Tumgik
#i wanted something playful for them i hope it comes across
leclerc-hs · 21 hours
Text
tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
Tumblr media
pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
250 notes · View notes
burquillos · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Do you think about Zoro-Luffy matching rings Oda drew for the 1pc Gucci Collab or are you Normal??
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 8 months
Note
Hello I have a desperate need to drop this somewhere after doing the second Fontaine quest, so I really hope it's okay that I do, but like; Virgin nuevillette. Finally having someone to be spicy with and he's just a mess and so damn cute because he wants soooo badly but he doesn't know what exactly. Something about having to guide such a big guy because he's too whiny and excited to focus right just makes me giggle
This makes so much sense my fingers just flew across the keyboard.
Pairing: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, being flustered, double cock, loss of virginity, coming quickly, blowjob, eagerness, clit stimulation, blushing, kissing, creampie, biting, mating press, size kink
A/N: The double cock action seems like a neat idea, I hope the fandom accepts it as truth. It's my contribution.
Tumblr media
Virgin!Neuvillette is simultaneously eager to please you and very flustered at the same time. For starters you're a human, he could hurt you if he gets carried away. It hasn't happened in your make out sessions but this time it won't just be that, he'll be inside of you, one with you. Whatever he can do to make this good for you he promises that he will.
Virgin!Neuvillette has two cocks, more for you to please that way but the second one only appears when he's really horny. Getting a blowjob from you will do it. He is in awe at how you're handling him, never leaving either cock alone, hand moving up and down one of them while you suck and kiss the other at the tip. Because he is getting stimulated even when you go still when you bend down to take his cock in your mouth his other cock shoots cum all over your face. He goes only a little bit soft but there's still the other hard cock in your mouth for you to play with until the other gets hard again.
Virgin!Neuvillette gets a little embarrassed that he couldn't last long with you. He heard that this can happen but he really thought he would do better. Then again he was never one to masturbate much so it's not that surprising. But still, one of his cocks is always hard, he's got the stamina now he only needs to work on his endurance. And you will gladly assist him. He doesn't care if your face is covered in his cum, he still kisses you, commenting on the interesting salty taste of himself. Do you like it? His taste that is. You do, so much that you lick the cum off your lips and his.
Virgin!Neuvillette lets his playful side out when you pull him on top of you. He starts biting and kissing your neck, a deep and primal need to mark you boiling to the surface. Not yet, but if your relationship lasts he wants to give you a real mating mark. For now he will be happy with seeing these temporary ones all over your body.
Virgin!Neuvillette has a hidden size kink. His cocks are pretty girthy and long so he asks you which size is better at first. It doesn't matter to you because you'll have both inside of you at some point, maybe even both at once. The zips leak with cum at the idea but he decides to put the larger one in first, moaning and whimpering loudly as you take him inside of your pussy walls. That way his other cock can slide over your clit giving you double stimulation as he moves. His thrusts are sloppy, unsure, but each one is deep, it's like he can't... he doesn't want his cock to be out in the open, it has to be inside you. Is this what they call being pussydrunk?
Virgin!Neuvillette loses himself in the feeling of you coming undone under him. It's not enough, he needs more, he wants to go in deeper, deeper until his cock is kissing the entrance to your womb. He needs to feel it, now. Lucky for him, you're so easy to move around, easy for him to push your legs up on his shoulders, to your chest and kiss you while he gets what he wants, his pulsing, hot cock with nowhere to else to go.
Virgin!Neuvillette can't stop his pleasurable cries as he fills you up with warm seed. His other cock jumps, twitches against your clit, shooting thick, white ropes all over your body. Outside, inside, you're now marked as his with his cum. He never knew one could feel such pleasure but now that he's experienced it he doesn't want to go a single day without it.
3K notes · View notes
teeskz · 8 months
Text
Deja Vu: “I want you so bad.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
» pairing: asshole! wooyoung x fem! reader
» summary: Getting paired with Wooyoung, notorious half-asser and asshole, on your midterm assignment must’ve been karma for something you’ve done in the past, cause god did you luck out bad. He’s constantly late to your meetings, hardly does any work, and on top of that, he teases you like no other. You can’t stand him. Until one day, a storm comes, brewing unfamiliar feelings amongst you two, and what you thought you knew had honestly just turned out to be deja vu.
» word count: ~ 9k (i actually have no idea, i just know it’s long)
» genre & warnings: non-idol au, asshole (most of the time) wooyoung, sub (sometimes) reader, dry humping, grinding, praises, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), rough sex, cream pie, ass & tit slapping, major teasing (both sexually and socially), orgasm denial x3, edging, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, reader has a younger face but is of age, mentions of bff!seonghwa, reader is unintentionally cute, minor peer pressure (helps reader get out of her shell/pushy roommate), heavy make out session, whiny wooyoung, sensitive reader
» a/n: when i tell you i am in love with this kind of wooyoung
─ ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── ・。゚☆: *.☽ .*.・。゚
Everyone warned you about him.
He’s a handful for sure.
You got him as your partner? Good fucking luck with that.
Be ready to do your half of the load, plus his.
You knew this would happen.
So how come you’re still surprised when at 6:45, Wooyoung strolls into the library, a drink in one hand and his laptop in the other, looking as if he’s ready to work. He should’ve been here 45 minutes ago.
You peer up from your own screen and can’t help but scowl at the boy. Wooyoung also notices you, and instead of feigning remorse a cheesy grin spreads across.
“Look at you being all studious.” He reaches the table you occupied and plops down next to you, parts of his drink splashing onto your bare arm, “How much have you gotten done?”
Adjusting your laptop screen, you hardly spare him a glance as you go back to typing, “Honestly, not that much. It’s hard coming up with research on my own.”
You hope the bitterness came through in your tone and judging by the way Wooyoung guffaws, you could tell it did. He just didn’t care.
“Y/N-ah, why’re you being so cold to me?” His voice is playful, lighthearted even, speaking as if the two of you were friends. Which you’re most certainly not.
Instead of replying, you let your fingers do the talking as they slap the keyboard with clicks, a reminder that you guys need to work and not converse. Does he think you actually want to spend your Friday working on some stupid project? One that’s worth a large chunk of your grade at that.
“I brought you something to drink.” He shoves the cup in your face and you can see the liquid start to turn more opaque as the ice melts. It’s also like 70% gone. Having enough, you harshly face him, the sudden movement causing him to buck backwards.
“Wooyoung, you need to get to work and stop playing around. We don’t have time for this, especially when you decided to show up almost an hour late.” You try to sound authoritative, but that in itself is a bit of a problem for you. Your voice has always been softer than most, so when you do try to take charge, you often get ‘awwws’ of how cute you sound. And you hated that.
It also doesn’t help that you have a rounder and softer looking face for someone your age. If you could count on your fingers the amount of times someone’s asked if you’re touring your college instead of attending it - with them thinking you’re a high schooler, well, you’d probably put around 3 fingers down. But the analogy still stands.
Wooyoung’s no different, him holding back a smile from the way your eyebrows would furrow and how your nose would scrunch whenever you exhibit anger. He found it endearing, actually.
“Okay...you’re clearly mad at me-”
“How can I not be?” You exclaim, “It’s been a week of us working on this project together, and somehow you manage to show up late every time, but it’s never been past 30 minutes. You’re even the one who told me to be here at 6!”
“I have a good reason for being late though.”
With that, you push your computer forwards and lean back in your chair arms crossed, entertaining whatever nonsense was about to spew out of his mouth, “Oh please, I’d love to hear this.”
He mocks your stance, “I was getting chased by a girl.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. You give him a deadpanned expression which causes him to whine.
“No seriously! I was.” In a flash, he pulls out his phone and puts it out for you to see a string of messages.
5:48 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- HYUNG!!!
- i need your help asap
5:49 PM
SEONGHWA:
- huh?
- what’d you do?
5:51 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- the girl from last weekend’s pissed at me and is looking for me all over campus
- can i pls hide in your dorm?
5:51 PM:
SEONGHWA:
- tf did you do to piss her off?
5:52 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- i’ll explain later just please let me hideout at your place
- i heard she has a knife
5:52 PM:
SEONGHWA:
- okay fine
5:53 PM:
WOOYOUNG:
- thank you!!
- i’m already outside your door
Admittedly, you were left dumbfounded. So maybe he did have a reason today, but that doesn’t excuse all of the other times. Wooyoung slips his phone back into his hoodie pocket while you go to ask the obvious question.
“What did you do to make this girl mad?”
He blows out a hard breath, as if even thinking about her is such a hassle, “We hooked up last week and I told her I didn’t wanna see her again. So, this is how she reacted.”
You purse your lips out, “Well, maybe she was hoping to gain something out of it. You know, there are nicer ways to phrase ‘I’m not ready for a relationship’ that don’t involve the girl getting hurt.”
“Why should I care about her feelings?” His words are icy, though it seems to be directed towards you, “I told her upfront I didn’t want anything more, it was only supposed to be sex. I asked her if she could handle that and she said yes. If she went ahead and caught something for me, that’s not my fucking problem.”
Once he was done, Wooyoung reels himself in. The realization that you weren’t, in fact, the psycho chick that had been chasing after him earlier dawns on him as you silently nod in agreement. If he had been clear on his intentions since the start, then there wasn’t really much you could say against him.
“I didn’t know that, sorry for jumping to conclusions.” You sound more sad then you meant to and reach out for your computer.
After a beat his sour look turns sweet again, another playful smile returning, “Oh Y/N-ah, don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry for getting worked up.”
“Your frustrations understandable, especially if you’d been real with her from the beginning. Frankly, she should’ve expected that.” Shrugging your shoulders, you go to work again, now noticing the time hit 7:18 PM. You had about 12 minutes to get Wooyoung to do something, but that probably won’t happen.
He cheers your name loudly, happy that you and him agree on a topic for once and the librarian on standby hisses at him to quiet down while throwing a nasty glare.
The two of you exchange glances before both quietly laughing, you going back to finishing one of your paragraphs for your thesis while he simply sat and watched.
«—————————»
The next time you were supposed to meet with Wooyoung, you receive a text from him hours before your designated time.
12:07 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- pls no library today
12:09 PM
YOU:
- what was wrong with it last time?
12:10 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- the old hag yelled at me
- i’m not dealing with that again
12:11 PM
YOU:
- well tbh you aren’t the quietest person to have around
12:11 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- sorry we all cant be mouses like you
12:13 PM
YOU:
- ignoring that
- how about the cafe nearby?
12:14 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- ugh the coffees gross
- and psycho chick works there
- hell. no.
12:15 PM
YOU:
- oh then def not there, where do you wanna meet then?
12:17 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- just come over to my apartment
- i would suggest your place but i don’t feel like going out
12:18 PM
YOU:
- what if i don’t feel like going out
12:18 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- who wears the pants in this friendship?
12:20 PM
YOU:
- there is no friendship
12:21 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- still don’t wanna admit we’re friends…..
- it’s bad enough you pretend to not know who i am around others
- makes me sad
12:24 PM
YOU:
- does it actually?
12:26 PM
WOOYOUNG:
- no 😛
- come over at 7
12:27 PM
YOU:
- alright fine
Even though you agreed to 7, you actually intended on getting there around 7:10. Hopefully the taste of his own karma would help him learn to respect others times and not waste a second of it.
Throughout the day, while doing your mundane tasks, the text messages between you and Wooyoung keep circling your thoughts. Mainly towards the end.
You and him haven’t established a clear relationship, so that’s why you denied his friendship claim. In all honesty, he just didn’t seem like one to you. But after what happened at the library, a part of you can possibly start to think differently.
Yet your mind races at the possibility you had actually hurt his feelings. It’s not a secret that you two are partners, so whenever you do deny his existence, many people laugh off your comment as a joke. Which for the most part it is. Had you been going too far with that?
Then again, this is Wooyoung you’re talking about. He hardly takes anything serious. Not even a project that’s worth more than half of his final grade. You’re probably just overthinking it, no need to stress out over this.
Telling yourself that, you continue to busy yourself with random tasks till around 6:30, which also happens to be the time your roommate arrives back from wherever she had left early this morning.
“Hey, where are you about to go?”
She asks as she notices you picking out a sweatshirt to wear, already having on light flared jeans. She comes up behind you and lands a loud smack on your ass and you fake cry. This is not a first time offense.
“Wooyoung wants to meet at his place for our project.” You look between two sweatshirts in your hands, a light grey and black.
Your roommate throws herself onto your bed since hers is barely visible due to the abundance of clothes occupying it. But then she pauses for a moment, rethinking over what you just said, “Wait, you’re going to his apartment?”
You nod absentmindedly, still deciding on which clothing option to wear.
“Is he trying to fuck you?”
Now that snaps you out and you dart your eyes to her, “What?! Absolutely not.”
She sits up now, legs crisscrossed as she becomes engross in the conversation, “Y/N, he 100% is! You’ve guys been studying at the same two places for the past week, now suddenly he wants to change locations? To a more secluded place? Sounds sketchy as hell.”
You’re quick to discard that, “It’s because he doesn’t wanna go out today. Plus, Wooyoung has his reasonings for not liking our usual spots.”
Her eyes do a dramatic roll, “Right, just as I’m sure he had his reasonings for being an hour late last Friday.”
You had been texting your roommate up until Wooyoung’s arrival, frustration running into the ground. But you also told her he had a legit excuse later on. So, she’s clearly not the biggest fan of him.
“Don’t say such things. And besides the seclusion will probably help us work better.” You finally choose to go with the black sweatshirt and put back the grey.
“Or it’ll help when your screaming his name and no one will be around to hear it.”
“Hey!”
She throws her hands up innocently, though nothing’s innocent about what’s coming out of her mouth, “I’m just saying! The possibility isn’t a no.”
“To me it is! Plus, he doesn’t even see me like that. Just as a friend…..sorta. Well, that’s not really the case for me. But it’s- you know what, never mind.” You finish putting on the sweatshirt and do your go-to style for your hair, something quick.
“Okay, well can you at least prepare better just in case you guys are gonna bone?”
You just shake your head in disbelief that this conversation is even happening, while she gets up and begins rummaging through the pile on her bed. When her hands come out again, they’re gripping a lacy tank top and matching underwear.
If you thought this couldn’t get any worse, it just has significantly.
“You’re not serious….” You shake your head once more, disbelief clouding your mind again.
“Y/N go put this on right now!” Before you had a chance to protest, she’s pushing you into your closet, throwing the clothes at you before locking the door and turning the lights on from outside.
“You’re crazy! I thought you don’t even like Wooyoung, why’re you so on board with this non-existent idea?!” You yell.
“Cause, even if he is an asshole, he’s still hot! And the perfect gateway into the hookup culture you’ve always wanted to be apart of since freshman year!”
You mentally curse yourself for wanting to have a ‘hoe phase’ and for sharing that with your roommate. That was forever ago anyways, surely she would’ve realized you grew up since then. Once you realize your roommate is dead set on not letting you out, you sigh annoyingly. She is insane.
But as you begin to caress the fabric, your mind begins to race. You had absolutely no intention of getting with Wooyoung, not now or ever. You don’t even consider him a friend! Yeah, he’s extremely attractive, and maybe even your type.
However, that doesn’t make up for how much he irks your soul, and you could swear up and down that you dislike him.
Maybe that’s why it would be perfect, the voice inside of you starts, no extra feelings attached, and no one has to get hurt like psycho crazy girl.
You bit your lip at the thought. Would he even hook up with someone like you? You don’t think you’re exactly his type.
………oh who’re you kidding, he’d probably mess with anything that has a hole.
“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it. If not, then let it ago.” Your roommate adds more encouragement.
Suddenly switching your brain off, you strip off you clothes, removing the current underwear for the newer kind. You toss back on your other clothes before begging your roommate to let you out.
She opens the door but stops you in your tracks, “Now hold on, before you go let me see that you have it-”
You lift up your shift to reveal the tight material straining against your skin. You felt your breasts were gonna pop out at any second.
Your roommate gapes at you then goes to quickly put your shirt down, “Oh wow, I almost just said something I might’ve…...anyways you look fucking amazing.”
“Aww, thank you.” A tiny smile spreads across your face and your roommate resists the urge to pinch your cheeks.
“Okay, what time are you’re suppose to meet him?”
You glance over at your clock which reads 7:01 PM, “Hmmm, about right now.”
She tells you to hurry out of here but before you get the chance to, she walks over to the window and takes a peak, “Hey, have you checked the weather?”
“No, why?” It had been sunny all today there was really no point.
Your roommate holds back saying something, her gaze going over to your closet, “I think you should wear the grey sweatshirt.”
«———————————»
You were going to kill you roommate. The funeral’s been planned out, you already knew the casket color - burnt siena - and all you needed was the body. She is so dead.
You knock ferociously at Wooyoung’s door, at such a rate that someone could mistake you for one of his many, many girls. The door swings open, a freshly showered Wooyoung standing on the other side.
“Y/N-ah, why’re you so angry all the ti-” His eyes go wide at the sight of you. Your once neat hair all messy and soaked from the rain. The sweatshirt your roommate suggested had turned a much darker grey while your light pants were splattered in raindrops.
The worst part about it all, the rain started just as you were approaching his street, and it came down in waterfalls. You were already too far to turn around and grab an umbrella.
“I don’t. Wanna. Talk about it.” You roughly push past him and into his apartment, which you would normally stop to admire the niceness of it if you weren’t so upset. His living room and kitchen’s clean and modern, a TV playing some movie in the background.
“I feel like I could make a joke, but this is just too easy,” You toss a harsh glare over your shoulder at him as he closes and bolts his door, him shuddering at your expression, “Is this why you were late? I was counting every second.”
You highly doubt that’s true, “No, my roommate and I got to talking about…something.”
He tsks, running the white towel over his damp hair, “You know for every minute you were late, I say you deserve a spanking.”
If not for you roommate, that statement wouldn’t have illicit more than a scowl from you, maybe even an eye roll. But your mind trails off to you bent over his lap while he counts the number of times his palm hits your flesh.
And you feel your face immediately burn so you turn away, “If that’s the case, you’d probably wouldn’t be able to walk for like a week.”
With your back facing him, Wooyoung’s eyes linger down to your ass, and how full it looks in those pants. Dammit, he told himself he wouldn’t think of you in that way. And that spanking comment completely slipped out, but now he’s wishing he hadn’t said anything. His thoughts are truly something else.
“Where should we work?” You ask, desperately needing a change in subject.
He seems to be cleared from his own thoughts and he leads you to his living room where his laptop’s already set up with your guys’s work document. Hey, talk about efficient.
Wooyoung drops to the couch and you sling off your backpack, going to follow his lead when a foot comes in contact with your ass.
“Sorry, but I can’t have you sitting on the couch.” He slowly lowers his leg and you scoff lightly, your face doing the thing it does when you get angry. It kills him inside each time.
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a spare change of clothes.”
Just as quickly as he sat down, Wooyoung’s back up again and tells you to follow him to his bedroom. Outside, you can hear the wind start to pick up, mixing with the treacherous rain.
“You can borrow a shirt from me, but I’m kinda low on bottoms.” He says as he yanks open a clearly broken drawer and begins looking for a suitable replacement.
He pulls out a ratty, white tee and tosses it on your face, you hearing him laugh at you as he makes his way out the door. You rip the shirt off with a huff, “Thank you for this.”
His eyes do a quick motion back to you before smiling his usual, playful grin, “That’s what friends are for.”
And he goes to exit again, leaving you alone to change. Trying your best to ignore the way your stomach buzzes at the remembrance of his smile, you pull off you own wet shirt and replace Wooyoung’s dry one, his scent engulfing you the minute it’s on you. You thought you could get drunk of this.
And as for pants, well, your jeans didn’t get as much damage as your top, so it should be fine. You work your way back to the living room, Wooyoung actually working diligently for the first time in ages.
“Whatcha doing?” You take the only open seat next to him on the cushion, but whatever change of heart you had towards him dissipates in a matter of seconds as he flips his screen to show you some clothing store he’d been browsing.
“Do you think this would look nice on me?”
You stare at him blankly before giving him a half-hearted answer. That seems to do the trick as he twists his computer and goes back to typing, most likely still not working. You open your own laptop and begin immediate research, the sounds of clicks filling the air as if you’re both competing for which one is the most significant.
An hour goes by, then two, then three, till next thing you know it’s 11 o’clock at night and the only thing left of your paper is the conclusion, which you tasked Wooyoung with since no one knows all that he’s really done.
“Holy shit! I can’t believe we’re almost finish with this.” He sighs happily into the couch while you shoot him a face. He instantly backtracks and rephrases his sentence into something more accurate, where he’d actually given you more credit.
“This feels like the longest paper I’ve ever written,” You huff as you layback alongside Wooyoung.
“Yeah, well,” He regards you and you meet his gaze, a tiny smile breaking out, “I know you did a great job. You’re an awesome researcher.”
The words could make you melt on sight, “Wooyoung, you’re too sweet.”
At the sight of your genuine smile, he felt as if his heart was going to leap out his chest. Damn you and you’re cuteness.
“Here I thought you couldn’t wait to rid me of your time.” You say as you snicker at your own joke. Definitely was the other way around.
“Well, don’t count on that. Trust me when I say, you’ll never get rid of me.” A devilish grin overtakes him and you roll your eyes, playfully this time. Maybe there is a part of you that’s starting to warm up to him.
“It’s probably time for me to go, it’s past 11.” When you go to stand, you hear Wooyoung whine behind you, begging you to stay longer. It’s just him being bored, don’t overthink it.
Right as you go to pick up your bag, a flash of lightning followed by loud thunder stop you in your step. With the time you spent with Wooyoung, you’d completely forgotten that a literal thunderstorm had been conjuring outside.
“Where’d you park?” He asks as he goes to stand next to you, trying to see out of the window of the blinds but even that had been barricaded by water.
“Oh, uhh, I actually didn’t drive. I walked here from my dorm.” You begin to think about how you’d get home. The bus normally comes around 12, so you could just wait under the bus stop to get out of his hair-
“You better not be considering leaving,” He chastises and when you make a guilty face he’s shocked, “Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you go out there.”
“I don’t wanna be in your way anymore, I’m sure you’re tired of me enough.” You rebut with wide eyes that make it hard for him to look away.
“Don’t make up lies, Y/N-ah, that’s what bad people do.”
Why does he do this to you? Treat you like you don’t know that there’s wrong in the world, like your sheltered. You stick your hip out and cross your arms, “Who’s to say I’m not bad.”
That sentence alone was enough to get him to laugh as if he’d been holding one in for a while, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go get my room ready for you.”
You trail him like a puppy as he goes down the hall and into his bedroom, “Hey, I didn’t agree.”
“And I don’t remember caring if you did.” He picks up the little trinkets off the floor before switching his pillows out with new ones.
You trot behind him, “Then if that’s the case, you take your bed. I can’t kick you of here.”
“You’re not kicking me out, I already gave the room to you.” He moves onto collecting a blanket from his closet then proceeds out into the living room again with, surprise surprise, you close by.
“Wooyoung this isn’t fair, I feel bad.”
He drops the cover then whips around to face you, his eyes burning deep into yours, “Where do you want me to sleep if you’re taking the bed then, huh?”
“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it.”
Your roommate said this to you and boy if this doesn’t feel like a moment. Your eyes drop down slightly, then off to the side before landing back on Wooyoung, “You could….oh I don’t know, just stay in the room with me.”
He halts in place, trying to register if he just heard you correctly, “Stay with you……?”
You rapidly shake your head yes because you aren’t too confident your mouth could say much more. He pushes his tongue against his mouth, obviously lost in thought, and you briefly look at the movement. You must’ve turned into a huge pervert in the span of 4 hours because just the sight of that is enough to make your heart race.
“I normally don’t sleep with classmates, but I think I can make an acceptation for you.”
You flick him in the chest at his comment, him immediately laughing. And while part of you felt that was the proper response on your behalf, another hated how you knew he was joking. Like he could never even imagine you in that kind of way.
“Alright, let’s go back to the room then.”
This time you lead the way, with Wooyoung immediately stripping once he steps foot into the room. At the removal of his shirt, you spot a gold chain dangling from his neck, which you felt was a good fit for him. He goes all the way down to his boxers, a classic plaid mix with colors, and your eyes widen at how casual he’d just done it. Though, you don’t completely mind.
“Oh yeah, I get hot easily so sometimes I like to prepare. .” Without another second to waste, he hops into his side of the bed, “Don’t let me stop you though, okay Y/N-ah?”
You don’t even respond as hastily you turn around and fiddle with the button of your jeans. It’s now or never. You pull your pants down, around your ass and past your thighs till they pool around your ankle. You step out of them then bend down to retrieve, folding and placing them on a nearby chair.
“Did you wear that underwear just for me?” He’s teasing you, just like always, though this time you don’t have a comeback. You really had worn these just for him.
He picks up on your no-reply and could tell there’s a sense of something in the air that wasn’t there before.
When you turn back around, Wooyoung’s eyes are glued to you, more specifically towards your legs. You don’t get into bed immediately, instead watching him to see his reaction. Is this where everything goes downhill?
He rakes his eyes upwards till they land on your gaze and it appears he’s confirmed something in them, not playing around or joking. That you’re dead serious. Your heart rate accelerates and his lingering stare is starting to make you curdle.
After a beat his body weakens, “Come here.” His finally says. His voice is strained quietly, speaking as if you’d break if he were any louder. And so you do, leisurely, stalling.
You reach the side of the bed and he motions you to continue. You dip a knee into the mattress before placing your other, then again slowly make your way over to him.
Stopping right in front of his face, his arms reactively go up to grab at you but he stops himself midway. You can tell he’s asking for full permission, and attempting to calm your breathing you give a nod of approval.
His hands grip the back of your thigh, sinking into the skin, before making you straddle him. You sit perched up and toying with your fingers, then decidedly to rest them across his bare shoulders.
“You know I was just messing with you?” He starts, forcing you to give him your attention.
“You always do.” You’re tone sounds neutral thank goodness, but your goddamn pouty lips make you look like your frowning. Or to Wooyoung, kissable as fuck.
Chuckling gently, he bites his lip to stop him from smiling too much, “Yeah, that’s true. But this time it didn’t seem like just teasing to you.”
You feel his hands rub against your thighs, not working their way up, just caressing them while he keeps his eyes locked on you.
“I….” You already knew saying it aloud would sound weird, “I wasn’t sure where tonight was gonna take us.”
He continues to knead into your skin while you go to play with his chain, awaiting his response. You never would’ve imagined this is how the two of you would end up, but damnit if there’s not a part that just excites you a little about it all.
“Did you think we were….” He allows the words to hang in the air but you knew too well what he meant. So you shyly respond, affirming his suspicion.
Wooyoung sighs downward, looking like he just a lost a battle. “I told myself I wouldn’t do anything with you, scolded myself even.”
His words definitely are a shock to you, you stopping your fiddling on his chain to give him your full attention again, “What do you mean?”
“You’re just too cute, Y/N-ah, how could I not think about you in those kinds of ways,” his eyes are back on you, large and dark with plead, “But even when we got paired up together, I told myself to not do anything stupid. Because you don’t deserve that.”
The confession makes your head spin while watching him even more intensely.
“Are you sure this is something you want? If we do this, I promise you I’m not gentle and I don’t have any intention on being so.” He waits for your response but your mind is still murky from his previous statements. What does all of this mean? What was he trying to tell you?
You study him further. The softening of his eyes deepening the longer you two sit in silence. How his now dried hair hangs flowy on his forehead. His skin is clear with full lips. An absolutely gorgeous sight to take in. He’s absolutely gorgeous.
So much so in fact, that you don’t spare another second before leaning in to touch his lips with your own. And he’s quick to react, reciprocating the action in an instant.
It feels as if any previous doubts in your mind just fade out, leaving you with the blissful feeling of Wooyoung. He kisses you like he’s starved. Not sloppy, but uniformed. Almost like he’s been waiting for this and doesn’t want to mess up.
Your mouth moves perfectly with his, and you start tilting your head to either side. He copies your action and the two of you begin to get completely absorbed in the make out.
The hands on your legs work their way up, snaking behind you to cup your ass. He’s had literal dreams of this, and how your ass would feel in his hands. But those don’t compare, can’t compare, to how euphoric he feels in the moment.
When Wooyoung slips his tongue in your mouth, ever so slightly, the minor action causes you to whine a bit, his own groan buzzing into you. You feel some growth in his lap, soon a hardness pressing in your inner thigh.
Your breathing becomes irregular as random sounds emit from you, loving the way your core reacts accordingly to the pleasure. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on so quickly. Without even realizing you start to feel friction build from underneath you, now catching onto your hips rolling against his lap.
He starts to take charge though, grabbing and moving your ass to further grind into him. You break away first at the new sensation, huffing and hipping lightly while you struggle to keep your eyes open. Wooyoung takes notice in the way your expression looks so overwhelmed and just so damn cute.
“You like grinding on my cock?” The words tumble out as he flops his head against the headboard, “We haven’t even done anything and you look like you’re already gonna cum.”
His words are ammo to you, fueling you to gyrate faster while your hands go up above his head. He bites his lip, hard, to stop a loud groan from escaping
“You can’t cum just yet, Y/N-ah.” The sentence is more airy, like he’s struggling himself with the pleasure. You still continue though, too caught up in your satisfaction to notice him hoist an arm around your back and flip you face up onto the bed.
He lands between you, throwing in more clothed thrusts while holding in a smile at your reaction, a mix between lust and anger.
“What-” He bucks particularly hard into it your core that you thought you were going to orgasm right there, “Nrgh! What was that for?”
Wooyoung dips his head down to your cheeks, kissing them tenderly before scooting towards your ear. He eases up on the thrusts too until the two of you work at an equal, tiny pace, “I couldn’t have you cumming, not when I finally get to enjoy this.”
He wiggles down a bit till he reaches your stomach, taking the fabric of your shirt between his fingers and lifting it up towards your mouth. You gladly accept it, him shoving the tee until your mouth was full.
When he glances back down, your top now fully in view, his eyes almost bulge out of his head.
"Holy..." He drags his fingers up the curve of your waist to your outer breasts, which are practically spilling out of the tight shirt, "You wore this for me?"
He smirks up at you and your eyebrows furrow at the bad joke. He's lucky your mouth's being occupied at the moment.
Wooyoung goes back to admiring you, craning his neck up to place open kisses on the soft flesh that pokes out before working his way to in between your cleavage.
Your heavy breathing, though muffled, is still audible enough for him to hear, lifting his head up quickly to speak to you, "I think those are gonna be my favorite noises."
You dismiss him, grabbing the back of his head to push him back into you. Wooyoung laughs at your neediness and eagerly goes into your tits again.
The feeling starts to build again in your heat, with you gradually increasing your movements against him. He responds to you by rolling himself further between your legs in a rhythm, the sloppy sounds of him kissing and sucking at you still filling your ears.
You've always been a quick pleaser, not typically lasting more than 15 minutes when pleasuring yourself.
If Wooyoung hadn't changed positions earlier, you most likely would've finished like that, which for the record you were perfectly contempt with.
But now everything feels like so much. So much happening at once that the desperation to spill over comes clawing out.
Wooyoung doesn't let that happen though, letting up once he felt you grinding even harder into him. A single string of spit still connecting to your breasts hangs past his mouth, another all-knowing grin plastered on.
"Someone's a little quick on the trigger." Throwing caution to the wind, he sticks a hand against the middle of your underwear, making you squirm on the spot, "Oh, I can see why. You're fucking soaked."
You mumble out a reply but he pretends he doesn't understand, which to be fair he probably doesn't.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Say it again for me." This time he pulls your shirt out, your own little spit string dropping down to your chin.
You gasp harshly, "You're so mean, Wooyoung."
He peers back to your face, staring intently at you when his fingers below push rather deep into your underwear, the action causing you to hike up and grimace, “Hmmm….yeah, I guess I can be.”
In no time his mouth is back between your cleavage as his fingers work your clothed core. You think your hearts gonna explode from overstimulation. You wiggle yourself against his hand, twitching when he starts to move your fabric to the side.
The bare touch he has brings such a feeling you’ve never experienced, making you shiver. The way he would cup your pussy momentarily before releasing, rubbing at your clit again then repeating it all once more. Honestly you thought you were game over.
Till Wooyoung takes his hand away from you fully and sits up. Your face drops at the absence of his touch.
“Hey, what’d I say?” He fakes an angry expression before cracking out into a playful one, “You can’t cum just yet, I haven’t even fucked you.”
He notices the greediness in your eyes, the way you’ve only been concerned on getting yourself off and not him. And he’s not even mad at you for it, finding it rather enticing the desperation you have. Actually, it’s turning him on so fucking much.
“Look at this.”
His voice is authoritative, and when you don’t look exactly where he wants you to, he roughly grabs your hand to palm him through his boxers, “I’m leaking right now and I haven’t even taken my cock out.”
The wetness permeates to your fingertips and you quiver, a sudden sensation taking over. Like you want him inside of you right now.
“I’m gonna pound you until you’re shaking from me,” He wraps his arms underneath you to hoist you up, twisting you around till you’re on all 4’s, “So no orgasming. At least until I say so.”
You go to speak when a hand pushes your head down into a pillow, automatically arching your back with your ass poking out. Your underwear spreads across your cheeks which causes Wooyoung to sigh happily, “I could look at your sexy ass forever.”
“Wooyoung-ah,” You heave, already waiting too long for him, “Hurry up.”
Your voice again was never rude, but it did come off as whiny. He goes to make your wish come true but before that, he lands a harsh smack against your plush skin.
“Fuck, it even jiggles. Y/N-ah, you’re gonna make me cum on myself.” His words make your eyes flutter, swearing that if he kept talking you’d be done for, again.
“Need you in me…..please.” Your last attempt at pleading does the trick for you, with him bringing your underwear down to your knees. He positions himself behind you as he goes to pull down his boxer shorts.
“No more stalling starting right now.” A stroke of dick sends tingles down his spin, then, of course, he toys with your entrance.
Sliding just barely his damp head into you before swiftly pulling it out, rubbing his full length on your pussy lips. He taunts you in a manner that you couldn’t even verbally protest cause it still felt so good.
“I….” Your voice trails off from his continued teasing but that does stop him from being curious.
“Mmm, what’s that?” There’s no edge to his tone this time. If anything, he presents himself softer and more genuine.
You choke on your breath, “I’ve never wanted someone so bad before.” Wooyoung hears the possessiveness in your voice and just like that, his facade comes crumbling down, reaching his breaking point.
If only you’d understand how true those words are for himself.
“Okay,” he pause himself to readjust, “I’m actually gonna fuck you into the sheets now.”
Before he does, his reaches a hand to grab your hair, twisting it to pull you back, “Just let me know when to stop.”
You nod as your consent, which then Wooyoung throws your head back down and brings your waist further up.
He gives no warning when he thrusts himself fully deep into your core, the motion causing your head to almost drive into the headboard.
“Oh my….you’re so damn tight.” His own eyes practically roll back at the feeling of your walls around him, and he almost doesn’t wanna move.
But then you wiggle your hips in need of some friction, and soon he begins to pound into you, just like he said he would.
It starts off slow, him letting the action run through you as your slickness spreads across his cock. You even have the strength to rock with him though you weren’t sure how much longer that would last.
He’s holding onto your waist for support, but then switches one of them to the headboard above, sort of mimicking your earlier position.
His head becomes dizzy with your soft, tiny groans and the slapping sound of his skin against yours as a background.
“S-Shit, think you’re gonna make me…..” Wooyoung becomes too enveloped in the sensation, the intensity from you both, to even finish the sentence.
He gets faster while you grow more limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you and soon you don’t have the willpower to move. He looks down briefly to your ass, taking the hand from your waist to slap your cheeks.
“Ah!” You gulp in for air, “shit….”
“Oh you like that?” Another one lands on you, though this had some sting behind it. But you love it, “Told you, you needa spankin.”
He doesn’t stop there. Grasping at your tits in front, he forcefully tugs your tank top downwards till they fall out, “Need both.”
Then, he unleashes a smack onto your breasts, this round making you cry aloud, “Wooyoung!”
“You’re so cute, Y/N-ah.” He roughly grabs your mounds of flesh and shakes them, “I love your body so damn much, could fuck you all the time.”
He goes back to fucking you, but your mind wanders. You want to ask if he truly means that, but when a particularly hard thrusts sends you soaring out of your stars, you’re quick to forget.
There’s a build up approaching and your cunt feels extra sensitive from the previous activities. You’ve surprised yourself by lasting this long, but you know your end is near.
“Woo, can I-” The words get caught in your throat and instead you croak them out.
He knows exactly what you want though, and how to give it to you. He folds himself over to completely engulf you, him wrapping both arms around your stomach. He’s still pumping in and out yet his pace has increased significantly, “Yeah, yeah you can cum now. You’ve been such a good girl.”
With his permission you let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the intoxicating heat spreading all around. Wooyoung’s breathing is present behind you as he struggles to find his own regular pattern.
He’s whining, though quietly, into your shoulder, muttering small praises, “Fuck, you’re so good. So damn good. You’ll never let anyone else have you, right?”
He drives his hips continuously as you utter incoherent nonsense, “Promise me no one else will ever see you like this. Can you do that for me?”
You can hardly muster a reply but after a few more gasps it come out, “I promise.”
Your eyes begin to flutter while Wooyoung peppers small kisses down your spine, “You’re mine now.”
And just like that, your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, just a massive explosion causing you to shake. The feeling of your walls contracting around his cock causes Wooyoung to finish too, the two of you cumming in sync. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, and you whimper loudly.
You’ve never had one hit you so intense before, and even Wooyoung’s load is more than usual as he fills you up, your cunt milking his dick in pulses.
You try to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible, taking a mental note of the whole night until slowly you come down from your high.
Wooyoung finishes as well, his hips growing slow until he finally stops. Instead of removing himself immediately however, he takes in the feeling of him still buried in you, loving how warm you feel. You both breathe heavy and you feel him clench his arms around you.
After regaining your composure, you flop down onto his bed, Wooyoung following close behind you. He lands on top of you and sighs, “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
You giggle lightly, “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah,” He plants another kiss this time on your inner neck, “And I’m definitely your last.”
At that, you crane your neck to him, leisurely turning over as he scoots back slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hair is now slightly wet from sweat, showing just how much effort he put in, “Cause, you’re never getting cock from anyone else again. If you want it, you have me.”
The smile that spreads afterwards is shit-eating and mischievous. You’re amused by this but don’t oppose it, and Wooyoung senses your acceptance at his declaration.
He drops down to your lips, kissing you in such a passion that felt had a little more to it than he’s willing to show and maybe you don’t want him to. At least, not right now.
Just as you start to get into it, he breaks away, “Wait, I remembered something.”
“What is it?” Your cock your head to the side a bit in confusion, an act that briefly makes him put his guard down. But he quickly regains it, and scoots down towards the end of the bed.
He takes ahold of your back thighs and pushes them towards you, your legs reactively parting slightly. He then moves your knees apart and creates an open view for himself to your pussy.
There's an audible groan, "Oh fuck, I need to burn this image in my head.”
His cum leaking out of you combined with your puffy cunt practically makes him hard again. He continues praising you and gloats about how fuckable your cunt is.
Your face burns as you can’t help but cower from the attention, but apart of you knows you’ll be getting more of this in the future.
Better start getting used to it now.
- Bonus -
When you wake up again, it’s to your phone violently ringing off in the distance. You feel a heavy arm slung over you and it takes you a minute to realize Wooyoung is nestling between your neck with a leg on top of yours, out like a light.
Still groggy, you sit up, some surprise coursing through you as you notice your lack of clothing. But that didn’t matter as of right now. All you want is to find this phone and shut it the hell up.
You aimlessly search through the comforter, then bending over to reach the ground when you see a light being covered by your jeans pocket.
Now you have to get up and actually go retrieve the device, something you do then your back onto the bed.
The photo ID is of you and your roommate 2 years ago when you guys first met in high school. A memory you’d rather forget from when she took you fishing for the first time with her family. Your eyes also dart up to the time which reads 2:43 AM.
Oh gosh.
You press the answer button, “Hello-”
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ve been texting and calling you for the past 2 hours and I was getting worried!”
You wince at her shouting, holding the phone a way from your ear slightly, “Sorry, sorry. The storm got really bad so Wooyoung offered to let me sleep here. I should’ve told you that-”
“Damn straight you should’ve! Had me thinking the fucker kidnapped you or something, you’re so reckless.”
Your eyebrows furrow, minor irritation pricking at you for her earlier stunt, “Okay, I get where you’re coming from, but you’re the one who knew it was gonna rain. Why would you let me wear grey-!”
“Oh come on, you are not bringing that up right no-”
Your phone gets plucked out of your grasp and soon you hear the end-call noise. You look over at Wooyoung who’s resting up on his forearms, your phone in a hand with your call gone from the screen.
“She’s really loud, woke me up from our nap time.” He mutters then goes searching through your phone before he appears to type out something.
“Wooyoung!” Your shock subsides as the realization of what he’d just done dawns on you, “You can’t hang up on her, she’s my roommate.”
He just shrugs his shoulders, your scolding rolling off of him, “I just did though, plus shouldn’t she be asleep right now? It’s too late for you girls to be up.”
You scowl at him when he glances up at you, shooting you a tiny smile. Then he hands out your phone and you take it skeptically, “What’d you do?”
“Relax, I just told your roommate you’d talk to her in the morning. She needs to take a chill pill, texting you 47 times, holy shit.”
You graze through the messages and see all of the texts she’d sent asking about your whereabouts and then you see the one Wooyoung sent merely seconds ago.
“Hey, come back to bed, you need sleep.” He attempts to pull you back to him and you allow him to, falling down into his chest.
And that’s how you spend the rest of the night, safe in Wooyoung’s arms.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
Text
ellie with a mean gf!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(prjoecting like a mf rn...)
a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!
content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .
i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...
------------------------------------------------------------
- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!
- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !
- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.
- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.
- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!
- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :
you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.
ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!
- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:
you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.
now she remembered.
she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.
you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.
she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)
- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.
- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .
you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.
"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"
you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.
"what?- what does this have to do with me-"
"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."
ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."
your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.
- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)
- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!
- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...
- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.
whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.
"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.
you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."
she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.
- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.
- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!
- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.
she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.
"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."
728 notes · View notes
dallaji · 6 months
Text
Hope we make it to the Cloud.
♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.
WORD COUNT: 10k
CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.
- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>
————— ୨୧ —————
The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 
“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”
Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.
None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.
It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.
Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.
And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.
“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”
Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 
You had seen Bada around.
After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.
“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”
“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”
That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”
Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.
You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.
Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 
You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.
Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.
As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”
The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.
You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.
“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 
Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.
“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.
“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.
If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.
It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.
“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”
She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”
You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.
Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.
As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.
She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”
Right, of course.
“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.
Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.
It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”
Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 
You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 
Proving you wrong, she smiled back.
“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 
You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.
Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”
You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 
As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 
You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.
You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.
But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.
“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”
You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”
“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”
“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.
“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 
Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 
“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.
“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 
You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.
“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”
You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”
“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”
You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 
“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”
“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”
————— ୨୧ —————
Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 
Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 
You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.
The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.
The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.
“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.
She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 
“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”
“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”
Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 
“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 
You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 
“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 
“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”
————— ୨୧ —————
Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 
On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 
On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.
Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.
However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.
“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”
You didn’t like the sound of that.
————— ୨୧ —————
By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 
The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 
You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.
You looked good together.
“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 
She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.
“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 
She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 
In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 
Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”
You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.
Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.
“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”
You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.
It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.
The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 
As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.
At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 
But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 
You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.
Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 
You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.
“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.
But instead she said: “That was incredible.”
“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 
“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.
“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 
“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”
“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.
Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 
“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 
That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 
Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 
You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”
————— ୨୧ —————
The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 
The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.
It had changed.
Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.
But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 
Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 
“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.
“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 
You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.
“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.
“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.
Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.
Bada.
In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.
You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.
You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 
Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 
“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”
She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 
“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”
“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 
Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 
Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.
You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 
The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.
Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.
“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”
You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.
“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 
You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.
Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.
Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 
She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 
After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 
You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 
Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”
“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 
Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.
Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”
The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”
The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“Why?” You asked, genuinely.
For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 
“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”
Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.
You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.
But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.
Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.
There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 
You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.
You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.
She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 
Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.
She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 
The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 
The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 
The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.
“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”
She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.
She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”
You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.
She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 
“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”
In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 
You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 
“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 
It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.
One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 
“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.
“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.
She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 
“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 
She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 
Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.
“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”
Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 
She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.
You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 
Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.
You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 
You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 
As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.
You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.
Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.
“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”
“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 
“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”
“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.
After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 
When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.
“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.
“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.
As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.
A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.
“Hey, Bada.”
“Hm?”
“Camera’s still recording.”
She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 
“Oh, fuck.”
1K notes · View notes
angelkissiies · 1 year
Text
pretty little things
abby anderson x reader x ellie williams
cw : modern!au , hockey!abby , dealer!ellie , ditzy/girly!reader, mentions of drug use, polyamory, threesome, degradation, praise, use kink, dumbification, mind breaking, subspace, oral (f!receiving), slight mean!dom energy, other things ? maybe ? NSFR
wc : 5.1K
a / n : kinda went a little crazy with this one. my bad ! if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, SQUINT
Tumblr media
“Hi, Ellie.” You smiled, holding your skates close to your chest as you leaned against her door frame. You were no stranger to the girl, a long-time customer, but also a close friend. Those words didn’t quite equate to the situationship you found yourself in, considering that you were already taken by the captain of the hockey team, not that she minded. 
The brunette bit back a smile, turning her key in the lock before pushing the door open, turning on her heel to look at you. “What did I tell you about pretty girl discounts? Bad for business.” She teased, waving you in with a playful eye roll, her words were empty- seeing as she found herself rarely charging you. “Usual?” 
You practically skipped into her room, bubbling with excitement as you placed yourself onto her futon. “Actually, I'm not here to buy-,” You paused, recanting the statement before continuing. “Not yet at least.” You come here with a mission in mind, well, more so a request. 
“What’s going on with you, doll?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she pressed the door closed, dragging her conversed feet on the carpet as she came to sit in the chair adjacent to you. Her hair was tossed into a messy half-up half-down bun, making strands fall and frame her face as she leaned forward to assess the situation further, hands rubbing on the rough material of her jeans. “Is it Abby? Is she not cool with this anymore?” 
It was something she’d come to fear, seeing as most girlfriends wouldn't be so willing to let their girl get with someone else, though the past few months had flown by issue free- Abby joining the two of you on outings when she was able to. Given the history they had with each other, it was tense but bearable, Ellie finding ways to push down her attraction to the burly blonde- though secretly hoping that she’d make another move. But, she never batted so much as an eyelash to the triangle you three had going on, it terrified Ellie at first- thinking that somehow Abby was going to find a way to scare her off campus, seeing as she knew about her dealing. That day never came, which made her suspicious of the way you were acting now. 
You placed the skates down on her couch, leaning forward in a way that crinkled the pristine white of your uniform- making it look yellow in the sunlight. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” You hummed excitedly, eyes darting down to her lips momentarily before you corrected yourself, moving back up to meet her hazy eyes. “We talked and..” You trailed off, gauging her reaction.
“And? And what?” Ellie huffed, brows knitting together. 
You giggled quietly, lowering your voice as if someone could hear you. “She wants to make it official. You, me, her. Together.” You gushed, an excited smile splayed across your blushed lips. It was something you’d been talking to the both of them about forever, knowing the residual feelings they both held for each other after their not-so-secret fling freshman year, so to say you were excited was an understatement. “We’re gonna have dinner at my place tonight, to talk it over some more.” You spoke the last part like an offer, not wanting her to feel obliged to come if she wasn’t ready. 
Ellie gulped slightly, her lips parting as she searched for the words to say. It had been so long since she’d even considered the option of being in a polyamorous relationship with the two of you. It crossed her mind, of course, seeing as you tended to bring it up, but she didn't think it was possible- mainly the fact that she just assumed Abby hated her. It made the most sense in her mind, why wouldn't she hate her? Ellie was the reason she was outed as a lesbian, not that it was completely her fault but ‘let's fuck in the locker room and hope nobody comes in’ definitely had something to do with it. That was the end of their fling, the feelings just left to rot away- though in Ellie’s case, they did quite the opposite. They ended up growing into something untameable. “A-are you sure? That’s really unlike her-,” She began, only to be cut off by your hand coming to rest on top of her now sweaty one. 
“She asked for this specifically, I didn’t bring it up.” You clarified, watching as her emerald eyes lit up at the statement, though she quickly tried to cover the reaction by looking away. You bit back a smile, squeezing her hand gently. “Please come?” 
She nodded, almost too quickly, making herself dizzy as she stood with you. “Okay, yeah, I’ll come.” She spoke, giving your hand a small squeeze, shaking her head slightly as she tried to snap out of the anxious haze she’d dropped into. “Uh, anyways, you said not yet– should I bring a couple tonight? Is Abby,” She paused, words tightening as she said her name. “Uh, still cool with it?” She glanced towards the couch, where your skates rested, before grabbing them and holding them out towards you. 
You gave her a smile, nodding as you took tiny back steps towards the door– the sharp beeping of your watch now telling you, you were late. “Yes, please. That would be great, Els.” You hummed, taking them and practically bounding to the door, sliding out before you could let yourself get more distracted. The small squeak of a ‘thank you’ echoed as you disappeared down the hall, leaving the brunette in silence. 
What the hell? 
The day passed unreasonably fast, Ellie doing everything in her power to slow it down, resorting to working on physics homework– which only made things worse. For once, she actually understood the lesson and suddenly she was left with a stack of finished papers and a dinner date in half an hour. Her anxiety shooting through the roof as she paced her bedroom, a pocket full of weed and throat full of bile– there was no way she saw out of this. As much as she wanted, needed, to believe that Abby really wanted her again– something inside of her was convinced this was still some kind of sick joke, a prank orchestrated in rebuttal to the hell she’d ended up putting the blonde through. 
A buzz lit up her phone in the dim light of her room, the message reading ‘Are you on the way? I’m making dinner now. Abby’s gonna be getting here in like ten minutes, her practice ran over.’ 
Ellie’s heart leapt, pushing her into action, as her feet carried her into the living room– grabbing the nearest jacket and leaving her dorm in a rush of panicked puffs of breath. 
‘Yeah, leaving now! See you soon, doll.’ She rushed, heart hammering as her shaky hands fumbled with the lock on her door, finally managing to click it into place before speeding off down the hall. It was a fifteen-minute walk to your place off campus, making her internally kick herself for waiting so long, now having to be the last one arriving– something she knew Abby would notice. 
Fifteen minutes, which meant 900 seconds for her to change her mind and turn around. 
899.. 
Your practice had gotten cut short that afternoon, allowing you to go shopping and gather all the necessities for dinner– for that you were thankful, so as you bustled around the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a– painfully small, as your mother would say– baby tee, it was all coming together just as it should’ve. The smell of the cake you’d started baking on a whim filling the entire house with a soft vanilla scent, making you hum in appreciation. It was a welcome distraction, allowing you to focus on something other than the growing anxiety in your tummy as you awaited the arrival of your girls. 
As if clockwork, the front door lock snapped out of place and you heard the heavy footsteps of none other than Abby coming down the hallway. “Pretty?” She called out, a bag of sports equipment tucked under her arm. “Man, it smells really good in here.” She commented, turning the corner to halt in the doorway of the kitchen, letting the bag come down onto the floor with an obnoxious ‘thump.’ “Oh wow.” 
You turned on your heel, a smile pulling at your plush lips as you beckoned her inside. “How was practice, Bee?” You asked, wiping your hand on the half apron hanging around your waist before reaching out to her– pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Missed you!”
The blonde chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer, resting her head atop yours. She released a tense breath she’d been holding all day, the situation at hand being the reason she’d been made to stay so late at practice. She’d been so in her head, she’d caused the team to fall behind, therefore she opted to stay behind for everyone and pick up– that usually being a team effort, but she took it on in an attempted apology. “Missed you too,” She sighed, strong arms holding you flush to her chest. “Practice was good, long is all.” 
You nodded, pressing a tiny kiss to her chest as you pulled away to look up at her. “Are you sure you still wanna do this? We can wait if you’re not ready.” You reminded, taking in the lines of stress pulling at her eyes. “Ellie is practically shitting herself about this, so nobody would be upset.” You chuckled, alluding to the mess of a text you’d received just before Abby arrived– something about being stuck behind some college tour and being sorry for being late– not that you minded, you thought it was cute. 
Abby perked up at your words, taking a small gulp as she imagined the girl on her way over. There was nothing else she wanted quite like to call this all off, the idea of actually getting a chance to tell Ellie how she felt sent a wave of nausea over her, it had been so long that she’d begun to fear that the girl had lost the feelings they shared– that was scarier than anything that could’ve come out of tonight. “H-how did she seem?” She asked, words falling upon deaf ears as a knocking echoed down the hall– making her stomach lurch. 
“That’s Els!” You giggled, tearing yourself from her grip. “Could you put something on the tv? So you guys won't be bored while I finish up?” You practically skipped down the hallway, slippers almost making you slip as you lost traction, quickly making a move to fix the flyaways that fell from behind your ears before jerking the door open to reveal a slightly damp Ellie. Your mouth fell open, reaching out to pull her inside as you noticed the heavy rain that had begun sometime between Abby’s arrival and Ellie’s. 
She quirked a small awkward smile as she shuffled inside, instinctually kicking off her waterlogged converse. “Hey,” She began, glancing around inside for Abby before settling back in on you and the, now, contemplative look on your face. 
“C’mon, there is absolutely no way you can stay in those clothes. You are gonna get so sick.” You tutted, practically dragging her from the door and to your bedroom across the hall. If there was one thing you knew about the girl, it was that her immune system reminded you of that of a victorian child– frail and pretty much useless. “You can borrow my clothes, okay?” 
Ellie opened her mouth to object but decided against it as a chill entered her spine, not wanting to fall victim to another cold. Yes, the idea of wearing pieces from your– mostly– pink wardrobe was unsettling. But no, she wasn’t about to say that to you– she knew it would hurt your feelings. So she watched as you dug through a basket of folded clothes on your bed, freeing a (thankfully) non-cropped white shirt and a pair of cookie monster printed pajama shorts– pushing them towards her with a triumphant smile. 
“These will definitely fit you! So, change and then meet in the living room? Abby’s putting something on to watch.” You hummed, stepping back to the door to give her some privacy. “If you need some new socks, you know where they are.” With that, you backed out, letting the door come to a soft close behind you. 
The girl took a small breath, digging the baggy of pre-rolls from her pocket– thankfully double-bagged to account for the weather. “Shit.” She hissed, tossing them down on the plush white of your blankets– the contrast almost enough to make her laugh if she wasn’t so nervous. She shrugged herself out of her shirt, letting it fall to the ground with a moist plop. This was the worst day for this, not only was she late but she was now stuck wearing a pair of your pajamas– she almost threw up at the idea of Abby seeing her like this. Sure, it wasn’t her fault but as she wrestled with her jeans– she could've sworn her subconscious was laughing at her. “How the fuck did this happen.” She spoke into the empty room, sliding into the shorts you’d given her and letting them hang on her hips loosely. 
She ducked down to peer into your vanity mirror, exhaling in a short puff before navigating to the door– hand beginning to gain a tremor. This was it. Leaving this room meant accepting whatever fate was awaiting her outside. “Shit, shit, shit.” She whispered as she opened the door, exiting the room and b-lining to the living room. 
Abby was mindlessly scrolling through movies you’d saved to her watch list, hair now released from its tormenting braid. “Pretty, are you sure you don't need any help?” She called out, feeling useless as she just sat unmoving before the rapidly flickering screen. “I really don’t mi–,” Her words were cut short as she watched Ellie appear in the doorway. “Hi.” 
She froze in her step, giving the blonde an awkward smile. “Hey, Abby.” She said simply, tugging the ends of the shirt down further to account for the lack of coverage on her legs as she glanced around for a place to sit– but only coming up on the cushion beside the burly woman. “Do you mind if i–?” She asked, nodding towards the space next to her. 
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.” Abby responded, scooting over to give her some more space, tearing her eyes from the girls in fear she might see right through the ‘chill girl’ act she was putting on. Her hands came to rest on her lap, the remote almost completely forgotten, wringing her fingers together anxiously. “Nice outfit.” She joked halfheartedly, giving a small nod to the tiny cookie print poking out from under her shirt. 
Ellie let a small laugh pull from her lips, the anxiety easing slightly as she found some common ground. “Yeah, thanks. It’s sesame street couture.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth, pulling her legs up to cross under her as she sat down. “Probably should’ve brought an umbrella but, you know.” 
The blonde nodded, biting the inside of her cheek before responding. “Or, uh, you could call me.” She offered, glancing over towards the girl for a second– their eyes meeting. “I could pick you up next time.” 
She felt her heart clench, a sudden urge to explode entering her stomach. “No, no. That’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.” She could’ve died on the spot, the breaking in her voice betraying her private thoughts, face flushing. This was so stupid, she felt so fucking stupid, here Abby was being the most relaxed person alive and she was stumbling over simple sentences just by being in the girls' vicinity. 
“It’s no problem to me, really, just call.” Abby pushed, eyes shifting down to the girl's lips before she corrected herself— snapping back up to meet her eyes. Something inside of her felt familiar, an age-old ache that arose in her chest at the lingering glances and nervous laughter “Ellie, I—,” 
“Abby—,” 
They both paused, incredulous laughter falling from their lips at the coincidence. 
“Sorry, you go first.” 
“No, no. I insist.”
Ellie reached over to punch the girl playfully on the shoulder when her wrist was caught in Abby’s hand— the sudden change in her approach sent a lump into her throat. Did she do something wrong? Was she moving too fast? “Oh, I’m sorry,” she began, coughing slightly to dispel the tension that now surrounded them. “I didn’t mean to—,” 
Abby couldn’t resist it anymore, using her grip on the girl's wrist to jerk her forward— their lips crashing together in a surprised mess of spit and teeth. She’d gone so long under the anxiety of being around Ellie that she’d begun to forget the longing she had for her. Though, upon seeing her it was like that spark had relit itself— sending an undying hunger into her stomach as she begged for just a single taste of what their love was. “Fuck, sorry.” She huffed, trying to pry herself away from the stunned girl before her. 
The brunette watched, bewildered, as Abby inched away from her lips— hands moving up to secure in her black t-shirt. She pulled her back down and onto her lips, muscles relaxing as she finally realized how badly she needed her. This was what she’d been searching for— no amount of girls or parties or weed had ever filled the gaps in her chest like she could. She sunk back against the arm of the couch, hands moving fervently across the solid surface of her chest, lips bruising from the force of the kiss. 
You’d finally taken the cake from the oven, its slight golden color making a pleased smile arise on your lips as you replaced the empty oven rack with a small casserole dish containing what was going to be the night's dinner. Your fingers hovered over the dials, lip pulling from between your teeth as you clicked it to 400 degrees, hoping that it could be done in thirty minutes.
The house felt a little too quiet all of a sudden, making your brows knit together as you considered the possibility that Ellie had left. Surely that wasn’t the reason for the silence, you’d have heard the door— right? 
You abandoned your post in the kitchen, untying your apron and leaving it on the counter as you stalked into the hall— glancing down towards your bedroom door. It was closed, as it usually was, but it occurred to you that you hadn’t heard Ellie come out. Maybe she got cold feet, you reasoned, tiptoeing down to the room and giving the door a small knock. 
Silence. 
“Ellie?” Nothing. 
You pushed the door open and took in the emptiness of the room, eyes landing on the pile of wet clothes she’d left on your floor before letting a soft breath of relief fall from your mouth. She was still here. You locked in on the baggy of pre-rolls you’d asked her to bring and your face lit up, bouncing over to the bed to pick them up before practically running down into the living room. 
You’d not had a second to speak before your eyes widened, landing on the two girls in a messy battle for dominance. The sight sent an ache directly into your cunt, your legs unconsciously squeezing together as you tried to silently back out of the doorway. That was until you tripped over the edge of the carpet and landed— loudly— on the plush chair near the door. 
Abby’s head snapped up, her eyes blown with a primal lust as her lips pulled back into a slight smirk. “Little pervert, aren’t you?” She teased, flushed face coming back down to peer at Ellie— who was catching her breath. “We have an audience.” 
The brunette pushed herself up on her elbows to look at you, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she smiled. “Let’s not disappoint her then.” She spoke, eyes eating up the slight tremor in your legs as you clenched them together tighter. “Let’s give her what she wants.” 
Your face burned bright red, the transparency of your actions making you feel dumb under their gaze. Yet, even as they tore their attention from you— divulging back into their desperate pursuit of each other, you couldn’t stop the ache growing in your stomach. “M’god.” You choked out, quiet enough to avoid drawing their attention off of each other. You could feel the warmth spreading in your panties, fabric sticking to your cunt uncomfortably as you rubbed your legs together. 
Abby was right, you must have been a pervert. No normal person would get this turned on at the sight of two girls kissing. They weren’t even doing anything, just kissing— and here you were, shorts beginning to feel damp from how wet you’d managed to get just from the sight. Your hand inched closer to your waistband, unable to shake the overwhelming urge to touch yourself, feeling beyond filthy. 
You felt eyes land back on you, your hand stopping just as your fingers broke the waistband and tore your mindless gaze from the flexing of Abby’s arms as they caged Ellie beneath her. 
The girl had a devious look in her eyes, giving you a small nod of encouragement as she watched your fingers disappear under the fabric of your shorts— nipples erect under the exposing t-shirt, it was like you were made to be seen. “Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Ellie panted, scooting up to a sitting position, Abby’s knee putting delicious friction on her cunt as she shifted. “Look at her, Abby.” 
Abby’s eyes lifted to take you in, a familiar flush in your cheeks as your fingers came into contact with your slick. “She gets wet so fast, bet she’s soaked.” She stated, fingers tensing in the upholstery of the couch. If it was up to her, she’d have you wedged between the two of them already, but it wasn’t just up to her anymore. It was up to them. 
“You like seeing us together, silly girl?” Ellie asked, her hands coming to cup Abby’s chest, using her two fingers to roll her hardened nipples. 
The blonde hissed, a broken moan slipping from her mouth as she broke her gaze from you and redirected it to Ellie. There was a moment of silent communication, a couple beats passing before Abby spoke. “Come here, pretty.” 
You whimpered slightly, fingers slipping from your shorts as you scrambled to get back onto your feet. When Abby spoke, you listened. “Y-yes?” You said quietly, bright eyes glazed over with lust as you tried to soothe the pulsing in your stomach. 
Ellie leaned back, opening up the middle seat to you, her body trapping you on one side— Abby’s trapping you on the other until you were flush against both of them. “How would you like,” she began, pushing your hair back from your neck— dipping down to press a couple opened mouth kisses to the burning flesh. “— to have us both, right now?” 
Your eyes widened, your mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out. There was something so dizzying about the situation, making your mind leave your body as you glanced between the two of them. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, gotta use your words.” Abby’s hand snaked between your legs, cupping the soaked crotch of your thin shorts, a sinful groan escaping her lips. “Just say it and you won’t have to think anymore, promise. We’ll take care of you.” 
The feeling sent a pang of desperation into your cunt, causing you to nod fervently. “Yes, pleasepleaseplease.” You gushed, hands coming to ravel in Abby’s stretched t-shirt, mind swimming as she dipped down to catch your lips in a kiss. 
You felt hands everywhere. Having the two of them touching you in sync was like winning some type of sexual lottery— feeling their hot touches burn into your skin. You shouldn’t have been so easy, so messy, for them and you knew that very well, but you couldn’t help the mindset that seeped in with the slightest glimpse of their dominance. It was a drug. 
Ellie’s hand dipped under the hem of your shorts, and then your panties, before coming to drag two fingers over your swollen clit. She pulled her lip in between her teeth, stopping disgustingly pornographic noises from leaving her mouth as she felt her hand get coated in your arousal. “Good fucking god,” She scoffed, letting her fingers begin to massage the puffed ball of nerves. “You could be a pornstar, doll.” 
Your hips bucked into her fingers, craving more of what she was dishing out. A small gasp caused you to break your kiss with Abby, the noise eliciting from the girl behind you stuffing two fingers into your cunt. Your walls contracted around her at the sudden intrusion, slick dripping down her palm as she drove her fingers in and out of your drooling cunt. “Oh, god, Els.” You whined, letting your face fall flush with Abby’s chest. 
The blonde paused for a moment before a wicked idea came into mind, her body peeling itself from yours as she stood up by the couch— unbuttoning her jeans. Her fingers moved quickly, discarding them by the coffee table before winding her fingers in your free-flowing hair and pushing you down onto your hands. “Such a dumb girl,” she tsked, settling onto the couch in front of you with her legs propped open, fingers dragging down to pull her soaked panties to the side. “You think you can make me cum, pretty?” 
You nodded quickly, chest heaving as you crumpled under the pressure of Ellie’s fingers in your pulsing hole. “C-can. I can.” You shuddered, feeling the girl's fingers curl into your g-spot. The sight of the girl in front of you was enough to make your mouth water, her fingers now spreading the sticky folds for you. 
“Show me.” 
Ellie could’ve cum herself from the sight. Your back was arched in a way she’d only ever seen in porn, mouth now latched onto Abby’s weeping cunt as you struggled to eat her out through your whiny moans. It was like a wet dream she’d conjured up had actually panned out, the sudden realization that it was real making her clench around nothing. “Fucking hell.” She groaned, grabbing your free hand to force down her own boxers— your curious fingers coming to press into her clit. “Goddamn it, gentle, stupid.” She hissed, her words coming out harsher than she intended— but considering the way you clenched around her fingers, she took it as a good sign. “You like that? Want me to be mean to you?” 
Abby’s eyes rolled back at the desperate licks reverberating with moans, the sensation going directly to her clit. Her hands wound in your hair, hips grinding down onto your mouth. “Yeah, she fucking like that.” She choked out, legs trembling. “Stupid girl likes to be bullied, gets her wet.” 
You were seeing stars, the combination of Abby’s arousal on your tongue and Ellie’s fingers in your cunt were enough to overstimulate you into an empty space of submission. You struggled to keep up on Ellie’s clit, faltering with every hard thrust of her fingers, though you kept being snapped back into pace with the buck of her hips against your hand— allowing yourself to be used by them for their pleasure. 
“Just like that, doll.” Ellie rasped, guiding your fingers into her own cunt, practically riding them with how hard her hips were jerking. 
You dipped your tongue into Abby’s slit, using your nose to nudge her clit, feeling her thighs tense around your head. It was her telltale sign that she was close, hips jerking up to grind against your face. 
A sharp moan rolled off of her lips as she squeezed her thighs together, trapping you in her cunt as she came, her cum coating your mouth and chin. 
Ellie ground down against your digits, feeling the band rising in her stomach, chasing the climax she so desperately needed— her slim fingers driving in and out of your cunt despite the floaty feeling filling her head as she grew closer to orgasm. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.” She groaned, her head falling back as she fucked herself on your fingers, cunt pulsing. 
You felt Abby’s legs relax, her flushed face coming into view as she panted— eyes cast down to take in the sight of you. “Good girl,” she praised, raising her hand to wipe the cum from your lips with a swipe of her thumb, before bringing the digit to her lips and tasting herself— making you whine. “Keep being good ‘n make Ellie cum.” 
You nodded, eyes completely blown as you curled your fingers into her spongy spot, tongue darting out to collect the slick remaining on your lips. The feeling of tightness grew in your tummy as your body trembled under the pressure, a bubbling sensation beginning to spill over as your fingers spasmed inside of her— mouth falling open as your cunt clenched her slim fingers in between soft walls. 
Ellie gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as her band snapped, a gush of liquid soaking your hand as she leaned against the back of the couch slightly for support. “Oh, fuck.” She sputtered, hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. 
You slumped slightly, arms giving out beneath you, making your face come to rest on Abby’s bare thigh as she rubbed your hair gently. You didn’t dare to speak, fearing the words would come out as meaningless babble, eyes fluttering with contentment as you felt Ellie’s fingers slip from inside of you. 
“Wait,” Ellie spoke suddenly, making a show out of taking a deep inhale, her face going pale. “Does anyone else smell that?” 
Abby perked up, adjusting her underwear as she took a deep breath. “Oh shit!” She half laughed, sliding out from beneath you to dart into the kitchen. Much to her dismay, her speculations proved to be correct— a thick trail of smoke coming from the oven. “Ellie, uh, grab my phone and order in... I don't think this is salvageable.” She called into the living room, using your discarded apron to waft the smoke out of the room, making sure to click the oven off. 
Your eyes went wide, sense returning to you in the shock of the moment, searching around frantically as you dropped from subspace. “Dinner! I-I ruined dinner,” You began, looking up to the girl as she spun you around to face her— hands cupping your cheeks. “Els, I ruined it.” 
She shook her head, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “No, doll. You didn’t ruin anything.” She affirmed, the pad of her thumb caressing your flushed cheeks. “You fixed something much more important.” 
“I did?” 
“Yeah, you did.” 
4K notes · View notes
luveline · 4 days
Note
Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her
If not I totally get it and no worries!!
ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k
The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night. 
It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van. 
“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.
It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend. 
You look up into his face. “M’not.” 
“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.” 
You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.” 
“Of course it does.” 
He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?” 
You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.” 
“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.” 
Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?” 
“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.” 
You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says. 
“James offered,” you butt in. 
“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.” 
You needle him with your arm. “Dick.” 
“You’re upset?” Remus asks. 
That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks. 
“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately. 
You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end. 
“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble. 
Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you. 
“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.” 
His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin. 
He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.” 
“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.” 
“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?” 
“Don’t be a liar,” you say. 
“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.” 
He kisses your cheek.
“Can we not tell James?” you ask. 
“We have to.” 
“I know.” 
James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!” 
Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.
“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”
“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.
“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.” 
You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh. 
“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.” 
“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.” 
You fluster in his hands. 
464 notes · View notes
spider-stark · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
SPIDER-BOY
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Two months. 
That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 
Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.
And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 
Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 
“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 
Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 
“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 
“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 
“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 
His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 
“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 
Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 
“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 
“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  
Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 
“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 
He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 
You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 
“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 
“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 
Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 
“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 
“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 
“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 
Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 
Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 
His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 
“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 
“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 
He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 
The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 
“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 
Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 
“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 
His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 
“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 
Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 
Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.
4K notes · View notes
thewulf · 4 months
Text
Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - Maybe a Jake x reader where the dagger squad and jake accidentally make her feel insecure? Like Jake and reader have been dating for a couple months so Jake wants to introduce her to them. So Jake throws a little bonfire bbq at his place and the daggers come to meet her... Read Rest Here
A/N: Changed up the ending a smidge. Hope you still love it!! :) My fav trope - angst to fluff, miscommunications galore!
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word Count: 2,000k +
Tumblr media
Brushing down your dress for probably the fifteenth time you let out a slow sigh while looking over yourself in the mirror. You were nervous, terribly nervous. You’d been dating Jake for four months now. You’d learned all about his friends at work. The people he spent more time with than anybody. The people he’d grown to love and adore after going on life threatening missions. See, they kept the group together as a tactical unit after their surprising success bombing the uranium facility. Even more so of a reason to bond. They were the best of friends now. And you were the girlfriend.
Being so nervous you hadn’t heard Jake walk in and watch you with cautious eyes. He too knew you were nervous. You were gentle. So damn gentle. That’s why he went for you. He was so tired of going after the same type of girl and getting the same results, nothing. He’d tried for years and years without much success. The over bubbly bottle blonde wasn’t what was going to suit his fancy. No. It was you.
He'd run into you in the last of places he really expected at the library. His sister and nephews were in town, and they wanted to go. So, he obliged. And thank goodness he did. He always counted his lucky stars with how fortunate he felt that he’d met you.
“You look beautiful.” He spoke in a softer than usual voice trying not to startle you into oblivion.
You still jumped. A small smile brushed across your lips as you spotted him in the doorway of his bedroom, “You scared me.” You let out a soft laugh not really responding to him.
He walked over to you and brought you in for a warm embrace, “Sorry darlin’.” A light but breathy chuckle came from above you. Closing your eyes, you breathed him in slowly trying to slow you rapidly beating heart, “They’re going to adore you.” He whispered before placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
You nodded gently into his chest, “I sure hope so.” Your wanted to curse as you heard your voice waver unfavorably. Surely, that was going to give you away.
He gave you a gentle squeeze, “You have nothing to be worried about darlin’. If you can handle me you can handle them.”
You giggled at his efforts to calm you down, “You’re quite the handful Jake.”
He hummed, “Maybe so.” He had to agree. But before he could really counter he heard the knocks at his front door, “They’re here.” He clicked his tongue gauging your reaction. Had he calmed you down? Were you going to be okay? Was it too soon? He wanted to collapse in on himself. He’d surely has never been so unsure of himself. He knew how much he liked you. Even loved you. He knew he wanted it to be you. He was so sure of that. But he was so unsure of how to make that happen. Love was always so fleeting for him. He wanted to make sure you would stay. You would always want to be around him. He never knew how to act. But he must’ve been doing something right as you stuck right by his side for the better part of the last four months.
“You don’t say.” You grinned up at him as he pulled away.
He rolled his eyes before giving your side a playful pinch, “Smart ass.”
“Come on. Let’s go get your friends.” You nodded towards the door letting him lead the way. You were trying to put on a brave face, but damn were you terribly nervous.
Tumblr media
You heard Natasha’s voice from the side of the house, “I’m really surprised you went for her.” Your breath caught in your throat as you failed to listen to the rest of the comment. ‘She’s so sweet and kind!’ But you didn’t hear that as you back up against the door. Well damn. At least you had thought it was going well.
You heard the group laugh and agree in confirmation. Shit. You really had misread the backyard throughout the night. You thought you and Bob were agreeing on so much. You really thought Natasha wanted to go shopping with you after you told her all the good local spots that didn’t include the gross megamall that swam with people you tried to avoid. You and Javier bonded over your love of the San Diego Padres. But maybe you were wrong. Maybe you’d really misread the situation that badly.
“Agreed! She’s not ridiculously tall and blonde and super talkative.” You could’ve sworn that was Bob’s voice speaking up. It seemed out of character for him. But he clearly didn’t like you. You backed yourself right back into the house. You didn’t hear the ‘She’s an actual human being that can have a real conversation. She’s great Jake,’ from him.
Instead, you frantically grabbed your phone from your back pocket. Thinking too fast you shot Jake a text,
Hey, not feeling super great. Crazy nauseous. Think I’m going to head home.
What you weren’t expecting was his insanely fast response. You thought he’d be engrossed in some conversation or agreement about you. Were you really that bad? Was he agreeing with them? It certainly didn’t sound like he was disagreeing with them.
Hold on darlin. Don’t go. I’ll be right in.
Your eyes went wide as you realized you really didn’t have time to slip out the front door like you’d planned. He’d be walking in the side door any second now. Damn you really hadn’t thought this through. You couldn’t lie to the man. No, you were an awful liar. Terrible actually.
You walked away from the door but just a moment later it clicked open. Jake’s big green eyes softening once he spotted you on the other side of the living room looking more frantic than ill. His eyes scanned your figure for any other signs of what was actually going on. He didn’t waste a second once he’d finished his once over. He walked right on up to you.
“What’s the matter love? My cooking isn’t sending you home is it?” He scanned you again with nothing but concern in his eyes. You didn’t really seem sick. You were just skiddish. He was used to this. Earlier on in the relationship he had to dance around you. Let you get used to his presence. He was so careful with you. And you bloomed right under him into something of your own. You got comfortable with him. Opened up like a book to him. Trusted him more than anything in the world.
“I’ve been feeling a little gross all day.” It wasn’t really a lie. You have felt gross all day. You’d been remarkably nervous over the entire thing.
He cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. He read you like a book though, “Honey, they love you!” He gave your arms a squeeze in reassurance. He seemed so adamant. He didn’t seem like he was lying to you. He seemed so confused. Had you missed something?
“It didn’t sound like it.” It slipped so quickly from your mouth you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or in your head. It was a tossup really.
His face dropped immediately, “What’re talking about darlin’?” His face was laced with nothing but confusion. You’d definitely missed something.
You pursed your lips. Oh well, secrets already out, “She said she was surprised you went for somebody like me.” Your eyes dropped in shame. You felt a little guilty for listening In on their conversation meant for their own ears only.
He pulled your eyes up to look at his, “Then what?” He asked.
You shook your head in confusion, “They all agreed.” You sighed. Why was he making you repeat what you heard.
He shook his head slowly, still holding your chin in his hands, “No love. She said you were sweet. That you were kind. She really likes you. Said she can’t wait for you to take her shopping.”
Well shit. How had you missed that? Your stitched your eyebrows together as you looked for any sign that he could’ve been fooling you. You couldn’t find a sign, “But then Bob said I wasn’t a blonde or talkative.” You repeated trying to justify your actions.
“Oh honey.” He laughed at the situation, not at you. He’d never dream about laughing at you, “You don’t know him well enough to know he was being sarcastic. He said that you were so fun to talk to, could hold an actual conversation.” He ran a hand down your arm trying to give you the reassurance you so clearly needed.
Shaking your head, you felt the nerves bubble back up. You definitely missed that, “I must’ve walked back inside.”
He wrapped you in another tight embrace. This one felt more necessary than the rest. He could feel how anxious you were. How saddened you looked at the thought of his friends not liking you. It warmed his heard at how much you wanted to be accepted by them. You knew how much they meant to him.
“Wish you would’ve stuck around.” He mumbled into your hair while rocking you back and forth ever so gently, “Even had Rooster singing your praises.”
You smiled as you finally started to believe him fully. He wouldn’t have lied to you like that, “Really?” You asked softly. You cheek was resting on his chest as he held you in his comfortable embrace.
“Yeah,” He chucked before pulling you closer into him, “I think they may ever like you more than me. I know Bradley does.”
Your heart swelled with all the love you felt for the man. He always knew what to say. He had a way with words that always left you feeling all the love, “Like that’s hard to do.”
He let out a full belly laugh now, “There she is. There’s my smart ass of a girl.”
“You like it.” You countered, pulling away from his strong hold on you.
He nodded, “I love it.”
You couldn’t help but to smile at that comment, “Noted.”
He hummed before dropping his arms from his hold on you, finally letting you squirm away, “Know what else I love?” He asked. He had a mischievous smirk dancing across his face.
Not having a clue what was coming next you innocently answered his question, “What’s that Jake?”
“You.”
A small gasp escaped your throat. Eyes widening and pupils surly dilated, you gave him nothing but a shocked stare, “What?” Finally squeaked out of your mouth after a few long moments.
“I love you.”
You gaped at him. Now of all times? Now?
“Jake! You dropped that bomb right now?” Your head was dizzy with thoughts. How could you face them again after he just did this to you.
He shrugged, “I think I’ve known for a while. They just helped me realize it.” One of the things you loved about him was the complete lack of pressure to respond to it. He didn’t expect it. He knew you took things slow. He was hardly offended. But he knew he loved you and he needed you to know it.
That was when it all clicked for you too. You loved him too. You loved him beyond your wildest measures. You don’t think you’d be able to live a life without him anymore. He’d changed you completely. Changed you whole.
Your eyes found his again. Yours scanned his pretty tanned face. He was smiling. Patient face on as he waited for your response. Your legs felt like jelly when your eyes finally locked with his, “I love you too.”
The smile that lit his face could make you happy for the rest of your life. God, you couldn’t wait to keep making him smile like that. You knew you were in trouble when he picked you right up in his arms kissing any part of you that he could get his mouth on and whispering sweet ‘I love you’s’ in between. The group be dammed.
Tumblr media
Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem
843 notes · View notes
justporo · 4 months
Text
Shooting Stars
A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.
MASTERLIST | AO3
Tumblr media
Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff
Wordcount: 2,9k
Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine
~~~
“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.
Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.
Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.
Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”
You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.
Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.
“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.
Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.
“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”
“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”
“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”
They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.
But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.
This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.
The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.
You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.
Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.
Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.
Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.
With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.
You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.
“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.
You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.
“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.
“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.
You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.
You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.
Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.
Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.
Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.
Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.
The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.
Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.
Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.
Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.
Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.
You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.
Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.
“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”
Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.
You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.
His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.
The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.
But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.
Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.
“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”
You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.
The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.
Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.
“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.
The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.
After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.
You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.
You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.
Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.
But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.
You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.
You could just spend eternity with moments like these.
Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.
Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.
Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.
The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.
Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.
The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.
Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.
But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.
He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.
Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna
471 notes · View notes
write4cench · 5 months
Text
kisses and braids.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you braid central cee’s hair, but he seems to be a bit too distracted.
pairs: girlfriendreader x boyfriendcee
genre: fluff + making out?
word count: 1.2k
a/n: idk about u but something about braiding a mans hair just does it for me. 😩
Tumblr media
“oakley, if you don’t stop moving i swear your braids won’t turn out right.” you complained as he leaned over to pick up something that he managed to drop on the floor, a smile only grew on his lips amused at your annoyance.
central cee and you were seated in the bedroom of your apartment as he found himself comfortable upon the floor, rested on a pillow within your legs whilst you were seated upon your bed.
it was a random time within the evening when the idea of braids came across his mind and of course he turned to you, pleading for you to braid his hair.
and now here you were, braiding his hair into cornrows and having been doing so for the past hour or so, only getting to about half of his head.
one thing about central cee is that he had a lot of hair, but for some reason despite your advice, he always decided to keep it underneath something.
“shit, does it have to be this tight?” he asks you as his tattooed hand comes to rest upon his newly braided hair, you giggled at his silliness.
“baby i’m sorry, but if you want them to look good for longer they can’t be loose.” you insist to him and he sighs, staring off towards the television in your room.
“i just wanna look good for my show this saturday.” he mumbles as he opens a packet of whatever it is that he decides to eat, eyes glued onto the screen.
you pick out a comb and part his head, pulling apart his hair as you do so. “you always look good, “ you start causing an adorable smile to grow on his lips, “why don’t you just keep your hair out once in a while?” you ask him.
he shrugs his shoulders, “i guess it’s too much work innit, at least now there’ll be something done to it.” he insists, implying towards the braids you do.
you pull off of his head and lean back checking out your job so far, unable to see the front you sigh. “can you like turn this way?” you ask him.
you tilt your head towards him to get a better view of the job you’ve done so far. the two of you make eye contact with one one another and a smile grows upon his lips.
“what’s funny?” you ask him confused, comb in other hand. he smiles brightly and adorably, “nah nothing, you just look cute when you’re focused.”
you roll your eyes upon hearing his words and it only makes him laugh, “shut up.” you mumble. “it’s real cute.” he continues.
the room fell quiet and you turned your focus back onto braiding as neat as you possibly could do so, you were on the final braid luckily so it wasn’t a hard job.
cench was too busy eating upon on the crisps within his hands as he found himself interested in whatever it was that he was watching, one thing about the two of you is although you might not talk a lot with each other, something about the quiet company is comforting.
his hand came to playfully hit against your leg in a rhythmic form, the sudden feeling wasn’t annoying but comforting knowing the way he would be playful with you.
“why are you hitting my leg now?” you ask him, slightly moving after each hit of his hand, he doesn’t stop instead continuing on not uttering an explanation causing you to let out a stressed sigh. "alright i guess you want to be annoying." you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
your hands focus on finish the braid, your hands interwinding his hair between one another as you approach the end, trying to finish it as fast as you possibly can, and when you do you sit back and glance at the finished product.
cench remains seated for a moment, filling his mouth, when he doesn't feel your hands on his hair he turns around to look towards you, eyes wide and hopeful, you beam.
"are we done?" he blinks and you nod your head, he exhales tired yet excitedly whilst you lean over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug from behind, he eases into your embrace.
"i'm tired." you yawn as you rest your hands for a short moment, "get some rest." you insists and you refuse, shaking you head.
as soon as you lean back he gets up from the floor, stretching for a short moment and you watch him do so. you take the chance to get up from the bed as well, standing beside him.
"wanna see how it looks?" you manage to say through a yawn, he only looks towards you with thankful eyes, pulling you into his arms.
you almost squeal at the sudden affection, his arms rest against your lower back as he holds you close, his eyes studying yours noticing how you pretend to wish to pull away from him.
"i asked you if you wanted to see your hair, not if you wanted to kiss me." you tell him and he tiredly laughs, arms still holding around onto you. "i don't care, why can't i be close with my girl?"
his head comes to teasingly rest against your shoulder and you giggle as you find a comfort in wrapping your arms over his own, you feel him pecker a few lips onto your skin and since your ticklish a few laughs manage escape through your lips.
"stop." you manage to say through your laughter a hand gently holding onto your head, but he only continues holding you close, you feel his lips form a grin against the skin of your neck.
as soon as he pulls apart you meet eye contact once again, you don't utter a word instead your smile lingers upon your lips and one mirrors upon his own. you lean in, your lips meeting his and he doesn't hesitate to kiss you back.
you kiss one another a passionate moment, enjoying the feeling. the sound of your lips against one another sounds throughout the silence and the comfort of your bedroom. you forget about everything, instead you're focused about spending this moment with the man who you truly love.
you pull away from the kiss when you feel it begin to grow a little too heated, feeling the tingles and sparks that flow throughout your body. playfully you push him away from you, his arms widen and his mouth drops jokingly confused yet enjoying the act.
"we need to stop there." you tell him warningly, it almost as if he knows the affect you have on him since he doesn't complain and you know that he knows.
"alright." he simply says.
nothing but love fills his eyes and it's almost as if you always catch yourself smiling whenever you're with him. "i love you." you say.
he remains quiet for a good moment, realising he's about to catch himself saying something he never thought he would, you watch him expectantly watching how his lips agape to utter the words, just when he's about to he buries his head into his hands.
"i love you too."
678 notes · View notes
avidfics · 4 months
Text
Moving On
summary: Soccer player abby finds out you're going on a date and is unhappy about it.
warnings: possessive abby; slightly mean; fluff; some suggestive content; kissing; thighs
a/n: happy new year! this is me manifesting a buff woman for 2024
abby let out a grunt as she pushed past a defensive player. There were only a few minutes left of soccer practice but she still had the energy to continue for another hour. Her team was in a good groove, the sun was out, and her girl was stopping by to chat after practice. She took a split second to squint against the sun to scan the crowd of spectators, and a wide smile broke across her face when she saw you, her girl, watching the practice by your parked car. 
She might’ve begun going all out now that she knew you were watching. In the last minute, she helped her team gain another point. “Damn, Abby.” One of her teammates gave a sly look. “Trying to show off for your girlfriend or something?” The rest of her teammates laughed along. They knew you and abby weren’t technically an item, but everyone knew abby had claimed you and she didn’t see a need to correct them. “Nah, no showing off is necessary. My girl already knows I’m the best player on the field.” Her team playfully booed her off the field, as she grabbed her gear and jogged over to where you sat overlooking the field on the back of your pickup truck. 
abby didn’t know if she was an ass or tits person, but when it came to you, she loved whatever piece of skin you showed for that day. And today? You wore skimpy gym shorts that had magically crawled up higher on your legs because of your seated position. The damn shorts were so tiny it exposed the flesh at the top of your thighs. She licked her lips as she desperately tried not to imagine taking the fat of your thighs in her rough hands and squeezing them, kissing them to discover any sensitive spots. 
Luckily you hopped off the truck bed to greet her and she didn’t have to be distracted by the thought of plush thighs. “Great practice, abs!” You threw both arms around her bulky form in a hug and abby took full advantage, circling your waist and spinning you around. Her core tightened when your giggle sang out. 
“Get a room!” The playful jeer is called out by her approaching teammates. “Y/N if you’re unsatisfied by abby and ever want to try another soccer player you just let us know.” You laugh at their exaggerated wink, not seeing abby shoot a hard look at her friends.
Without saying anything, she slings her arm over your shoulder, curling her body into yours in a possessive hold. Your checks flame at the intimate attention. “Please, we’re just friends. She gets enough attention from her fan club.” Even as you try to deny what’s obvious to everyone else, abby’s other hand starts to play with you in little ways that make your thoughts scramble, playing with the hoop of your earring, tugging on a piece of your hair, leaning her head against your head as if suddenly very tired. 
You clear your throat and hope no one hears how loud your heart is beating. If it beated any faster you’d need an ambulance. “Actually, please wish me luck, I have a date tonight.”
The silence from the once rowdy group is deafening. Scarier is abby’s sudden frozen movements. 
A timid “Congrats” from a teammate is sharply interrupted by the jarring laughter coming from abby. Her once warm presence leaves your side to pace in front of you. Her restless hands running over her ponytail, taking it down, and creating a tumble of hair onto her broad shoulders. “Is this a joke? Because you’ve been funnier.”
You straighten at the outlaudish way she’s questioning your approaching date. “This might be a shock but some people actually consider me desirable and want to date me.” For months you’d sent hints of your desiree for more to abby and in response she’d continue to keep you at arms length. The rejection, combined with the countless girls she actually did fuck, had finally pushed you to your limit so when a girl from another college asked you out, you gave in and said yes. 
Her teammates left the escalating sitation in a noiseless retreat. Leaving only you, with wobbling knees, and a very pissed off team captain.
“People?” Narrow eyes make you advert your eyes. “You got a whole roster of people fucking you that I don’t know about?” Before you could stop you pushed at her chest, eyes wide in outrage. 
The rebuff seemed to clear abby’s mind because an apology immediately floods out her mouth and she takes several deep breaths to clear her red vision. 
Her kinder expression and domineering approaching steps causes you to retreat till your back is flush against your truck. abby’s entire frame blocks you in but she only give an impish smile as she takes both your hands within her grip, playfully yanking them behind her back. “Obviously I know you’re hot as fuck. That’s why I’m so concerned. Just tell me their name and I’d feel alot better about letting you go.”
Like you’d fall for that.
A small chuckle falls from your lips as you pull your hands away and scoot from under abby to get into your car. “abby you’re not ‘letting’ me go anywhere. I’m grown and your not getting their name to cyber stalk them. This is my date and what I decide to do with whoever is none of your concern.” 
As you settled into the driver seat, abby began to panic as the feeling of control slipped out of her hands. She stopped the door before you fully closed it and yanked it back open. “Let me at least drive you to the restaurant.” she pleaded.
“None of your concern.” you sang as you moved to push her out the way. But before you could, a hard hand gripped the back of your neck and roughly brought your lips to hers. The shock kept you still as a statue but abby didn’t seem to mind as she took charge and sensuously moved her lips against yours. You could taste the remaining sweat from practice on her lips. Before pulling away she gave a quick swipe of her tongue against your bottom lip and gave a final goodbye peak to your still wet bottom lip. “You’ll always be my concern. Good luck on your date.”
608 notes · View notes
p1utofairy · 5 months
Text
PICK A CARD
Tumblr media
“kissin’ and hope they caught us.”
what will a night out with your future partner be like?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. this is my early thanksgiving gift to y’all 💗 i’m so thankful for the constant support and feedback idk how many times i can say it lol but thank you. enjoy and have a great holiday!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PILE i.
Tumblr media
i can see you two in a club/party setting. the music is so loud it's pulsing through your veins, it's not usually your scene, but your person is right by your side holding you close. their hand is resting slightly on your back/waist guiding you through the crowd — i feel like they'll smell really good too they have a distinct fragrance on that's comforting to you. i feel like you'll be so giddy and excited to be outside with them and be seen together. lots of heads will turn for sure. i feel like y'all are a power couple…like looking at you two walking in together just makes sense but it also triggers jealousy and disbelief in other people? you and your person may come from different backgrounds or have different aesthetics but y’all pair together very well. they’re gonna be looking so smug lollll your person is the silent but confident type, like having you on their arm will shut everybody up and they’ll love it. this person could be very popular or well-known in their profession…i'm getting a serena van der woodsen type of vibe so people can definitely be infatuated with them. you might not even like dancing but you will with them! you're gonna be on cloud 9 the whole night, pile 1. some of you might not smoke or drink but you’ll feel high/drunk off them the entire night it’s so cute! u are my high by dj snake and future vibes for sure.
PILE ii.
Tumblr media
the atmosphere is sensual af, pile 2. it's giving the vibe of a private dinner at an upscale restaurant/bar or hotel. your person planned this out very meticulously, and they managed to pull it off without you knowing too many details. you’ll be so happy to be sitting across from them and enjoying their company — i feel like you both don't always have the time to just sit and unwind because you both have very demanding jobs/schedules. i see you two flirting a lot with your eyes and smiling so big…the energy is very warm and playful. the sexual tension will be very thick between the two of you lol they might make comments throughout the night about how good you look. the lighting seems very dim and red seems to be the major theme so you could be wearing a red dress, they might give you a bouquet of red roses, their shirt might be red — idk it's something along those lines lol the color red is just significant for some reason. the food, their company, and the ambiance will be 100000/10 and the night won't stop there 😮‍💨 cause when they get you back home? soon as i get home by faith evans just came to mind LOL yeah they’re going to want to make up for lost time and please you in any and every way that they can. OKAYYY PILE 222.
PILE iii.
Tumblr media
ah this is my introverted pile! i don't think you get out much, pile 3. if you do it's usually because someone begged you to come out and socialize or you pushed yourself to go. you like having your own space and privacy, and sometimes it's a bit overwhelming having to constantly socialize and be around a whole bunch of people that may not mesh with you. i think that your person will be receptive to this, and will take baby steps to get you out of your shell. they’d take you somewhere where you can relax and be comfortable like a drive-in movie theater or maybe somewhere in nature…it's somewhere you both can be alone and in your own bubble tuning out the rest of the world. i can see them holding you close and you’re leaned back against them just so content and reveling in the precious moment. it’s a night you’ll never forget because you’ll realize just how much they mean to you, and how far you’ve come in this connection. it's reminding me of that picture of ariana grande and mac miller at coachella. so so cute.
Tumblr media
PILE IV.
Tumblr media
y'all are that cute couple that ride for each other, okay!!! y'all will be so in loveeeeeee my GOSH the passion and desire will be so heavy and evident between you two. lana and asap rocky in the ‘national anthem’ music video vibes — it's like that bad boy meets good girl trope. i feel like this person would want to take you places you’ve never been before…they’d want to get all dressed up in fancy clothes and go out on the town with you. there'd be multiple activities in one night. omg they're so spontaneous it'd feel never-ending! you two will be so giddy around each other lol always cracking jokes and laughing about any and everything. i don’t think that it matters where they take you per se, pile 4. you will have the time of your life regardless. they just know how to light up every room that they walk in and ensure that everyone is having a good time! it's so cute and refreshing, ugh. they're going to really sweep you off your feet. they might have a really nice car and you’ll love being a ✨passenger princess✨ LMFAO they might tease you about it too. this person will be your best friend just as much as they are your true love.
927 notes · View notes
partycatty · 4 months
Note
Do you write for other characters like bi han or tomas?
i do! i'm just mentally ill over johnny LOL
lin kuei trio > caught
the boys can't keep their eyes off of you! what're you gonna do about it?!
warnings: idk nothing much tbh, i guess a little nsfw at the end of smoke's part but nothing crazy, controversial bi-han take? kuai favoritism <3 & google translate
notes: pretend that bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen for his part. i rewrote this twice bc i kept accidentally clicking on notifs and forgetting to save. third time's the charm :3 also pls admire that i specifically made gifs of each man making eye contact w you teehee
masterlist <3
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
bi-han >
•let me preface this by saying i heavily disagree with the headcanons of most of his fics. this man is ASS at verbalizing affection, and probably wants a trad wife to serve him. he won't call you "princess" or "doll," and PDA is not his strong suit. he'll love you of course, he just wouldn't show it with flowers and cuddles.
•that being said, all he could do was eye you down as you opened the front door, coming face to face with him, his brother kuai liang, and the fire god liu kang. your jaw opened and closed rapidly, trying to make sense of the two ninjas and man with glowing eyes.
•"uhh, there's no hunky ninja-themed bachelorette party here tonight," you say, raising an eyebrow. "try two houses down. lord knows they're a couple of freaks—" before you could close the door on them, bi-han reaches forward and sticks his foot in the door. liu kang, the primary voice of reason and supposed leader of the situation, asks to enter your home. you don't feel like you're in a position to decline.
•kuai liang wanders your living room, tracing his finger across your shelves and leaning in to inspect your paintings. liu kang stands in front of you, giving you the whole "earthrealm, fire god, tournament, chosen one" spiel, we all know how it goes. but you're struggling to focus, struggling pretty hard actually, because bi-han is literally standing like a statue at your kitchen island a few feet away, his icy glare seemingly stabbing through your skull. perhaps he's just intimidating you into an agreement. it works.
•you really hope that bi-han's staring ends there, but you are a damn fool.
•you train alongside the other recruited earthrealmers, taking a short break when you see a now-familiar trio stroll through the training grounds. yellow, grey... and blue. and even though their destination seems well past your location, bi-han literally could not tear his eyes away from you as you sat under the tree as you try to relieve yourself of the ruthless heat of the sun. he drinks in your damp form, and the way your hair sticks sweetly to your forehead. that is, until kuai liang gives him an obvious playful jab to his side, making bi-han snap forward and continue to lead his brothers, not before shooting him a nasty look. icy frost is noticeable on his fists as he clenches them.
•are you losing your mind? why the hell is the grandmaster of the lin kuei eating you alive with his eyes alone? you try to confide in your earthrealm partners, but raiden shrugs, kenshi's at a loss for words, and kung lao and johnny just laugh boisterously at your oblivious nature.
•finally, you're accompanying the lin kuei trio as they wait for instruction from liu kang regarding the soul stealing beacons. smoke and scorpion sit on the bench while sub-zero paces endlessly. each time he faces your way, he locks eyes with you. what is this guy's deal? it literally looks like he wants to skin you alive.
•kung lao and raiden permit them to enter liu kang's meeting room, and bi-han immediately struts off with a noticeable tinge of pink on his face. as the other two follow, you stop and grab kuai liang's shoulder gently, making him face you with surprised eyes.
•"pardon my hindrance, scorpion," you say with a quick bow. "but your grandmaster has been eyeing me down since as long as i've known him. is... is there something i did? something he is displeased with? i find it quite unnerving."
•kuai liang's face freezes, and then very clearly fights a shit-eating smirk. it's not typical for him to be as amused as he is now, but how could he resist when he could literally see what was going on? he chuckles for a moment.
•"bi-han thinks you'd make a good wife," kuai liang replies, a smile tugging at his lips. "please forgive his harsh expression. he couldn't shake it if he tried."
•with that, bi-han's younger brother turns on his heel and enters the mission debrief, leaving you beet red and suddenly completely understanding the signs after the fact.
•when the trio returns successful, you stop noticing his eye contact, because you're too embarrassed to even glance in his general direction. doesn't stop him, though.
Tumblr media
smoke >
•you were an initiate of the shirai ryu following its formation. disgusted by the betrayal of your former grandmaster, tomas and kuai liang beckoned you to carry on a new oath in a new chapter of the close-knit clan. you had not seen them much prior to this, but they didn't think to question your dedication.
•since reforming the clan and being given a higher position rather than a lowly grunt, your uniform changed. the once all-black, full-body uniform became something you could design. you opted for something a little more... breathable. think mk11 mileena.
•shut up i know ninja uniforms are like that for a reason just bear with me
•you decide to debut said outfit at a meeting over tea, strutting in and taking your seat with grace. tomas nearly chokes on his damn tea, a single puff of smoke shooting from his lips as he coughs. he wishes he had his mask on right about now, so he could conceal his reddening cheeks. you, his brother, and harumi look at him with partially perplexed, partially amused glances before moving on, hoping to save smoke from the embarrassment of being confronted.
•every time you leaned forward to point at the map centered on the table, tomas's eyes were glued to you. this poor man doesn't know what to do with himself when you're just so pretty! taking a gentle sip of your tea as kuai liang asks tomas about the new recruit, that hasashi boy, you glance up past the cup and realize tomas is quite literally giving you heart eyes, completely entranced. you chuckle to yourself. it is quite cute when he looks at you like that, lips parted and eyes gentle.
•"grandmaster," you say calmly, turning toward the pyromancer. "it seems your second-in-command missed your question. would you mind repeating yourself?" as you ask, tomas seemingly snaps out of it and tries to conceal his devious thoughts, putting his palm over his mouth and leaning on his elbow on the table.
•kuai liang groans to himself before repeating the question, one that tomas answers quickly and a little anxiously. he flashes you a sheepish smile. harumi giggles and look at the two of you knowingly.
•a long evening of training kicked your ass, and you decided you deserved a good rest in the nearby hot springs. fully confirming you're alone in the moonlight, you strip of your uniform and dip into the hot water. your tense muscles unravel at the warmth and you let out a pleased moan at the relief. the water reaches just above your breasts and you're about to lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the comfort of the water encapsulate you.
•that is, until you see a faint trail of smoke creep out from behind you and dip into the water around you. you smile knowingly, not even bothering to turn around.
•"tomas," you say, a hint of playful displeasure in your tone. "for a ninja, your stealth skills are starting to fall apart."
•your trained ears hear him freeze completely and let out a little gasp. tomas slips out a curse in his native language. now it's time to toy with your food.
•still in the water, you spin around and prop yourself up against the ledge of the hot springs, looking up at him seductively. tomas breaks from his deer in headlights pose and faces you, looking down and trying so incredibly hard to remain focused on your eyes, but it's just so hard when your breasts are right—
•"i've seen the way you look at me," you confess in a sultry voice. "i'm not a blind fool. it's incessant."
•"i-i didn't think you were," tomas stammers out, crouching down to be more eye level with you. "i meant no offense, you're just so... so—"
•"none taken," you chuckle, tilting your head. "were you going to be a peeping tom, or join me, then?"
Tumblr media
kuai liang >
•since being recruited for earthrealm's part in the tournament, kuai liang has paid more visits than probably necessary to run into you during your months of training.
•he'd be all like "omg heeeey what are youuuu doing hereeee" knowing damn well of your schedule (i'm lying i'm just in love with this yummy little s'more).
•though he would get into the habit of taking late night strolls around the wu shi academy to clear his mind. it was happenstance that you enjoyed the same habit.
•this man is huge and hunky, giving you comfort and safety as you navigate the moonlit paths of the land. he finds you to be a sweet conversation partner, carrying yourself with elegance and kindness that perfectly compliments his humble, noble spirit. you speak of a passion to fight for what is right, so focused on speaking and gesturing that you don't even realize kuai liang is staring down at you with utmost admiration. his heart warms (more than usual) at what a catch you are — for the tournament...!
•"tell me, scorpion," you speak up, looking up at him with eyes that could melt. "are you the only of your family to harness the power of fire?"
•"it is a long running ability in my family," kuai liang replies, confidently but with a gentle tone. "the methods in which we harness this power are a well-kept secret."
•"even so, scorpions don't burn," you reply quickly with an amused tone, grinning up at the man. you realize he was already looking down at you with a mirrored smile. "what makes you a scorpion?"
•"my strength and sting," he says as if he were reading a script. then again, he's probably been asked this hundreds of times. his brothers were icy sub-zero and hazy smoke, his name didn't exactly fit the narrative.
•as you part your lips to continue your conversation, a gust of wind makes you shiver and you let out a little gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. kuai remains unfazed but takes note of your chilliness.
•"are you alright, xiǎo huǒhuā?" he asks with a hint of uncharacteristic concern. your face warms momentarily at the nickname, only to be reminded of the bitter cold with another gust of wind. it wasn't the first time he said that unfamiliar phrase, but you just never thought to ask about it. reflecting on it now, you're realizing it's a pet name. you rub your arms.
•"just... cold," you reply with a trembling lip. "times like these i wish i had your power." for the first time in a while, kuai liang breaks his gaze from you and looks down at his hands, debating whether or not to speak up. he didn't want to push any boundaries with you, as he genuinely enjoyed your presence. still, he decided he's only got one shot.
•"it's a power i'm willing to share," he replies lowly, sticking his hands out palms-up. you look up at him, hesitant about his offer. another gust of wind, harsher this time, pushes on your back and pulls you toward him. you catch yourself on his hands. they're so warm and inviting. they're not necessarily soft, but they feel comforting and... god, so warm. as you sigh with relief, you look up again and realize that, just like every time beforehand, kuai liang was looking down at you with a soft smile. he was just always warm as a pyromancer, heat creeping through his skin no matter the weather.
•you two had successfully broken the barrier of touch, and you continue to walk down the path. kuai holds both of your hands in one of his, the other wrapped around your shoulder and rubbing up and down your arm to keep you from being too chilly. it's a sweet embrace, one that neither of you want to fully unpack yet, but it's a step nonetheless.
•"why is it that every time i look at you, you're already looking at me?" you ask quietly, enamored by his embrace. kuai tenses up momentarily, feeling a little sheepish at the direct confrontation. he soon relaxes after finding the right words.
•"because you're beautiful, xiǎo huǒhuā," he replies gently, squeezing your arm and hands tenderly.
•"what does that word mean?" you ask, face flushed and entire body no longer concerned over the cold.
•"...little spark."
•and so, you two continue to walk down the path in the moonlight, now in his comforting, toasty embrace.
691 notes · View notes
slvttyplum · 4 months
Note
i agree with you and now i am an undercover slut nanami enthusiast pls do more 👍🏻
𐙚 happy anniversary | nanami kento
synopsis: your body has nanami worked up, so why not take responsibility
contents: lowercase spelling, shower sex, unprotected sex, breeding, smut.
“can you stop staring at my tits?” you say adjusting your shorts and smiling for the picture nanami was taking.
clearing his throat, he presses the button a couple of times, and you switch poses.
“how can i when you’re wearing something like that, hm?” his finger clicked the button again. you were beautiful.
“well, don’t make it obvious.” you mutter, walking over to him, placing a hand on his back as you lean in.
he leans down a little, pushing the camera out to show you, humming as you move your finger over and click to see every pic.
they were decent, but you had all week to take pics. nanami’s eyes gloss over your face, down to your chest, then your breast. how well they held up in your bikini top.
“did you hear me?” you say, walking in front and hugging him, the wind hitting the both of you as the sounds of the waves clash against the sand.
“no, honey, what’d you say?” his hand coming up to your face and caressing your warm cheek with his thumb.
today was your three-year anniversary with nanami, your older boyfriend that you loved so much. he surprised you with a trip to the beach.
“i wanna eat; we’ve been here for a while.” you mumble into his chest.
which was true; it was 4 p.m. going on 5 and it was only getting hotter; wasn’t the sun supposed to set by this time?
nanami leans down, giving the top of your head a kiss as his hands slide down to your ass.
“you haven’t even gotten in the water yet.” his eyes were scanning over the view of the clear skies and trees.
“i don’t feel like it.” your eyes flicking up at his, who is looking down at you, his eyes being covered by the dark glasses.
“go in for me; i want you to enjoy this.” his voice soft and his hands rubbing over your ass, leaning down, and giving you a peck on the cheek.
it was sweet; he wanted you to enjoy this, so why not go in the water for him?
nanami on the other hand, didn’t have pure intentions. he saw how your body looked in that bathing suit this morning, your skin glistening from the oil and sunscreen.
your ass poking through your shorts and your tits were almost falling out of your top; he wanted to see it all.
“alright.” you back away and grab his hand as you walk to the shore. once you’re close enough, you slide off your shoes and give them to him.
he simply smiles, sliding them under his arm and picking up his camera, clicking.
you unbutton and slip off your shorts, the cloth falling to your feet, and you walk in, the cold water hitting you like a brick.
“shit…” you mumble, continuing to walk down. nanami doesn’t take his eyes off you; your natural walk of your hips is swaying, sending a tingle to his dick.
he clicks the button on the camera again as you walk deeper.
you’re waist deep, and you turn to face him, a smile on your face when you see him taking pictures.
you wave and send him a flying kiss, a blush scattering across his cheeks.
nanami continues to click the camera as you pose and play in the water. you were beautiful and playful.
so why the fuck was he hard? he wasn’t sure if he could even hide it. he walks closer to the shore where your shorts are and picks them up.
subtly putting them between his legs and holding them, hoping it hides his bulge.
a couple of minutes go by, and you walk out of the water, your face wet and everywhere on you soaking.
he glosses over your face straight to your tits and his dick twitches; time couldn’t wait, and neither could you.
it was time to go.
he reaches his arm out and swipes over your wet face, his thumb sliding over to your lips and softly rubbing them.
“i’m sure you’re hungry; let’s go. we can order room service, yeah?” his voice a little deeper than before.
you nod, smiling, looking down, and noticing your shorts and nanami’s slight bulge. you laugh to yourself, not thinking much of it.
after a wet drive to the hotel you both were staying in, you quickly ran into the bathroom with no second thought.
you couldn’t stand that scratchy, moist sensation that sat on top of your skin.
while you washed and got yourself together, nanami ordered room service and quietly slipped into the bathroom.
his length twitching when he smells your body wash, your silhouette pushing against the shower doors.
he wanted to so desperately wait until after the both of you washed up to have that intimacy in bed, but his dick was hurting, especially with you turning him on without realizing it.
a few seconds passed as he thought about whether to get in or not. the devil on his shoulder convinced him.
he slowly strips off his clothes and opens the door to the shower. you flip your head quickly, and the sound of the door opening startles you.
“hi stranger, what are you doing?” you say, grinning, your eyes sliding down to his big bulge standing up.
saying nothing he gets in, his body pressed against yours and his length pressed against your ass.
he leans against you some more, reaching in front of you and grabbing the body wash from your hands.
pouring it on your shoulder and watching it slide down your back and to your ass.
“i love you.” he leans down, whispering. his warm breath hits your ear as he kisses your cheek.
“i love you too; thank you for this.” you say, smiling, your hands tracing over your arm, foaming up the body wash.
his hands traced over the side of your body as you shivered from his touch. he still made you nervous with every single touch.
his cold ring sent more shivers throughout your body. he was quiet, which scared you.
slipping his hand to the front, he slides it over your stomach, then slowly to your breast, gently groping, his other hand following.
he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he gropes them a little tighter, a light moan escaping your lips.
“it’s a little tight; you don’t want to wait until we dry off?” your voice was quiet in a whisper, and his hands caressing and touching aroused you.
he shakes his head and rubs his lower half against you. he slides his hand down to your stomach, then in between your legs.
“i’ve been waiting all day; i can’t wait any longer.” desperation laced in his voice, his big finger sliding over your slit.
you lightly throw your head back, resting on his shoulder, as he continues to tease your slit.
your hand comes up to the hand he has groping and playing with your breast, and the other goes behind you, touching his length.
a tiny moan slipping out past him. he leans closer to you, kissing your jaw and then your neck.
you extend your neck to give him more access. his tongue sliding out and trailing over your sensitive spot, his fingers finally slipping inside your lips, pressing on your clit.
your hand grips his length and slowly starts pumping him; he’s not shy, not in the slightest. he moans as he sucks on your neck.
the sweet taste of your skin melting into his mouth as your hand gently pumps you full.
he wanted to wait so bad, give you that romance, touch you, and whisper sweet nothings, but not right now.
the full week was ahead of you guys; he could do that tomorrow or the next day, but right now, he was being selfish.
“spread your legs more," he whispers into your ear, his finger slipping inside your wet cunt and causing you to lightly gasp.
you slowly slide your leg over, trying not to fall in the small, closed vicinity. his leg slides in the middle of you, pushing your foot over; his other leg does the same.
he slides his finger in and out a couple of times before he slips his hand in front of him, gently pushing your hand off and gripping his length.
you reach for the silver bar in front, gripping tight, the pressure filling your knuckles, and your other hand is still gripping his hand.
he gently and quickly lines himself up with you and slides himself in, inch by inch. he takes his hand and slides it up to your neck.
giving it a light squeeze as he presses a kiss to your temple before thrusting into you with full force, your jaw clenching.
you close your eyes, and your toes curl as he thrusts into you again, pressing into your sensitive spot.
his fingers on your breast slide down to your nipple, squeezing and pinching. you begin to moan but stop when nanami’s fingers come up to your soft lips and slide them in your mouth.
you swirl your tongue around them and suck as he thrusts into you again, his dick pulsing inside you.
a quiet whimper sliding out past your lips. it was a lot of pressure; it felt like a ball of pleasure was being bounced against your heat.
his desire for you was deep. the way he slammed his hips into you, flesh bouncing off each other, your eyes opening halfway from the pleasure, sent butterflies up his spine.
“i love you… so much.” he grunted, slamming into you again, your back arching and your body slumping over.
nanami’s hand slides down your neck to your stomach, accidentally pressing down your jolt, your eyes getting teary.
“wait! not there!” you whine out, and his eyebrow furrows when he thinks he’s hurting you, but that’s not the case.
gently pressing down again on your stomach, you squirm, and your eyes squint.
“i said no!” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his hand, but he doesn’t budge.
he leans down, kissing your neck and pressing down on your stomach while pounding into you again.
“but you like it.. see?” he says to press again, sliding out, then back in with full pressure.
tears well in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pressure, a big knot forming in the pit of your stomach.
his fingers are working on your breast, and his tongue slides over the same sensitive spot.
it was surprising you were holding out for so long; if he had you spread across the bed, you would’ve tapped out by now.
“you’re doing so well today," he whispers against your skin, like he was reading your mind.
your teeth grind from the words, the knot almost dropping, but you slightly suck your stomach in.
“no… let it out, please, baby.” he moans against you as he pounds and twitches inside you and presses against your stomach.
“nanami! st… stop!” you moan out, but the knot has already dropped, your body is twitching and your back is arching more, the grip on the bar is loosening, your eyes are rolling, and a lump is getting caught in your throat.
the squeeze you had around his cock pushing his tip, forcing him to release, his face pushes against your neck as he pushes down on your stomach again.
your hand slides down to where his hand was pushing, and you try to push it off, but his grip is tight.
the pounding in your head projecting through your ears was sending you for a swirl; the only thing you could hear was the water hitting against the shower floor.
“you did good for me; i love you.” he whispers close to your ear, his feet sliding from your feet, both his arms wrapping around your waist.
your cheeks automatically flushed from these words before you could even process them, and you blinked a few times to get the white spots out of your eyes.
“i’ll clean you up," he whispers, grabbing the washcloth from the top of the shower and sliding it over your thighs.
“i love you," you say loud enough for him to hear. he reaches out, cupping your jaw and placing a kiss on your lips.
a wonderful ending to an anniversary, don’t you think?
496 notes · View notes