. I didn’t go out much, didn’t have friends really.  Yuri would visit, of course, but he was busy with work.” 
Loid tried to picture this life and found a familiar echoing pang. “That sounds lonely.”
Yor shrugged. “It was all I knew. Pain doesn’t feel like pain when it’s all you know. But this?” She looked around, noticing the room and him in the same way he’d done. “This is unfamiliar. And that’s harder.” 
Her eyes widened, and red colored her cheeks. “Not to say that I don’t want this or- or I’m not grateful!” She rushed to explain. “This is arrangement has been the best thing to happen. It’s just…”
“New?” Loid supplied, though it wasn’t quite the right word.
She hurried through the folding, and a moment later, nervously asked, “Do you miss your life before this? I mean- I mean, before Anya and your first wife?”
Loid slowly buttoned the shirt he was folding. He remembered the brutal military camp he infiltrated to get close to an officer. The snooty soirée to seduce the minister’s daughter.  The loud explosions of the battlefield.
“There wasn’t much of a life before,” he admitted.
She nodded gently, and the slight tension in her shoulders eased. And to Loid’s surprise, so in his. They folded the rest of the clothes, taking in the warm sun and noises from the street. 
He gathered his clothes and she took the rest to hers and Anya’s rooms. Putting them away, he ran through his list of things to do again. He’d wasted too much time. He still had to prepare reports and patient files and get dinner. But the buzzing, stomach-turning anxiousness to get everything done had quieted, and that left him nervous and paranoid.
 So when he heard a ruckus, he rushed to Anya’s room, grateful for something to snap him out of this calm. 
Anya had gleefully seized Yor’s interruption to abandon homework and was playing spy with Bond and her toys.
“But Agent Anya, what about your homework mission?” Yor cried in her TV-spy voice. 
“The mission is in trouble! Agent Anya needs hot coca to save the day!” Bond borfed. “And cookies!”
“Okay, if Agent Papa says it’s okay to take a break,” Yor said, turning to him standing in the doorway.
“Agent Papa!” Anya saluted. “Hot cocoa and cookies!” 
Their eyes were shining bright in excitement. Bond wagged his tail. The house wasn’t just warm with the afternoon, but with the joy of this little fake family.
Loid remembered the cold of the military camp sinking deep beneath his clothes, leaving him freezing and sick. He remembered the bitter bile taste of choking back his words when highbrow ministers spewed hateful words.  He could feel the splintery wood of the makeshift cot as he lay at night, waiting for bullets to rain down on them in the morning. 
He put on his best impression of Handler for his waiting family, but he suddenly understood what Yor was talking about. All of his past lives were hard. Terrifying even. 
But not as terrifying as this. 
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coeurify · 2 years ago
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THE PERFECT PAIR;
ELLIE WILLIAMS
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·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."
pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k
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There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?
You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.
“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.
“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”
“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”
“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.
“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.
Was it a little true? Maybe.
It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.
Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.
A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.
Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.
But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.
So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”
Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”
The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.
“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.
Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.
You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.
“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”
“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.
“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.
“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.
“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.
“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”
You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”
“I don't want to, dude.”
The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.
When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.
“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.
“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”
The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.
“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”
Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”
Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.
You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.
“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”
You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”
Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”
Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”
Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.
The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.
“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”
Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”
“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.
“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.
“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”
Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”
The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”
Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.
The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.
Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.
“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.
“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”
Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”
The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”
Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”
“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”
The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”
A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.
els
she axe murder u?
You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.
you
why? worried abt me? 🤨
els
just wanted to see u say i was right
you
k🖕🖕
The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.
“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.
When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.
els
come over and watch smthn?
els
i got ur fave snack from the caf
You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.
“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”
You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.
“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.
“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.
els
???
You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”
Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.
None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.
You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.
Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.
Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.
Especially when you stopped answering her texts.
She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.
Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.
Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.
So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.
In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.
But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’
But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.
Yea, that’s all it was.
So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.
Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.
She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.
Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.
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series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu
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sourpeachsayshi · 2 months ago
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(minors / ageless / blank blogs dni)
tags: choso has a stepcest kink (very light); alludes to choso being high; porn watching; nipple play; fingering; squirting; non con (they are being watched); I finally have the courage to post this draft slkdjf don't shame me
regarding yuji's best friend reader and his big brother choso and this idea I wrote a while back: Hmp catching your best friend’s older brother (choso) watching porn, so he invites you into his room to join him - and while you watch he just sucks on your tits and slowly fingers you until you squirt all over is sheets.
you're face is so hot watching this video, the girl is moaning while she's being eaten out. you're not sure if you should focus on her responses or on choso sucking your nipples like his life depends on it.
"is-is this what turns you on?" you stammer, the blaring fact that the actors are playing step siblings sending a shiver all over your body.
your breath hitches, choso's own staggering as he looks up at you with slightly blood shot eyes. "it's kinda hot, right? that they are doing something that they shouldn't..."
he says this as he slides two fingers underneath your underwear, his other hand pinching your erect nipple. he pushes two fingers between your wet folds, hearing you whine as he carefully starts fucking you.
your mouth is dry, your head falling to the pillow where the side of your cheek is illuminated by blue light blaring from his monitor. you're trying not to read so much into his comment about forbidden hook ups, and you're unsure if your heart is racing because of the thrill or if you're overwhelmed.
he sucks on your tit, releasing it with a pop, his fingers working magic between your legs. "The plot is whatever, a cliche I guess," he admits, "but she's hot, and the way he fucks her..." he groans, snagging you tender nipple between his teeth, "it's kinda how I think about fucking you..."
you're gushing down to his knuckles, your body shuddering at the prospect of getting fucked by this sinful man. you don't say anything else then, but you keep your attention focused on the screen. when it gets to the scene where he does fuck her, you only imagine how it would feel with choso instead.
the actors are splayed out on the living room sofa, the girl getting fucked so hard and rough in the middle of the living room. you can't help but wonder if choso is desperate to claim you this heatedly in the sanctuary of his own home for a reason, and if that reason has anything to do with wanting him to make his mark on his brother's best friend.
his mouth is circled over your left breast, sucking and licking over the bud as his fingers move faster. he's grinding into the mattress, his erection making a mess of his jeans, and you know that's he's getting far to into it when his own moans start getting louder and louder.
you know you're going to cum hard when he starts pressing up against the sweet spot that makes everything in you seize up, and he has to use his other hand to clasp over your mouth so that you don't scream as you squirt all over his t-shirt.
you're so dizzy in the aftermath, but as your eyes fall to choso's bedroom door you realize that it's not completely closed. through the sliver of the gap you spot the color of fiery red, and you instantly shoot up which startles the man before you.
"what's wrong?" choso asks, using this as opportunity to turn off the screen of his monitor.
you shake your head, "I-I thought I saw something..."
choso circles his arms around your waist, and drops his weight on top of you as he lays you both back on the mattress.
"yuji isn't even here, baby," he reminds you.
which is true, except sukuna decided to pay his younger brothers a visit and was startled to find out that you're a lot closer to this family than he even thought.
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iichfilwypj · 3 days ago
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meeting the family | percy jackson
ღ percy jackson x mortal! reader: with the special participation of her little sister, lily! ღ warnings: none! very very short ღ wc: 550
To say Percy was nervous would be an understatement. While he and his girlfriend waited for her to arrive, he couldn't stop fidgeting, gripping the bag of gifts he had brought tightly in his lap. 
What if she didn’t like him? What if she decided he wasn’t good enough to be with her sister? Meeting your girlfriend’s family is a terrifying ordeal, after all.
Noticing his anxiety, she gently took the bag from him and placed a reassuring hand on his back. “Percy, it's fine! She’ll love you.”
But how could he be sure? He wasn’t good at these things; he’d broken plates when he first met her parents. 
He slipped his hand into his pocket, fiddling with his sword. Oh, dear Hades, did he really have a fucking sword with him? Panci filled him. “Wait, does she know about my… genetics? What if I scare her?” 
She looked him up and down, trying to figure out what could possibly scare her sister. He was dressed in a shirt covered in blue flowers, with matching blue sneakers –and let’s not talk about the pink streak in his hair that he let her dyed over the gray one. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna be scared,” she said, stifling a laugh. “I kinda told her you are like Aquaman, so she might expect you to do some water things.” 
“What!?”
“Hey, she loves Aquaman”
A car horn sounded from outside, and she jumped up to greet her sister. Percy scanned the room for escape routes—too far to the kitchen, the windows were closed, and the balcony was a terrible idea. He was trapped. He was really trapped there.
C’mon, Percy, you can do this. You’ve killed monsters. Like, a lot of them. And monsters are worse than sisters. Usually. You can totally do this. Yep. I hope. Oh my god, they are coming back. No, no, no.
“Hi.” There it was—his end. He turned toward the door as his girlfriend entered with little Lily, who waved and plopped down beside him on the couch.
"He- Hello"
“I’m Lily,” the girl said, kicking off her blue shoes and handing them to him –why? No idea. Before he could do anything, Lily pulled a drawing from her little backpack. “My sister said blue is your favorite color, so I did this!”
A drawing! She had made one for him. Percy stared at it, unsure how to react. It was just blue lines, blue circles, and blue squares. but it felt like the best gift ever.
He felt a bit silly for having been afraid; what could a four-year-old possibly do? 
“Wow, this is amazing! Thank you!” He set it aside and smiled at her. The little girl’s face lit up with delight as she realized her creation had been well-received, and with a burst of confidence, she hugged him tightly. Percy, feeling more at ease, wrapped his arms around her softly. 
He glanced over at his girlfriend, who was still standing by the door, watching the interaction between her two favorite people with a look of pure adoration. A smile was etched on her face, an expression of pure happiness that seemed unwilling to fade. She knew her sister would love him—who could resist? 
“Now, can you do Aquaman stuff?”
helloo! this is so simple but i don't know, i think i like it! I tried to make it short but i think is waaay to short, i have to work on that.
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thenighthekate · 1 year ago
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Bring me to heaven ( t.k. )
But all my soul was full of light. A joyful sense and purity. Is all I can remember; the very night to me was bright.
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Her beauty was orphic, beyond explainable and out of the ordinary. The plush of her thighs glistened in the moonlight as she kneeled beside her bed, her eyes fluttering shut and her hands clasping together. Soft whispers were let out between her lips, something about father, mother, praising the man above. He wanted to ruin this part of her, this innocent, shielded part. He wanted to taint her, have her all to himself.
His hand traveled down his stomach, his palm grabbing the growing bulge in his baggy pants. He screwed his eyes shut, his mind buzzing with everything he wanted to do to her, show her a new world she has never seen. He felt the bed dip, the girl of his fantasies crawling towards his spread arms.
The rules from her parents were simple, he could date her as long as he didn't put devilish thoughts into her head, but at this moment he felt like sinning, he felt like breaking every law that was strongly placed down.
Her head rested on his shoulder, quiet breaths deep from her chest as she shut her eyes to sleep. He took a hold of her hand, his fingers drawing figures on the top of her palm. He softly moved her body, his own frame casting a shadow on top of her as he moved to get closer. He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, her scent clouding his senses, sweet vanilla and cinnamon making him high.
" What are you doing?" Her soft voice was filled with sleep, her eyes barely open as she grabbed onto his head. Her skin tickled when he left kisses right beside her jaw, the small pecks traveling towards her lips. When their mouths met, Tom was on cloud nine. The kiss was sweet, filled with innocence and unsure motions. He leaned in deeper, his hand rubbing her cheek, the other one sliding down her body. " We can't." Her soft, pillowy lips broke away from his, doe eyes staring straight at him, making his head spin even more.
He didn't say anything, his gaze shifting all over her face, landing on her soft pout. The hand on her face slowly dragged closer to her chin. His grasp was tight, a gasp leaving her when his thumb grazed the corners of her mouth. He pinched her bottom lip, his finger sliding closer to her opening. When his digit pressed down on her tongue, flattening the curve her mouth closed around him in shock.
" But you want to." He whispered, her eyes wide, her chest heaving up and down meeting his own.
" I-"
" Do this for me, just tonight. Tomorrow you can go back to the good girl you're pretending to be." His words were manipulative, almost sadistic. She kept quiet, he could see the gears turning in her head, she was never good at deciding. With hesitance laced through her expression, she nodded her head, her hair falling off her shoulders, Tom's gaze suddenly on the newly naked flesh.
The room felt hotter, her shirt scrunched around her chest, his hands were groping her breasts, molding the skin into the shape of his palms. Soft breaths and whines left her lips as he kissed down her stomach. The new sensations tickled her brain, goosebumps appearing all over her body.
" Lift up." Her hands slowly rose, the white fabric of her top sliding all the way off. It was truly a sight for sore eyes, her nipples perked up, ready to be tugged, bitten. He could feel himself diving deeper into his obsession, like an addict straight on their high he never wanted to stop. As he took his sweet time exploring her body, her cheeks grew rosier by each passing second. She felt exposed, embarrassed, but yet a part of her wanted to carry on, felt like she needed to feel him pressed against her for the rest of their lives.
His hands slid further down, the hem of her shorts right underneath his fingertips. Spots of red were left on her skin, the bloody color soon turning purple and littering her chest. Tom tried to be sweet, be patient and take his time, but he simply couldn't.
With a simple tug, he took off her pants, now laying completely naked beneath him she felt like the odd one. Her hands slid from his shoulders towards his abs, the end of his shirt tight in her palm as she lifted the fabric. He helped her take his shirt off, his toned skin shining in the cool moonlight.
Time was moving fast, hours felt like only a couple seconds. His head was between her thighs, her legs spread as wide as possible to let his frame rest comfortably. Her back arched from the covers of the bed, his eyes glued to her shut ones as he let his tongue dance over her flesh. His mouth was all over her, his teeth slightly biting her soft bundle of nerves. At the motion her hips twitched to meet his face, her plump lips open, eyebrows scrunched, trying so hard not to let anyone hear.
The silver cross around her neck dangled with every move she made, the cold, shiny metal oftentimes grazing her nipple making her shudder.
The feeling was getting stronger, her gut twisting and wrenching whenever his tongue met just the right place. Her fingers were scratching against his scalp, her hands trying to push him away. " Let go." His words were slurred, sloppy sounds filled the room as he lapped up any spit and juices.
" I can't." It almost sounded like she was crying, the pleasure getting to her head, not caring anymore if anyone heard or saw.
Tom abruptly stopped, his own fingers fiddling with his belt trying to get the pieces of clothing off. " It will hurt, I'm sorry." At the moment the lack of protection didn't bother anyone, the only emotion they felt was lust and longing. Her hands wrapped around his neck, her forehead creasing ready to endure the stretching pain. They were both panting, their heads pressed up against each other.
A pained moan left her lips, her hands pressing his shoulders in a motion to make him stop. " I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." It felt like her body was ripping in half, and when he was fully in no one moved. Tom waited until her expression full of pain turned into mind blowing pleasure, and he didn't have to wait for long. As soon as he started to move his hips those same sweet sounds left her lips.
Her hair was a mess, sprawled all over the pillows, her skin glistening with a sheer layer of sweat.
" This is better than I could've ever imagined." He could tell that she was far too gone to make complete sentences, her legs slightly shaking around his waist, her mouth open, eyes shut. With her lack of experience her breaking point was coming fast, her whole body shuddering with pleasure and an adrenaline rush.
She didn't even know what was happening, but a strong wave of euphoria made her choke on her own spit, her head bopping against the pillows with every thrust.
" That's it. Just like that." His own finish was coming soon, but the girl below him looked spent. Her eyes were practically closing, her body limp and molding to his every order. When his own eyes were just about to shut with pleasure he pulled out, cold air immediately filling the empty spaces. He would do anything for her, including letting her rest and finishing himself off alone, after all he took everything he wanted.
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strawbeerossi · 1 year ago
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Take It
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer has plans of keeping your night going. Now it’s your turn to make it up to him.
Content/Warnings: Gagging, hair pulling, oral (m rec), face fucking
Word Count: 1.1K
Kinktober Day Twenty Two: Face Fucking
Part two to Day Twenty
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”
You were unsure of what to say as you let your mouth fall open at the mere idea. Were you really about to go on with his sick delusions and games? It was difficult to say no, your pussy aching for more after the starter course that Spencer had given to you.
You didn’t get to answer as he helped lift you, only offering a grin as he was nudging you to get on your knees for him. “There we go. See, you’re such a good girl when you follow directions. I bet you’re dying to see my cock, aren’t you?” You didn’t want to say that you were but your head was nodding anyway, going against your wishes.
“I knew you’d be a whore.” He smirked, hand now gripping tightly to your chin as he was making you look him in the eye. The normal pretty honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, every friendly aspect behind those eyes long gone. This was how he wanted you, exposed and on your knees. He’d deal with your shirt later but right now, he was happy to see you on your knees, pussy juices surely running down your thighs from your climax earlier as well as the slick from arousal your body was supplying you with. As his hands were working to get his pants pulled down, Spencer had them down to his ankles as he was working on his boxers as well. Your eyes were widening the minute your eyes caught sight of his cock as it smacked against his stomach. You could feel drool running from your mouth, causing the male above you to chuckle. “Come on, feel free to touch. Good girls deserve it.” He winked, watching as your hand was hesitantly gripping the hardened shaft, hand slowly dragging along with it as your eyes were focused on him.
He was beautiful, hooded over eyes fixated on you as he let one hand move to grip your hair. “Come on. Don’t leave me waiting. I didn’t do that to you, did I?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. No, he didn’t. So you were diving in, tongue swiping over the thick tip of his cock while collecting a few beads of precum that were slipping from his slit. “Fuck. That’s it.” He urged her to continue, prompting her to let her lips wrap around the tip of his cock now. You took her time as you massaged the skin with your tongue, cheeks hollowing as you were suckling and just trying to enjoy your time while savoring the cock in you mouth.
Spencer wasn’t having that though.
Without warning, your head was pushing shoved down onto his cock, your hands quickly gripping his thighs for support as you gagged around the shaft in your mouth, not even fully taking him and already you were choking. He didn’t show you much courtesy, pulling you off briefly to let you breathe, watching the spit from his cock connect with your mouth from a long line of saliva. “Picture perfect. Fuck.” He growled, which wasn’t something you’d expected.
However, you weren’t given much time to say anything before you were shoved down on his cock again. This time though, he wasn’t as kind as he kept your head in place. “Come on. You can take it. I know you can. Breathe out of your nose.” He murmured, which you’d complied with that much, using your nose to breathe and try to relax your throat as his hand was using your hair to guide your movements.
As your head bobbed along his cock, your eyes were closing as your tongue was flat on the underside, tracing a vein stretching the throbbing shaft as he was using you as if you were a human fleshlight. His foot had moved between your thighs, chuckling. “Rub that needy cunt on my shoe, I can tell your clenching your thighs together.” He chuckled, lifting his foot up to bump against your clit as the electricity shot through your body.
While his cock was making a brutal assault on your throat, you were reduced to gags and whimpers as your hips rocked against the boots he had on. You were soaked and desperate for anything. However you knew that you had to play his game now. That’s the only way to get what you want in the end. “Fuck. How does it feel to be used? I bet you love it, don’t you? Choking on my cock gets that pretty pussy soaked, didn’t take you for a girl who likes to be roughed up but I’ll take what I can get for sure.” He chuckled darkly, watching as his cock disappeared down your throat as he was shoving your head down more.
At this point, your nose was brushing against his pubic bone as you were tearing up from having to swallow his full shaft, something you didn’t think was possible. It was pitiful how much you enjoyed this, how much you relished in the attention of a man who made it known he’d been stalking you. You should’ve called the police but instead you were sucking his cock while he was roughly thrusting into your mouth, surely bruising your throat in the process. There were no hopes of you being able to talk in a clear voice after this.
“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer’s breathing was shaky, his thrusts in your mouth growing sloppy as he was roughly tugging on your hair to elicit a moan to fall from your lips as your were digging into his shoe even more now, letting the laces of the boot rub against your desperate clit as your slick was coating the shoe. You were meeting his thrusts the best you could as you were bobbing your head, your goal to bring him to climax.
It wasn’t long until you were nearly choking as he was shooting his cum down your throat without warning, his hand shoving your head down more as he was emptying his heavy balls into your mouth and making you swallow everything. The warm cum had your body shivering, his foot eventually moving from between your legs and leaving you desperate as he pulled his cock out of your mouth.
“I can see why your ex came around a lot. Best throat and pussy I’ve ever came across. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He sighed in content while resting his hand against your cheek. “Get up off the floor sweetness.” He instructed, making you quickly follow his orders. However, your heart shattered when he kissed your forehead. “I have to get going for the rest of the night. Heard my phone going off like crazy earlier, which means there’s a case.”
“You better be ready for me when I get back though. Cause I promise that pussy is mine and I intend on making it well known.”
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
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Can we get cherry jks reaction when Mc finally shows her tattoo to jk😊 thanks
A/N: Warnings for sexual tension
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"So." He grins.
"..So." You parrot back, though not as confident.
You're both sitting on his couch again, facing each other. Suddenly, you feel odd. What if he's disappointed by your body? What if he thinks you're a lot prettier than you actually are? And what if he thinks your tattoo is stupid, badly made, or doesn't suit you?
"Do you wanna.. take it off yourself, or..?" He wonders casually, leaning his head a bit to the side.
"..you." You point towards him, unable to really bring yourself to undress. It's not even all that bad- he's gonna be able to see the tattoo without you taking off your bra anyways. You're not gonna have to get naked.
But you kind of want to be, just to see what he thinks of you.
He's clearly scanning your face and rest of you for any sign of discomfort as he scoots closer to you, fingers pulling your shirt out from where you had it tucked into your shorts, before he slowly lifts it up, your hands lift to make it easier for him to pull it over your head.
Of course your underwear would be cute- lace rim sitting snug against your skin, little bows placed right where the straps begin, one singular one right in between the two cups that hold your tits all securely inside.
He actually thought about what they maybe look like. He didn't think they'd look this pretty.
"Can I touch you?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding, his hands surprisingly warm as he smiles, before he leans in a little closer. "Lay back for me a little, yeah?" He asks, voice lower than before, less clear, a lot more breathy. You nod, letting him help you lay back down as he sits right over your legs, knees digging into the couch below so that he doesn't put his weight on you.
He pushes up the hem under your bra, but you notice he's struggling a little not to go too far-
so you move your hands and unhook the back of your bra, catching him off guard as his hands leave you, eyes wide open before he laughs, face resting on your stomach, exhale from his nose tickling your skin.
"God damnit woman, give a man a warning!" He scolds, looking back up at you. "I thought I broke it!" He complains, causing you to laugh as well now.
"Sorry." You apologize, and he shakes his head, before he looks back at you. "You can take it off too." You approve, and he licks his lips, gaze now darkening quite a bit at the prospect of being allowed to do something like that.
He looks almost concentrated as he rids you off your underwear, leaving it to hang over the backrest of the couch to not get lost.
"That's, without exaggeration-" He says, leaning back a bit to look at you. "-the best pair of tits I've ever seen." He nods, playfully acting impressed, like an art-critic looking at a painting revealed. "Like, I know I'm supposed to look at the tattoo but wow.. can I touch them?" He wonders, and you nod- his entire demeanor making you feel awfully comfortable.
His palms immediately take the place of your bra earlier, and he personally thinks his hands are a way better fit and sight than the undergarment.
But maybe that's just him.
The moment he finds the tattoo however, he's interested. Fine lines, some already quite faded, no shadowing whatsoever. It's a simple flower design, very pretty, doesn't need any bold colors or more additions to it.
It's fine as it is. Fits you perfectly.
"I could re-trace those lines here. They're almost invisible- which happens a lot with fine line artworks.." He mumbles, before he notices your thighs move together.
Oh?
One look up reveals your flushed face, and only now does he notice the way his fingers must've continuously brushed over your by now hardened nipples. "But maybe I gotta get more familiar with... the client first." he purrs, hands moving as his body moves to lay lower, now his chin touching your stomach. "Hm?" He wonders, and you whine, unsure what to ask for.
How far does he want to even go? Does he want full on sex, or is he still only teasing you?
"Did you know that some girls can cum from only getting their tits touched?" He asks you boldly, and you shake your head, making him grin, before he runs his thumbs over your sensitive buds, a kiss placed right up onto the lowest part of your sternum.
"Wanna see if you're one of them?"
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sscieloz · 1 year ago
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Sunday afternoon shenanigans
Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader
Synopsis: you were having a Sunday off at the dorm and you were bored out of your mind when you remember Ningning’s vibrator hidden in one of her drawers. you’ve decided to have some fun, after all, but of course Giselle never knocks.
Warnings: smut? I guess. dom!giselle x sub!reader.
Word count: 3.3k
Notes: I HAVE RETURNED MY BELOVEDS. this is my first time ever writing/posting something like this… I was so embarrassed I swear to God. but I did have fun, too! I hope you like it and if there’s anything wrong pls tell me so I can fix it. I won’t check for any errors or mistakes or else I’ll just be too embarrassed and delete it all so enjoy!! luv u kisses. also i wrote vibrator bc I didn’t want to write dildo. so imagine what you will.
Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3
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It was a slow Sunday at the dorm. Karina and Winter had gone out shopping and Ningning was in China on one of her solo schedules, which left you and Giselle alone, all bored and tedious. You’ve been staring at your room’s ceiling (which you shared with Minjeong), for quite a while now, wondering what to do to kill off the boredom. Your mind wandered to something you remembered spotting in Ning’s room, once, when you were looking for a shirt she had borrowed ages ago. Remembering the big, bright-green toy in Ning’s drawers, you’ve impulsively decided you were done waiting for someone gross to finally fuck you; you’d do it yourself, instead.
That thought left you staring at the thing, still eyeing the vibrator suspiciously after wondering if you weren’t just too bored, and all. Surely, Ningning wouldn’t mind (or she would, but you’d by her another weird dildo if she fussed too much about you using it).
However, you had no idea of how that whole sex thing worked in practice. Sure, you’ve watched porn and listened to your bandmates ramble about their escapades, but it simply wasn’t the same. You huffed, frustrated but determined to but an end to it, after all.
“Hey, the girls were wondering if you’d like them to bring something to eat when they get ba-”Giselle stopped herself mid-sentence as she barged into your room, no doubt surprised by the sight of you with your hands down your shorts and the neon green vibrator one of your hands.
You jumped on your bed, pushing Giselle out of the bedroom as you cursed her out.
“What the fuck, unnie? Don’t you ever fucking knock? Doors are closed for reasons.”
You seriously wanted to die. And kill her. Then die and kill her again. You felt your face getting flushed with bright red as you hit your head on the door, hearing your friend’s laugh through the wood.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll just let the girls know you’re not… hungry. For food.” Another laugh echoed, and you knocked your head stronger. “I’m sorry, ok Yn? Let me in… please?”
Giselle was met with silence, as you were still trying to figure out how to flush your head down the toilet after being caught in such a scene by one of your bandmates and best friends.
“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off, ok? It’s like, super natural. It’s not like we don’t masturbate, either.” She kept on talking, and you could picture her looking at her nails with her bored expression, tiny nose and monotonous voice, “In fact, I really should get a new vibrator for myself too. I feel like mine’s fucked up with the batteries or something. Although, of course I won’t get one in that hideous color like yours and-“
“Ugh, it’s not mine!” You said, giving up on ignoring the shorter girl and deleting yourself from earth. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled her by the arms, making sure to close the door well enough this time. “Just shut your fucking mouth, unnie God.” You muttered, preparing yourself to explain the whole situation to her.
(…)
“Why is it so green, though?” You questioned Giselle, turning the vibrator upside down with 2 of your fingers, almost unsure of how to manage it.
The two of you were sitting in your bed after you explained the entire idea to your friend, hoping she wouldn’t find you too pathetic. Thankfully, the only thing that truly made Giselle wrinkle her nose at was the color of the thing.
“How would I know? Ning’s weird as fuck. Maybe it’s a kink of hers or something.” Giselle scoffed, also looking a bit disgusted by the device’s bright color, and you hummed in approval.
It was very Ningning coded, indeed.
The silence after your conclusion was awkward, and you intended to give your friend an excuse to exit your room when she uttered, out of nowhere, “I could help you out, you know.”
“E-excuse me?” You gagged. This afternoon just kept getting odder and odder.
You mean, it’s not like you and Giselle weren’t close, which you were. You’ve changed, bathed and shared more intimate moments together than you could ever remember. It’s just… this was different. Very different.
“I could help you with what you… want.” She sounded almost unsure, even though she nudged you playfully. “Come on, it’s not like you know anything in practice.”
“No need to flatter yourself, huh.”
“I’m just saying,” she continued, ignoring your bitter tone, “that I could make you feel good. And that’s what you want, right? I mean, that’s what sex is about anyway.”
You were still not fully convinced, but you were eyeing her more attentively now. Sensing you were almost giving in, she plucked one of your locks out of your face. “It’s really not the big of a deal you think it is, Yn. It’s just sex, and we’re friends. Right?”
“...Yeah, right.”
This was obviously a stupid, impulsive, brainless idea, to have sex for the first time with one of your bandmates. While your other bandmates weren’t home.
You took a deep breath, nudging Giselle back and laughing as she looses balance and almost falls from your bed.
“Fine. Let’s do it, then.”
(…)
“So... should I just put it in?”
“What? No!” Giselle looks at you with big eyes, giggling a little. She stopped when you kept on staring at her, now realizing you were serious about not knowing how to do this. She took the toy from your hands before frowning at it, then sizing you up. “Well, not at first, at least. You’re not even wet. This way it won’t fit, and it will be too painful.”
“It’ll be painful anyway.” you grumbled, allowing her to spread your legs to place herself between them. Aeri massages your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Not really, no.” she can tell you’re nervous by the way your eyes never meet hers, and you keep twitching as if to fight the urge to close your legs and dress yourself. “It might be uncomfortable at first, but then it’s like... a nice kind of discomfort.” her fingers tease the hem of your shorts, lightly brushing your abdomen. Ever since she’s caught you in your room and offered to help, Giselle has been nothing but patient. “You don’t have to do it, though.” she reminds you, still caressing your body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin and-“
“I-“ you took a deep breath, finally gathering enough courage to stand on your elbows and look at her, although you still sounded unsure. “I do want to do it. I’m just ashamed, I guess. You can admit that it’s a bit pathetic, no problem.”
Giselle giggled again, this time with her fingers accompanying her light posture are they ran through your body, picking on your waist and poking your ribs in the places she knows you feel ticklish the most. You laugh and try to squirm under her touch — you’re taller, much taller, but she is stronger, so she quickly strands you entirely, hands locking your wrists up in your head so you couldn’t move or try to get on top of her.
“Hey, no fair! Let me go!” you plead, but your laughter and the weak way you try to run from her is all Giselle needs to know her mission has succeeded: you’re way less tense now.
“You’re so cute, Yn. it’s adorable, really.” she says, kissing each of your cheeks repeatedly. You try your best not to blush.
Even though you were the group’s maknae, you weren’t often reckoned as such, with your height making you impose and usually not the cute girl type. You didn’t mind it, either; you’d rather jump off a bridge than do aegyo anyway.
One of Giselle’s hands let go of your wrists to make its way down your abdomen again, though the other one kept holding you in place. Her featherlight touches still made you squirm, but she held you with such care, you couldn’t help but to feel safe.
“Is it ok if I take this off?” she asked, gripping at your panties as she scanned you for any reservations. You tensed again, but as you opened your mouth to say it was ok, she cut you, “it’s ok, then. We’ll just push it to the sides.”
Giselle knew how insecure you were about your body. The girls were always teasing you and karina for wearing the clothes with most fabric, and you often laughed about it. It was only now, in your newest comeback, that you were beginning to try new things and riskier, revealing outfits. She never understood it, though. You were praised by numerous knetz about your body; how toned, and athletic you were, with your long legs and gracious arms, fit for a supermodel. Which you have been since your teens, for a fact. The company had recently signed you off with Valentino and you were absolutely outstanding walking in Paris Fashion Week, which Karina had also attended, though not as a model. She did try her best to always praise how beautiful you were, though, to make sure you knew it.
True to her word, Aeri tapped your hips, and you raised them as she slipped your shorts past your legs and threw them on your bedroom floor. Your panties were pushed to the sides, as promised, but before her fingers could reach your pussy, the older girl lifted herself up from between your thighs, a slight frown on her face.
“What’s wrong, Unnie?” You asked her, looking for any signs of trouble in her yourself. Did you do anything wrong? Should you touch her, too? Does she even want to be touched? Fuck, you were so bad at this. Perhaps if you were any bolder, you would’ve gotten laid already and wouldn’t be in this pathetic situati-
“It’s all ok, Yn-,” Giselle reassured you, squeezing your hips to snap yourself away from your thoughts and back to her, to this. Now that you noticed it, she was gripping each of your thighs with her hands, and her face was too close to your core. Too fucking close. You felt your face get hot and a familiar sensation build up on your lower abdomen. (You weren’t a total prude, of course you’ve touched yourself before, even if it wasn’t often.). “I think my fingers will hurt you if we do them now, though. But don’t worry, I’ll prep you up.”
“What do you mean with prepping me u-oh fuck,” you drop your head on the bedside as she finally gave your pussy a long lick, delighting herself as she saw how responsive you were. Smaller, quieter ones followed, and soon the older girl was nearly making out with her dripping cunt.
You bit your lip, trying not to make any noise, but soon your bandmate’s fingers brushed your lips, forcing their way in.
“Don’t silence yourself,” she told you, watching you suck on her thumb so prettily. It made her so aroused to see how good you were at this. At following commands—her commands. It made Giselle want to rip the rest of your clothes and take you until you were crying for her to let go of you. “It will feel better if you let the sounds out, trust me.” She cupped your jaw before going back to eating you out, so you did as told, not bothering to hide how good this was making you feel at all.
“Ok...” you mumbled, moaning loudly as she teased you with her mouth. You arched your back whenever Aeri slipped her tongue into your dripping cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. The friction it made was out of this world, and you felt the waves of pleasure building up slowly but deliciously to create an entirely new feeling.
“Is it good?” She asked, her hot breath on clit before she gave it a light suck. You nodded, “Tell me.”
“S’too good, oh fuck.” You managed to answer her, breathless. One of your hands grabbed her hair, and you tried to shove her face even deeper into your pussy, but it made Giselle stop instead. You rolled your eyes at her. She was too bossy. “Sorry, unnie. More, please?” You were rewarded, then, as Giselle’s attention went back to your clit, circling it hard and fast as her hands pulled on your panties with enough strength to rip it off.
She grabbed your thighs and gave your clit a hard suck, making you almost scream. You cried loudly as you were hit by a hard wave of pleasure, with Giselle still licking you through your high, her eyes trained on your frame.
She got up and made her way up to you, promptly kissing you with her lips smeared with your juices. “Next time, tell me when you’re close, ok?” She asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You nodded, still brushing her lips.
You could feel her hands in the hem of your hoodie and your shirt, and she stopped the kiss to gesture for you to get your arms up, which you did. Soon you were bare to her, a bit shy from the way her eyes were darkened and she stared at your chest with such lust. You tried to cover yourself, but Giselle was quick to replace your hands with hers instead, cupping your breasts eagerly.
“So pretty, Yn...” she said, and soon you two were making out again, with you on her lap. Your brain had long been reduced to mush and your sole focus was on Giselle: the way her hair was perfectly in place, hands running through all your body.
She was painfully clothed, though, you noticed. A clear contrast to your exposure. You told her just that, trying to get off of her so she’d undress too, but you weren’t allowed.
“Of course I am, silly.” She smiled at you, “This isn’t about me anyways.” And as she reached for you once again, you couldn’t find much strength to be bothered enough to argue, too busy with her kisses and touches. You couldn’t muster how long the two of you spent like that, just exploring each other’s bodies, but it was long enough for you to feel the heat building up on your core a second time, making you worry you were making a mess on Giselle’s thigh.
You tensed when you felt her fingers brushing your entrance, not quite entering but teasing, gathering your slick before going up on your clit, circling it for a few times then presenting themselves again on your pussy.
“Shh, it’s ok,” she cooed, placing wet kisses on your neck. She gently sucked on your pulse point, making you drop your head and moan embarrassingly loud. Thank God the girls were out. “It’s just one finger. You’ve taken fingers before, right?”
You shook your head, whining when you felt it enter you. It burned a little, and it was clearly too tight, but you already felt your entire body burning up. It was too good to stop. She stopped the work on your neck to stare at you, and you saw her eyes darken.
“No fingers? Not even yours?” She gripped your thighs harder, urging you to answer, but you were too busy rocking yourself against her hand to create more friction, anything to deepen this feeling that was already so, so good, “Answer me when I talk to you, yn.” Giselle’s tone was harsh, and you flinched a little. She curled another finger inside you, making you rock yourself onto her faster.
“It d-didn’t do anything when I did it by myself before, so I would just p-play with my clit until I came-oh God.” You squeezed your eyes as she added a second finger, increasing her rhythm.
She was breathless, too, you noticed as she kissed your chest, pinching your nipples and sucking on your breasts without caring if it was messy.
“Fuck, yn. You’ll drive me fucking insane” she murmured. You couldn’t even answer, reduced into a pool of cries and whimpers, but it just felt so good it made you want to cry. How could you have gone so long without it?
Giselle’s grip on you was strong, whether it was in your arms, hips, or thighs, and it would surely bruise later, but you didn’t care a single bit. All you wanted was for her to go harder and faster, not stopping.
“Unnie, please.” You pleaded, searching for her lips as you kissed her sloppily. “More, please, please, ah...” now you were deeply thankful that jimin and minjeong were out. There was no way your moans weren’t being echoed through the entire dorm.
It didn’t matter, though, because your cries rewarded you with an even faster pace, and the pain of being stretched as now only a reminder of the combo of sensations you were feeling.
“You’re such a mess right now, yn.” Giselle told you, her hands on your hips to keep you grinding on her without losing the fast pace. “So, so pretty.” She praised, pecking your lips.
You got shy, hiding your face in the crook of her neck to keep her from noticing how much that aroused you, feeling the familiar heat gathering in your belly.
“Aeri stop, I-I’m gonna,” you motioned to stop, but she only gripped you tighter.
“It’s ok, baby, don’t stop. Come for me.” She commanded, working her fingers even faster as she added her thumb to your clit and circled it fast. With a few strokes, you came.
Your vision went black, and you felt your body go numb, almost as though there were a million fireworks exploding inside of you. You felt Giselle’s hand on your back, tracing light circles as she held you close, still snuggled to her. You took your time evening your breaths, and a few minutes passed until you felt strong enough to get out of her lap and lay in bed, staring at her attentively.
“That was...” you didn’t even know what to say. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” You told Aeri, meeting her gaze.
She licked her fingers clean, the ones who were buried deep inside you just a few moments ago, letting them go with an audible ‘pop’.
“You did very good, baby.” She said, hugging you gently. “I’m glad you liked it. I told you it was good.”
“I guess.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds. It had been intense, but now you felt like a big-ass truck had run over you multiple times.
The sound of the shower being turned on made you open your eyes again, seeing Aeri besides you, a glass of cold water in your hands.
“Here, take it,” she motioned to you, who complied immediately, drinking it all pretty fast. “How about you take a bath now, huh? The girls might be back anytime.” You nodded, not wanting them to see you like that, and you took the hand Giselle offered to get up and go to the bathroom.
You did see something green displayed on the ground when you’ve reached your bathroom door, though, and you laughed a little to yourself.
“Unnie?”
“Yeah, Yn?”
“We didn’t even use the vibrator.” You pointed it out, seeing Aeri’s big smirk. The girl’s mouth opened in a fake motion as she grabbed it, taking it out of the room with her.
“I guess we forgot. We’ll have to save it for next time, then.” She winked at you, leaving you to shower alone.
Giselle would be caught dead if she wasn’t going to corrupt you all to herself.
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regressionschool · 11 days ago
Text
Voting Like a Good Boy
Toni’s tummy fluttered as he stepped into the voting booth, his hand trembling slightly as Mommy guided him. Her presence was calming, but his nerves were still on edge. His thick diaper crinkled softly beneath his pants with every movement, a constant reminder of who was really in charge. Mommy stood behind him, watching carefully as he looked at the ballot in front of him. “Go ahead, baby,” she whispered softly, her voice sweet but firm. “Vote for the matriarchy, just like we talked about.” His heart pounded as he hesitated for a moment, his fingers shaking as he made the mark under Mommy’s watchful gaze. She smiled approvingly, reaching down to give his padded bottom a gentle pat. With the ballot cast, Mommy leaned in, brushing his cheek with a kiss. “Such a good boy,” she cooed, her hand lingering on his lower back as they stepped out of the booth. But just as they exited the privacy of the voting station, Toni felt Mommy’s hand tugging at the waistband of his pants.
“Mommy…” he began, his face flushing a deep red as she pulled his pants down without a second thought. The cool air rushed over his legs, exposing his diaper in full view of everyone around them. His pants dropped to the floor, leaving his thick, crinkly Pampers completely on display. He instinctively reached down to pull his pants back up, but Mommy stopped him with a gentle touch, shaking her head. “Oh, no, sweetie,” she said with a teasing smirk. “You won’t need these anymore.” Toni’s eyes widened as Mommy scooped up his pants and tucked them away into her bag, leaving him standing there in just his diaper and shirt, which barely covered the waistband. His face burned with embarrassment as people around them glanced his way, some giggling quietly while others smirked knowingly. He tried to tug his shirt down, but it did little to hide the colorful, cartoon-decorated diaper beneath it.
Bending down, she peeled the backing off the "I Voted" sticker and, with a playful smirk, pressed it right onto the front of his thick, crinkly diaper. "There we go," she said, standing back to admire her work. "Everyone should know what a good little boy you are.“ Toni’s face turned bright red as they began to leave the polling station. His diaper was completely exposed, the "I Voted" sticker plastered on the front, as if to announce to the world that not only had he voted, but he’d done so in full baby attire. His tummy fluttered even more as women passing by smiled knowingly, their eyes lingering just a little too long on the sticker and the thick padding below it. "Such a good boy," one of the women remarked with a grin, giving Mommy a nod of approval.
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Toni swallowed hard, unsure if he should feel embarrassed or proud. Mommy seemed thrilled, walking beside him with her arm protectively wrapped around his shoulders, occasionally giving his padded bottom a pat. But it wasn’t all smiles. Some men glared at him as he passed, their eyes full of disdain.
“Traitor,” one man muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he walked by. Toni’s heart sank, but before he could say anything, Mommy stopped and turned toward him. “Don’t pay them any mind, sweetheart,” she said, her voice firm but kind. "When the results are in, those men will be back in diapers just like you. They’ll see soon enough that Mommy knows best."
He nodded, trying to ignore the burning heat in his cheeks. Mommy’s confidence washed over him, making him feel just a little bit braver. As they walked home, his waddle exaggerated by the thick diaper between his legs, Toni realized that no matter what anyone thought, Mommy was proud of him. And in the end, that was all that mattered.
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