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#i'm looking forward to your comeback. :)
wavesofenthusiasm · 1 year
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| Ella and Satbyeol are Still with me
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario
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warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.
There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.
As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.
PART TWO
Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.  
If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.
So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her. 
Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point. 
This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.
And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all. 
Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.
A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you. 
In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head. 
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.” 
Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?” 
You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”
“Then why -”
“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.” 
His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel. 
“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything. 
Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.
“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!” 
Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man. 
But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful  sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.
 If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out. 
You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners. 
Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her. 
You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its  publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse. 
When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room. 
You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number. 
“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you. 
“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised. 
“Sir -” You began. 
“Yulian, please.” 
“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.” 
You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…
“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.” 
You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?” 
He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”
“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged  on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.
“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.
Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time. 
He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home. 
As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes. 
It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped. 
She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right? 
The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment. 
“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room. 
“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley. 
Her reaction was….amusing. 
After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good. 
Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too. 
But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all. 
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@faesdreaming
@faux-ecrivain
@majestichugs
@abelheilonwife
@suiana
@lxdymoon0357
@dxmoness
@tired-of-life-86
@imperfectbloodmoon
@lovely-nightmares
@yandere-dark-cupid
@beardedblizzardexpert
@d10nsaint
@likesugarandcyanide
@justcressida
@mooly-artistic
@cassanderasblog
@swallowtailcherry
@amidst-the-tempest
@usernames-are-so-hard-to-create
@navierkalani
@yanderefangirl
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
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yxngbxkkie · 6 months
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comfort (s.c)
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i saw a tik tok where it looked like changbinnie was getting ignored, and it absolutely broke my heart 😭 so, to fix it, i wrote this cute fic 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
~
You hook a leg under your thigh as you continue to scroll through tik tok. You smile at the edits people have made of Changbin, your boyfriend of three years. You giggle at how adorable he is, double tapping the video to like it.
The door to your shared apartment opens, causing you to lift your head. Changbin walks through the door, dropping the bag in his hands. A frown instantly comes to your lips as he doesn't greet you.
He walks past you, going down the short hallway before heading into the bedroom. You lock your phone, setting it on the arm of the couch.
“Bin?” You gently call out his name, lifting yourself from the couch.
You peek into your bedroom, seeing Changbin sitting on the edge of your bed. He scrolls through his phone, aimlessly scrolling through Twitter.
“Baby?” You whisper the pet name, hoping he heard you.
He doesn't look in your direction, seeming pretty focused on the tweets. You release a quiet sigh, stepping towards him before sinking to your knees.
You rest your hands against his meaty thighs, gently rubbing the clothed muscle. “Did something happen?” You question him.
His dark eyes finally meet yours, and you can see the unshed tears in them. You whisper, “oh, honey,” before moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“I don't get it,” he mumbles into your neck, feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. You rub his back gently as Changbin circles his arm around your waist. “I do everything for them. Why don't they love me as much as I love them?”
“Stay loves you, Bin,” you reassure him while combing your fingers through his hair. “Just before you got home, I saw so many edits of you.”
Changbin lifts his head, his eyes turning red from him crying. You give him a soft smile, wiping the excess tears. “Did you really?” He asks in a tiny voice, moving his hands to your outer thighs.
You nod your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “Absolutely, Binnie. I've seen a lot of Stays simp for you, baby,” you tell him truthfully, doing your best to make him feel better.
He doesn't say anything, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Tonight,” Changbin starts but instantly pauses, taking a deep breath. “We did the pre-recording for our comeback. As we were leaving, I waved and said goodbye, but as soon as Jeongin came, everyone was screaming. I just don't get why they don't scream for me. Am I that bad?”
“Baby, no,” you lift his head, making him look at you. “You're not bad at all. You're so loved by so many people, I promise you.”
Changbin sniffles and nods his head. “I love you,” he whispers, returning his gaze to you.
You give him a toothy grin, dipping your head down to capture his lips with yours. “Just remember that you're so loved. Not only by your members, but by true Stays,” you remind him after pulling away. “And me, of course.”
A smile comes to his lips, the first one you've seen tonight. You stroke his cheeks, pinching them softly. “I'm so grateful for you, baby,” he sighs, leaning forward to rest his head against your stomach.
“I love you so much, Seo Changbin,” you sigh into his hair, placing a couple of quick kisses to the top of his head. “My strong and talented baby.”
The two of you stay connected for almost ten minutes. One of your hands glides up and down his back while the other plays with his black hair.
“Did you eat?” Changbin asks, pulling back to look at you.
“I was waiting for you,” you tell him with a giggle. You shift in his arms, plopping yourself onto his lap. “I figured we could order something and cuddle on the couch.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, releasing a hum. “I like the sound of that. Can we order my favorite?” Changbin asks, squeezing your body against his.
“Of course, baby,” you giggle, slipping a hand underneath the back of his shirt. “We can get whatever you want!”
Changbin grows excited and lifts himself off of the bed, carrying you in his buff arms. “I got so lucky with you,” he almost squeals, pressing chaste kisses to your cheek while heading into the living room.
“You say that, but I think I'm the one lucky one,” you laugh, kissing his cheek.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
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luveline · 8 months
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I LOVE YOUR WRITING IT'S SO ASDFJKFTICDHBDIGDGXSJOHCBCFG
so I wanted to request Sirius x reader where the reader is on veritaserum and has a banter/ tongue in cheek sorta relationship with Sirius. And then when she's on the truth serum she has to hold back witty comebacks because when she opens her mouth all she keeps saying is how disgustingly cute Sirius looks when he smiles, and how she just wants to snog his face off PLEASE IF YOU CAN 👉👈 🥺
REMINDER: YOU'RE AMAZING AND I'M HAPPY AND PROUD OF YOUR SERVICE TO THE FANFIC COMMUNITY
thank you ♡ —you can't hide the truth from sirius, and he doesn't want to try. 1.3k
cw spiked drink
"Why would someone put veritaserum in the pimms?" you ask James meekly. 
"Shortcake, I'm really not sure. Don't get upset about it, alright? Remus is going to tear them all a new one." He squeezes you by the shoulders. "Don't worry, Jamie's here." 
"You're very handsome, but I don't fancy you. Much." 
James smiles. "Good to know, lovely. I don't fancy you much either. I'll assume you're saving yourself for our mutual dark-haired friend and I shan't be offended." 
You slap a hand over your mouth and shake your head, but the truth comes out muffled into your palm anyways. "I really like him," you say, eyes wide with terror, "I don't want anyone else. Oh, James! You're such a dick!" 
"Do you mean that, or are you just angry with me?" James asks, helping you out into the garden away from the party and your peers, who can't be trusted to leave you alone when you're set to tell them any secret they want. 
"Both!" 
"What's wrong?" Sirius asks. 
Your neck almost snaps as you look up. James swears, trying to save it as your body instinctively answers. "Someone's spiked our girl," James says extremely loudly to mask your more honest confession, "I'm worried I'm going to tell you I like you," you say. 
Sirius, sitting on a low garden wall with a packet of cigarettes in his hand, is puzzled. "What?" 
"Someone's put veritaserum in her drink. Maybe in the pitcher. I've brought her outside so she doesn't accidentally tell everyone she's in love with me."
Sirius grins. "Don't be daft, Prongs, she's clearly team Black. Aren't you, sweetheart?" 
"You're the prettiest of your trio," you say, sincerity like a blade at the back of your throat, aching, "I'm definitely on your team." 
James squeezes your shoulder and helps you into a garden chair, the metal cool against your back. "I'll forgive you because I know you can't help it, and because I know you're dying of embarrassment," he murmurs. 
"Thank you. I love you." 
"I love you too, shortcake," James says easily, kicking out a chair for Sirius and flopping into his beside you. "Aren't feeling ill, are you?" 
"Just terrified I'll say something too honest," you say, holding your breath between words. 
Sirius sits in the chair that's been kicked out for him with a cigarette held between his lips, unlit. He lift a his hips to pull a lighter from his back pocket and you flush with heat at the motion, wondering if you're a pervert for looking, for thinking, but lately your flirty banter has your heart doing front flips, and every time you see him you're zoning in on his hands, his arms, the slip of skin at his navel when he stretches, the low sound he makes when something pops. 
"Stop ogling me," he says without looking from his cigarette, the end glowing orange in the flame of his clipper. 
"I don't mean to," you say. 
James shifts uncomfortably. Everyone knows you like Sirius, maybe even Sirius, but he hasn't said a thing about it and you've stopped yourself (so far) from telling him. Any truth has been said under the guise of a joke. 
Sirius takes a short drag and holds the cigarette out and away from you, smoke curling in the cold autumnal night. "Shall I go help defend your honour? I assume that's where Remus is. Being spiked isn't funny." 
"I'd like it if you stayed here," you say. 
James laughs. Sirius leans forward a touch. "Then I'll stay here. Do you need something to drink?"
"My mouth is really dry," you say. 
Sirius sends a saccharine smile James' way. It's the look of an older brother used to getting his way, to which James sighs and grumbles, standing from his chair, "Don't ask her anything cruel," he says severely, kissing the top of your head quickly. "I'm serious." 
"I won't. I quite like her, in case you forgot. I've no interest in torturing her." 
You believe him. James departs with a pat, leaving you and Sirius alone at the garden table, still but for the little motion he does every now and then to fleck ash onto the floor. 
"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asks.
"I feel fine. Warm, but that's probably because you're smiling at me." 
He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe we should talk about something else. I really don't want to ask you anything too personal while you can't keep a secret. James gave me veritaserum once, when we were kids." 
"He did?" you ask. 
"Too much of it. I was sick, and I couldn't stop telling him how much I wished we were real brothers. Which he knows now, but at the time it was, you know, very sincere." 
"You and James are real brothers," you say. 
"I'm glad you can say that. It must be true," he says. "I'm lucky, even if he has tried to poison me." 
"James is lucky too. We all are." 
"Yeah?" he asks. He's about to continue, but your mouth does the choosing for you, and you cut him off. 
"I love knowing you, Sirius, I feel lucky to be your friend, and I–" You bite your tongue hard enough for tears to catch in your eyes immediately. 
Sirius' blasé fades, falls away slowly, like a moving cloud unveiling a slice of light, "Don't hurt yourself," he says, alarmed at your wincing. He drops his cigarette and smashes it with his heel, shuffling his chair closer to yours. 
"I just don't want to tell you something," you say, shaking your head. 
Sirius touches your hand. "Okay, I won't ask you any more questions. I'm sorry. Everyone's allowed their secrets, lovely, I didn't mean to make you answer me. I thought it would be easier to skirt around the issue." 
But it's a big feeling, and it's in everything you do. You really, really like him. If you can't be honest about that, maybe you can be honest about something else..
There's no shame in finding a handsome man handsome. And maybe you can convince him that that's all it is. "I just want to kiss you stupid, Black," you say, "like, kiss you until I can't feel my mouth anymore. You look like you know how to really kiss someone." 
Sirius laughs suddenly, startled. "I want to kiss you stupid, doll. You're a fucking dime piece," he says through laughter, "and that's the truth."
"You look really nice when you laugh," you further, wondering if this is the wrong thing to do. 
"You look beautiful when you laugh," he says. 
"Joking with you about stuff is the best part of my week." 
"It's the best part of mine. I wish we saw each other more often," he says. 
"Did you drink the pimms, too?" you ask. 
"No. I'm stone cold sober, sweetheart." Sirius looks behind you and you follow his gaze to the patio doors, where James and Remus are arguing good-naturedly, a tall pint glass filled literally to the rim with water in James' hand.
"Has he left you alone?" Remus asks, quick down the short step to defend you. "I love you, Sirius, but I don't trust you to not ask her embarrassing questions." 
"I'm starting to get offended. No, she hasn't told me anything embarrassing. Only that she wants to snog my lips off, but I knew that already." Sirius smiles at you dopily while his friends seize up. "And that's hardly embarrassing, because I want to do it to her first." 
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generous1ty · 2 years
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Ofc! Just feel free to speak to me anytime. Not only as mutuals/acquaintances, but as friends. Take care, please do enjoy the Drabble! I just gotta start gaining interest in writing again dies
i see 🤔 i'll keep that in mind! thank you for reaching out, and for thinking of me 🤭 it makes me very happy to know that you're still there. i hope you have a wonderful night, and wish you luck in your writings!!!!
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straykidsholicleigh · 1 month
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better?
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pairing: idol!minho x fem!reader
genre: fluff, drabble like thing
warnings: established relationship, kissing, minho tries to get freaky 💃
a/n: here's my 500 follower special!! hope u like it even though it's shit- I had to rewrite it but the original was 2K words- so this is short pls don't kill me-
credits: dividers by @cafekitsune ♡.
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You don't know what it was honestly. Maybe you drank too much chilled water? Went to bed with your hair still wet? Or, well maybe it was the iced coffee you had in the morning and then another in the night. I mean, you did have a night filled with passion before sleeping and Minho did leave the AC on a high setting before sleeping, but you couldn't really pinpoint what it was. But it was definitely one of those.
You woke up this morning with a splitting headache, body shivering even though it was summer, your boyfriend walking out of the bathroom without a shirt. "Wow," He said as he watched you groan, sneezing as you wrapped the blanket around your naked, shivering body.
"You look like shit." He completed, crawling into bed as he placed his palm over your head, hissing as his hand warmed up from your high temperature. "You need medical attention," He said, placing a chaste kiss to your shoulder as you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, no shit Sherlock." You called out as he shouting at you to shut up, making you smile.
Your relationship was always like this, cat and mouse, cat and dog, always barking and teasing each other. It was your love language now, it always has been. From the time you became friends till now, nothing as changed. Despite the constant teasing and barking, you both obviously loved each other, knowing when the teasing should stop or when the other gets offended or uncomfortable. You both knew each other like the back of your hand.
You shivered, reaching out to turn the AC off as you quickly covered yourself with the blanket, groaning as your muscles ached. The door flew open moments later, Minho standing there with a plate which had a glass of water and pills, a few crackers layed out neatly as he placed the plate on the table. He drew the curtains shut, the sunlight disappearing as he helped you get out of bed.
He walked you into the bathroom, taking out one of his old shirts and a pair of underwear for you as you brushed your teeth. He helped you change, hitting him whenever he tried to spread your legs apart further. "I'm sick Minho!" You nearly yelled as he laughed, apologizing as he patted your head. Once you were out of the bathroom you ate the crackers slowly, listening to Minho talk about his new comeback. Once you were done, he helped you take the pill, kissing you and whispering words of encouragement which made your heart flutter.
He placed you down onto the bed, making himself comfortable next to you as he wrapped his hands around you, closing his eyes. You turned around, his eyes fluttering open as you caressed his face. He looked so beautiful, his deep brown eyes boring into yours as your heart swelled with love for him. "Yes, jagi?" He asked, eyeing your lips as you smiled. "Kiss me, please?" You pleaded. He smiled, leaning forward as he pressed his lips to yours, his hand moving to cup your cheek as your hand rested on his chest.
Your lips moved in sync, like as if you've been doing this from the time you were born, it was so natural. So right. So... perfect. Like your lips were made for each other.
He pulled away first, making you whine as he laughed. "Now I'll get sick!" He exclaimed as you gasped. "Then why did you kiss me?! Naurr!" You groaned, mimicking the australian accent as he smiled. "No it's ok," He said, pulling you closer to his chest as you buried your face into him. "I don't mind getting sick with you. The more time I take taking care of you the happier I get." You looked up at him, smiling as he caressed your lips.
"Better?" He asked.
You smiled. "Better."
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@cafekitsune i used ur dividers but i made them black and white to match the aesthetic. hope u don't mind 😅
taglist: @bbgnyx @junglyric @hyunevlogs @smuttystraykidsthoughts @yessa-vie @chartrucewhore @hyunlar @yaorzu-blog @silverstarburst @himynamesjadon @double-knxtt @itzyeunusiastrie @not-the-herb-sage @ifudontlikegidlefucku @yo-peeps-itzz-asher @hayleyinthebuilding @iwishmiyeonismygf @nathan-idk @soleil-like-the-lillies-or-sun @audreyyy-yyy @leointhehouse @kian-it-means-king @vanillacupcakefrosting @vannipak @tae-ig @joshuanotfound @ivydoesit23 @minjunsworldsposts @fauna-flora11 @ryanerror141 @maya-yay @ophelia-and-yes-i-stan-skz @rockyhedgehog @sleepyleeji @kaiyaba
©straykidsholicleigh (2024) – all rights reserved. reposting/copying of any kind is not allowed.
DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARISE, COPY & REPURPOSE.
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plushish · 2 months
Note
Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?
just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader
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headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?
content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).
a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!
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Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  
The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.
The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.
But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 
Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"
You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.
...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.
"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.
"No, I'm good." 
"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."
"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."
That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?
"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"
"Nah."
"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.
"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."
“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”
To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.
“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 
"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 
"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."
"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."
Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 
“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."
You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.
"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."
"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.
"Just give me one more shot?"
And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.
You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."
"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."
"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"
"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."
Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.
And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."
So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.
You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:
"Look who has a crush now."
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a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate
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lilsluttyy · 3 months
Note
gojo making you breakfast in bed as an apology for being rough :3
" let me make it up to you "
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✪ Gojo Satoru x m!reader
✪ warning: -
✪ lover au
____________________________________
The air was cold and silent the only thing that can be heard was your soft snores.
Gojo walked into the room while holding a tray of food in his hands and smiled softly at the sight of you sleeping, " I wore you off real good last night.." he mumbled as he looks over the love bites that he left while feeling proud.
The smell of food slowly awoken you , your eyes fluttered open and see Gojo giving you his signature toothy grin as if he didn't fucked you till you fainted.
" here you go baby breakfast in bed made by me your amazing lover " Gojo claims proudly.
You glare at him but shove the food he made Into your mouth and moaned at the taste , Gojo smiled while handing you a glass of water.
You took the glass from him and muttered " you should do this more often "
" well If that's what my prince wants then I shall make it happen " you smiled softly at him and kissed him on the lips. " Just because you made this don't think I forgave you yet " Gojo chuckles and nods
" don't worry baby breakfast in bed isn't the only thing I'm doing to make it up to you for last night~ " Gojo says huskily and your face blushes as you let your imagination run wild for a second. You coughed to yourself and grin at Gojo " well I'm looking forward to see what you have in store for me~ "
---------------------------------------------------
A short one for my comeback I'll try and like finish the other reqs but I'm probably gonna be more focused on my wattpad story first
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lixie-phoria · 3 months
Text
↳ ♡₊˚. rest please ꒱
9th!member reader falling sick from overwork and stress
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requested - yes // Would you be able to possibly do a skz x ninth reader where she’s not feeling well and like throws up everywhere, and chan and the members help her though her not feeling well then specifically chan?
gn!reader x ot8 // warnings - reader is overworked, faints, mentions of diets, reader throws up (lmk if I missed anything!)
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there is only one bang chan. you're sure of it. but as you stand up from the floor of the dance room, you see double images of your leader looking at you in confusion.
"yn?"
his voice resonates through your head, like an echo from someplace far, concern woven through his urgency.
you should probably reply to him, right?
"yn? can you hear me?"
when he steps forward, the world shifts. a searing pain runs across your head, like a red hot spike drilling into your skull.
"wha-"
you see it happen in the mirror - your figure collapsing onto the ground, jeongin's panicked yell, and the thud that follows immediately after before everything goes black.
it was just the three of you in the practice room that day, the others too busy with vocal training or recording or filming. it was comeback season, and to top things off your solo project was nearing too, closely following the release of your group album. and to say that you were overworked was an understatement. you don't remember the last time you slept for longer than an hour.
your days revolved around practice, recording, photo shoots, diets, promotions, and what not. this was busiest you have ever been, and it was slowly starting to show.
you register a dull pain in your upper arm and the throbbing of your head as you blink up at the bright ceiling lights glaring at you. you're covered in sweat, lying on the couch with your head awkwardly propped up against it's arm rest.
"she's up!" someone shouts as your senses return to you slowly. you're still in the dance room, but everything feels stuffy. someone is pressing an ice pack against your forehead.
"yn you scared us!"
all the members seem to have assembled in the dance room, crowding over your figure.
"what happened?" your voice is hoarse and your head feels groggy as you sit up, leaning away from felix as he tries to push you back down.
"you fainted! you were out for nearly fifteen minutes!"
"what?"
"yeah. scared the life out of chan hyung," jeongin adds.
"of course she did! do you know how worried we were?"
you feel mortified. you can't believe you fainted in the middle of practice.
"are you ok? does anything hurt? you fell pretty hard."
you shake your head - no. of course, the pounding in your head was getting worse and you were sure you bruised your arm but you weren't going to tell them that. being the maknae meant they already babied you a lot. there was no way you would admit how sick you felt.
"alright good. let's leave then."
"leave?" you stare at chan in confusion as he goes to unplug his phone from the speaker.
"yeah. you don't think we're going to let you dance after this, right?"
your eye twitches in mild annoyance as you listen to him speak so matter of factly.
"how come i don't have a say in this?"
"because the last time we let you have your say, you passed out."
"i'm ok! i don't need a break," you hiss, eyes narrowing as chan turns to look at you exasperated.
"yn-"
"i passed out, so what? big deal! you can't just call off practice when we have an album coming out!"
your voice escalates as you snap, and the others look at you in shock.
"yn calm down-"
"stop asking me to calm down!"
you don't know where the burst of annoyance was coming from, but it was strong and red hot, urging you to take it out on your members.
"i'm fine! stop treating me like a baby!"
you push away felix's hand from your shoulder, standing up to prove your point.
but that was a big mistake.
an ugly feeling immediately rises up your chest, slithering through your throat as the world tilts again and the lights blink at you.
"fuck."
you were far from fine, and that is the last thing you register before pushing past lee know and han, running out of the room and to the nearest washroom you can find, heaving your insides out.
it's terrible, kneeling on the ground as your head pounds worse than ever and flashes fill your vision.
"yn!"
you distantly register chan's panicked voice as he skids into your cubical, wasting no time in kneeling down right beside you, pulling your hair up into a makeshift pony.
"i need you to breath, ynnie. let it all out," he whispers softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down you back as your body tembles from the gags.
a small part of you wonders what chan is doing in the washroom, before realizing that in your hurry you probably ran into the common staff bathroom.
"are you feeling better?"
chan's hands hover behind your back as you weakly get to your feet, mustering the energy to pull the flush and rinse your mouth with water.
you can do nothing but nod, slumping against him as you exit the bathroom, and his hands immediately clasp your waist, holding you up.
"i'm so sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes as you let him guide you to wherever he decided was best.
"it's not your fault."
"i shouldn't have yelled at you."
"it's ok, yn. we all have our bad days."
you feel the cold breeze on your face as you open your eyes to see he's walking you out of the building's back door, with your manager waiting with the car.
"if I take you to the dorms will you please rest?"
your brain wants to refuse. you need to perfect your choreography. you don't have time for rest.
but your body is an entirely different story. you can barely walk or see straight.
"ok."
your voice is small, and chan immediately knows you're reluctant.
you hear him sigh softly as he helps you into the car before climbing in himself.
"ynnie, please rest. or you'll get worse and might not recover until the release day. wouldn't that be worse?"
he does have a point.
"and taking a break is okay. you're doing so well, you don't have to push yourself when there's nothing you're lacking in."
he ruffles your hair softly as you lean into the seat.
"thank you."
"don't thank me when I didn't even realise how overworked you were until you literally collapsed!"
you laugh softly, slightly leaning down to rest your head against his shoulder.
"don't blame your-"
you're cut off when Chan's ringtone blares into the silence and he jumps slightly, fishing out the device from his pocket.
"fuck."
"what's wrong?" You turn to look at his steadily paling face.
"I forgot to tell the others you're okay and I'm taking you back to the dorms."
"shit," you agree, wincing as chan hesitantly slides the accept button.
"hello...?"
"YAH WHERE ARE YOU BOTH WE'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE BUILDING FOR THE PAST 10 MINUTES IS YN OKAY?"
lee know is loud, and chan has to lean away from his phone as the second oldest's voice comes out loud enough as though he's on speaker.
"minho-ah I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you guys. She's okay now we're going to the dorms."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FORGOT?"
you sigh before taking the phone from chan as his wince deepens.
"I'm okay. I'm so sorry for worrying you but please calm down."
the change in lee know's voice is so immediate it earns a snort from chan.
"oh yn, of course! Please take care, I'll bring back some soup and ramen for you when we come back from practice."
"thank you! Now please stop worrying."
you hand back chan his phone as he flashes you a grateful smile.
"i hope he brings me back ramen and soup too."
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©lixie-phoria, 2024
taglist - @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)
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boba-beom · 10 months
Text
trapped in your game | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW
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pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader | genre: oneshot; fluff, smut. best friends to ?? | wc: 1.6 k | warnings: hair tugging, a lot of praises, pet names (, baby, princess, sweetheart, cutie), bsf!yeonjun's just so sweet :(( , physical affection, oral (m receiving), yj a lil rough with it, cum swallowing, smut with plot, not proof read, lmk if I've missed any. | a/n: so I wanna thank @junniieesbby for elongating this idea with me hehe, testing waters out since it's been a while but enjoy <3 this is my comeback guys >:) it's also 5am, so I'm sorry HAHAHA
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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continue under the cut ❤︎
no matter how many times you turn around and rant to your best friend, yeonjun, he's there laying on your bed with his upper body hanging off of the edge and his phone in his hands.
“yeonjun…” you whine, pouting as you ask him, “were you even listening?” you exaggerate a deep huff of disappointment and that catches his attention.
rushing to turn his phone off and throwing it somewhere on your bed amongst your plushies, he lays on his front and reaches his arm out to caress the top of your head.
“okay, okay. I’m listening, what were you saying?” he tilts his head slightly and he mirrors your pout.
“I was saying, I think I’m linking up with this guy next week but I don’t… um...” you trail off, lightly chewing on your bottom lip thinking if you sound dumb worrying about this.
“but you don’t what? you know you can tell me, right?” he’s still caressing the top of your head ever so gently. yeonjun tends to have that aura about him. and it’s been like that for years. it’s not that you were embarrassed to tell him, he never belittles you about these things, or anything in general, but you also didn’t want him to think you were being silly about this.
“I don’t know if I’m good enough at giving head, jjun.” your light whine switched him up in some way.
you always wondered if he’s ever thought of you like that, and the answer is yes. but he knows his priorities as your best friend is that he’s always there for you no matter what. helping you in whatever it is. even when it comes to this.
“but you’ve given head before though?” he sits up, his feet now flat on the ground by your knees. you nod subtly, watching the way the little bulb lights up above his head.
“hmm..” he exaggerates a thinking face, bottom lip protruding before the corners of his lips turn upwards. “show me what you’ve got.”
you know how to kiss. that’s because yeonjun taught you. you know how to turn guys on. that’s because yeonjun taught you. but you’ve managed to give head and have your previous partners and flings come from that, and yeonjun hadn’t taught you. what if he teaches you now? will that make you better at doing it?
“yn? sweetheart, what’s going on in that cute 'lil head of yours?” he leans forward to grab ahold of your hand, which surprisingly lays limp in his palms. “I’ll talk you through it if you want.”
“I can try-“
he shakes his head, cupping the side of your face and his thumb stroking your cheek and slowly lowering to glide across your bottom lip. “Give me your all, c’mon.”
“thanks jjun.” you shoot up an innocent smile, the one that makes his knees weak even when he's sitting down.
you shuffle onto your knees, situating yourself between yeonjun's thighs while your fingers began to skim over the material of his sweatpants. yeonjun, on the other hand, was anticipating the act, leaning back on his elbows to observing you from that angle. he knows how good you are and how good you can be, of course he does because he's taught you these things.
as you watch your best friend look back at you with his sultry eyes, you catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip as your fingers trail closer towards his half hard dick.
"oh, so this is how you tease your flings huh?" his voice was lower than usual, but nothing you've never heard before.
"just find it a little fun when they squirm. you're good at not doing that though jjunie." you finally apply pressure onto his growing dick, stroking him through his sweats and picking up the pace until you see him fighting to throw his head back, but resorting to heavy, shaky breaths.
a hum leaves your mouth when you see yeonjun get harder under your touch, but it doesn't take much longer until you're hooking your fingers under the band of both his sweats and boxers.
your chest heaves a little, it's not the first time you've seen yeonjun's dick, the last time being when you caught him masturbating in his room with his door unlocked and he was wearing headphones. but he had a pretty dick for sure. his girth was a good size, the length wasn't too intimidating but deep inside you were excited. the head had already started to leak clear droplets, veins just beginning to raise to the surface as you wrap your soft hand around his shaft by the base.
he hisses from the pressure you apply, letting out his sigh that he had been holding in for a hot second. you're in awe, never had you touched yeonjun like this before, but to see him react this way just from your simple touches were starting to affect the dampness between your thighs.
"yeonjun, you know, you have a pretty dick." you tell him sweetly.
"thank you kitten— oh my god." he doesn't hold back the small moan in his throat after you had just licked him from the base to the tip with your lips lighting sucking on the head, letting the salty droplets spread across your tongue.
you smile at him once again, observing the way his mouth slacks open and how his pretty, pillowy lips are the same colour as his soft tip. that's something you'll unintentionally engrave in your brain for every time you glance at his lips.
"so.. so.. pretty.." you kiss around his shaft randomly betwen your words, and he responds with his hand in your hair, and lightly tugging it.
"get to it cutie, I wanna know how good you are." he loosens his grip, letting you take more of him into your mouth until he's almost prodding the back of your throat and pulling him out again.
a guttural groan leaves his throat as you repeat the same action a couple more times before you gag from how far in you're taking him. you're usually pretty good at not gagging, even using the squeezing-your-thumb-extremely-tight trick to prevent that, but it still happened.
"hey, hey." yeonjun sat up in urgency, but mentally kicking himself for twitching from the fact tears started to well up. "I'm sure you wanna do good for him, right? now breathe through your nose, your throat's gonna be occupied."
you nod, really listening to his words and you do exactly what he tells you. taking in a couple of deep and steady breaths you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing your head and inching further until he hits the back of your throat without you gagging.
"oh shit," he gasps, "just like that, princess, just like that."
both of his hands make their way to your hair, gathering them as best as he could into a makeshift ponytail. the suction you have going on was starting to make him feel light headed, twitching in your hold. he couldn't refrain, but you were doing too good. with your hair now in a tight ponytail in one fist, he pushes your head down more until he hears you gag.
an airy chuckle leaves his lips as he moans out your name and other profanities, boosting your ego to keep going. you know he's close when you watch his lower abdomen starting to twitch from under his black hoodie.
"keep going baby, I'm so close. god, you're so good." his heaven sent whines were shooting straight to your core, and you just knew your panties were soaked through from the discomfort against your core.
you let out a strong hum whilst continuing to bob your head, moving your wrist to push him over the edge. your other hand caresses his thigh while his hand is wrapped around your wrist. tight. a few more delicious moans leave your best friends mouth, throwing his head back as he bucks his hips up, close to chasing his high.
"yn, ugh, baby I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." his hold around your wrist tightens as the band in his stomach snaps, feeling the way his cock twitches against your tongue.
you suck on his tip, swirling your wet muscle around it a few times until you taste his cum on your tongue. you let out a surprised moan from the way his load was shooting into your mouth, some even beginning to trickle down the back of your throat.
"ah shit, yn." he chuckles with a hand lazily covering his face. "you're so hot, what the fuck."
you giggle as you lean back on your knees, looking up at him and opening your mouth to show him his load under and around your tongue.
"filthy too, good god." he collects the cum threatening to drip from the corners of your lips as he waits for you to swallow it all and lick the rest from his thumb.
"so was that alright?" you lean your arms across his knees and rest your chin on the back of your hands.
"alright? you did so good baby." he caresses your head again, noticing the way you're refraining from smiling so hard.
"jjun?" you ask, almost a whisper. your fingers tracing invisible shapes across his thighs. he responds with a light hum. "I kind of don't want to see that guy anymore."
"what are you saying?" yeonjun raises an intriguing brow.
"I kinda just want you." there it is again, that precious smile that yeonjun loves to see.
again, he reaches out for you and leads you onto his lap, hovering you over his spent dick. your hands rest on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as he brings his middle and ring finger to stroke up against your clothed slit and rubbing light circles on your clit.
"well, I'm all yours."
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taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi and bc I thought you guys would like this hehe @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed @kookthief @choistick @baljinciaga @hanniejie
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zeezelweazel · 3 months
Note
A fluffy Leah fic for her comeback???? Maybe r being the one to give her the armband when she gets subbed on or like Leah being shy when asking r to be there during her comeback game??
Leah Williamson| Welcome Home|
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LEAH GOT AN ASSIST ON HER FIRST GAME BACK
(I also hit 1k followers 🥹 thank you so much guys)
I wrote this just to get my mind off jilly so it's short, sorry but I'm so sad rn
Finally some fluff to cleanse all the smut
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You remember the day Leah tore her ACL vividly. You were on the bench, having been subbed off just a few moments before. Nothing compares to the feeling of absolute dread that filled your entire body the moment you saw her go down. When the stretcher brought her on the sidelines Leah looked at you her eyes wide and scared and you knew.
Her recovery was long and hard but you were there. For every small step forward and every step back, for every time she was angry or frustrated or sad you were there. To hold her and brush your fingers through blonde strands of hair and whispers sweet nothings in her ear and kiss her forehead. You loved her when she didn't love herself and you kept loving her as she got stronger and stronger. You watched as she picked up different hobbies and did amazing things she never thought she'd do.
And now you watch as she gets up from the bench to warm up and your heart soars. You grin wide as you try to keep your head in the game but your body is buzzing with excitement at what's to come.
Soon enough you hear the crowd soar and you look at the bench to see Leah, smiling free and happy, ready to take your spot on the field. You didn't care about being subbed off, having done your part, so you run towards her. You carefully slipped off the captain's armband and approached her.
The loud stadium was tooned out as your whole world turned into blonde hair and blue eyes. As you reach the white line you take Leah's hand, holding it longer than necessary, and you slip the arm band on. Leah pulls you in for a quick hug and you don't waste the opportunity to place a chaste kiss on her head.
For the rest of the match your eyes are firmly locked on Leah. You watch closely as she sprints around and goes for tackles, because of course she does, and you watch as she puts in the perfect ball for beth to score. She was perfect in every way even after being gone for so long. Only your Leah would be able to do that.
You jump up from the bench to celebrate, probably too excited for a goal in a match that's already been won, and you wish you could run on the field and scoop her up in your arms.
And that's what you did. The moment the final whistle blew you made a beeline for Leah who was already looking for you. When your eyes met you recognised all those different emotions swirling in her blue irises.
You pull her in for a tight hug, Leah giggling happily as you spin her around.
"I'm so proud of you baby, you did amazing."
Leah smiled at you blushing and placed her head on the safety of your shoulder. She stayed there in your arms until the team had to huddle in a circle while Jonas gave his post match celebratory speech. You squeezed Leah's shoulder from your place next to her when he talked about her injury, her recovery and the fight she had to put up to get here. Leah blinked rapidly, her head moving from the sky yo the ground as she desperately tried to fight off her tears.
You moved your hand to rub her back and Leah gave you a grateful smile even though the tears didn't leave her beautiful eyes.
"You did it baby, I couldn't be more proud."
She turned and placed a kiss on your lips, not caring about the rest of the team. You enjoyed the warm feeling of her lips on yours and the soft hands on your hips. You chuckled at the cheers and whistles of your teammates and leaned your forehead on Leah's.
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pomegranateandblood · 3 months
Note
do you think you can do a wally clark fluff turned into smut maybe? i know you said you only do smut but i would love it if u could! thank u!
A/N: Heyyy. Welcome to my first fic for this blog. You wanted more fluff so I kept the smut a little bit on the down low for this, because usually I write full on smexy times. Thank you for requesting and Enjoy! ❤️🍍
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Friends
It was Homecoming week. You and the other ghosts were busy decorating the gym and painting posters to support Wally.
You were washing your hands and arms free off the dry blue paint as the brunette jock approached you. He seemed nervous.
„Everything okay ? You know it's the same routine as every year." You smiled looking at him through the mirror.
He had paint on his cheeks and arms, some even got into his ebony hair. „Look umm, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my date to the homecoming game?"
He was beet red, looking down at his hands. „-as friends of course."
You had to hold back a smile at his cute attempt not to make you flustered or embarrassed by his request.
Turning the faucet off, you dried your hands with paper towels before turning around. „I didn't guess you were the type to be ‚just friends' with a girl, football star."
You smirked playfully and he stared at you, mouth slightly open. „I- umm." he laughed nervously trying to find a right comeback.
„I guess I'm just not your type. Sadly." You clicked your tongue against your cheek before leaning close to his ear „Because I totally got a thing for tall, brunette jocks."
He sucked in a breath and before you could walk away held onto your arm. „It's a date. Wear a skirt."
You bit your lip as you nodded and walked away.
„Please" he added, his enthusiastic voice hollowing through the empty bathroom, making you giggle. Wally couldn't be not nice.
—-
As you waited for Wally in front of the stadium, you became more nervous. You really liked him and hoped that today you two could do something about the unresolved feelings.
Charly had helped you go through the wardrobe of the theatre club to find a skirt and matching outfit. Luckily they had just performed a more modern version of ‚Hairspray', resulting in you now wearing a pastel blue pleated skirt and a white tank top with a bow detail.
Good Thing that ghosts couldn't freeze bc else you definitely would've caught a cold in the chilly evening air.
„I hope I didn't make you wait too long, I couldn't find my jersey."
-
The date went well, Wally was enjoying the match.
After you two finished the fries and hot dogs he held your hand. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, flushing your cheeks.
„I got a gift for you." Wally said, taking out a box from the pocket of his letterman jacket.
It was a cardboard box, painted with the same paint you used for the posters.
„I found a necklace in the Lost and Found Box and the charm is wood. I wish I could give you something real and more special.“ Wally said as he opened the lid.
Inside was a silver necklace with a small pendant. The number 57. Wally‘s number.
You smiled. „It‘s perfect.“
Taking it out of the box, you fumbled with the clasp to put it on.
„I love it, Wally. Thank you" you said, touching the little pendant on your cleavage.
Your eyes drifted from his plush lips to his chocolate orbs, contemplating if you should kiss him. Before you could move, his hand touched your thigh at the seam of your skirt, burning your skin.
He licked his lips before leaning forward, giving you an innocent smooch. Noses to Nose he whispered. „I'm glad you don't want to be my friend."
The Hand on your thigh moved up to your hips and pulled you on his lap, your back pressed against the edge of the table. Being touched by him felt so good.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, capturing his lips again. He moaned into your mouth, which made you move your hips against his lap.
His hair was soft between your fingers and you slightly pulled at it. His hands snuck under your skirt, securing your hips on his crotch.
„Mmh is that why you wanted me to wear a skirt?" you teased, leaning your head back as he started kissing your neck.
The chuckle vibrated against the sensitive skin of your throat, right at your pulse point. You sighed.
„No, I just like the view of your legs. Even if it benefits me now." he groans.
You could feel the wetness of your panties as you tried to ease the friction between your thigh by pressing against him.
„Fuck, you want me to fuck you on this bench love?" He looks at you with dark eyes.
Wally must be uncomfortable in his tight football pants, so you pull at the strings securing it. „Yes please."
He helps you pull them off just enough to free his length, before he hungrily nips at your lips again.
His fingers pulled your panties to the side and you guided him inside of you.
Your other hand dug into the fabric of his football jersey and you moaned into his mouth. Placing his hands on your hips again, Wally thrusted up into you.
Your hips met his thrusts and you pulled away from his brusing kiss, trying to catch your breath.
„Wally" you moaned, clenching around him.
His lips explored your jawline down to your cleavage, biting and nipping. He would surely leave marks.
The edge of the table dug into your lower back with every thrust, but you didn't care. As long as the dark haired ghost kept on pleasuring you like this.
His Thumb found your clit, massaging with different paces, bringing you closer to the edge.
„Don't stop, please" you breathed, circling your hips more.
He kissed you again as he came, spilling inside you with a few sloppy thrusts.
You joined him, collapsing into his arms.
Wally held you, his hands caressing your back, finger playing with a few strands of your hair and you put your head against his chest, trying to spot his nonexistent heartbeat.
You realized neither of you talked about what this made you. A couple?
All you knew was that he made your heart flutter and your head dizzy. Hopefully this could last another lifetime. Or more.
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barefoothighlander · 11 months
Text
sehr schön
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summary: payback sucks (part 2 to this req)
könig x gn!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), blowjob, reference to smut, slight spit play, maybe voyeurism?, est relationship
"Price doesn't want you on my team darling"
He's sitting at his desk, his back leaning against the chair while his legs are spread wide, you had stormed into his office a few minutes prior, the orders to have you and König on separate teams coming from Price after your last mission failure.
"How is that fair, we work well together"
"Apparently you get distracted when we're on an op"
You cross your arms over your chest, furrowing your brows at him, "More like you purposely distract me"
"Maybe you should better your focus"
You open your mouth for a comeback but a knock on his door interrupts you,
"Oi Colonel, teams here awaiting orders"
A lightbulb goes off in your head, grinning as you move closer to him,
"You have to go my love"
You give a small hum in response, kneeling lower while you keep your eyes on him,
"Maus" He warns
"You know you should relax more, you're the one in charge"
He settles his alms against the desk, his eyes darting between the door and you as you move under the table, your palm running over his thighs.
"You in there König?"
"Better stay quiet" You grin
"Yes, you can, um you can come in" He stumbles over his words, his cheeks hot under his hood as he shuffles in closer to the desk, keeping you hidden.
"Right, men are here and ready for your orders" Soap stands in the door frame, turning his body to allow a few men into the room, all of them watching König, waiting for his response.
"Right, so we'll move in" His voice catches in his throat as your fingers work to undo his belt, biting your lip in anticipation. He continues to explain the drop-in route for the mission, assigning a few positions, you grin as you pull his pants lower, his length throbbing under the thin cloth of his briefs, you palm him over the fabric, enjoying the way his fingers grip on the corner of the desk.
"Reynolds you'll cover us from above, Soap will plant explosives to get us in" His breath hitches as you slowly pull his underwear lower, letting his cock spring free, wetting your lips with your tongue at the sight of his tip, dripping with pre cum. You place a small lick to it and his stomach tightens, arching his hips forward wanting more,
"I'll lead in, clear the first floor and wait for instruction then, Soap you'll" He lets out a heavy breath, "You'll lead team two"
"You alright Sir?"
"Me? I'm fine, just tired" He shakes his head, you let out a small laugh around his cock, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth as you sink lower, flattening your tongue to lick up his length. You bob slowly up and down, letting your spit coat him as it drips to his base, wetting his pubic hair. He lets out a groan as you bury his tip in the back of your throat, his hips thrusting lightly as you dig your fingers into the flesh of his thigh, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, his face flustered as the men in front of him share a look of concern.
"So, we move from there, weapons hot we don't know how many hostiles there are"
He bites his lip, holding back his groans as the men discuss between themselves, nodding along to their questions, feeling his balls grow tighter as you work him.
You place a hand around his shaft, working the length that won't fit in your mouth, pumping him faster as you hollow your cheeks, running your tongue over his tip with every bob. You snake a hand down his thigh, moving to cup his balls and he squeezes his eyes shut, quietly muttering in German as he rocks his hips, you hum, the vibration causing him to clear his throat as the men turn back to him.
"Shouldn't take more than an hour to clear, we have execute authority" He stops himself for a moment, too focused on the fact that you've pulled off him, he glances down for a moment, his wide eyes on your hooded ones as you stare at him through your lashes, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips as he watches you lean in, kissing the head of his cock before letting some saliva drip from your mouth onto it.
"So capture or kill?" Soap's voice breaks his gaze, Königs eyes squinting for a moment as he processes the words,
"Yes, leave no witnesses"
The men nod, collecting their files before moving out of the room, König relaxes his shoulders for a moment, his hand slowly shifting to settle on your head,
"Sorry about your mission the other day"
His body freezes as his eyes land on Soap, standing in the doorframe, he wills him to leave but he keeps talking. Königs chest is heavy with his breaths, he's getting closer with every flick of your tongue.
"If it's any consolation you shouldn't blame Viper, I've never seen them miss a shot"
You grin to yourself, your hands working in tandem to knead his balls as your spit-coated digits work his length,
"Yes it was unfortunate" He grumbles
You remove your hand, pushing his cock to the back of your throat, your nose rubbing against his pelvis as his hand shoots to the back f your head, his fingers holding you against him as he twitches his hips back and forth. You feel his stomach tighten, raking your nails over his skin as he struggles to contain his moans, shooting his cum into the back of your throat as you swallow it greedily, your mouth milking him for every drop as his body stutters, Soaps words escape his ears as he continues to talk, König nodding lightly as he finishes.
"Anyways, see you on deck Sir" Soap nods, leaving the room.
The door closes and König pushes his chair back, his softening cock resting against his stomach as he stares down at you, your cheeks red as you wipe your spit-soaked chin, smiling back at him. He runs his thumb over your lower lip, feeling his cock twitch slightly, as he drops his head back, sighing.
You move from under the desk, standing to rest against it as he carefully tucks himself back into his pants, "You should work on your focus"
"You're cruel"
"Mm, paybacks a bitch" You lean down to him, your hand lifting his hood above his lips so you can kiss them, savouring his taste for a moment before pulling back.
"I'll see you after the mission darling"
"I hope so"
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ja3hwa · 1 year
Text
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧
【Synopsis】 : After the couple of nights teasing and testing the waters. San finally makes a plan to corrupt your sweet mind once and for all.
『Word count』 : 2.27k
-> Genre: Smut. Fluff. 
Paring: Idol!San x Female!Reader 
[Warnings] : Cursing. Cyberpunk outfit san (yes, this is a warning) some insecure thoughts. Dirty talk. Foreplay. Kinda shy reader. Virgin reader. Corruption kink. Pet names. Fingering (f receiving). Unprotected sex. (Dont do that).
Note : Thank you for the requester from Wattpad for this. They asked for a part two to my bend fic with a cyberpunk outfit twist... So I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'm trying out a knew layout, so ignore me, hehe.
Masterlist | Navigation | Part One
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Frustration and fear would be the only things to describe your emotions right now. After the little sexual activities San and You had performed four nights ago, you couldn’t help but play it in detail over and over in your mind. You wanted, needed, fuck, you craved it. you were going to go insane if you didn’t have another taste of San. And he was not helping, sending you not so safe for work texts or sending photos of his very sexy stage outfits for his performances he and his members have been doing since the comeback happened. What is worse about seeing your boyfriend in such gorgeous outfits is that you are unable to touch him in them. Once he is home, he is already washed up, make up free and outfit gone.
You couldn’t lie when you said you had fantasies of San fucking the living day lights out of you in one of the outfits, especially the Cyberpunk ones. The black crop top, black straps and fake Anarchy symbol tattoo that was displayed on your boyfriends lower tummy. You needed him so badly. But then the shyness comes in, you couldn’t possibly tell him what you wanted. Tell him how much you wanted to feel his cock poun―
“Darling. You awake?” San’s sweet voice echoed through the house, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“In here...” You couldn’t say anything else as you voice cracked. You could feel your heart beat in your ears and your legs wobbled as you tried to walk over to the door of your bedroom. San had turned you on that much, you felt embarrassed that you were that weak for him.
“Hey my baby. Why are you in here?” His voice was drowned out by the fuzziness in your brain suddenly turning up, ten-fold. He was in one of his stage outfits, more specifically, cyberpunk one. Oh no this is not going to end well..
“S-Sannie, w-hy are you wearing that?” You completely disregarded his question, asking one of your own instead. San tilted his head in innocence, looking down at himself before letting out a small chuckle follow by his classic feline smile.
“oh this? Yeah, I have to wear this outfit tomorrow for a photo shoot. So I made a suggestion that I wear it home since I need to tomorrow. It also saves the stylist in trying to find it later.” His ramble did not help the heat growing in your stomach. His voice was so low and raspy from singing all day. You can even see a little form of sweat coating him from the performances. He was a Greek god amongst men. And he was yours.
“Are you okay baby? You keep going quiet?” He took a step forward become only a couple centimeters from your trembling body. Sometimes you think you are living in a dream, how could someone like San be with you? He was sculpted like a porcelain statue and aging like a fine vintage wine. You were plan, normal. Nothing special. How could you end up together.
“Earth to y/n. Come in Darling?” He shook his hands in front of your blushed red face. You finally looked up to him, seeing how close his face was to yours. “Are you okay?” He asked again, rubbing his hand along your frame until it found place against your hip.
“I…Yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry.” You apologize for acting weird, but San kisses your forehead in protest, saying there was nothing to be sorry for. You hugged him for a moment, taking in his presence, making you feel better.
“So what do you think? I remember you like my outfits. But wasn’t this one like the second or fifth on your list?” His question made you gulp as you sat down on the edge of the bed, fearing you’d fall if you kept standing. He did a little twirl for you, stretching his arms up so he could show off the fit. He knew what he was doing. He knew this was your favourite stage fit, but he wanted to hear it from you directly. He needed to get praise from you. It was like a drug, and he craved it.
“Actually it’s my favourite outfit.” You whispered, biting your nails slightly while you unknowingly checked him out. He pretended as if he didn’t know with a little ‘oh’ slipping off his tongue.
“I have the fake―” He pulled the crop top up slightly so the tattoo could be put on full display. “You want to touch it?” His words came out desperately, making your eyes widen. You nodded like an idiot, watching your boyfriend walk closer to you so he could stand in between your legs. You were eye level with the fake tattoo, letting your fingers graze over it. His abs tensed at the feeling, a tingle in his gut growing.
“It looks so good on you.” You said without thinking.
“Yeah? That’s what you’re thinking?” His teasing nature erupted with the hint of greed. Call him weak, but if he had to, he would get on his knees and beg for you to praise him. Maybe he's got a praise kink, but that was a conversation he didn’t want to have. Not right now, anyway. Even though your brain was fuzzy, you could see the way San’s eyes sparkled when you spoke about him. You weren't as innocent as he thought. You might not know what to do in sexual situations, but to heck, if you didn’t know how to read a person. Especially San.
“I think the whole outfit looks good on you.” You spoke with a little more confidence, gripping the hem of his crop top tugging it, in hopes he got the hint. “You also look good if you have nothing on.”
It was like a switch went off in his mind. You, his innocent―well so he thought―partner basically asking him to take his clothes off. He sent you a devilish smirk, slowly guiding his hands up to the clips of his straps. You gulp feeling instant embarrassment from your statement.
“Is this what you wanted, baby? Wanted to see me naked?” His deep voice made your head dizzy, tucking your face in your hand to hide the blush that surely painted your face the moment he walked into the room. He shook the straps off, watching you intensely at your reaction of shyness. He lived to see the corruption fill your senses, so once he threw his straps somewhere in the room, he pounced. His lips latched to yours, making your head spin. His hand gripped the back of your neck to pull out closer. His knee pushed up against the bed, in between your legs, letting you grind slightly on his thick thigh.
“San…” you moan straight into his mouth, making him groan in response. His free hand that was found perched on your hip glided slowly towards your ache between your legs. His long fingers were quick to wrap around the small flimsy fabric known as you sleep shorts before pulling them off in one motion. You showed no fear, letting him grab your panties straight after so he could pull them off the same way. His lips never left yours through this whole moment, wanting to pamper you before he had his way.
“Pretty.” A word slipped off his tongue, making his mouth leave yours so it could latch on your jaw, then your neck. Sucking and biting at your hot flesh. You never felt such excitement, and you begin to crave it the more you feel your boyfriend’s tongue dancing on you.
As if he understood what your thoughts were saying, his brought on hand to the inner part of your left thigh. Finger tips dangerously close your soaked pussy. You whined, body trashing slightly as if it has a mind of it’s own. Like a primal instinct has taken over. You moan out his name twice, or was it four? You sounded like a broken record and San hadn't even touched you that much.
“My perfect baby. You sound so nice when you beg. But begging isn’t needed tonight. I’ll give you whatever you want…” His lips place kisses on your exposed stomach, sending chills down your spine. “…that’s if you tell me what you want. Come on, tell me, and it's yours. What do you want.”
You choked out another whimper, knowing San was going to pull something like this. He needed you to tell him exactly what you wanted. He needed to hear the filthy words leave your lips. He needed to know every detail that you fantisise in your pretty little head. “San…”
“What’s it baby? What do you need?”
“I want…” He sat completely up, moving back up so he was face to face with you so he could see your eyes flutter with the shyness as they slowly slipped into corruption. “I want you to fuck me. Please, make me feel good.”
“Fuck…” He groans, never seeing something as gorgeous as you asking him to rail you. He had surely died and gone to heaven. “Detail, what exactly do you want?” he needed more…
“I want you to fuck me with your outfit on.”
More…
“I want to feel you deep inside me.”
More…
“Please San if you don’t stick your cock inside me I’m going to scream.”
His brain short circuited, his hands and body moving like they were born to play with you. Stripping you from your pj’s entirely, his mouth latched on your hard nipple while his fingers slipped into your soaking hole with ease. He pumped quickly, bringing his thumb to your sensitive bud, circling it. Your hands fly to grip his shoulders, nails digging into the harsh fabric. Your head flew back, choking out his name over and name. His pace became faster, tilting his hand up so he could sink his fingers deeper inside you, pulling your orgasm closer within the seconds. “San I think I’m gonna…”
“let go for me, baby. I wanna feel you tighten around my fingers.” His dirty words tipped you over the edge, seeing white spots cloud your vision as you convulsed under him. You’ve never felt such an intense orgasm before in your life, feeling like you could walk through fire and not get burned. Once your high came down, he pulled out his soaked fingers slowly before taking them in his mouth, tasting your sweet juices. You panted, letting out a little whine while you watched your boyfriend.
“You ready for more?” His voice was deep, gravelled, but it was laced with love. One side of his brain was screaming, aching to pound you and fuck you into next week until you see stars or pass out, but the other side wanted to make sure your first time was comfortable. He needed to show you how fun sex can be, how loving it can be. And besides, he has all the time in the world to corrupt you.
“Yes…” you whispered, snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. A smirk crept on his lips while they connected to yours, hand snaking down to grip the base of his cock so he could trail his tip along your folds. You took a large inhale, feeling a sense of excitement and worry. It was finally happening, you were finally going to go all the way. His tip slipped slightly into your enterance, making you wiggle in anticapation.
His dark chuckle that erupted from his chest made you roll you hips without thinking, feeling more of his cock slip inside. He took this as a green light, bottoming you out until you can feel his balls hit againsts your ass. Your nails dig into his shoulders feeling the painful sensation soon fade away into pure blissful pleasure. His thrusts started off slow, his hand snaked around your thigh pulling you closer. His lips felt yours and you tried to chase them―which made him laugh lightly―. He sat up pulling a pillow from beside you so he could place it under your hips. You watched him with curiousity, as he basically fluffed it before placing you onto the said folded pillow.
“Comfy.” His cheeky voice made your heart flutter as you replied with a small yes, following with a giggle. His hand pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, instructing you to lock them against him, which you did gladly. Your eyes gazed over his body from head to toe. Your eyes met the sight where your bodies were connected, and you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Like what you see, Doll?”
You bring your hands up to cover your face, groaning at him just freely being dirty in what seemed like a tender moment. He let out a chuckle at your reaction, leaning down you kiss between your breasts in order to distract you. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer. His thrusts started to pick up again, making you seemingly forget about your embarrassment. Grunts escaped San’s lips, losing himself for a moment with your velvet walls tightening around him. “Does that feel good?” He smugly asked.
“Y-yes.” You panted, your chest heaving as yours nails dig lightly into his biceps.
“Good...” He suddenly fell to lay on his back, bringing you along with him. His head almost hangs off the bed, as he plants his feet behind you, bringing his knees up behind your back “Then ride me, baby.”
A whimper escaped your mouth as you slid back onto him with ease. You slide your hands down his chest, over his flat abs, feeling how they contracted under your touch. You started moving, finding the right rhythm, completely pushing away the shyness you felt before. You threw back your head, supporting yourself onto his thighs as you lose yourself in the moment of oure bliss. His hands gripped your hips, bucking his hips into you harder.
He sat up, his fingers digging harder in your flesh, bouncing you on his cock faster. He grunts against your throat, enveloping you in his arms, so he could hold you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, twisting your fingers in his hair. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, so he needed to make sure he could let you cum before him. Few more thrusts and your body shakes in pleasure, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your walls flutter around him, triggering his release as he spills inside you with a muffled grunt lightly biting your shoulder.
“Perfect” He smiles, breathing against your heated skin, his fingers lazily running up and down your back. Tangling his fingers in your hair, finding your lips, he kissed you passionatly...
- ♡
2K notes · View notes
hunnylagoon · 3 months
Text
When I Was Your Girl
Stage Fright
Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader
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‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’
Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.
Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick
Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes
I've never been anything more than a joke.
I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.
Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 
"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."
"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.
"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"
She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."
"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."
Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"
She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."
I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."
I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.
"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.
I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."
The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"
"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."
He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"
"Nope."
"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 
"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.
As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.
I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.
I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 
Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.
Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.
His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.
"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 
"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.
"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.
"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.
"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.
My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.
I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.
When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.
I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.
Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.
The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.
It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 
I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.
Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.
If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.
My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.
Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.
She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.
I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.
I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.
Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.
"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."
Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.
Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 
"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.
Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.
I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.
Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.
At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."
The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.
I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."
I lived for the applause.
"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-
Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.
"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.
Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing
The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.
Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.
"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.
She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.
My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.
I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.
"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.
"I am so beyond grateful-
"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."
Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.
"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”
It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.
"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"
People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.
 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.
I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."
"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.
I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.
After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.
Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."
Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.
Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.
Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.
I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.
That was the night I truly became famous.
Grade eight- Age thirteen 
Middle school is hard.
Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.
I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.
Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.
In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life
"If you gave me only one wish,
I wouldn't want to feel this way.
They told me I'd have your memory
But all I want is you to stay
And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,
It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,
I wanted you to know."
I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain
This beautiful pain for you."
However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.
"If I sailed the world on stormy seas
Chasing sunlight that I can't see.
I was a dreamer here before,
Before I woke up and fell to the floor
And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,
Even with a scar this butterfly flew.
I wanted you to know."
I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day, these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."
Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.
"And all I'll ever need
And all I'll ever be,
Within every part of me is this,
This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
For you."
As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.
The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.
I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 
He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.
It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.
"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.
"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.
"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"
"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.
"What happened?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"
I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.
"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."
"I sang at the talent show today."
"And?"
"Everyone made fun of me."
He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"
"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.
"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."
"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.
"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"
I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."
"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.
After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.
When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"
"I dunno."
"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."
"So what do I do?"
"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."
Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.
I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"
I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 
-
Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out
     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself
     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole
     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails
conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.
     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom
     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé
     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me
     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.
stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?
      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy
      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn
thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album
     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝
    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????
    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?
    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔
     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis
sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.
   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist
    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't
bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested
  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system
    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom
   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 
charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING
juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.
botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.
    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.
carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????
katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene
howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.
   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious
  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke
allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV
jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh
hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll
4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice
sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.
carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed
    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid
     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔
"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.
"Well, it's not really my fault."
"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"
My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-
"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.
"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."
"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."
I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.
I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
Note
Mafia!pierre where he kidnaps reader to negotiate with her dad (another mafia leader) but slowly starts falling for her and gets protective?
Warnings: Kidnapping, bad language, protective!Pierre, murder
Words: 1.3K
A/N: Yeahhhh I started writing and it turned into a fic, whoops
"You kidnapped her?" Pierre looks up from his paperwork, a slight smile on his lips. "Maybe." Pierre's right-hand man groans, throwing his arms up, and walks away. "Whatever, her bastard of a father deserves it anyway," Pierre grumbles, thinking about a particular person sleeping in his bed.
It was pretty easy to kidnap you. You'd think the daughter of a Mafia Boss would have exceptional security, but Pierre and his men could move in and take you without a fuss. It helped that they had an insider slip you a sedative during your nightly tea.
Pierre groans, clicking on the security cameras to check in on you. Seeing you curled around his pillow and still out, he smiles. Your father will notice soon that you have been taken and come screaming for your back. Yet, it will be challenging for him to get you back. As Pierre will finally have his demands met.
Bored, he leaves his office, heads to his bedroom, and nods off the guards as he enters his room. "Shame, you are delicious looking," Pierre whispers, poking your cheek, watching how you wince, batting his finger away. "Leave m awone." Words muffled by his pillow, Pierre rolls his eyes.
"Don't want to wake, fine, I'll wake you." Grabbing the glass of water on the nightstand, he throws it right in your face. "Ahhh." Waking up with gasps, face and neck cold from the water, and suddenly woken. "How dare you wake me up like this! Father will-" You stop blinking when you see someone you know all too well.
"Gasly." You hiss, Pierre smirking as he sets the glass down. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocks back onto his heels. "You're a deep sleeper and far too trusting of your father's staff." Unable to think of a comeback, you glare at Pierre, who rocks forward, poking your cheek. Slapping his hand away, he chuckles.
"Wonder how much Daddy will give me for you? I'm sure it's a lot." Wincing at his words, you know the truth. Pierre will see nothing from your father; that man could care less for you. If your mother was still around, maybe he'd care, but with his new mistress and her pregnant, you were trash to him.
"You'll get nothing from him." You bite back. Pierre clicking his tongue, bops your nose, knowing you hate it. "Please, his precious baby daughter? He'll give me whatever I want when he finds out you've been taken." Looking away, you take in the dark classic French and Roman architecture, shocked by his excellent taste.
"You'll get nothing," Sighing, you look down. "I mean nothing to him." The last part whispered that Pierre didn't hear it. "Speak up, Y/n. It's annoying when you mumble. Don't get comfortable in my bed unless." He steps forward, leaning in the heavy scent from the pillow floating off him. "You want to warm my bed for me every night." Slapping him hard on the cheek, you scramble off and slam the bathroom door having to pee.
"Awwww, don't pout cherie. You and I can have our own fun." His laugh echoes as he leaves you alone. "Creepy French bastard. Hate that you smell good." You hiss, staring at the cologne that was clearly his. "Oops." Hand knocking it over as it spills open and down the sink. "Hope you're not a limited edition." Skipping to the shower.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
5 weeks later
"Clearly, her father doesn't give a fuck about her. We can just kill her now." Pierre doesn't answer, watching the camera outside as you tan; you're so still; Pierre sent someone to watch and make sure you don't fall asleep. "We're not killing her," Pierre growls, glaring at the men before him.
"Of course not, because you've been fucking her every night since she's been here." The room goes still as Pierre searches for the one who said that, eyes land on the one person not looking him in the eyes. "You've got the ball to say it, but not look me in the eyes and say it?" The guy looks up, face pale, staring at the ice-cold eyes of his Don. "It's true, though; she's been in your room every night. Fucking that whore." Pierre shoots out of his chair.
Grabbing the guy by the collar, he slams his head down hard, and a sickening crack bounces off the walls. "If you think I'd stick my dick in her pussy you are very wrong. But, I will not tolerate you calling her a whore. Burying him in the sea." He lets the guy slide down as the others move fast. "No one bothers me for the rest of the day." Pierre closes the cameras down, heading to the pool.
"You'll burn if you stay out here." Groaning at your peace being ruined. "Go away, Gasly. I'm sure you're busy with my father." The lie tastes like acid on your tongue. "I'm ignoring him." Pierre, not wanting to tell you the truth. He licks his lips, the 2 acts of kindness he's done for you today making him sick.
Technically it's 3 acts of service as he let you stay in his room. Pierre has been sleeping on the couch in the room, having never touched you. He's joked about it but stops and walks away when he senses your uneasiness. The anger in his office, hearing his men call for your death, felt wrong; even hearing that bastard call you a whore was like a pit. He hates that he knows how you take your tea, favorite scents, flowers, etc.
It was small stuff that you'd tell him at night. The silence in the room was deafening, and you couldn't handle it. Pierre noticed and placed a small sound machine in the room, only turning it on when you stopped talking. He hates that your father doesn't care you've been kidnapped. That he still hasn't sent word that his daughter was missing, nothing. It makes him want to tear the man apart.
"You're lying. Found out the truth have you?" You pull off Pierre's sunglasses, watching the man before you look away, suddenly interested in the pool. "Like I said, I'm ignoring him. He's sent something, but I wasn't satisfied with it." Pierre snaps, angry at himself more than you. Rolling your eyes, you lay back down, soaking in the sun. "You can lie to me all you want, but I'm waste. Father has his dumb little mistress ready to pop soon, and the moment it's a son, he'll send someone here and kill me." Pierre freezes upon hearing those words.
Why does he get this pit in his stomach anytime someone mentions you dying? It's stupid; you're the enemy. Yet he cares when he sees that rejected look in your eyes and wants to take it away or learn another fact about you.
Shit, he was fucked. Was he starting to care for you? No, he couldn't be. You're an annoying person who spilled his favorite cologne yet clings to his pillow to inhale more. He likes when you tell him his stupid orange shorts look lovely against his sun-kissed skin or his eyes are like rare sapphires. He hates that you pick flowers and bring them into his office. How you have become too comfortable in his daily routine and home. Like you're supposed to be here.
"No one will hurt you while you're under my care. If anyone so much as jokes about it, tell me." Looking back, you see how serious Pierre is. Hearing a commotion, you look, seeing a black bag and people struggling. "Is that what you mean? Killing your own people?" Not at all disturbed by the scene. You've seen worse while living with your father.
Taking a step forward, he touches your chin, the two of you looking at each other. "Yes, I don't care how many of them I kill. No one touches what's mine." Dropping your chin, he walks off, leaving you there.
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