#sorry just thought I’d add that lol
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countfagulaa · 6 months ago
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Nameless ghoulette outfit for tomorrow. Happy Ghovie eve to those watching it tomorrow.
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yanderederee · 1 year ago
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The head-canons that could be written for this on new canon info is too great—
First order of business: Hakkai is #1 Mitsuya Fangirl with idol lights, headbands, tee shirts and everything
Angry as drummer makes so much sense. He doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time, he just has that good of beat awareness and rhythm control.
Kazutora BEEN knowing how to play Guitar. He and Baji tried learning together, but Baji kind of got bored of it.
I could write guitarist Baji headcanons for days, but my first line of thought is that playing couldn’t keep his interest.
Kazutora has naturally long fingers that make reaching all the notes really easy. He’s very good, and learns all his favorite songs as practice before the band was even put together.
Akkun thought learning base would make him look cool, initially. He liked the deep cords and also caught on pretty fast.
Akkun’s always has spare guitar picks on him, which is great when Kazutora always forgets his.
Mitsuya…….. now Mitsuya-
He just naturally has beautiful vocals. He’s written a lot of solo songs where he can express his vocal range.
Luna and Mana Love listening to their brother, and often he will sing them lullabies of his own creation to sleep …
The Band is definitely more Punk Tone.
They all try to write songs together, but they can never agree on anything when working collaboratively like that.
They all actually get along really well, and don’t fight often. It’s just that while they play great together, they’re not often on the same page with collaborative ideas.
Just how Angry just flows well with whatever beat Akkun and Kazutora give him, Mitsuya will just listen to them play and come up with genius lyrics to match
Kazutora does better when he’s given a script, or cord inspiration.
“Play something close to Asterisk*, and we’ll go from there.” “Okaaay!”
Idk that’s all I got I know it’s silly and nothing but.
If you come up with more headcanons pls tag me in them ♡ preferably something with more Angry !!
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etherealcockring · 2 years ago
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Out of weed
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justsomeguycore · 2 years ago
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florence + the machine / 9-1-1 / phoebe bridgers
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pboogerswbb · 2 months ago
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TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II
Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc
Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr
Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)
A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH
-
It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.
“You okay babe?”
I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.
I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.
Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.
I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.
“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.
I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.
Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?
I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day
Valerie?
I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.
Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.
“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.
“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..
I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.
-
I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes. 
All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.
Bro are u alive?
I’m gettin worried lowkey
i’m fine paige
Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.
I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.
“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.
“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does. 
“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.
“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.
KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?
It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.
“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.
“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”
KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.
I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.
“Then what do I say to Zoe.”
“Wh- Zoe?” 
KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”
“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.
“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.
KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”
“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.
“Ted’s tonight?” 
KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.
“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”
“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”
“KK.” I say sternly
KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.
-
The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.
“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.
“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.
“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”
“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.
Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.
“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.
Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.
I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.
“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.
“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.
“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.
Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.
“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.
“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.
“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.
“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.
“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.
“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.
“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.
“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.
Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.
“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.
I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.
I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted. 
“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.
But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.
“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips. 
“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.
She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better. 
I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.
“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.
It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.
“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.
My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.
“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.
The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.
“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.
“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too. 
“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.
“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.
“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.
“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.
She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.
I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.
Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.
“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.
“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”
My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.
“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,
I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.
“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.
My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.
“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.
“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.
I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.
“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.
KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.
I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.
“Bro you have feelings for her.”
Oh?
Oh.
My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.
“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up. 
KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.
With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.
-
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NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE
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ohbueckers · 2 months ago
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HEART OF A WOMAN. i put the blame on me for giving you chance after chance … it’s my mind and my soul versus your pride.
00, PROLOGUE. AND THIS IS JUST THE INTRO.
ju speaks. finished this quicker than expected so thank you to that anon for getting me on it early LOL. find the masterlist link to all parts on my blog. lmk your thoughts! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. language, angst, toxicity, cheating, etc … general warning!
flashback, april, 2025.
paige: i love you 3:49am
nailea: ?
i love you too
is everything good?
read 4:02am
paige: yeah i’m good baby
missing you ao baD
paige edited a message: missing you
nailea: i’ll see you so soon
i’m sorry i couldn’t make it today
i’m really proud of you
read 4:09am
you’d think by now i’d be numb to it. that i’d learned the script—memorized the lines, the rhythm of it. but as i sit here, scrolling through her saved chats with her, i don’t feel numb. i feel fucking dumb.
it’s not even the months i spent doubting her, the nights i’d start an argument because i just knew she was lying, only for her to stare at me with those wide, innocent eyes and make me feel like the problem. no. it’s knowing that three nights ago, when she texted me after the game, telling me she loved me, that she missed me—that wasn’t real. that was just her guilt talking, a cheap cover-up. because that night, after winning her precious championship, paige found someone else to help her celebrate. and all because i couldn’t be there.
i don’t even have it in me to appreciate the short time she wasn’t doing anything behind my back. we’d had a conversation, a serious one, and it was enough for a bit. but there’s pictures, videos, a few from that night, and i feel sick.
the door opens behind me, and i barely flinch.
“yo, i forgot my—“ my bloodshot eyes meet hers, still holding onto the faintest trace of a smile. she has to notice i’ve been crying. has to see what she’s done.
it’s only been ten minutes. the breakfast spot’s close, maybe two blocks. she must’ve turned around. guilt? instinct? doesn’t matter now.
“nai.”
i glance down at her open phone, and so does she. i can’t see her reaction, but i’m sure it’s anything but pleasant. “oh, i can’t even fucking look at you,” i spit, letting out a breathy laugh as i push myself to stand, heading towards the door.
before i can even take a step, she’s in full defense mode. paige tosses her keys onto the bed with a clatter, closing the door behind her, planting herself firmly in front of it like she’s ready to block my any attempt to walk out. “you’re not leavin,’ bro. hold on.” she furrows her eyebrows, mumbling more to herself as she pulls me away by my arm. quite effortlessly might i add, i couldn’t really fight it.
“move, paige,” i demand. i just want out. want to be anywhere she isn’t.
“nah, we’re gonna talk. sit your ass down.”
“about what?” i laugh, cold and bitter, as i wipe my face again. she’s stupid for thinking i’ll listen to anything she says now, i know that much. “about how you played in my face, yet again? how you kept telling me to trust you when i knew better? or maybe we’ll talk about how the second i wasn’t here, you went right back to her.”
she wasn’t special. she isn’t. i’m sure paige doesn’t even know her middle name. she was just… there. someone to sex her up the way i couldn’t from across the country. it wasn’t like we didn’t see each other every chance we had, but i’ll be damned to let her live a double life. i wish i wasn’t so in deep.
paige steps forward, her hand reaching for mine, eyes softening in some pathetic attempt at damage control. “look, it was one night, alright? it was a mistake, nai, you gotta chill.”
chill.
i yank my hand back. “how many times does one night happen with you, huh?” i squint. “because this isn’t just one mistake, paige. this is you, every time.” the word tastes sour, and i spit it right back at her.
i’m not a doormat. i’m not one of the girls paige bueckers happened to pick up on her way to the top. i was here from the very beginning, and i couldn’t fathom how that wasn’t enough for her. all you could ever want is to grow into love with someone, but paige and i only go backwards, and i don’t think i’m capable of sitting around and letting that happen anymore.
paige’s mouth twists, some shadow of remorse that’s barely visible as she shifts from foot to foot. her hair’s still tousled from last night, strands falling across her forehead, a disheveled mess that somehow makes her look both beautiful and utterly wrecked. it makes my stomach turn—how i’d been unknowingly in the same spot as another girl just a few days ago, her hands roaming through that same hair, leaving their mark where mine should have been.
“let me get it right this time then.” paige’s head tilts back slightly, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that’s almost hypnotic, like she’s daring me to believe her, to give her yet another chance. i hesitate, against all logic, caught up in her. for a second, the anger knots itself up, caught in my throat, tangled in the remnants of whatever feelings she hasn’t managed to destroy.
we just stand there, inches apart, eyes locked, her breath barely steady, mine coming in tight and shallow. her hand lifts again, just slightly, as if she’s about to reach for me again, and i feel that familiar pull—like i’m right on the edge of giving in, of letting her words undo the mess she’s made.
my eyes glance down at her phone in my hand, and i can’t help but think about how sick i am of fucking words.
before i can second-guess myself, my hand jerks forward, and i launch her phone across the room. it skids across the floor, clattering against the wall, and she turns at the sound, head lolling against the door.
paige’s hand slides down her face as she lets out a low, humorless chuckle, her shoulders slumping back. her gaze flicks from her phone again, undamaged but undeniably thrown by an angry girlfriend ex, and then back to me, all narrowed. “you throwin’ my shit now?”
“fetch it. matter fact…” paige’s mouth opens, then closes as she watches me rip her oversized tee off like it’s some dirty rag. the shirt hits her chest and slides down to the floor, and she just stands there, staring at it with her jaw clenched so tight i can practically hear her grinding her teeth. “you can take all your shit back with it. i’m done,” i seethe.
paige looks back up, scoffing. “oh, you’re done?”
i turn on my heel, making my way to my suitcase. paige doesn’t move as i fall to my knees, throwing one of my own shirts over my head. i’m packing my things up frantically, silently, and i can tell it makes her feel unsettled.
“you’re not leaving, nailea.” she doesn’t sound so sure of herself now, and that only makes me move quicker.
i sniffle, even though i’m way past being sad over this. “i’ll stay with az until i can catch a flight. and i’ll ship all your stuff to storrs once i’m back.” i’m declaring my plan out loud, though i’m sure the mounds of her belongings that’ve accumulated in my apartment over the years is the last thing on her mind.
but then she moves, steps around the suitcase, stopping me with a quiet urgency, her fingers reaching toward my face. i pull back instinctively, turning my head, but she follows, her hands slowly cupping my head, steadying me as if i’m the one slipping. “paige, stop.” i mutter, shrugging my shoulders, trying to shake her off. but her fingers tighten, her eyes softer, pleading.
“c’mon…” she whispers. and then, slowly, she sinks down to her knees, meeting me there, her eyes desperately searching mine.
i swallow, hard, stopping my movements. “quit—“
“lemme fix it.” she mumbles, the words laced with something i can’t decipher, something that might’ve been real if it didn’t come too late.
i look up, and for the first time, i see something that almost looks like panic in her eyes. her thumb is focused on tracing the tear streaks on my cheek, and i have to force myself to think about why they’re there in the first place. because of her.
i don’t give her a chance to say another word. “you should’ve thought about that before there was anything to fix,” i say softly.
i turn away, reaching to grip the zipper of my suitcase. the metallic sound rips through the quiet, and it’s the finality of it that makes it feel like the right choice, like i actually just let go.
but with paige, nothing ever stays that simple, that clean.
382 notes · View notes
bussyslayer333 · 7 months ago
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‘cause you’re so smooth
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summary: phoenix invites the boys to her salsa class, big mistake.
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader
word count: 3k+
warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, suggestive nature lols, me not knowing anything about salsa
my return to writing with a fic i teased over a year ago!! i hope you all enjoy
ps requests r open :p
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“Nix, if you think I want to spend my Sunday evening learning to salsa dance with a bunch of soccer moms then I think your concussion hasn’t healed properly.” Jake sasses in response to Nat’s invitation.
“Yeah, I’m sorry Nat but Sunday is my chill out day, when else am I gonna beat Fitch’s ass on cod?” Fanboy reasons.
Natasha knew it was a stretch asking the boys to join her salsa dancing class, but she thought it was important for them to get out more. At the moment, seemingly all they did was trudge from work to the Hard Deck over and over again.
She sighs, “it would be good for you guys to get out more, y’know?”
“I’ll go, Nat,” Bob smiles, nodding to her from where he is perched on a stool behind her.
“Thank you, Bob.” Nat nods back to him, “the rest of you can suck it.”
“Hey!” Bradley yells as he appears back from the bar, beers in tow, “what did we say about using that type of language?”
“Shut up Dadley,” Nat rolls her eyes as Bradley flicks his tongue out before handing her a beer.
“As much as I’d truly love to attend that class ‘Nix, I’m already a salsa pro and I wouldn’t want you to feel embarrassed about your skills,” Bradley declares, before taking an obnoxious sip of his beer.
“Yeah fuckin’ right, and my dad is prima ballerina,” Jake snorts.
“Let’s not discredit Papa Seresin, I saw him tear Boogie Wonderland up at your sister’s wedding.” Coyote nods.
“Yeah and even that shit was better than what Rooster could pull off,” Jake decides.
Bradley only shrugs at the jibe, a lazy smirk plastered onto his face, which serves only to piss Jake off more.
“Dance off?” Fanboy proposes, standing to head to the jukebox.
“No?” Jake frowns.
Fanboy drops back to his seat with a sigh, “was worth a shot.”
Nat shakes her head with a snort and brings the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“Look it’s fine, I’m just saying I think you guys would enjoy it!” She reasons.
“I’m sure it’ll be fun!” Bob adds happily.
Nat can only sigh at the lack of response.
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Bob is already waiting outside the community centre when Nat arrives, looking down and nervously picking at a thread on the bottom of his gym shorts.
“You ready?” Nat questions, trying to alleviate his nerves.
When Bob looks up his brows unfurl and he lets a small smile sip onto his face.
“Yeah, sure, let’s do this!” He pumps his fist a little awkwardly.
Nat can only chuckle in response as she makes her way to the room at the left of the reception where the class is held. You’re stood by the door chatting with one of the older women in your class when Nat comes into your view.
“Natasha! How’s my best student?” You tease, stepping towards her.
“I’m great, thanks!” Nat blushes before gesturing to Bob, “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend.”
Bob sucks in a breath as you finally lock eyes with him. Shit. You were beautiful and those leggings were doing you an undoubted amount of favours.
Sadly, Bob had an incredibly annoying habit he was unable to shake. It was known as “embarrassing himself in front of beautiful women” and that seemed to strike him just as you stuck your manicured hand out to shake his own.
The breath that Bob had sucked in caught in his throat which was drying up increasingly as he took you in, leading to an unprecedented coughing fit doubling him over. What seemed to make it worse was your shocked gasp and immediate move to lean over him and pay his back gently. Bob tried not to focus on your cleavage directly next to his face and instead on regulating his breathing. It was proving difficult, especially when he could hear Nat cackling at his misfortune from behind him.
Once almost fully back to normal, you squeeze his bicep and chuckle,
“I don’t think I’ve ever quite literally taken someone’s breath away!” You giggle, voice oh so sweet.
Bob can’t even let himself feel embarrassed with the way your soft hand feels on his arm.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he cringes.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile reassuringly.
Nat is growing seemingly agitated by Bob’s lingering near the door so she steers him forwards away from you.
“Best get set up!” She announces, dragging him into the room.
The classroom is spacious, a high ceiling and large windows on the left wall. The wall facing the door is covered in mirrors that amplify the light in the area.
Before Bob can speak up again, two men who look to be in their late 40s rush over towards Natasha. They’re the complete opposite of one another, the first who reaches for Natasha is tanned and has dark curling hair with flecks of grey throughout.
“Natasha! Darling it is so great to see you!” He exclaims with a slight accent, holding her hand in his.
The other has embraced the grey in his hair, he’s relatively pale but has clearly kept his physique, he nods towards Bob with a glint of something in his eye, “I thought he wasn’t your type?”
Nat snorts, clueing Bob in finally on what the two men were hinting at.
“My best friend, boys don’t worry,” she teases.
“Thank God, I’ve been trying to set you up with my niece for how long now?” The dark haired man smiles.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m always busy at the moment,” she shrugs apologetically before turning back to Bob, “Bob this is Marco and Luke.”
They both shake his hand and size him up as they do so, the grey haired one (Luke) declares.
“He’s cute, Nat, where have you been hiding him?” He prods.
Bob exhales at the approval and watches as Nat breaks out into laughter. “Away from you!”
Marco and Luke break into laughter alongside Nat and Bob can’t help himself but join. Just as they’re all catching their breath, Bob jumps out of his skin again as he feels his hand on his shoulder.
“Boys, we’re being welcoming to our newcomer aren’t we?” You hum.
Your hip is touching Bob’s and the soft skin of your hand on his shoulder has him malfunctioning, luckily he isn’t forced into replying (or choking) this time.
“Of course we are beautiful, what do you think of us?” Marco gasps in faux shock.
“I think that I know what you two are like,” you roll your eyes before making your way to the front of the room.
You send Bob a sly wink before finally beginning, “It’s so great to see you all again!”
Everyone in the room blurts out greetings at you as you begin, “We’ll continue on from last week,” you strut over to the stereo in the corner and a latin pop track floats out into the room and Bob vaguely recognises the tune.
Marco and Luke are quick to start fluidly moving around the floor space and Bob notices that others in the room are doing the same. You make your way quickly over to him and place your hand on the small of his back, straightening his posture.
“I don’t expect you to get it immediately,” you smile into his ear, “we’ll start off with some basics and turn variations.”
Bob hopes you can’t see the nervous perspiration already forming on the back of his neck and nods a little too eagerly at your words. He looks back to Nat for some encouragement but she’s already dancing and chatting with a group of women next to the tall windows.
“I don’t bite,” You giggle, shocking Bob who looks back to see you holding your hand out for him to grab onto.
“Sorry, I’m not the best dancer-” Bob’s self depreciation is swiftly disrupted by you placing his hand on your waist and the other in your own.
“All the more for me to work with,” you smile, and Bob feels himself smiling back.
Although a tad clunky, Bob manages not to step on your toes and has some surprisingly fluid hip movement which intrigues you ever so slightly.
By the last ten minutes of the class, Bob is twirling Marco around as Luke and Nat chat to you about technique.
“What were you nervous about?” Marco probes Bob, “you’re a natural!”
Bob can only chuckle shyly in response and he glances over at your frame. Marco seems to notice Bob’s longing glances and slowly stops their dance.
“Go for it.”
“What?” Bob splutters.
“She’s been making googoo eyes at you the whole time mister, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”
Bob reels for a moment at Marcos admission before straightening up. “You think?”
Marco rolls his eyes. “I know.”
Before Bob can reach you you’re already strutting back towards the stereo to lower the volume of the music and gather everyone’s attention.
“Thank you so much everyone! You’ve all been brilliant today and I can’t wait to see you next week!” You beam at everyone.
People begin to gather to chat and start to disperse and you begin to gather your own belongings, stopping to make conversation with others as you do so. Luke and Nat join Bob and Marco with sly smirks on their faces.
“So…” Nat begins, “You’ll be coming back next week I presume?”
Bob flushes at Nat’s knowing look. “Yeah,” he looks to you, “definitely.”
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Bob didn’t mean to let it slip. Like seriously, his lips were so sealed. Air tight.
“But HOW hot are we talking?” Mickey slurs over the nth shot he’d done with Bob at the Hard Deck’s happy hour.
So maybe not air tight.
It was Thursday evening and the rest of the daggers had politely declined drinks with Fanboy, but Bob (the ever dutiful friend) had accepted, hoping to be in and out within the hour. But alas, here they were.
“Fuckin’ smoking,” Bob mimes an explosion with his hands as Mickey nods enthusiastically to his answer.
“I choked on air when I saw her and almost popped a boner during a Justin Timberlake song,” Bob continues to ramble, once given the chance to talk about you he clearly wasn’t going to stop.
“And when is this class?” Mickey slumps closer to Bob, tequila breath hot on his neck.
“Ummmm, Sunday evening at 6 I think?” Bob nods, remembering the details Nat had sent him in a text the week previous.
“Good to know,” Mickey hums, reaching his hand forward to signal for another round, knocking someone’s drink over in the process. “Oops.”
Bob is quick to drag Mickey away from the bar top after that, realising they’d probably overdone it a tad for a weekday evening.
As the cool sea breeze hits Bob’s flushed face whilst him and Mickey wait outside the Hard Deck for their uber, he can’t help but let his mind drift to you, what you were potentially up to, do you teach other classes during the week? Do you dance professionally? God, you definitely could, the way your hips moved-
Bob shook his head, as if to get the image of you stuck in his mind out. He looked to Mickey hanging off of his arm, he was looking to the ground and shaking as if to stave off the imminent vomit that was about to leave his mouth any second now.
“Let’s get you home man,” Bob pats Mickey on the head, dragging him towards their Uber pulling up.
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“Hey, Bob!” Nat yells across the parking lot, catching the back of her friend’s tall frame leant against a pillar near the front of the community center.
When Bob turns around, Nat notices two people next to him who she was not expecting to see.
“Fitch? Fanboy?” Nat cocks her head to the side. “I thought you guys were too busy to come?”
Nat’s accusatory eyes meet Bob’s sheepish expression as he awkwardly clears his throat.
“We heard the teacher was hot as fuck.” Payback shrugs.
Fanboy giggles next to him in excitement, “I’ve been practicing-”
“Bob I swear-” Natasha begins, finger pointing right into Bob’s chest.
“Sup, biatches!” Jake yells, alerting everyone of his and Javy’s presence. “Who’s ready to get their salsa on?”
Nat spins around on her heel, eyes shooting daggers into Jake and Javy.
“Bob, I’m going to kill you.” She states, eerily calm.
“Oh come on Phe! You wanted us here just last week!” Jake exclaims, walking round to slap Bob on the shoulder and greet Payback and Fanboy behind him.
“Yeah! When I wanted you guys to get out and do something productive! Not fuck my lovely salsa teacher, who by the way, was not socialised by wolves! So will absolutely not be charmed by any of you fools!”
With that, Nat turns and walks into the community center, leaving the boys to sprint in after her.
“At least this can’t get any worse,” Nat mutters to herself, pulling the door to your studio open.
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“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nat stills in the doorway, the rest of the boys behind her peeking their heads in.
“What now?” Bob asks guiltily.
Nat opens the door fully and allows the men behind her to file into the studio, where her fellow classmates are stood in a semi circle whooping and hollering at you dancing in the middle with none other than Bradley Bradshaw.
“Fucking Bradshaw,” Jake scoffs, pushing his way ahead whilst checking himself out in the full length mirrors that line the opposite wall of the room.
“Chicken never told us he could dance!” Jake yells over the latin music filling the room, successfully interrupting your dance with Bradley.
Bradley’s head whips to the side at the sound of that familiar ear grating voice. He gives you an apologetic look as he walks over to begin squabbling with a man you presume he knows. The commotion between the boys alerts you to the presence of Natasha and Bob as well as three other unfamiliar men. When Bradley had introduced himself with a smirk and a drawling voice as a friend of Natasha’s you had to wonder whether all of her colleagues were so handsome and by the looks of it, they were.
Nat is quick to walk over to you with an apologetic smile. “I want to apologise in advance for the next hour. They are insufferable.”
You look behind her to where the gaggle of men she calls her close friends are stood, you can see Marco and Luke itching to get their claws in and you have to giggle. This should be interesting.
After instructing the rest of your class to continue practicing the routine you had been working on, you figure it was only fair to come and personally consult your newest joiners.
As the boys (and Nat) notice you wandering towards them, they all begin to elbow each other like school boys giggling amongst themselves. Bob and Nat can only keep their embarrassment internal for so long.
When you come to a stop in front of them, the man you’ve come to learn as Jake smiles dazzlingly and stretches his arms above his head,
“God it is hot in here!” He begins to reach for the bottom of his shirt, aiming to impress you with his toned stomach.
“The A/C is on full blast dumbass.” Nat swats at the back of Jake’s head, causing him to drop his shirt again and rub at his temple. “Ow!”
Snickers fall from Javy and Mickey, who quickly straighten themselves up when they see you casting your eyes over them.
“As I said to Bob last week, with all my new starters I’ll begin with some basics for you guys and then we can ease into a routine,” you smile, heading towards Bradley and Nat.
“Since you two already have some experience you can help me teach!”
Bradley preens under your praise, already assuming the role of teacher’s pet, whilst Nat looks mildly irritated at having to teach her imbecilic friends how to dance.
“Alright guys! let’s partner up!” you shout at them, giggling as they all rush towards you, you note how Bob lingers back behind his more extroverted friends and grin.
“I should clarify, I meant with each other.” You shoo them backwards and watch as they couple up.
Mickey and Reuben clap each other on the back and Javy and Jake nod at one another leaving Bob, stood on his own. You saunter towards him and grab at arm, dragging him to the front with you.
“Looks like you’re with me,” you tease.
“Uh, who do you want me to partner up with?” Bradley scratches at his head obliviously.
You cock your head to the side with a confused laugh.
“I hate you so much right now,” Nat spews, gripping Bradley’s arm and pulling him into position with her.
“Oh, yeah. Right, sorry Nat.” Bradley chuckles.
Your lessons continues with explaining how someone will have to take the lead and the other will follow, and you wander around positioning their hands and postures correctly.
“Javy, you are like a brother to me, but your hands are too fucking low right now.” Jake grits through this teeth.
“Right! Ha, sorry man,” Javy’s hands shoots back up towards the middle of Jake’s back.
Bob is still apprehensive when he places his hands on your waist, but you’re quick to affirm him in his position. Leaning towards him you whisper, “don’t worry you’re still my favourite.”
A smile graces his face at that and he relaxes in your grip.
“Right guys! We’re gonna start with some turns and variations now!”
You quickly learn that trying to wrangle these men is proving difficult, as Payback almost spins Fanboy into a wall after zoning out stating at how your hips moved.
“I’m good bro, don’t worry,” Mickey is quick to readjust himself, hoping the room stops spinning soon.
You can’t help but laugh when Javy attempts to dip Jake to the floor in a move he thought would impress you, but it seems he forgot to account for how tall and heavy Jake is, as he goes toppling down with him.
“Fuck dude! You’re heavy!” Javy groans, rubbing his knee. Jake clearly didn’t take kindly to his words as he shoves back at Javy childishly.
“Boys! Come on get up!” You snap, trying to sound stern but still fighting off giggles.
Jake and Javy are quick to get back on their feet, but you catch them in your peripheral poking and pinching each other when they think you aren’t looking.
Even Bradley who was so light on his feet when he was showing you his moves earlier, is clearly distracted, constantly stepping on Nat’s feet as they practice variations.
“If you step on my toe one more time, Rooster I swear to God, you will not see daylight again,” Nat threatens.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! She’s just so…” Bradley trails off as he watches you dance slowly with Bob, stopping every now and then to correct him kindly or answer questions from others in your class.
“I know! And you guys are scaring her off by acting crazy.” Nat sighs, moving back as she senses Bradley’s feet heading for her toes again.
“I mean I wouldn’t say crazy…” Bradley scratches the back of his neck.
“Well I walked in to see you spinning her around like you’re a pro on dancing with the stars so maybe you should reevaluate.”
“You think I’m that good?” Bradley smirks to himself.
“Oh shut up,” Nat rolls her eyes and looks back to the rest of her friends around the room.
Payback and Fanboy were continually stumbling around in circles as they each try to catch your eye, pissing off everyone else in the room as they bumped and knocked into others. She caught Marco and Luke’s judgy eyes flicking back and forth between her and her friends and groaned.
Jake and Javy looked either one wrong move away from fucking or fighting, Nat couldn’t really tell.
God this was embarrassing.
Luckily, your voice rings out across the room, interrupting her moping.
“Thank you guys for today! And Thank you to my newcomers!” you gesture to the group of men stumbling over each other and stifle a laugh.
“I’ll see you all next week!”
Your regular attenders start filing out slowly, some coming over to chat and collect their things. You can see Nat trying to drag her friends away out they seem intent on lingering long enough to catch some time alone with you.
“You guys might as well go, she clearly wants me.” Jake shrugs, pulling the front of his shirt up to wipe his face.
Mickey is quick to dispute, “Are you kidding me? I twirled like a ballerina, I’m so in.”
Nat is moments away from body slamming her friends who she once loved when it goes silent around her. She figures you finally made you way over.
“Hey guys, thanks so much for joining today! I’m really sorry I’ve got to get going but um- ”
You pause and sense eyes on you.
“Bob, I was just wondering if I could get your number?” you smile, walking towards him and squeezing his arm. “You know, to talk about how we can improve your technique,” your reasoning clear as day even with your coverup
“Yeah! Yes, of course I mean,” Bob composes himself, taking your phone with shaking hands and typing in his number.
“Great,” you wink, retrieving your phone, “I’ll text you.”
You end with that, sauntering past the group and waving goodbye to Nat with a knowing look.
Everyone seems stunned by your words, but mostly Bob who blinks slowly, seemingly still in shock by your acknowledgement.
Nat finally breaks into laughter, doubling over at the confused faces of her other friends.
“Man!” She shouts through her giggles, “you just cannot make that shit up!”
The grumbles around her don’t even phase her as she goes to pick up her bag and head for the door, a group of downtrodden looking men following her and Bob with a newfound pep in his step.
“By the way Rooster, how come you actually are so good?” Nat asks as they make their way into the parking lot.
Bradley stills, silent as he contemplates answering.
“If I tell you, you have to promise to not go searching for anything.” He looks around at his friends.
Following their nods he continues, “I used to compete professionally, when I was like 13, my mom forced me to.” Bradley cringes at the memory of his tween self in sparkly shirts his mom always hand picked out for him in the most hideous colours.
Bradley looks back up to see Jake grinning mischievously at his phone, and his stomach drops.
“Is this you?” Jake smirks, turning his phone around to show everyone an old video on youtube titled.
SALSA NATIONALS 1999 - BRADSHAW / DONNA SUMMER HOT STUFF
Bob suddenly felt as though his coughing fit over you wasn’t the most embarrassing thing he had to witness anymore.
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a/n: it is great to be back gang xx i’ve missed writing and ofc i had to bring back the bob agenda!! it’s what i stand for :) i’m thinking mayhaps a part 2 where i explore the dynamic between sexy salsa teacher and bob bc atm this was just a chance for me to make fun of the daggers 😣
i hope you enjoyed reading and tysm!!
pls reblog, comment or drop me an ask and tell me what you thought!! feedback means sm to me considering i’m a lil rusty
anyways thank u again for reading!!!!
- honey xoxo
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withleeknow · 8 months ago
Note
i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝
me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)
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light years.
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summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi
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I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue
I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier
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One.
Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.
While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.
Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.
And above all, he's got you.
You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.
You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.
Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.
"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"
What does he think?
Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.
Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.
It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.
In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.
You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.
Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.
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Two.
Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.
Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.
But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.
He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.
It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.
As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.
He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.
Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.
He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
"How did it go?" he asks gently.
You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.
"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."
Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.
You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.
Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.
Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.
"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."
Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.
I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.
But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.
"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."
Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.
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Three.
Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.
To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.
You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.
He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?
He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.
You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.
You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."
"Please elaborate."
"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."
Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?
"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."
"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"
And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?
I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.
You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.
For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.
But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.
"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."
Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.
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Four.
Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.
Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.
He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.
You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.
All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.
Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.
"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.
Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.
He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.
You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."
He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.
He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.
Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.
Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.
He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"
"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."
Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.
You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.
"What look?"
"You had a look."
"No, I didn't," Minho insists.
"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"
He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.
"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.
You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."
"What? I'm speaking from experience."
"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"
"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."
Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"
"How do you know they didn't come true?"
"Because..."
Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.
Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.
"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."
There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.
"No, what were you going to say?"
"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.
"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.
What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?
And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.
"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."
He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.
But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.
What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.
Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.
The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.
"I've waited for you long enough."
His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"
You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.
Then it all comes rushing out.
"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."
Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.
If you really love me too.
Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.
He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.
He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.
"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."
You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?
You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"
Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.
Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"
You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.
Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]
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mari-the-bimbo · 1 year ago
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heyyy🫣
Could I ask for choso with the best friends brother trope in a no curses au.
thank you 🤭
Choso: the best friends brother
A/N: I’m sorry I’m sure you meant this in a completely innocent way but I got carried away and made it inappropriate so I stopped half way LOL
Warning: MINORS DNI 18 + , dirty talk, unprotected sex
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Why did your best friends brother Choso have to be so hot??? Long black hair tied back but the front loose strands frames his handsome face so well, his ripped muscular body hiding under his cashmere sweaters. Choso was the bane but also the blessing of your existence.
He’s very kind to you, you reckon that’s where your best friend Yuuji learnt all his good manners from.
Well.. a bit more than kind to be honest.
Big brother Choso would often encourage his little brother Yuuji to bring you over. “She’s a good influence on you” he’ll lie through his teeth, even though he knew you were just as troublesome as his brother, but he refused to see any faults with you <3
“Y/n will you be joining us for dinner hun?” he asks as he towers over you.
There it is, the sweet names he calls you which make your stomach tingle. It may seem normal and platonic to others (aka oblivious Yuuji bless him), but when you notice the smile on his face when you stutter as a result, you know he knows.
Yuuji calls it Choso’s ‘natural instinct for affection’ detailing how he is constantly coddled by his elder. Which is why the pink haired boy doesn’t bat an eye when his big brother places his large hands on your much smaller shoulders when politely moving you out the way, or when his fingers graze your lap accidentally. How could any of this be coincidental, or is he really that naive?
But on one Sunday evening, you happened to strike some luck as you went to Yuuji’s house only to find his hot older brother alone.
“Hello y/n, miss me already?” said the deep voiced man. You laugh at his teasing, it’s better than his dad jokes.
“Hey Choso, uhh is Yuuji in? I thought I’d come over to see him”
“Yuuji’s staying over at Megumi’s, but you’re still welcome here doll, you can have fun with me instead” he said, making you blush at the suggestive remark. You choose to be brave and enter nonetheless.
“Sure” you say as you enter, you almost found your knees buckling at the thought of being alone with Choso and all sorts of fantasies entered your head.
“Come here” Choso calls you as he enters the kitchen, you follow after him. When you look up the black haired man holds out a spoon of his soup near your lips “you can be my little taste tester today, how does this taste?” He says prying your mouth open to taste it, and it’s warm and delicious as usual. “It’s good!” You hum making Choso chuckle.
“Good, I’ve made enough for both of us” he adds, “why? Did you know I’d come over?” You joke, but when Choso turns around to face you with his sleepy but intense eyes, but find yourself regretting that move.
In response, he saunters a step closer to you, making you back up until your back hit the counter, you gasp at the impact but you refuse to tear your eyes away from Choso’s, but as his face leans in, you ignore the butterflies and almost flutter your eyes shut in anticipation until you saw his muscular arm reach out and grab the salt behind you.
“Soup needs a little more salt” he says in your ear before pulling away with a smile that seemed too innocent.
“I-“
“You good? You look a little out of it” he asks and you can’t help but just stare at him in awe. How does he manage to have this much effect on you?
His eyes soften at your lack of response. “Aw you’re just so cute y/n, look at you with soup on the corner of your lips” he chuckles, you immediately snap out of it and bring the back of your hand to your mouth to wipe but a large hand wraps around yours.
“Here let me help you out” he says wiping the corners with his rough thumb, then he notices the sauce that’s now transferred to his thumb, but then he catches you offf caused as he pries your mouth open with his thumb. Your mouth could only muffle sounds in protest, until Choso’s deep voiced seemed like it boomed across the kitchen.
“Lick it off”
You stare at your best friends brother who now towered over you with his eyes expectantly watching your mouth take his thumb. You hesitantly licked the thumb in your mouth, not minding the salty taste because he’s smiling with his teeth biting his bottom lip.
“Mhm that’s right” he says, taking his thumb out, you stare up at him in shock before frowning “you tease!” You complain, making Choso raise his eyebrows before smiling.
He chuckles “awe do you feel teased y/n?” He crouches to your height before whispering “is it because you wanted to kiss?” He asks and you stall momentarily, knowing it’s true.
You shrug, making him look at you with admiration, his eyes twinkled at your cuteness before he shook his head in amusement. “You’re too cute y/n how am I supposed to say no to that?” He says and now you were blushing as you realised what he said “h-hey! I never said I wanted to-“ you defend yourself but it does in your throat as soft lips roughly press against yours. His tongue laps at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock.
You both hum at the contact knowing it’s something you were both yearning for. Choso is quick to grab your entire body easily with one muscular arm and wrap you around him, now your legs were straddled around his waist and your hands flew to the black hair you always wanted to touch.
This was wrong, you really shouldn’t be making out with your best friends brother in his kitchen, but god, Choso was so perfect from his commanding but gentle aura, his large stature and muscular body to his ever so hungry lips. He’s the manliest man.
You mewl a moan as cold large hands fiddle with your trousers, easily being discarded on the kitchen floor, and the cold fingers quickly return to your soaking underwear, fingering your clothed pussy.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Sooo good” you gasp. “Such a little troublemaker aren’t you, couldn’t find anyone your own age huh? Needed to get fucked by your best friends brother?”
Choso was utterly obsessed with his little bro’s best friend. You were so pretty and so sweet, it was too hard to resist the taste.
He continues his ruthless speed on your clothed pussy before yanking off the soaking cotton underwear and leaving your wet pussy exposed to hungry dark eyes. Choso was quick to pull off his own boxers, springing his fat manhood free.
You moan at the sight throwing your head back. You always knew your best friend big brother had a fat cock because of the amount of times you’d stare at the massive bulge sticking out from the grey joggers. And the fat mushroom head staring back at you now was a good example of that.
Choso grabs the fat of your thigh and yanks you closer, he lined the wet tip against your slippery folds. “c’mere princess you’re gonna get fucked now”
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lynnie-ee · 3 months ago
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Inktober Day 1; Pretend.
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╰┈➤"The olive theory says that if one person likes olives, and the other doesn't, they're opposites that attract. The prefect hates olives, yet they always appear on their meals...And Ace seems suspicious about it."
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.2k words.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
⤿
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“I can’t believe they did it again…”
“Is something wrong, Prefect?”
“They put olives on my sandwich again.”
The magicless human sighed, as they left their sandwich on the table under the gaze of their first-year friends. Every time they went to the cafeteria they asked for no olives on their sandwich, and every time they would ignore their request. It was getting tiring, by now, but that sandwich was really good and really cheap.
“Haha! Seems like it’s my lucky day. Your misfortune is my blessing.” Ace replied teasingly, grabbing the sandwich to remove the olives and putting them on his meal.
“Seriously, this is getting annoying. It shouldn’t be that difficult not to add something to a sandwich. If I was allergic, I’d be dead by now.”
“The cafeteria is always filled with people, I’m sure they don’t do it on purpose.” Deuce tried to cheer them up.
“If it’s bothering you so much, I could bring you a sandwich for tomorrow-“ Jack offered, but was quickly interrupted by Epel.
“No, you don’t want to do that.” Stated the Pomefiore student.
“Sorry?”
“You can’t bring sandwiches to the prefect.” Replied Epel, this time with a more intense glare, as if that would allow Jack to read his mind and understand the meaning behind his words.
“And that’s because…?”
“The prefect really likes the sandwiches from here. Isn’t that right?” Deuce answered, a smile on his face as he mentally praised himself for his save.
“I guess so.” The Ramshackle student replied without enthusiasm.
“See? We shouldn’t think so much about it. Class will start soon so-“
“My henchmen may prefer the sandwiches from here but I ain’t no sandwich discriminator! You’re all welcome to bring all the sandwiches you want to the great Grim.” Interrupted the small beast, still munching the rest of the food he was focused eating before he got into the conversation.
“Just eat, Grim.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
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“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Commented Trey. “The ghosts from the cafeteria are very friendly, perhaps you should just ask.”
The vicehousewarden of Heartslabyul walked next to the prefect of Ramshackle through the halls of the school. They had encountered the third year on their way to meet Deuce and Ace, who were waiting along Grim for the prefect to come out of a brief talk they had with Professor Crewel after class.
“You think so?”
“Yes. I can go with you right now, if you’d like. I’m sure the boys won’t mind waiting a few minutes more.”
“I guess you’re right, let’s go.”
They made their way to the cafeteria, chatting about different topics. As soon as they arrived, they talked to the ghost in charge of meals, getting a curious answer.
“I thought you really liked olives, that’s why I always put a lot of them on your meals. You always work so hard, I thought it’d cheer you up!” Was the reply they received.
“But I never said I liked them…”
“Oh, you didn’t. It was Ace who told me.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, and you two seem to be very good friends, so I believed he would be correct.”
The prefect sighed. Of course, Ace did it.
“I’m thankful for your good intentions, but I don’t really enjoy olives, so you can stop putting them on my meals, please.”
“Of course, don’t worry!”
Both students left the room with a confused demeanour, Trey being the first one to ask the question.
“Do you know why he did it?”
“I don’t. To bother me, perhaps, or to get more lives. He always eats them from my sandwiches. He could have just asked for them on his meals instead of mine!” They answered, an annoyed frown adorning their face, which soon turned into a curious one, when they saw the confusion expression on the vicehousewarden’s expression. “Is something the matter?”
“Ace doesn’t like olives, either.”
“What?”
“He has asked a bunch of times to let him know if there are olives in the food, so he won’t eat them.”
“That can’t be. He always seems ecstatic to take them from my sandwiches; I don’t get why-“ They were interrupted by Trey’s laugh.
“Perhaps you should ask him, then.”
⤿
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⤿
“Hey, hey, slow down! You’re gonna break my arm!” A certain first-year complained, as the magicless student brought him to a more secluded area outside the school.
“You’re annoying!”
“Can I at least know why am I being dragged in this way?!”
“You’re ruining my food!”
“I never-“
“Why did you tell the cafeteria ghosts that I like olives? You know I hate them.”
 “That’s…because I wanted free olives, that’s it. Don’t think too much about it.”
“Trey said something very different to me, you know…”
Ace’s behaviour changed, his expression screaming ‘I got caught’, as they stop in the middle of the yard, (Y/n) quickly letting go of Ace’s arm.
“…Why did you even ask Trey that?”
“Ace.”
“C’mon, you’re making a big deal out of something very small-“
“Ace.”
“Prefect.”
“Ace.”
“Fine! I’ll tell you!” The first year surrounded quickly. “It was just an accident, okay?”
“An accident? For a month straight?”
“…Well, it was the first two times.” He murmured, looking away. “Like, I think the first time they just forgot and the second time they mixed the orders, I’m not really sure. The cafeteria is just like that sometimes, you know?”
The Ramshackle student just stared at him, a bored expression adorning their face, silently asking him to continue his explanation.
“It’s just that…You seemed…Very annoyed at it.”
“And what about it?”
“…You look very dumb when you’re like that, I just didn’t want to see it anymore.”
“Then why did you tell the ghosts that I-?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose-“
“Ace.”
“Because that way you’d depend on me for it, okay?! That’s it. You happy now?” He confessed, an irritating scowl appearing on his face, which didn’t match the reddish tone on his cheeks.
“That makes no sense-“
“Maybe it would if you weren’t so dense, idiot.”
“Sorry?”
“I can’t believe this, even Deuce noticed and you can’t even think about it.”
“About what?”
The first year sighed loudly, running his hands on his face to demonstrate his exasperation.
“About the fact that I like you! Great Seven, you’re really stupid.”
(Y/n) stood with a surprised expression, quickly thinking about Ace’s words, a sensation of heat reaching their cheeks as soon as they processed what he said, confusion still lingering. Silence settling for a few seconds, until the magicless student broke it with disconcert.
“…You really thought I’d noticed through olives?!”
“I thought you’d realise I’m very kind when I want to!”
“You insult me half of the time, how was even supposed to-!“
“Well then, will you go on a date with me or what?!”
“I will!”
“Fine, it was about time!”
They both stared at each other, still a bit startled from the sudden outburst. As their words settled in, embarrassment took over, both of them turning around to calm down.
“…You’re saying even Deuce knew?”
“I’ve been giving him the olives to him when you weren’t looking for the last week.”
“They really taste awful, don’t they?”
“Yeah I don’t wanna see one of them in a long time.”
“You did this to yourself.”
“I did it for you, idiot.”
“…You’re the idiot.”
“Whatever.”
⤿
⤿
⤿
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channiedotcom · 4 months ago
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late night gaming
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i.n x gn!reader – fluff ; gamer!jeongin ; college au 
word count – 1.1k
a/n – i’ve been hoping to write something like this ever since i found out that i.n plays overwatch… it’s one of my favorite games and i like to imagine how fun it would be to get to game with him (and the other members of skz of course) also lmk if y’all would be interested in a pt 2! 
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Late into the night, bluish-purple light seeps under the doorway of your bedroom. Every now and then, flashes of varying colors find their way into the mix. Your fingers move swiftly over your keyboard and mouse as your character turns in-game, taking shots at the enemy team. The payload is so close to creeping into the final point when–
Your character falls to the ground. You’ve been eliminated by fnncfx on Widowmaker. You hit your desk lightly with your fist, frustrated. “How did they even hit me? I swear I was behind that wall in time,” you mutter, watching the kill feed. You sigh and continue, exiting the spawn and getting back into the fight. Less than a minute later, it happens again. The same fnncfx gets a headshot, taking you out once more, just as quickly as you rejoined the battle.
The more it happens, the more frustrated you feel. Hoping to end the infuriating cycle, you switch to Sombra. If they’re going to keep targeting you, it’s only fair you do the same! You track down the Widowmaker and swiftly eliminate them. Within seconds, a message pops up in match chat:
fnncfx: counterswap? kinda weird
You roll your eyes and choose to ignore it. The game goes on for another minute or two, and you help your team by eliminating the Widowmaker at least twice more. As the timer runs out, your team finally completes the objective, and the word “Victory!” plasters itself across the screen. Before the game ends, you notice a small string of messages in the match chat:
fnncfx: ggs, except sombra fnncfx: i know ur mad i kept killing you lol
In a fit of frustration, you click on their profile and press the “add friend” button. You don’t really need to, but you want to talk to them and explain yourself. Almost as soon as you do, they add you back. You invite them to your group, eager to express your frustration. They accept and join in.
“You know I had to switch characters so you would stop eliminating me, right? You didn’t have to be such a jerk about it,” you huff, leaning towards your monitor.
There’s a pause. You stare at your screen, face illuminated by the glow. Why aren’t they responding yet? Did something go wrong?
“...Is this y/n?” he finally says, breaking the silence. As he speaks, your heart drops into your stomach. You recognize that voice instantly. It’s Jeongin– the cute guy from your math class. What is he doing playing this game? How did you end up in the same lobby? Your mind races. You’ve admired Jeongin from afar all semester- he’s the one you glance at in class, hoping he’ll notice you. And now here he is, in the same game, talking to you. Getting lost in your own thoughts, you almost forget to respond.
“I- uh- yes, hi! Oh my gosh, I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d run into you in this game! I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t come across as rude or- or anything…” You stumble over your words, your voice trailing off as you put your face in your hands. You feel like you’ve seriously messed up.
He laughs.
He laughs.
You look up, your face warm. Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but think about how absolutely cute that sounded.
“I didn’t know you played this game, that’s actually pretty cool,” he says, his voice reminding you of liquid gold. It sounds warm and soothing, just like how you remember hearing it in class. 
“Yeah, I’ve had it for a while. I don’t play much stuff like this, but I guess this game is just different.” You shrug, leaning back into your chair a little bit. Knowing he isn’t upset as of this moment brings you a bit more peace. 
“Would you maybe… want to play a few games as a duo?”
Your eyes light up. He actually wants to play with you? He wasn’t going to ditch you immediately? 
You don’t even wait a moment before giving him a confident “That would be amazing!”
The two of you play through a few matches and do rather well, especially since he’s quite good at the game. You both find yourselves having a great time, giggling at the characters who seem to have no idea what is going on. You work together to take down enemy team after enemy team, barely losing any games.
After some time, you can hear him let out a sharp sigh. “I hate to do this to you, especially because I’m enjoying this so much, but I think I have to get going. My roommate Felix says he needs me to run it back in some scrimmages; I forgot I told him yesterday that I’d help out with that. I hope that’s alright…” He goes quiet, clearly disappointed to have some prior commitment. 
You frown, but aren’t too surprised. Of course someone as talented as him would be on some sort of gaming team. “For sure, that’s okay! I still had a great time; I would love to do this again, if you’d be down for that.”
“Yeah, totally! Why don’t you write down my number, and I’ll text you when I have time to do this again.” 
You can feel your face turning red at the idea of getting his number. This is someone you’ve admired from afar all semester, and now he wants to talk to you more. You feel like you’re in the clouds right now, your head spinning. 
He tells you the digits of his phone number and you swiftly enter them into your phone, then send him a text so he knows yours as well. 
“Okay, well you have a goodnight, y/n! It was great talking to you.” You can hear him smiling on the other side of his screen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s blushing too. After he leaves the group, you log off out of the game and turn off your computer. You stand up from your chair and fall back onto your bed, wrapping yourself in the sheets. Giddy laughter escapes as you kick your feet in excitement. The thought that the most attractive boy in your class just gave you his number swirls in your mind, like a dream you never want to end. It still feels so surreal that he seems to at least tolerate- if not actually like- someone like you. As you hold your phone close to your chest, you slowly drift away into a deep sleep, dreaming of what could come of this newfound friendship, or maybe something more…
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somanyratsinthewalls · 7 months ago
Note
Omg congratulations on 700! 🎉 It is so so we’ll deserved. I must admit that I reread your work a lot because it is just so good and some of my favorites! 🥰
For the prompt, as always I am a SUCKER for the one bed trope, but I’d like to add another fun element so….
Blue + Lion + Hummingbird perhaps? 😈
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Okay this one was a request by many, including my cutie pal @thirstydiglett and @truebluesanji and HOT DOG is it a good one!
Just One Bottle (+18)
Pairing: Sanji x Strawhat Fem!Reader
Prompt: Only One Bed x Aphrodisiac
WC: 2000 lol
Warnings: Open for interpretation on how the pals ended up ingesting the aphrodisiac, forced closeness, unprotected sex, p in v sex, morning after pill discussion, drug use, creampie, Sanji being a gentleman!
— — 
You strolled the aisles of the bookstore as you waited for Sanji to finish up his snail call outside. You ran your fingers across the labels gently as you passed by each shelf. You glanced towards the shop windows and saw that Sanji was outside giving some choice words to whoever was on the end of his transponder snail. The sun was setting and you found yourself captivated by the way the low light reflected off his blonde hair. He looked handsome. 
But he wasn’t your type. He was always fawning over you, even more obnoxiously so than for Nami and Robin. You never gave him half a thought in terms of a choice as a romantic partner, he was just a crew mate that you cared for deeply… as a friend. You turned down another aisle of bookshelves as you could clearly tell that Sanji wasn’t finishing his conversation any time soon. 
You found yourself stopped at the romance section and pulled a bright purple tome off the shelf. “Part Time Human, Full Time Lover…” You read the title to yourself before flipping it open. You find yourself reading a rather graphic passage describing an intimate encounter between the human protagonist and her well-endowed centaur lover. “Goodness…” You whisper to yourself as you find yourself flipping the page in interest. 
“Y/n!” You snap the book closed instinctively as you hear your name called. Sanji was rounding the corner of the aisle and came up to you. 
“Sanji! Hi!” You hurriedly put the book back on the shelf. “Any news?” 
“Well, the sun is going down fast and the moss head idiot got his group lost so we have to stay on the island for the night. We’re all too far apart to get back to the Sunny. We can find an inn around here and get some rooms.” Sanji explains to you. 
“Fine, hopefully somewhere with a restaurant. I’m starving.” You smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a night off from cooking?” You raise an eyebrow at the tall blonde. 
“I guess. Don’t expect the same quality of food that you’d get back on the ship. Shall we?” Sanji remarks as he gestures to the door of the bookstore, letting you go first. 
— —
After wandering the small village for awhile, the two of you find a small inn that had a tavern on the first floor. You ducked in, trying not to draw attention seeing as the two of you were highly wanted pirates. 
Sanji strode confidently to the front desk. 
“We require two rooms for the night. Money is no issue.” Sanji stoically demands of the innkeeper. 
“Sir I’m sorry… but we only have one room left tonight… I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate…” The mousey old man behind the counter said as his voice trembled. 
“This kind of dump has no vacancy? You’re telling me that this hole in the wall has only one room available-“
“We’ll take it.” You pushed past Sanji’s shoulder and placed your stack of Beri on the counter. 
The innkeeper’s eyes danced from your smile to Sanji’s scowl. 
“We’ll take it.” Sanji echoed, lowering his voice. 
“E-e-excellent news! I will issue you your keys now. Would the couple like one set or two?” The old man sputters out. 
“Two.” “One.”
You say two and Sanji replies with one. He clears his throat. 
“Two, please sir.” Sanji changes his response. 
The old man issues you two sets of keys and hands you your change after you pay for the room. 
“Please, enjoy our restaurant. You may find that sharing a room is not uncommon among couples at this hotel.” The innkeeper mentions. 
You look up at Sanji. 
“I am kind of hungry, Sanji. Shall we?” You question. 
“Can’t go to bed with any empty stomach, can we?” Sanji shrugs. 
Sanji put his hand on the small of your back and led you in the direction of the small restaurant. 
“Two of you?” The stout hostess asked and you nodded. She led you and Sanji to a candlelit table in the back of the pub. Of course, Sanji pulled your chair out for you. Once seated across from one another, you picked up the drink menu. 
“The room was so cheap… should we get the champagne?” You smirk over the menu across the table at Sanji. 
“Nami would kill us… what’s the label?” Sanji gestures to grab the drink menu from you and you hand it to him. His brows furrow. “I actually haven’t heard of this brand before… but it’s expensive… must be from the South Blue…” Sanji quirks a curled eyebrow up at you. “Should we?”
The sides of your mouth curl up. 
“Yes.” 
Sanji breaks into a grin as the waitress arrived at your table. 
“Anything I can get you two tonight?” The cute redheaded waitress asked you both. 
“We’ll start with a bottle of the champagne.” Sanji says to the waitress. “And for food… anything your recommend for a night on the town?” He says with a smirk. 
“Oh, I think our chef can do something for you.” The waitress says with a smile. 
“Perfect.” Sanji says as he snaps his menu closed and hands it to the waitress. 
— — 
The two of you had finished your bottle of champagne and dinner and were waiting around for the waitress to bring you your bill. 
“No no, it really was lovely. I just have never had a champagne like this…” Sanji says as the two of you discuss dinner. 
“The oysters were a nice touch, I thought.” You remark. 
“Mr BlackLeg sir thank you…” The waitress interrupts as he places a large stack of Beri on the tray containing your bill. 
“That was a nice tip you left…” You say as Sanji ushers you softly out of your seat, covering your back with his suit jacket. “Far more than most would.” You didn’t feel drunk, but you felt some strange warmth growing in your lower half. It started building when you drank that damned champagne. 
“It’s nothing for someone who used to work in hospitality. Their service is worth far more than the champagne.” Sanji says as he guides you to the stairs, leading you up to your room on the third floor. 
You reach your room and Sanji fumbles with the keys before getting the lock open. The door opens to reveal a small room with a queen size bed and an ensuite bathroom. 
“I-I can sleep on the floor.” Sanji says immediately. You turned and saw that his cheeks were bright pink. Was it from the alcohol?
“It’s fine, we’re adults. Let’s just get to bed.” You respond and begin stripping off your pants. You then unstrap your bra and take it off through the front of your shirt. Sanji hesitates for a second before stripping down to just his boxers. 
“I’ll take this side.” You said awkwardly as you slide into the bed. 
“Right. Goodnight then.” Sanji shuts off the lights and hops into bed on the side opposite you. 
“Yep. Night.” You curl up into your side, so that you wouldn’t encroach on your crew mates sleeping space. 
All you can hear is labored breathing. 
Was it your own?
Was it Sanji’s?
Something was off. You couldn’t sleep. 
Why was your pulse thrumming in your privates? Why was there slick gushing out of your slit to soak your underwear? Nothing even remotely sexual has happened tonight and yet your levels of arousal were off the charts. You tossed and turned for several minutes trying to ignore it, having the ache between your legs only grow more intense. 
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
“Sanji?” You whisper out into the darkness. 
“Gods, Y/N, tell me you feel like I do right now.” Sanji responds in between pants. 
“What the fuck happened to us?” You breath out to the dark ceiling above you. 
“Something in that drink…” Sanji breathes out. “It fucking hurts…” 
You peer over to your left and see Sanji grabbing at his crotch beneath the sheets. 
“They drugged us.” You pant out, right hand delving into your panties and rubbing at your clit, trying to get some relief from the burn this mysterious wine was causing you. 
“I-I don’t know how to say this, mon cherie… But what if we… helped each other…" Sanji said as he saw you pleasuring yourself beneath the bed covers. 
“Right… it’s just helping a friend…” You say softly as you touch your sex further, reaching your left hand out under the sheets to wrap around Sanji’s erect penis. 
“YES- I mean, yes-“ Sanji jerks at your touch. “It’s just relieving each other…”
“Okay… fine…” You relent. 
Sanji jumps up and positions himself above you in a nanosecond. You take this time to push your panties down and your t-shirt over your head.
“Spread your legs for me, my love…” Sanji whispers as he hovers over you. “Show me what you need…” 
“Sanji please, I need you inside of me.” You pleaded as you brought your hand down to spread your pussy lips. “Sanji why does it hurt?! Please help me!” You bucked your hips in his direction. You were desperate. 
“I’m gonna fix it, okay? I’m gonna stop it from hurting. Do you want that, y/n?” Sanji asked. 
“Yes! Please help me!” You cried out again as you saw Sanji pull himself fully from his boxers. 
Sanji dances the head of his dick across you clit as you whimpered. 
“I’ve got you, mon amour…” Sanji assures you as he leans down and pushes his cock into your trembling hole. 
“OH-!” The moan is ripped from your lungs as you feel the throbbing head of Sanji’s member push past your g-spot to fill you completely. “Fucking finally-“ You groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the fullness you’ve been craving in your bones finally being fulfilled. 
“More, more, more….” You chant as Sanji bucks his hips into yours with a fervent pace. Whatever aphrodisiac was in that wine had fully engulfed your brain and all you wanted was a thick cock inside of you stretching you out. The only thing you could focus on was the wet glide of Sanji’s heavy dick in and out of your hole. “Please, more!” You cried. 
“My love, I’ll give you everything you want…” Sanji’s eagerness to please came through as he pushed your thighs up towards your chest, allowing him further access to your favorite spot. “Need you to cum on me… please..” He begged. 
“M-More.. want more..." You whimper out. 
Sanji takes one of his hands from the crook of your knee and places it around your neck gently. He leans in and places a tender kiss on your lips. He moves his other hand to the top of your sex. Sanji slips two fingers inside of you next to his own cock, assuring you're full to the brim and your favorite spot is being stroked with every thrust.
"San-ji! So- Fuckin- Full!" You cried out in the throws of pleasure, finally feeling exactly what you wanted.
“I can’t do this much longer, mon cherie, so wet and so tight…” Sanji groans into your lips as he ruts into you like an animal. “Need you to cum…” 
“I’m…cumming… fuck!” You scrunch your eyes shut and scratch at Sanji’s naked back. 
“So perfect….” Sanji whimpers into your sweaty neck as he shoots his load into you. You stroked his neck all the way down to the base of his spine. 
“Aaah- Fuck- Ah!” You hear the cook grunt into your flesh as he digs his hips into yours further. 
“A-are you cumming again?” You ask with a heavy sigh, coming down from your own orgasm. 
“Sh-shiiiit….” Sanji groans. Tears prick at your eyes as overstimulation sets in. “M-my love…” 
You feel Sanji’s hips drive further into yours, impossibly deep. He was emptying yet another massive load in you in less than a few minutes, it was spilling filthily out of your hole around his cock. Sanji collapsed almost immediately on top of you without pulling out. 
Sanji wrapped his arms around your torso and settled in.
“You know you’re going to have to ask Chopper about a ‘morning after’ situation, right?” You muse as you stroke Sanji’s lower back. 
“I think the embarrassment is worth it.” Sanji smirks as he nuzzles into your breast. 
You smile and pull your love-cook close to fall asleep.
— —
Hope you ALL enjoyed!
xx
Mo 
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monstersholygrail · 3 months ago
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hhands on learner hehe... i sure hope so ,,>_<,, but on that note, really quickly wanted to say happy birthday to ballet anon!!! i'm sorry your day didn't go well, i hope the rest of the year is kinder to you :(
with that being said... i hope it isn't pervy of me to think about dragon bf mating press. mmating press... heehehe... one of my favorite positions, but its sooooo underrated aaaaa >:T
'm a lil' curious tho... what're your favorite positions to write? :0
( 🍰 )
Saw this a little late, but this is so sweet!!! Love the intermingling emoji anon loveee
Anything to do with thinking of dragons in any sexual capacity is more than perfectly wonderful to me. You’re totally good, love. It is a very good position. I don’t think personally I could get my knees into that position. But that actually poses a very interesting thought.
Dragon bf and his big and towering frame hovering of you as he wildly fucks into you. The idea of making you feel just how big he is inside you making him nearly feral. So he pushes your knees up to your chest, relishing in the long moan that slips from your lips. When suddenly he starts to meet the resistance, your limbs not allowing for the satisfaction he needs. With his giant clawed hands he continues to push down on your legs, forcing you to feel the painful stretch of your legs mixed with the pleasurable stretch of his cock molding your pussy to his length and girth. And when you cum, milking his cock for all it’s worth, you don’t think you’ve ever cum harder before.
Pfff, hope you enjoyed that. That was inspired by the memory of my karate teachers pushing my knees down in the butterfly pose to make us more flexible lmao.
And thank you for asking!! I think my favorite positions to write are probably variations of doggy style and cowgirl. I tend to write them in my fics the most lol. But I’d like to add some variety to it just so my stuff doesn’t get repetitive. Maybe I’ll have to do some research. Oh woe is me 😏
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luvismenu · 21 days ago
Text
chap: 14 — push comes to shove pt.1 ✎ ,, index
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warnings: some violence (punching, slapping, etc.) like boyfriend mv vibes hehe
wc: 5.2k+
note: this chapter ended up being pretty long, so i decided to break it into two parts. i know i said i’d update sooner, and i’m really sorry for the delay,, i got sick (still not fully recovered, but i’m managing lol) anyway, have fun reading!! thanks for being patient with meee y’all are the best 🤍
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the music is loud, the kind that vibrates through your chest, and the room is dimly lit with hues of neon lights bouncing off the walls. yoongi’s place is packed, a mix of familiar faces and strangers, and the atmosphere is lively, buzzing with conversation and laughter.
you step inside, scanning the crowd. you opted for something simple tonight, a black dress that wasn’t too flashy but still hugged your figure just right. paired with a delicate silver necklace and minimal makeup, you looked effortlessly put together. it wasn’t meant to stand out, but there was an understated elegance to it, pretty in a way that didn’t try too hard.
you told yourself maybe it's a bad ideato come, but here you are, searching for a familiar face to make this feel less awkward.
you came here alone. because why wouldn’t you? it’s not like you have a long list of people to bring along. jason isn’t exactly your friend either, you’re starting to get tired of this whole “act” you’ve been putting on.
it feels childish now.
but was he making it any better?
you don't even wanna think about him right now.
you spot yoongi in the living room, a drink in his hand. he looks different tonight. no plain t-shirts or oversized hoodies. instead, he’s in a sleek jacket, skinny jeans and his hair neatly styled. it catches you off guard for a moment.
you weave through the crowd to get to him, and he greets you with a wide smile.
“you’re here!” he chimes, sounding genuinely pleased.
“hey, yoongi,” you say with a small smile.
“come on, let’s get you a drink,” he says, already turning towards the kitchen. you follow after him, trailing behind as he makes his way through the bustling party.
“oh, i don’t really wanna drink tonight,” you mumble hesitantly.
“don’t worry, we’ve got non alcoholic stuff too,” he says with a grin, glancing back at you before continuing towards the kitchen.
as soon as you step in, you see him.
jungkook.
he’s leaning against the counter, a drink in hand. his black shirt fits him perfectly, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos on his forearm. his hair is slightly messy, but it only adds to the way he looks tonight— so fucking good.
his eyes flick up, and they meet yours. for a second, the noise of the party seems to fade, leaving just the two of you locked in that brief moment.
he’s the first to look away. slowly, he raises his drink to his lips, taking a long sip as if he hasn’t noticed the way your gaze lingered.
you snap out of it, forcing yourself to turn towards yoongi.
“here you go!” yoongi’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn back to him. he’s holding out a glass, a playful smirk on his face.
“yoongi,” you whisper harshly, leaning closer so only he can hear, “you said he wouldn’t be here!”
“did i?” he says, like he's amused.
“yoongi,” you glare, your tone warning him, but he only shrugs, sipping his drink like he’s enjoying the chaos.
“i don’t recall saying that.” he raises an eyebrow like he's innocent.
“you totally did,” you mutter, crossing your arms.
he grins, leaning against the wall. “well, maybe i thought it’d be good for you two to talk. y’know, settle... whatever this is.”
“there’s nothing to settle,” you snap, though your eyes unconsciously dart towards jungkook. he’s laughing at something a guy next to him is saying.
that fucker. how is he so happy?
“really? because the way you’re looking at him says otherwise,” yoongi teases.
you glare at him, taking the drink from his hand. “you’re the worst.”
“thank you, i try,” he says, unfazed, before taking a sip of his own drink. “just... tthink about it, yeah? you’re not doing yourself any favors by avoiding him.”
“i’m not avoiding him,” you lie, sipping the non-alcoholic drink.
yoongi’s shrugs. “sure, whatever you say.”
you roll your eyes and move past him, heading towards the other side of the room. the last thing you want is to stand here while yoongi reads you like a book.
as you weave through the crowd again, you accidentally bump into someone.
“oh, sorry,” you mumble before looking up and it's—
“jason? w-what?” you stammer, caught off guard. of all the people, you didn’t expect to see him tonight.
“oh hey, ___!! my dearest!” he slurs, swaying slightly.
great. he’s drunk.
“what are you doing here?” you ask.
“i’m friends with yeri, and yeri is friends with jimin, and jimin is friends with yoongi, and sooo i am here!! what about you?” he asks, his words slightly jumbled.
“oh...” you hesitate, mostly because you don’t know any of the people he just mentioned. “that’s great, i’m friends with yoongi, so...” you trail off, forcing a polite smile.
jason makes an exaggerated "o" face, nodding as if everything suddenly clicks into place. “got it. makes total sense,” he says
before you can respond, he claps his hands. “i’ll be getting more drinks! you stay here!” he announces and stumbles off somewhere
you sigh, shaking your head slightly when a voice from behind startles you.
“who the fuck is that?” yoongi asks.
“just a classmate,” you reply, turning to him.
“you invited him?” he asks, clearly surprised.
“what? no! of course not,” you say quickly. “apparently, he knows one of your friends.”
yoongi hums in thought, glancing toward the kitchen where jason disappeared. after a pause, he looks back at you. “well, did you talk to him?”
“jason? yeah, i just did. you saw us—”
“not him, you idiot. jungkook,” yoongi interrupts, his tone matter-of-fact.
you freeze for a second, unsure how to answer.
yoongi waits for your response but you don't give him any. “are you planning on talking to him, or are you both just going to keep this cold war going?”
“it’s not a cold war,” you mutter defensively, taking a sip of your drink to avoid his gaze.
“could’ve fooled me,” yoongi quips, clearly unimpressed.
you frown, gripping your glass tighter. “i don’t want to, okay?”
yoongi’s expression shifts slightly, his frown mirroring yours. “why not?”
you glance over his shoulder, and your heart sinks. there she is again. the woman you've been seeing him with a lot these days. she’s making her way to jungkook, her giggles carrying over the noise of the party as she approaches him with the same bright smile that always makes your chest tighten.
“looks like he has company already,” you mutter, glaring at them both before looking back at yoongi. your irritation is written all over your face.
yoongi follows your gaze, glancing behind him to see what—or rather, who—you’re talking about. when he spots a woman leaning towards jungkook, laughing at something he’s said.
yoongi sighs.
“really?” he mutters, clearly fed up with whatever game the two of you are playing. before he can say more, jason reappears, interrupting the moment.
“i’m back!” jason declares, holding up two drinks triumphantly. he flashes you a bright smile, his enthusiasm nearly contagious.
you force a smile in return, trying to focus on him. jason leans closer, his voice raised to be heard over the noise. “so, what were we talking about?” he asks, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.
but it’s hard to pay attention. because you can feel jungkook’s eyes on you.
he notices everything. the way jason leans closer to you, the way his hand lingers on your arm, and the way you smile, even if it’s forced. his jaw tightens, and his grip on his glass stiffens.
he looks back at the woman in front of him, trying to focus on her words, but his attention keeps drifting to you. he hates how easily you’ve managed to get under his skin, and he hates even more how much it bothers him to see you with someone else.
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“what the fuck are you doing?” yoongi whisper yells as he steps up to jungkook, his tone sharp.
“what are you talking about?” jungkook asks, brows furrowing in confusion.
before yoongi can respond, mia, who’s been hovering nearby, chimes in, “is there a problem?” her tone is overly sweet, though there’s a hint of curiosity behind it.
“i need to talk to my friend here,” yoongi snaps, barely sparing her a glance. mia blinks, clearly taken aback, but eventually steps away with a soft, “okay...”
once she’s out of earshot, yoongi turns back to jungkook, his voice low but firm. “what are you doing, jungkook? you’re supposed to talk to her tonight. and who the hell is this? do you seriously think flirting with some new girl is going to make ___ talk to you?”
jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fingers curling around his glass. he takes a steadying breath before responding. “i don’t know why mia’s here! i didn’t invite her. i just saw her walk in, and now she’s sticking around. and i’m not flirting with her,” he grits out, his eyes darting to where you’re standing with jason.
his gaze darkens, his voice dropping further. “unlike ___, with that guy again. i don’t even know what she sees in him to keep inviting him everywhere.”
yoongi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she didn’t invite him, genius. from what i heard, he came with someone else. probably a mutual friend.”
jungkook pauses, caught off guard. “oh,” he mumbles, his frustration momentarily replaced with guilt.
yoongi shakes his head. “maybe stop jumping to conclusions and actually talk to her? before this gets even messier.”
jungkook exhales heavily, glancing at you one more time. “easier said than done,” he mutters.
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you're dancing with jason.
his hands rest a little too firmly on your waist, and your own are draped loosely on his shoulders. it feels close—too close—and awkwardly uncomfortable. but he had insisted, practically begged, that you dance instead of standing awkwardly against the wall.
the music shifts to something soft, slower, and less chaotic, and you’re both swaying, though your mind is elsewhere. you try not to think about how unsteady he feels, his movements jerky. he’s clearly had too much to drink, and you're silently praying he doesn’t throw up on you.
“this is turning me on, not gonna lie,” he slurs, giggling in a way that sends alarm bells ringing in your head.
you scrunch your nose in distaste, forcing a polite smile as he twirls you clumsily. during the spin, your eyes accidentally meet jungkook’s across the room. he’s leaning against the wall, his drink in hand, but his gaze is sharp, fiery. his jaw clenches as he watches you, and the way he's looking at you makes you falter for a moment.
you gulp, suddenly feeling like you’re crossing a line. maybe this was too much. maybe yoongi was right. you should talk to him, clear the air before things spiral further out of control.
but just as you decide to step back, ready to distance yourself from this unnecessary drama, you feel jason’s hands slide lower. far too low.
“what the fuck are you doing?” you snap, pushing him away immediately. he stumbles back, blinking at you with confusion.
“what?” he slurs again, smirking lazily. “i thought you wanted this. you want me, right?”
he moves forward, his hands hovering near your waist again, and you take another step back, your heart racing in frustration and unease.
“jason, you’re drunk. stop it,” you warn, your voice firm.
but before he can close the gap again, a blur of motion overtakes the scene. a strong arm swings forward, and suddenly, jason is stumbling backward, clutching his face in shock. the sound of the impact echoes through the room, drawing gasps from everyone nearby.
your eyes widen as you process what just happened.
jungkook is standing in front of you, breathing heavily, his fists clenched tightly.
“stay the fuck away from her,” he growls, his voice low and deep.
jason, still clutching his nose, straightens up, blood dripping slightly as he glares at jungkook. “what the fuck is your problem dude?” he yells, and without a second thought, he manages to stand up and lunge at jungkook.
and jungkook doesn’t hesitate. as jason lunges towards him, his fist connects with jason's jaw before he can even get close. the impact sends jason stumbling back again, crashing into a nearby table. glasses clink and drinks spill as the crowd gasps louder, and a few of them cheering for them to fight.
“jungkook, stop!” you shout, but he’s already advancing towards jason again.
thankfully, before he can land another punch, yoongi and two other guys rush towards him, grabbing jungkook’s arm. “enough, jungkook,” he says sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos.
the two guys follow close behind, quickly positioning themselves between the two men. the silver haired guy crouches by jason, helping him sit up, while the blonde hair guy places a firm hand on jungkook’s chest to hold him back.
“calm the fuck down,” the blonde guy says, his voice low but commanding. jungkook glares at him, his chest heaving, but he doesn’t make a move to push him away.
“this is not the place for this,” yoongi adds, his eyes darting between jungkook and jason. he exhales sharply, clearly frustrated. “jimin, get him out of here before he causes more trouble.”
“on it,” the silver haired guy; jimin mutters, helping jason to his feet. jason groans in protest, but jimin’s grip is firm. “let’s go, dude. you’ve had enough for tonight. taehyung help me,” jimin calls out to the blonde guy.
jason throws one last glare at jungkook before letting jimin and taehyung lead him away.
yoongi turns to you. “you,” he says, nodding towards jungkook, “take care of him. get him to calm down before he does something even dumber.”
you blink, stunned. “me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“yes, you,” yoongi says impatiently. “you’re the only one he’ll listen to right now.”
jungkook doesn’t argue, though his jaw tightens at yoongi’s words. you hesitate for a moment, but the tension in the room is palpable, and you know this isn’t the time to question anything.
“fine,” you say softly, stepping forward. “come on,”
jungkook glances at you, his gaze softening just a fraction as he lets out a shaky breath. without a word, he follows you out of the room, away from the crowd and the prying eyes.
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you’re in a bathroom with jungkook. the tension is thick, the air heavy with unspoken words. your eyes fall to his knuckles, noticing the faint smears of blood.
“sit,” you say firmly, crossing your arms.
“where?” he asks, his tone flat, though there’s a flicker of defiance in his gaze.
you sigh, pointing to the empty counter near the sink. “there.”
with a reluctant shrug, he pushes himself up, sitting on the counter as you grab a clean cloth and wet it with warm water.
“show me your hands,” you say, holding out your own.
he doesn’t move, just stares at you, his jaw clenched.
you frown. “don’t be a jerk now, jungkook. just let me see.”
he finally scoffs, his voice filled with bitterness. “oh, i’m the jerk? really?”
you pause, the cloth in your hand dripping slightly. “yes, you are. what else do you call a guy punching someone in the middle of a party?”
his gaze sharpens, frustration flickering across his face. “you’re really gonna act like you likef his hands all over you?”
his words hit you like a slap. “it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, your voice quieter now as you look away.
“yeah?” he counters, leaning forward slightly, his tone cutting. “because it was clear that you didn't like it. i mean, what are you doing? laughing with him, letting him get close... what the hell is that about?”
you glance back at him, meeting his piercing stare. “you don’t get to talk about letting people get close,” you shoot back.
his jaw tenses, and for a moment, it seems like he’s searching for the right words, but nothing comes. instead, he exhales sharply, leaning back slightly on the counter.
you take a shaky breath, “she was practically attached to your side the entire night. was that for my benefit? huh?”
he doesn’t answer immediately, his knuckles curling slightly. “this isn’t about mia,” he says lowly.
“and it’s not about jason,” you fire back.
you're right, it's about us, he wants to say, the words resting heavily on the tip of his tongue. but he doesn't.
the silence that follows is heavy, the only sound the faint dripping of water from the cloth. you take his hand gently, finally cleaning the blood from his knuckles, your movements softer now. your brows furrow when you don’t find any visible bruise or injury beneath it.
“there’s nothing here,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, as you examine his hand closely.
jungkook notices it too, tilting his head slightly to look at his own hand. “guess it wasn’t my blood,” he mutters.
you glance up at him, your lips pressing into a thin line. “you hit him hard, though,” you say quietly.
his eyes flick to yours, something unreadable passing through them.
“he fucking deserved it,”
silence, again.
“this isn’t getting us anywhere,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly.
he watches you, “then what do you want, ___? because i’m tired of this. of us pretending we’re fine when we’re clearly not.”
“you think you’re the only one who’s tired of this?” you snap, your brows furrowing as you glare at him.
jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening. “oh, so now you’re the victim?” he shoots back
“i’m not saying that!” you huff, crossing your arms. “but you act like you’re the only one affected. do you think this is easy for me?”
he scoffs too. “you don’t make it seem like it’s hard. you’ve been parading around with jason like nothing happened!”
“are you serious right now? what about you? you're with miss ‘missing in action’ every time i see you!” you counter, your voice rising slightly.
“that’s not the same, and you know it!” he snaps, leaning closer, his chest heaving.
“why? because you say so?” you fire back, refusing to back down.
“because i don’t want her! i—” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair, “fuck, you're so stubborn”
“and you’re fucking impossible!” you protest, your voice trembling with anger.
the air is thick and suffocating. his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, neither of you move, breathing hard from the argument.
then, suddenly, he leans forward, his hand gripping your jaw as his lips crash against yours. it’s not soft or gentle— it's messy and desperate and maybe a little... angry.
you hesitate for a second, your mind spinning, but then you give in, clutching at his shirt as you kiss him back just as angrily. his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you stand between his legs.
you pull back first, your chest heaving as you both stare at each other, wide eyed and breathless.
“what the fuck are we doing?” you whisper, your voice trembling.
“i don't know,” he mutters
before you can kiss him back again, the door swings open, and yoongi stands there, staring at you both. his eyes take in the scene; jungkook’s hands on your waist, the way you’re practically in each other’s faces.
you step back quickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. jungkook rubs a hand over his face, clearly annoyed.
“i am not letting you two fuck in my house,” yoongi says flatly
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “we weren’t doing anything.”
“yeah, nothing,” jungkook adds, stepping off the counter to stand beside you, though he avoids looking at yoongi.
“good,” yoongi replies, his tone sharp. “because that's not why i sent you here."
you frown, confused. “what?”
yoongi falters slightly, realizing how that sounded. “no, i mean—well—”
“so you both set this up?” you ask. your gaze shifts to jungkook, who shakes his head quickly.
“no, no, i—” he stammers.
“look,” yoongi cuts in, holding up his hands, “i lied about jungkook not coming, but i had nothing to do with the whole jason situation. that wasn’t me. but it's good that you're finally talking, right?”
you let out a frustrated sigh, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “unbelievable,” you mutter, brushing past yoongi to leave the bathroom.
“___, wait—” jungkook starts, but you’re already gone.
yoongi watches you storm off, then turns to jungkook with a pointed look. “well, that went great.”
“not helping,” jungkook mutters and runs after you.
as you walk briskly to the front door, your heels clicking against the floor, you hear jungkook calling your name. the sound of his footsteps grows louder as he catches up to you.
“___, stop, let’s talk. please.” his hand reaches out, grabbing your arm gently but firmly.
you shrug him off, letting out a bitter laugh. “now you want to talk? how convenient.”
“___, stop!” he says again, his tone sharper this time as he steps in front of you, forcing you to face him.
you gasp, startled by his sudden movement, your chest heaving with frustration. “don’t you dare raise your voice at me,” you snap, pointing a finger at him, your anger boiling over.
“oh, but it’s fine when you do?” he fires back, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. his words hit you, and for a brief moment, you falter, your breath catching in your throat.
“don’t you see how fucked up this is?” he continues, his voice low but intense. “we’re just acting like children, throwing tantrums instead of dealing with this like adults!”
your eyes narrow, your heart pounding in your chest. “and is it my fault that you started liking me when we both said this was supposed to be nothing?”
his jaw tightens, and he falls silent, your words sinking in as he stares at you, his expression unreadable.
“you like me,” he says, his voice steady, and your world comes to a halt.
“w-what?” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. you want to respond, but nothing coherent comes out.
before the silence can stretch further, a high pitched voice rings out.
“jungkook!”
you freeze, and there she is, the last person you want to see right now. mia. of all people, and of all times. her slightly unsteady steps and the way she slurs his name scream that she’s had more than a few drinks.
jungkook sighs as she stumbles toward him, and when she nearly trips, he instinctively catches her. “mia... not now,” he mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.
you fold your arms, your expression hardening. the irritation bubbling in your chest is hard to hide as you watch them
“what do you mean ‘not now’?” mia giggles, clinging onto him like he’s her lifeline. jungkook gently tries to push her off, keeping her at arm’s length.
then her attention shifts to you. “who’s this?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she wraps herself tighter around his arm, like she’s staking her claim.
oh, this bitch.
you plaster on the fakest smile you can muster, your eyes narrowing just slightly as you look at jungkook. “tell her jungkook. who am i?” you repeat, your tone cutting.
jungkook sighs. “this isn’t what it looks like—”
you let out a humorless scoff. “i’m ___. yoongi’s friend,” you say, each word laced with venom as you glance between the two of them.
mia’s face lights up in relief. “oh, thank god! for a second, i thought you were one of those obsessed girls trying to steal my jungkook,” she giggles, her words slurred.
both you and jungkook frown at her.
“mia, you’re drunk,” he says firmly, trying to steer her away, but she pouts, clinging tighter.
your hands ball into fists at your sides as you try to keep your temper in check.
calm down, ___, this isn’t worth it, you tell yourself, but it’s a losing battle.
“you know what?” you say sharply, spinning on your heels. “i’m leaving. have fun dealing with... whoever this is.” you wave a hand dismissively in their direction.
as you turn to leave, mia’s giggling voice stops you in your tracks. “whoever?? i’m gonna be his girlfriend soon,” she says, her tone smug and dripping with drunken confidence.
you pause, your body stiffening. slowly, you turn back around, and there she stands, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
fuck it.
without thinking, you stride back towards her, the forced calmness in your expression shattering. before she can react, your hand connects with her cheek in a sharp slap. the sound echoes, and she stumbles back in shock, her eyes wide.
“what the f—” mia begins, but you don’t let her finish.
you lunge at her, pushing her down to the floor as your hands grab for her hair. she screeches, her own hands flying up to pull at yours, and suddenly, the two of you are in an all out brawl on the floor, pulling hair and flailing.
and just like before—when jungkook had punched jason—the energy in the room shifts. people edge closer, forming a loose circle around you, their curious and excited murmurs filling the air. some look amused, others shocked, and a few are already pulling out their phones to record or take pictures.
“___!” jungkook’s panicked voice cuts through the chaos, his eyes wide with horror as he watches the scene unfold. he rushes forward, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you off her.
you struggle in his grip, your breaths coming in short, angry pants. “let me go!” you yell, trying to lunge at her again, but jungkook holds you firmly, his voice frantic.
“___, stop it! what the hell are you doing?”
mia scrambles to her feet, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and rage. “she’s crazy!” she shouts, pointing at you as she straightens her hair.
“mia, just leave,” jungkook snaps, “now.”
she stares at him for a moment, her mouth opening to argue, but the look in his eyes silences her. with a huff, she stumbles away, muttering and cursing under her breath as she disappears into the crowd.
you’re still fuming, your body tense as you stand in jungkook’s hold. slowly, he loosens his grip, his hands falling to his sides as he stares at you.
“what the fuck was that?” he asks, his voice quieter now but still firm.
“she fucking deserved it,” you snap, crossing your arms and looking away.
jungkook sighs, running a hand through his hair. “you can’t just do that, ___.”
“well, maybe if you’d handled her sooner, i wouldn’t have had to,” you bite back, glaring at him.
his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything, his gaze softening slightly as he watches you. for a moment, the two of you just stand there as you try to catch your breath.
“what the hell is wrong with you two?” yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension like a whip as he appears out of nowhere, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.
both you and jungkook turn towards him like kids caught sneaking out past curfew. jungkook sighs and runs a hand through his hair, while you fold your arms across your chest, refusing to meet yoongi’s glare.
“is talking that hard? seriously? this is the second fight you guys have caused tonight!” yoongi exclaims, his arms gesturing wildly as he steps closer.
“i didn’t start any—” you begin defensively, but yoongi’s sharp glare cuts you off mid sentence.
“oh, don’t even try that,” he snaps, pointing a finger at you. “you know what you both did,”
you do.
you falter, your mouth opening and closing as you try to think of something to say, but nothing comes out.
“and you,” yoongi turns to jungkook, his voice heavy with exasperation. “what is wrong with you? couldn’t you stop her? or at least not let this escalate? do you have any idea how ridiculous this looks?”
jungkook frowns, clearly not liking being scolded. “what was i supposed to do?”
“how about not letting her lunge at someone like a wild animal?” yoongi retorts, throwing his hands up in the air.
“i did stop her, didn't i?” jungkook protests.
you glare at jungkook. “don’t act like you’re so innocent. you’re the one who—”
“enough!” yoongi shouts, and both of you immediately shut up. “i don’t care who started what or why. this isn’t kindergarten. you’re both grown adults, so fucking act like it.”
you glance at jungkook, who looks equally chastised, and for a moment, you feel like two teenagers getting scolded by their dad.
yoongi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i don’t know why i bother with you two. you’re like oil and water- no, scratch that, you’re like fire and gasoline. one spark and boom! chaos.”
“yoongi, it’s not—”
“don’t,” he interrupts you, holding up a hand. “i don’t want to hear it. all i want is for the two of you to grow up, talk it out, and stop punching people. is that too much to ask?”
both of you mumble something that vaguely resembles an apology, but yoongi isn’t having it. “no, no. don’t give me that half assed apology. i want this fixed. now.”
“how are we supposed to—” jungkook starts, but yoongi cuts him off again.
“i don’t care how. just figure it out. but not here. go somewhere else and sort out whatever weird, unresolved… whatever this is between you two.”
he waves his hand between you and jungkook, then sighs deeply. “and for fuck's sake, don’t cause another scene, or so help me, i’ll lock both of you in a room until you figure it out.”
with that, he storms off, muttering under his breath about how he needs a drink and maybe some new friends.
you and jungkook stand there in silence for a moment, awkward and unsure of what to do.
“well,” jungkook finally says, his tone dry, “that was awesome, thanks, ___.”
you sigh, rubbing your temples. “shut the fuck up,”
he rolls his eyes.
“whatever, let’s go before yoongi actually locks us in a room.”
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📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @hoseokteardrop @myjungkookthighs
📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee
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gaybae1021 · 7 months ago
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Well since my bachelorette designs were received so well, I decided to complete the marriage set! Here’s my bachelors!
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Individual pics and thought processes under the cut:
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I’m drawing these from the perspective of how they’d look on day 1, but I’d definitely like to do a post-Joja higher heart design for Shane at some point. Overall for this one I just tried to make him look unkempt and dull, I desaturated his skin tone to make him look sickly and he’s the only one without eye shines, signifying how he’s lost the spark for life.
Also sorry about the socks and Birkenstocks.
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Decided to make Alex mixed, since there’s absolutely no diversity in the bachelors. Had a lot of fun translating his canon hairstyle into those short locs. Other than that the biggest change was turning his jacket into a proper varsity jacket. Short Alex gang unite!
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Okay sorry Haley, Elliot takes the win for the most changed design. Like it’s so obvious he’s meant to have a Victorian jacket and fancy trousers and all that, but after I drew him all tall and slender and I gave him little braids and beach waves he just started taking on a Boho vibe? When I drew the jacket it just looked tight and restrictive. So I decided to let the beach influence carry and we ended up with this fancy yet comfy loungewear with sandals. And I love him?
Also this was heavily inspired by ginjaninjaowo’s male espeon design
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Sebastian was honestly a pain, like I know his design plays off the emo teen archetype, but compared to the others npcs he’s actually got a lot of variety. Like he’s obviously got some emo influence, but there’s also some nerd thanks to his interest in coding and ttrpgs, and he’s also a bit of a tough guy with the bike and the smoking. So there were a lot of directions to lean. Still, his sprite is clearly going for a dark hoodie and dark jeans, so I didn’t think I could change it up without making it not feel like Sebby. Does he have a muscle tee underneath for working on the bike? I’ll never say.
Biggest change is probably the hair, just wanted something less stereotypical, and have some variety in bachelor hair length. Definitely leans into the biker side a bit lol. Otherwise I just tried add detail to his dark outfit and adorn it with his interests. So frog embroidery on his shoes, a patch on his jacket and some motor oil stains on his hoodie. Also as promised he and Maru have matching dimples.
Also happy pride month, enjoy trans Sebastian and also the head canon that he and Sam start dating provided the farmer doesn’t get there first lol.
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And with Sam the ASS trio is complete! Now with matching chokers because I said so.
Just like with Sebby I wasn’t sure which direction to go for Sam, whether to lean more into skater boy or rockstar. Ultimately he ended up more rockstar, though he’s still always roughed up from skating (probably because he refuses to take off the platform boots). He thinks the torn clothes make him look more legit though.
I had fun making his shape language compliment Sebby; he’s very top heavy from the giant hoodie so I made Sam bottom heavy with the baggy jeans and jacket. Also I had so many thoughts about him and Kent, given that Sam and Sebby are a thing and Sam isnt exactly gender conforming.
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And last but not least, Harvey. He’s sweet, he’s simple, all his heart events are charming. And yet he is always the last one I reach max hearts with because I can’t be bothered to go to the doctors office. Sorry bby, I hope I can make it up to you by designing you as an adorable cherub of a man.
I know I’m being super controversial, giving him a pushbroom mustache when the sprite is obviously a handlebar /s. But like, he’s such a square; it fits him so well. My little lawful good guy.
Ya know, I think I gave him a sweater so Elliot’s jacket would stand out, then proceeded to not give Elliot his jacket. Huh.
Anyway bonus of the boyfriends together to close us out, thanks for reading!
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ellecdc · 11 months ago
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hear me out - a remus fic but set in come back be here, like maybe a muggle and remus is instantly smitten but has no idea how to navigate but everyone is pushing for him to actually go for it and it’s just chaos but in the best way possible… regardless come back be here was AMAZING
CBBH Remus x muggle!barista gn!reader
(Pretend they have phones for this okay? Thank you lol)
CW: just fluff, swearing, self deprecation, making a fool of oneself - you know, the remus lupin special
Remus would describe himself as many things.
He was a wizard. He was a werewolf. He was a business owner. He was an uncle. He was a friend. He was a war hero.
He was also, apparently, a coward.
He knows this to be true because he’s sat in the same spot that he’s been haunting all week – a chair in the far back corner of the café – pretending to look over ledgers in his notebook while he actually watches you work.
It’s fucking pathetic, is what it was.
He watched as you smiled politely at every customer in line – even the ones who weren’t as polite to you as Remus thought they ought to be.
He felt silly, really, watching you like a creep. He shouldn’t be here to begin with. He had stumbled upon this café completely by accident two weeks ago whilst in the city to pick up more muggle literature to add to his bookstore on Diagon Alley.
It was here he saw you, as if you were a siren calling him to this sodding caffeinated inlet to damn him to hell.
What a willing victim he was. 
But he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t get caught up with you. It was unthinkable. Most witches and wizards would have a hard time coming to terms with someone like, well, someone like him. 
He was a burden. A risk.
It was selfish to think he could entertain the thought of you.
Suddenly, as if she’d known he was talking poorly of himself, his phone buzzed.
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Remus tried to steal himself as he took a deep breath. 
Right Lupin, you’ve done scarier things before. He thought to himself. You’ve run with wolves, you’ve gone undercover into enemy bases, you’ve deceived the dark lord right in front of his slimy fucking face, and you’ve even told Sirius once you thought his hair looked weird. By all means, you can talk to a barista.
Except...well...he really kind of couldn’t talk to a barista. He had made it all the way to the counter, even smiled politely at you as he stepped up to the cash register and...
And then words left him. Failed him. Completely abandoned him. He even thinks there may be a little stickie note in his brain that says ‘resignation effective immediately’ where words should be because he’s staring right at you with your gorgeous eyes and lovely hair and perfect features and for fuck sakes why isn’t he saying anything!?!?!
“Is there something I can get for you?” You asked so sweetly like this bloke wasn’t standing with his mouth agape at your cash register making a sure and utter fool of himself; like you had all the time in the world for the poor bastard.
“Uhm, uh...” He tried finally as if only now realizing he had functioning vocal chords. 
“Uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry uhm...”
You chuckled at him. Holy shit you chuckled at him. It was the most beautiful sound Remus thinks he may have ever heard. He hoped you’d do it again, though, at the rate he’s going it was really very likely. 
“I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. Uh,” He apologized awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. 
“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re lovely and would, uh, like to get to know you. You don’t have to say anything now!” He interrupted as you began to interject. “In fact, for my pride's sake, I’d prefer if you didn’t. But I’d like to leave my number here for you, in case you’d like to text me some time.” 
He offered you the kindest smile he could muster as you took the now crumpled and sort-of-damp-from-his-sweaty-palms note in your hand with a smile of your own.
Now, Remus wouldn’t say he ran out of the café, per se. He would describe it as more of a jaunt, or perhaps a brisk walk. But he did nearly take out a woman with a pram as he all but flung the door open in his haste to get away. 
You stupid ridiculous bastard. He scolded himself as he made his way to the closest apparition point. If Sirius could see you know, you’d never hear the end of it.
His phone buzzed and Remus nearly dropped it in his haste thinking it might be Sirius having somehow actually seen what just took place.
Then he nearly dropped it again as he saw a new text from an unknown number.
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Perhaps Remus wasn’t such a coward after all.
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