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#it’s so professional looking. I’m always so impressed
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I recently got my first office job where I am interacting with my coworkers regularly. do you have any evil conversation skills that you think i should learn first
1. Figure out the easiest/most comfortable ways to say the whole spectrum of soft no’s to hard no’s from a scale of ‘genuine regret (invites future attempts if scheduling allows)’ to ‘polite deferral (respectful and evasive, somewhat firm)’ to ‘stone-cold shut down (professional Fuck You)’; you gotta know them all and you gotta be able to deploy them as needed. or at the very least, you gotta know how to give yourself time so you don’t automatically say ‘yes’ when you don’t want to.
2. The easiest way to make a good impression on people is to balance being useful and making others feel useful, which means offering some of the specific knowledge/insight you have and also asking for/acknowledging the knowledge/insight of others. offering/asking can be a weird balance, sometimes for some people in some contexts it comes pretty naturally, other times I find myself parsing out one (1) resource bit by bit to gauge whether someone’s actually looking for it or if it’s received in a lukewarm way. If ‘useful’ can’t really be a selling point at the moment (e.g. starting with zero experience rather than having an established knowledge base in a new environment) then you can always swap out ‘useful’ for ‘interesting’. know a charm point you have that can hook other people’s interest, know how to find and highlight other people’s charm points. If you want a mutual relationship it’s better to make an effort to share equally (for some people that means intentionally holding back, for other people that means intentionally speaking more), but if you’re just trying to coast it’s usually easiest to keep turning the conversation back on them and track topics the other person can get chatty about (pets, kids, shows, how they’re doing, etc).
hang on those are too reasonable and not evil but I’ve typed it all out so I’m not deleting. so, there’s a bunch of worksheets about ‘rules for fighting fair’ and if you ever meet a coworker you fucking hate then you wanna take those rules and do the opposite of all of them in order to have an on-purpose bad faith conversation and to make it as miserable for everyone as possible
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1. If the coworker you hate is trying to talk about one specific problem, disagree with whatever their definition is and refuse to compromise
2. Bring in as many stupid tangential asides as possible so their original point gets buried
3. If you want to be legit evil, always imply or directly state that whatever they’re going through is a personal problem and a Skill Issue
4. Always find a way to vaguely disagree with your coworker. If they have a good point, say ‘Well, no, it’s actually like [basically rephrasing their point]’; you can either be subtle about this (negging) or blatant about this (The Mansplainer)
5. There’s a limit to how disrespectful anyone can be as a new employee. Find that limit and keep just short of it.
6. Always deflect and blame someone else, or if there isn’t someone to blame, have different excuses at the ready for anything that anyone might take issue with.
to some, evil communication skills is to win. but I think the most successful (insufferable) application is when the point is to make everyone as miserable as possible. I’m not trapped here with you, You’re Trapped Here With Me. also I wouldn’t actually recommend doing many of these things if you want functional working relationships. but it’s good to keep in mind if you’re ready to go nuclear! but more seriously, I do think these are important evil communication skills to learn because if you recognize someone using them against you, it gives you the chance to make strategies based on their behavior. 1. If someone is disagreeing with you any time you try to express a problem, shut down the conversation and reengage with a mediator that will be fair to you; 2. if stupid tangents keep showing up, it’s up to you to be the terrier with its teeth sunk into the mailman’s leg; etc. anyway this has gone too long and someone else should probably be giving more legit advice
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lilybug-02 · 9 months
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The actual reason they ditched Chara.
Fan-art because I can draw. And I um.. kinda really love @akanemnon‘s comic…
Kind of a minicomic below…
Please forgive me. I’ve had this in my head forever and just wanted to share my AU meeting yours. That is my Final message. Goodbye. 🫡 jumping in this hole now 🕳️🚶‍♀️
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f1girliefics · 19 days
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Of Curly Hair and Fashion Shows
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Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: You are a runway girl. You always have been. And finally, your boyfriend decided to come to one of your shows. The only thing that made him nervous? You would be walking in wedding dresses.
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When you invited him to one of your shows you expected him to be busy, you didn’t actually think he would come.
But he did.
He was there, front row. 
And there you were. In the meter piece. The most beautiful dress.
A white dress.
A gorgeous wedding gown.
You were both excited and nervous at the same time for Lando to see you like this.
The two of you have been together long enough for people to ask questions about marriage and children. Even you two had a talk about it.
But this… this felt like fuel to the fire.
It was almost your time, you were ready.
Wedding season was in bloom, so it was no surprise that the centrepiece for the fashion show would be a wedding dress.
But not just any wedding dress.
The corset was made out of a sheer material, showing your skin, just a little, it was a true princess wedding dress. But the most impressive part was all the flowers.
Flowers made of fabrics, silk and lace.
It was stunning, you looked stunning.
You felt gorgeous. 
And then, you heard the countdown and it was your time to go.
You were thankful for all the lights to be right in your eyes.
You couldn’t see anyone, while all they could see was you.
All Lando could see was you and how amazing you looked.
His mind truly was blank. All he could think about was you.
His mind began to wander. He imagined you walking down the aisle. He imagined you smiling at him, saying yes and finally becoming his wife.
He looked up into your eyes and this was when you finally saw him.
It was only for a split second, but you could tell. He was thinking about the same things as you were.
A wedding.
But then, your eyes shifted to his curly hair.
Oh, how sexy he was with his beautiful hair.
No one noticed anything about your inner monologue. 
You were a professional after all.
Nothing showed on your face.
You walked back.
You still had one walk to do, the end and then a simple pose with the designer.
It was simple, it was your job and you were good at your job.
You softly smiled as the designer explained her vision for the collection and for the wedding dress.
“This is my first wedding dress. After me and my ex have together for almost ten years, he still refused to ask me to marry him. I broke up with him, moved away and now, here I am. This is the dress I wanted to, I made it.” Her words really stung with Lando.
He knew most women wanted a wedding after being together for so long. He feared you would leave him. You were a very capable woman, beautiful at that. Any man would be happy to marry you. 
But he wanted you.
“Don’t think just because I’m wearing a white dress you need to drop on one knee.” He heard you talk and then laugh. “I do look good tho, huh?” You swirled in one place, smiling as Lando looked at you up and down.
“You look drop-dead gorgeous, Love.”
“I’m happy that you are here.”
“Me too. You looked so stunning up there, a true professional.”
“I am. You drive your fast car, I look stunning in dresses.” He laughed a little at that, pulling you closer to kiss your cheek. 
“And you do look stunning.” 
“And you do drive fast.” You smiled. “I have to go change soon.”
“Just- Just one minute.” He held your hand and twirled you around once, watching the fabric move with your movement. He pulled you in for a sweet kiss this time, with his hand around your waist, it all felt too perfect.
“I like your hair like this.” You said as you allowed your fingers to run through and play with his curls. He smiled.
“I really should come to see more of your shows.”
“I do have a Victoria's Secret runway next week.” His eyes shined.
“I will be there.” 
He said and you knew he said it as more like a promise than anything. 
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Lessons in Anatomy
Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader
Summary: studying can be hard … good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to let you get some hands-on experience
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You let out a heavy sigh as you flip through the anatomy textbook in front of you. As a first year medical student, you’ve been spending most late nights recently trying to memorize every muscle, nerve, and blood vessel in the human body.
Lately you’ve been completely absorbed in learning about the upper limbs — the shoulders, arms, hands and fingers — and it’s all starting to blend together.
Closing the textbook, you stand up and stretch your arms above your head, feeling the pull in your deltoids and biceps. You’ve read so much about the muscles, it might help to actually palpate and feel where they are on your own body.
You lift your right arm out to the side until it’s parallel with the floor, palm facing down. Gently, you place your left hand on your right deltoid and feel the round contour of the muscle. You trace your fingertips along the borders, visualizing how the muscle attaches on the humerus bone.
“What are you doing?”
You jump at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice behind you. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him come home.
“Oh, I’m just, uh, palpating my deltoid muscle,” you say sheepishly as you drop your arm back to your side. “Trying to get a feel for where the muscles actually are.”
Charles grins, his bright green eyes twinkling with amusement at finding you in such an odd pose. “My talented girlfriend, always studying so hard,” he says.
You can’t help but smile back at him. The two of you met in school years ago, long before Charles became an F1 driver and your life became a whirlwind of travel, media attention, and hardly getting to see each other when coupled with your own studies. Moments like this — relaxed, easy, normal — have become few and far between.
Charles walks over to you and surprises you by taking your hand and placing it onto his upper arm.
“Here, feel mine instead so you don’t have to contort yourself,” he offers. “I’ll be your anatomy model.”
You laugh lightly and begin palpating the hard, defined muscles of his arm through his thin t-shirt. You locate the boundaries of his deltoid, impressed by the athletic development.
“Very nice delts,” you say teasingly.
“Why thank you, I work out sometimes,” Charles replies with a cheeky wink.
You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. His playful arrogance is one of the things you love most about him.
Slowly, you map out the contours of his shoulder, mentally labeling the muscles — supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres minor. Charles watches your focused expression with affection.
“How’s it going so far?” He asks. “Am I a good model?”
“Mmhmm,” you murmur absently, engrossed in your exploration.
You move down his arm, wrapping your hands gently around his biceps. You note the two distinct heads of the muscle.
“Can you flex for me?” You ask professionally.
Charles obliges, flexing his bicep and causing it to bulge up under your hands.
“Excellent, thank you,” you say, impressed by the muscle definition. Your fingers drift down his arm to his forearm, tracing the brachioradialis.
You are hyperaware of Charles’ eyes following your every movement. There’s an intimacy to having your hands on him like this that makes your heart beat faster. You try to remain focused, but with him standing so close, his warmth radiating onto you, it’s difficult to think clinically.
When you take his hand in yours, turning it palm up to examine the tendons along his wrist and fingers, you’re struck by its elegant beauty.
His hands may spend most days encased in racing gloves, but they still hold such graceful strength and capability. You find yourself tenderly tracing along the lines of his palm, the indentation at the base of each finger.
You look up to see Charles watching you, his expression soft and affectionate. Impulsively, you lift his hand to your lips and place a kiss along his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before he smiles.
“I don’t think that’s part of the medical curriculum,” he says, his voice low.
You grin. “Just conducting some independent research.”
Charles lifts his other hand to lightly trace his fingertips along your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles along your skin.
“Well in that case, I think you need to continue your in-depth examination,” he murmurs.
Your pulse quickens as his fingers trail down your neck and along your collarbone. Gently, he turns you around so your back is to him and sweeps your hair over one shoulder. You shiver pleasantly at the feeling of his hands gliding along the slopes of your shoulders.
“It’s important to know the trapezius muscle,” he says close to your ear. His fingers skim down from the base of your neck, tracing the borders of the trapezius down toward your shoulder blades. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation.
“Mmm yes, very important,” you breathe.
His hands span across your upper back, gently kneading into the muscle. You let out an appreciative sigh, the tension you’ve been carrying in your back dissolving under his touch.
Charles places a kiss to the curve of your neck as his hands work their way down your spine, counting each vertebrae.
“The vertebral column is quite elegant, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. You hum in agreement, eyes still closed.
When his hands come to rest just above your waist, your breath catches in anticipation. His touch is driving you crazy but you don’t want him to stop.
Slowly, he slides his hands around your waist to your stomach, splaying his fingers possessively across your abdomen. He pulls your back against his chest until no space remains between you.
“How am I doing as your study partner?” He asks, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“Mmm, top of the class,” you reply a little breathlessly.
He grins against your skin. “Maybe we should move this study session somewhere more comfortable.”
You turn around to face him, draping your arms lazily around his neck. “I’ll have to clear my schedule. My boyfriend’s this really busy, important Formula 1 driver, you know.”
Charles smiles, leaning in close until his nose brushes yours. “I think he can make time for you.”
He closes the remaining distance, bringing his mouth to yours in a kiss that curls your toes. You melt into him, all thoughts of anatomy and studying dissolving from your mind.
In this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. The chaos of life fades away and you’re reminded why you endure the challenges of his demanding career.
Because at the end of the day, you have this — your love, steadfast and true. The rest of the world falls away and you’re home.
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spencereidluver · 5 months
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B is for Boy Genius?
summary: You outsmart Spencer in one of his most talented subjects: Poker. Derek officially removes his "Boy Genius" title, effectively aggravating sans-poker-champ Spencer. And someone is a little hot when he's angry...
word count: 2k
warnings: none really, some friendly bullying of Spencer by Derek but nothing that isn't normal in the show.
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“Straight flush.” Spencer says with a grin. He’s been in the BAU going on 5 years, and has yet to be beaten at poker by anyone.
“Oh, Spencer,” you lean in toward him and flatten your cards on the table. “Royal. Flush.”
“What? No way.” He speaks before he can even look at your cards. “Oh my god.”
“How’s it feel to be beaten at your own game?”
“I want a rematch. Outside dealer.” He passes the deck to Derek, who is sitting at his desk across the aisle. 
“Pretty boy got beat, huh?” Derek says, beginning to shuffle the cards. He deals them out, planting a little kiss on the last card he hands you. “Good luck, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart is what Derek has called you since you joined the team. At first you thought it was a little weird, but by now you’re used to it. And to be honest, it’s one of the more normal names he calls his coworkers. So you lucked out there. 
You see Spencer smirk, he probably has a good hand. Well, maybe not. He’s always had a pretty good poker face, no pun intended. 
“What’s going on?” Rossi says as he makes his way out of his office to see Derek, JJ, and Emily all surrounding you and Spencer. 
“Oh, pretty boy and girl genius here are having a poker-off.” Derek says. That’s the first time you’ve ever been called girl genius, it makes you feel a small tingle in your stomach. You look up at the former boy genius in front of you, he’s got a rosy blush on his cheeks and spreading across his nose and down his neck. His pupils have dilated. Oh... Maybe he’s just nervous. . .
“Spencer here just lost his first poker game.” Emily says, giving him a pat on the shoulder. It makes him jump. 
“First and only.” Spencer testified. He clenches his jaw, making a small dimple appear. “Full house.” He slams his cards down and looks toward you with a smile. 
You click your tongue. Rossi has now appeared and is watching from behind Spencer’s shoulder. Locking eyes with him, you slide his cards to the side. “Four of a kind.” you say as you sit each card down one by one. 
Spencer’s eyes all but come out of his skull. Derek erupts in laughter, “Dethroned,” he manages to say. He ruffles Spencer’s hair. “How’s it feel having a new genius around?”
“I’m impressed.” Spencer tells you, ignoring Derek’s provoking remarks. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Oh you know, picked it up during my college years.” You say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a half-mouthed smirk. 
The crowd of your coworkers fades out, and everyone gets back to work. Your desk being directly across from Spencer’s, you see him studying the cards through the pile of binders and Manilla folders between the two of you.
“I still can’t believe you won. Twice,” he looks up from his desk to say. 
“You just can’t give up the crown, can you, Spence?” You respond. 
_____
You get up from your desk to go get your lunch from the breakroom. With a morning filled with poker and getting a solid new nickname, you’ve worked up quite an appetite. Upon opening the door, you bump shoulders with JJ, who is making her way out. 
“Woah there, girl genius,” she says. “Watch where you’re going there.”
“Sorry JJ, the genius doesn’t come equipped with self-steering.” You joked. 
Spencer is standing at the counter stirring a coffee. His head turned toward you as you walked in the room, causing him to lose control of his hands and the coffee-coated spoon went flying. 
“Nor hand eye coordination.” Emily laughs from the table in the corner. 
“Shut up.” Spencer mumbles, wiping the small mess he made up with a paper towel. “You know, the average win rate for professional poker players is only 47%.” 
“Well, as of right now, y/n’s is 100.” Emily pats his shoulder once again as she walks past him and out the door, leaving you and Spencer alone. 
“I don’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal of this little poker thing.” He says, a little annoyed.  
You walk behind him and open the fridge. “It’s all in good fun, Spence. We all know you’re still the smartest by a long shot.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Like, why has everyone been bringing it back up. I lost a game, big deal.”
“I think everyone is just surprised is all. I mean, you haven’t lost a game in five years, Spence. That's a long time.”
“Not really. Considering most of the people here are in their thirties, that’s only 1.5% of their life-“
You interrupt him. “But, they’ve only worked here since they were about 25, making that their entire time here.”
Spencer’s mouth drops wide open. He cannot believe you caught that. Especially before him. “I- Wow. I guess you’re right." He looks defeated, tensing his shoulders and taking a heavy breath.
"You're still the smartest person I know, Spence." You try to make him feel better. The corners of his mouth turn up in what would not quite be classified as a smile. "And the whole team agrees with me, they're just trying to get under your skin."
He giggles and makes a disgusted face. "Ew. You didn't have to word it like that, y/n. I've lost my appetite." He pushes his coffee away and grins.
You quickly grab a straw from the small four compartment organizer to your right, sticking it in the cup and taking a sip out of it. You swallow, blinking aggressively. "Spencer, how many sugars did you put in here?" He'd been autonomously opening and pouring in sugar packets since the conversation began.
He glances in the small garbage bin beneath his feet. "Um, thirteen." He says, pressing his lips together forming the "white people" smile.
_____
You walk in the office slightly later than your normal time. You took a detour to the local supermarket in order to pick up some yogurt for lunch, getting sidetracked by a t-shirt you found on the end-cap of an isle.
You grabbed the t-shirt and two bottles of coffee and hurried to the register, completely forgetting the yogurt you made the trip for in the first place.
As you reach your car, you toss your knitted bag, now filled with coffee and a t-shirt, into your passenger seat and quickly climb inside.
The office is about 2 minutes from the supermarket. As you drive, you play with the fabric of the black shirt peeking out of the bag. You wonder when you're going to have a chance to put it on.
As you pull into the parking lot of the BAU, you see Spencer hustling in. He must be running late. Odd. He was never late. Never. You saw Spencer’s rare fault as the perfect moment, and slipped your sweater off in the driver’s seat of your car. You slid the black tshirt over your bra, pulling the button up sweater over your shoulders and fastening all but the top button. You grabbed your bag, sliding it over your left shoulder and exited your car, shuffling in. 
You met Spencer at the elevator, unsure how you both got there at the same time as he’d entered the building a good two minutes before you. 
“Good morning, Spence,” you said and smiled at him.
“Mornin’, y/n. How are you?” He responded.
“I’m good, how about you?”
“I’m okay, I was running late this morning and didn’t have time to get my coffee, but other than that I’m doing well.”
You thought about the glass bottle in your bag. You knew grabbing two would be a good idea. You looked up at the tall man, feeling small as he glanced down toward you. “I stopped by the market this morning, I picked up an extra coffee. I was going to just save it for tomorrow, but you’re welcome to have it.” 
“Oh, are you sure, y/n? Don’t feel like you have to give up your coffee because I was up all night.”
You wondered why he was up all night. What could’ve been on his mind that kept him up so late? You gestured the bottle over to him, smiling as he took it from your grasp.
“Thank you, y/n. I owe you for this one.”
The elevator door opened and the two of you began walking down the hall to the BAU room. Spencer opens his coffee, a satisfying “pop” sound as the seal of the lid breaks. You pull the glass door open and hold it for him as he takes his first sip. He scurries through and you follow, pulling your own coffee from your bag. 
“Well, well, well,” Derek announced loud enough the whole building could hear. “Look who finally decided to show up to work.”
“Shut up,” Spencer retaliated.
“I didn’t know coffee was on the new genius this morning. Where’s mine, y/n?” Derek joked, smirking at Spencer.
You could tell this one stung a little bit. Spencer knew it was all fun and games, but having his one strong suit, in his mind anyways, be taken away from him hurt. You rolled your eyes and hurried over to your desk, sitting your bag down on the files you’d yet to fill out. You looked up, expecting Spencer to be at the table across from you, but he wasn’t. He’d walked away. You sighed and got to work.
Spencer returned about half an hour later, sitting down at his desk without even acknowledging you. He began aggressively writing on his paperwork, so aggressively that his hand veins protruded and knuckles turned white. By the clench of his jaw, you knew he was probably a little upset by the interaction with Derek earlier, so you decided now would be the perfect time to unveil your purchase from this morning. 
You stood up, unbuttoning your sweater and slowly worked your way toward Spencer. You grabbed the deck of playing cards from his desk, drawing the man’s attention. He glanced up at you with a slightly raised eyebrow. Leaning down close to his ear, you whispered, “follow me.” 
He shivered as the heat of your voice hit the back of his neck, but obliged. You took him up the stairs to the half floor located in front of Hotch’s office. “Just go with it, okay?” You said to him. He looked confused, but nodded in agreement despite.
You loudly cleared your throat, attention from the floor below turned toward you. You held up the deck of cards. You made sure your shirt was visible and gently brushed your side against the man who stood next to you.
“I would like to re-declare Dr. Spencer Reid as certified office genius. After further research, he has proven himself worthy of the title.” You announced to the rest of the team who had their full attention on you. Spencer smiled.
“You’re too kind,” Spencer said, leaning down to take a peek at your shirt that he’d noticed you’d paid extra attention to. He couldn’t quite see it as half of it was wrinkled from the curves of your body and the guard rail was disturbing his view as he leaned forward. He grabbed your shoulders and gently twisted them to face him. His eyes met your breasts, despite knowing he was just reading the vinyl words, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up a little bit. You knew everyone in the office was watching you guys as well, making you even warmer. Spencer’s cheeks had a small hint of rose to them as well as he mouthed the words on your shirt.
“I’m with genius,” he whispered under his breath. A smile took over his face, but it slowly faded as he realized he was still holding on to your shoulders. He felt his cheeks grow red and he quickly pulled his arms back down to his side. 
You opened your mouth to begin speaking, but right when the words were about to come out, the door to Hotch’s office swung open and he came barreling through, files in hand.
“Sorry to ruin the fun guys, but we have a case.”
_____
next chapter: C is for Case by Case
_____
a/n: okay i guess that one was kind of boring too.. but i kinda wanna set some tension and some story lines before we just jump in you know... since this chapter was pretty long, the next chapter is going to be a short little filler chapter of a conversation with you, spencer, and hotch. I hope you guys are enjoying so far :)
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mrchiipchrome · 14 days
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Work
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W.C. - 1.2 k
a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)
———————
It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.
It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.
Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.
She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.
Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.
Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.
You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.
———————
Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.
Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.
“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.
“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.
‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.
But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.
Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.
“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”
“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.
Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.
There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.
Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.
“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.
It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.
“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.
“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.
Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.
“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.
“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.
It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.
You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.
And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.
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hockeybabe · 24 days
Text
Family Skate | M.Knies
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Not my gif
Parings: Matthew Knies x gf!reader
Summary: you and mattthew are new to the dating scene and he makes it official to the public by inviting you to the family skate.
Warnings: pure fluff, swearing, insecurities, kissing, slight cocky Knies, ngl rushed af
Word count: 756
Note: this has been in my drafts for a while. Also requests are open, send them in! And I saw Olivia Rodrigo!!!!
The moment you met Matthew, you two instantly clicked. You had lived in Toronto your entire life working for the leafs. To the team you were like their little sister and the John well you were like his kid. When the leafs called up Matthew you had lost your apartment and John was there to help you.
So gradually you lived with the Tavares residence, along with Matthew becoming professional babysitters for John and Aryne. But what the outside world didn’t know was that you and Matthew were a little more involved with each other than just friends. 
You were a couple. One that you kept away from the world because of people not always being accepting. It was your idea. You had seen it happen to so many and while they could handle it; you weren’t sure you could. However, after multiple talks with Aryne and other girlfriends, they finally convinced you to be shown off.
And what better to have it done at the family skate.
“Babe, you ready.” Matt called for you pulling on his jersey. “Yeah.” You said fixing you scarf and pulling your hair out. “How do I look.” You turned around showing him your outfit which consisted of a handmade leafs jacket with his name on it and black leggings. 
Matthew stared down at you with a cheeky smile gabbing you hands at your sides and leant down giving you a kiss. “You look perfect.” He mumbled. “We should probably get going.” He said heading for the door. As he walked away you slowly feel your nerves creeping up. Matthew notices you lack of presence.
“Y/n,” he calls out. “Everything alright?” He asks once you come to the door. “What if they don’t like me?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs. “Who’s not gonna like you?” He asks clueless making you groan. “The fans, you dummy.” You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. “What are they gonna do? You’re mine and I’m yours. They’re just gonna have to accept that.” He says, putting loose hair behind your ear.
“But-” “If they judge, they judge don’t let them tear you apart. I love you.” He says, opening the door. “I love you too.” You mumble. “What was that?” You groan, “I love you too.” You said louder. “That’s my girl.” He said, watching you exit the house and getting into the car.
Once you guys got to the rink, you trailed behind Matthew as he waved to the fans what you didn’t expect were the amount of fans calling your name. You had no clue how they knew who you were, but they were cheering for you.
“Looks like you don’t need to impress anyone.” Matthew turned around, looking down at you with a smirk. You gave him a smile, tightening your grip on his hand as you gave shy waves to the fans. When you finally got to the rink, you sat beside Steph. “Looks like they love you.” She commented.
“Could be a facade.” You shrug. “Fans are brutally honest about liking people. I guess they realized that because you've been dating for a while, then there’s nothing they can do.” She said as she watched Mitch and Matthew grab their girl's skates.
“Hi baby,” Matt said, kneeling down and tying your skates as you told him when it was tight enough. “You know you’re going to be dragging me everywhere, right?” You laugh. Matthew chuckled, “I got you.” Once your laces were fully tied, you took his hands and walked to the rink.
Matthew set foot into the ice first and took your hands, holding you tightly as you slightly wobbled in his grasp. “You doing great.” He cheered as he strides across the ice, pulling you with him. When the two of you passed close by the fans, they’d gush about how cute you two looked.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look with rosy cheeks?” He smirked, making you blush. “I would slap your chest, but I’d probably fall.” You grunt. “And now you’re saying you’ll fall for me. How great.” He gave you a goofy smile, making you groan.
“Thank you.” You said to him. “For what?” He asked, confused. “For letting me see past the negatives. I love you.” You said quietly. “What was that?” He said, leaning down. “I love you.” “I love you too.” He responded by leaning down giving you a kiss as the other players' sticks clacked with the ice as they cheered with their partners. 
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jingsyuans · 1 year
Note
HIIIII! may i request for jing yuan teasing reader so much that they ended up kissing him??? and they’re still not in a relationship so pining and stuff 🥹
a/n: thank you for your request 🤍
no pronouns or gender described for reader.
⚝──⭒─ Jing Yuan ; tease ─⭒──⚝
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The Xianzhou Luofu is a peaceful place. Under impressive calculation and insight, the ship was led with a steady hand that knew how to avoid meaningless bloodshed and keep your kind’s goal ever so close. To live miraculously, not needlessly.
But that’s not to say the general leading the ship was without his own faults and quirks.
Out of all the places you’ve traveled in the Xianzhou alliance, you find yourself most satisfied when you’re stationed on the Luofu. It’s peaceful here. The general, however, was an entirely different story.
You could name at least five different general’s in the alliance that were more professional and easier to handle than Jing Yuan. And there were only seven general’s total.
It’s not that he was a bad guy. No, that wasn’t it at all- you think rather highly of Jing Yuan and you trust his leadership and judgement. It’s just when it came to personal matters and your own relationship with him, it was… how do you put it into words?
A sudden wisp of air blows by your ear and you startle out of your thoughts, nearly falling out of your seat. But two hands steadily hold the back of your chair, a pair of lips smiling next to your ear. “Miss me, lieutenant?”
“Jing Yuan!” You snap your head back to look at your general, who looks a little too happy with your reaction. As always. With a hand moving up to your ear, you growl at him- “I told you to stop doing that!”
“But you startle so easily, lieutenant,” he bemoans, moving some of his weight onto the back of your chair and making you unsteady. “I’m only worried for you. You should always be on high alert, I’m merely helping you.”
“Blowing on my ear while I focus on paperwork that you should be doing isn’t helping,” you deadpan. He doesn’t look bothered by your attitude, just smiling along with a sigh.
“Hmm… maybe you’re right.”
This was the sort of relationship you had with him, which you could of never expected. Jing Yuan just loved to mess with you, finding you during his spare time and poking at all your buttons to rile you up. And it’s honestly not all that bad, just childish games, but…
But he was your superior, and… he’s Jing Yuan, someone that’s undeniably powerful and attractive. Having all his attention on you, looking at you like that- it’s just not fair. That’s why you tried to put your foot down several times, but he never quite listened to you.
Infuriating. He’s beautiful and infuriating and there’s really nothing you can do about it.
So your weeks are always hectic, despite the overall peace on the ship. One day, your general is calling you over to share lunch with him only to make you sit still while he feeds you portions of his food (you hated that, he stared at you so intensely the entire time and you still have no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve by that), and then the next he’s dragging his fingers across your back and making you shiver, and when you look back he’s got his hands at his sides and playing innocent.
But you know he’s anything but innocent. He’s playing with your heart at this point, and you just keep letting him.
Except now… now you might be losing it a little bit.
His games with you had been endless recently. You aren’t sure what made him wake up one morning and decide to mess with you nonstop, but you’re starting to lose sleep over it. The- the blowing in the ear? It wasn’t even the start of his nonsense.
He’d trip you while you walked just to catch you in his arms, he’d make you sit with him while he did paperwork and all he’d do is stare at you the whole time. He’s even started to call you loving names.
Maybe that was your limit. When he started calling you sweetheart, dear one, darling. That was just too cruel, teasing you with what you could never have. Giving you the picture of reciprocation and love that could never be.
You wanted to settle this matter diplomatically. Sit down with him, tell him you were uncomfortable, and you knew Jing Yuan would stop. His games were supposed to amuse (him, mostly, but still) and not hurt. If he knew you felt bent out of shape about it, he’d take a step back.
But then he just did it again before you could even start. Right when you approached him at his desk, his golden eye gleaming and he leaned forward with his arms on his desk, hands clasped together.
“Oh, there you are, dear. You know, I was just thinking about you.” He smiles at you in that way he does, when he says things he doesn’t mean.
You try. You try to stay civil. “General Jing Yuan, I just need you to know that-“
“General Jing Yuan?” He interrupts you completely, eyebrows flying up his forehead. “Using the full title huh? I thought we were closer than that, or maybe you’re really serious.” Getting up from his chair, he starts to round the desk.
You clench your fists at your sides. “General, I-“
“You really can’t use my name?” Jing Yuan fully rounds the desk, approaching you slowly with an amused expression on his face and hands behind his back. He still thinks this is a joke. “I know you can. Drop the title. Your general demands it, if that’s what it takes.”
“… Jing Yuan, I want you to know that-“
“Ah, there it is. My name’s never sounded sweeter,” he smiles gleefully, and once he’s in front of you, he chuckles. “Alright. Thank you for adhering to my request, lieutenant. What do you need?”
You stare at him. You stare and stare and stare, because words have escaped you and suddenly you’re just angry. Angry at him. Angry at yourself.
Angry about the fact you want him so bad.
And as an amazing tactician as Jing Yuan is, somehow he doesn’t realize you’re angry. He just leans into your space, that coy look still on his face as he tilts his head. “At a loss for words, lieutenant?” He asks. “You’re not falling for me, are you?”
That’s it. That’s it! He wants to play married couple? Fine. He gets the whole package deal, then.
In what could only be a moment of insanity, your hands raise to hold either side of his face, tilting his head so he’s at your height when you swoop in and kiss him. And oh, you put your everything into that kiss. All your weight, your energy, your anger. You can feel Jing Yuan’s body tense under your touch when you first put your lips on his, a muffled sound of surprise escaping his mouth before you swallow it up. Taking multiple steps closer to him until you have him against his own desks, his hands grasping onto the surface to keep himself steady as you kiss him full.
You only stop once you need a breath of air. And once the air comes in and reaches your brain, you realize all at once what a complete idiot you are. You just kissed your general. Your superior.
You kissed Jing Yuan, who’s looking at you with his eyes blown wide open and his chest heaving to take back all the air you stole right out from under him.
It’s almost funny. He’s always so composed- you’ve never seen him look like this before.
It serves him right.
“I want you to stop teasing me, Jing Yuan,” you finally muster the courage to speak, knowing that he’s listening to your every word now. He’s paying more attention to you than ever before. Your hands still holding the sides of his jaw, you take a deep breath and will yourself to step away, bringing your hands away from him as you give him a hard look. “Stop saying things that you don’t really mean.”
Because then I might just kiss you again.
Your general blinks once, as if to reset his point of view, and he grows lax against his desk. Looks at you in a way you can’t really describe. “That’s fair,” he rasps, clears his throat. A hand wandering up to his jaw and smoothing over the skin. “I won’t say things that I don’t mean.”
“…Good.” Nodding curtly, you move to turn on your heel, thoroughly mortified with yourself for having done such a thing before Jing Yuan speaks up again.
“Though, maybe we got off on the wrong foot… because I don’t ever recall saying something that I didn’t mean, lieutenant.”
You turn back to look at him slowly, your eyebrows furrowed. You almost want to get angry again, but can’t find it in you. “What?”
He merely huffs through his nose in amusement, familiar smile creeping on his lips. “I don’t mind repeating myself, but not unnecessarily. You know that.”
“But you-“ this can’t be right. He’s messing with you again, isn’t he? “But you call me those names, and make me eat your food, and stare at me, and-“ he’s approaching you now. “And you touch me, and-“
There’s no reason for Jing Yuan to go to such lengths and tease someone he didn’t care about. He likes to waste his time, yes, but he only does so because he plans ahead. He sees things before they come and plans for the outcome and sets it in motion before people even realize what’s happening. Before you realize what’s happening.
You’re in his arms, swept up under his gaze just like always as he leans in and surrounds you with him. Him, only him. Eating up all your attention just like always. You’ve played right into his hands. Maybe not the way he exactly expected, but the outcome was what he was aiming for all the same.
“You want me,” you whisper. This time it’s your voice that’s a little hoarse. And Jing Yuan just smiles at you, so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on your cheeks.
“Immensely, dear.”
It seems that even after all this time that you’ve been alive, chasing after destiny… you still have a lot to grasp,
Especially when it comes to Jing Yuan.
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
Text
The Rite of Movement | part two
“first impressions”
part one | honeymoonin’
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A/N: well, well, well, fancy that we’re all meeting up here, huh? 🥵 first, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl who has been feeding my brain rot all day. I appreciate you so so much and your input is extremely helpful 🥺 I do not have a lot of knowledge on the adult film industry, but I’m eager to dive into it with y’all. We all have our different preferences and tastes when it comes to porn, (if you choose to watch it) but for me personally, I’m into porn that is catered to women. And guess who else is? Joel fuckin’ Miller! I hope these impromptu drabbles give you all the warm, fuzzy, and hornknee feelings. In this household, we support sex workers 💗 we also support healthy communication during sex, safe sex, and sexual liberation for everyone. Thank u also to @strang3lov3 for the title 🤍
~word count: 5.0k~
Summary: it’s your first time meeting Joel Miller, your new adult film partner
Pairing | pornstar!joel miller x pornstar f!reader (and a sprinkle of pornstar!tommy miller. More to come in later chapters!)
Warnings: 30s reader/40s joel, general discussions of the porn industry, brief discussions of workplace trauma, mild swearing, kissing, slightly inappropriate workplace relationship, boss/employee power dynamic but it’s only lightly explored in this chapter, voyeurism, light smut, f!masturbation, reader has no physical descriptions, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol consumption, +18, minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!
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When you moved back to Austin Texas looking for a fresh start after a rather rocky experience doing unsatisfying pornos as a regular on screen talent for the mega studio, Brazzers, you never expected to rejoin the industry through a professional studio. After being fired, you settled on making solo amateur films in an attempt to pay your bills and make ends meet. The only problem was rent in LA was nowhere near affordable, and the pay was significantly less than you’d been bringing in from the studio. That’s when you made the decision to leave the state of California entirely, looking eastward towards a once-familiar home.
Your roots were in rural Texas, and although your parents ultimately disowned you for joining the adult film industry, you still had a support group of fellow transplants in Austin that had missed you terribly.
The porn industry was always evolving, but with these changes came an influx of new content. You had a decent following for a small time account, but without the promotion budget that came with films produced at larger studios, your homemade solo films were inevitably pushed to the bottom of the pecking order, making it difficult to expand your audience. You thought about quitting entirely and getting an everyday job as a receptionist at some corporate office, until one night you stumbled upon a channel account that was based in Austin. “Miller-Co, Real people, real sex, professionally produced for your pleasure.” Surrounded by unpacked moving boxes on your single, sad, sofa, you poured yourself a tall glass of wine and clicked on the first video that appeared on the channel’s page, its male lead catching your eye immediately and you clicked the video details to find his name.
Joel Miller was big in every possible sense. From his hands, to his biceps, to his strong thighs. His cock was stunning. It wasn’t the longest cock you had ever seen, but it was deliciously thick, a girth that had you salivating immediately. Not only was it big, but the more you watched, the more you learned he sure knew how to use it. Despite Joel’s brooding nature, his attentive care to his partners on screen was something you had never seen before. He was a talker, a praiser and it seemed he only did scenes in positions where he could see his partners face while they came. The studio lighting was softer, inviting, and very, very intimate.
You clicked through more videos. Joel’s apparent brother, Tommy Miller, was also a big talker, but he reminded you more of a sweet frat boy with some serious golden retriever energy. In simple terms, Tommy liked to pound it. His style seemed more physically intense and fun, lighthearted even. He could do more sensual, intimacy based scenes, but that was more Joel’s forte, you gleaned as you continued to consume their content. Tommy’s cock had an inch or so on his brother, but his cock wasn’t as thick. What it lacked it girth it made up for with how it was curved, and you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to hit that spot inside of you that sent you keening.
The more you watched these two brothers in their element, the damper your flimsy panties grew. It had been so long since you had gotten off while watching porn that you weren’t even sure if you could have a successful orgasm from it. Boy, were you wrong.
Your clit was soon overstimulated and pulsing beneath the soft silicon of your vibrator. You tossed the toy to the side and paused the video while you caught your breath for a few minutes, coming down from your high. A sense of post-orgasmic clarity settled in your mind and something was telling you that working for this channel’s studio might end up being your calling. A wonderful, horny twist of fate. Your ticket back into the industry that had left you both emotionally and physically bruised.
You couldn’t help the gleeful giggle that slipped past your lips the further you scrolled down the channel’s main page, looking for information on Miller-Co’s parent studio, and discovered a link at the bottom: Auditions.
You scrambled to update your resumé, and threw together a portfolio of your past work and clicked on the link. You submitted your application and downed the rest of your wine before closing the screen to your laptop with a decompressing sigh.
No one could say that you didn’t try.
On the other side of town Joel Miller was just closing up the studio for the evening to meet Tommy at their usual watering hole for a drink. His phone buzzed, notifying him that he had a new email and while he walked to his truck, he opened the email.
He had been recently looking for a new film partner outside of his current talent pool. Things were going well at his and Tommy’s boutique adult film studio, they were starting to see growth, and that meant making sure there was regularly fresh content for their growing audience.
Despite receiving 100s of applicants a day from his online posting on his studio’s PornHub channel, none of them were quite what Joel was looking for..until he opened up your application. Joel got a sudden overwhelming feeling in his chest that you were exactly the type of on-screen partner he was looking for. He exited out of the email and sent a quick text to Tommy. Hey, I'm gonna be a few minutes late. Got an applicant that I think will be perfect.
After sending the text to his brother, he opened the email once more. Your resumé was brief, and a noticeable frown crossed over his face when he saw that you were ex-Brazzers. When Joel was 18 and fresh to the industry, he worked for Brazzers. Being so green, he hadn’t known what exactly to expect, so he suffered through in the name of independence and regular pay, but he had hated it, and especially hated the way it made him feel. The culture there had led him to never wanting to partake in making that type of porn again. There was no emphasis on the comfort of his female partners, little to no communication between the actors, and Joel ultimately was uncomfortable with following through with the things he was requested to do. Half the time it didn’t even feel good. And what the hell is the point of making porn if both participants aren’t having fun and feeling pleasure?
For this reason, he felt wrong viewing the content that you had made with Brazzers. Given his prior experience, he could only imagine what you had gone through, and he didn’t want to see you that way. His business was solely based around respect, consent, and comfort as a top priority.
He opted to view your solo amateur content instead. You were a natural, and he knew that he could easily make you a star, if that’s what you truly wanted. Joel knew that mixing pleasure with business, in this industry in particular, could end up messy, but he never felt so physically and emotionally attracted to another human being till now.
His fingers worked fast on the screen as he responded to the email.
Hello,
It’s after working hours for me, but I just went over your application. You’re a natural, and I would be extremely interested in meeting for an official audition. Here is the address to the studio, and my personal work number.
I am off tomorrow, but if you are interested, I can go ahead and schedule a meeting for noon?
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Joel Miller.
He receives an email response from you five minutes later just when he starts the engine of his truck.
Hello Joel,
I would absolutely be interested in coming in for an official audition tomorrow. Noon works for me as well.
See you then!
He lets out a sigh of relief at your response and despite his goal to remain professional, he can’t help the flush that rises to his cheeks at the thought of filming with you. He sends a calendar invite to your email address with the meeting time of noon tomorrow. He tosses his phone into the cup holder and finally drives to the bar.
“She’s ex-Brazzers. Moved all the way from LA just like you and me.” Joel discusses with Tommy over a beer. He takes a sip from the rim and slides his phone across the table to the opposite end of the booth where Tommy is sitting.
“And she’s only been doing solo amateur content as of late?”
“Yeah, she’s only got a few videos up, but it sounds like she’s ready to dip her toe back into the industry. She’s a natural, Tommy. Real captivatin’ on camera.”
Tommy glances down at your application and lightly taps out a bit of ash from his cigarette in the ashtray resting near his elbow. “That so? Well, guess I’m just gonna have to see for myself jus’ how captivatin’ she is.” He looked over at his brother with a knowing grin and pulled out his earbuds from his jacket pocket and slipped them in.
Joel intently observes his brother watching one of your solo films and when he sees Tommy reach down to adjust himself, he couldn’t help but grin.
Tommy’s cheeks have a bright flush to them as he hits pause on the video, taking out one of the earbuds and makes direct eye contact with his brother. “Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous. Those eyes? Brother, I feel like I was being sucked into the screen! God, and her little whimpers? The way they kept gettin’ higher and higher—” Tommy said animatedly.
Joel feels a twinge of jealousy zip up his spine like he was shocked. Tommy’s never been shy, and neither has Joel, but he’s already feeling protective over you and he hasn’t even met you yet. “Yeah, she is a thing of beauty, ain’t she? I don’t know what it is about her, but I love her energy.” Joel comments thoughtfully.
Tommy, being the horndog that he is, can't help but look back down at the screen and the part where the video has paused. Your thighs are spread wide, fingers playing with your clit, teasing yourself while making occasional direct eye contact with the camera. “And god, that pussy? Y’ever see somethin’ so pretty? Bet she tastes like fuckin’ honey.” Tommy drawls.
“Tommy.” Joel snaps his fingers in front of his face in a quick motion. “Don’t go gettin’ too excited now. I’m the one meetin’ with her.” Joel gently reminds him.
“Well, I can see why ya like her so much already, Joel.” He winks and slides the phone back in his direction. “Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist. I think just based on this single video, she’s gonna be a good fit. On a serious note, I hope that Brazzers didn’t fuck her up too much.” He reaches for his beer and takes a sip.
“It’s her energy man, it’s infectious. She seems so gentle, soft, but you can tell that she knows exactly what she wants just by looking into her eyes alone.” Joel said rather dreamily.
“Y’gonna give ‘er the ole Joel Miller razzle dazzle then?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully with a chuckle.
Joel rolled his eyes and flipped him off before taking another sip of his beer. “All depends on her comfort level during our first interaction. I want her to know that she gets to call all the shots.”
Tommy tips his beer towards Joel in a mock salute. “And yet they say chivalry is dead.”
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At first you wonder if Miller-Co is just another too good to be true scam and Joel had played you, providing you with the wrong address on purpose. Maybe this was a sign for you to never try studio work in the adult film industry again. You were standing outside of a hardware store, triple checking the address while simultaneously looking up at the sign: Miller-Co
Joel is sitting behind his desk when he sees you teetering around outside. He checks the time on his watch—quarter to noon—and smiles. He’s a punctual person himself and always had this philosophy of showing up earlier than planned out of respect for everyone’s valuable time.
He gets up from his desk and walks towards the door just as you’re turning on your heel to walk away.
The door swings open behind you with a sweet chime, and then you hear the raspy timbre of his voice, his smooth southern accent that already has you feeling weak in the knees.
“Are you my 12 o’clock?” He grins a boyish grin that oozes a level of natural confidence and charm that men dream of possessing.
“Oh.” You laugh and fiddle with the strap on your purse. “I totally thought I had the wrong place for a second there.”
“Sorry ‘bout the confusion, darlin.’ Folks ‘round these parts can be…sensitive to what we’re doing here. Gotta be sure they ain’t have a clue what they’re walkin’ by, be discreet, y’know?” He holds the door open with his shoulder effortlessly, and you get a good look at his handsome features. Joel Miller is tall, well-groomed, and there’s something immediately comforting about him. You can’t quite put your finger on what that thing is, but it might have to do with the selfless energy that radiates from the depths of his soft, espresso colored eyes. Or maybe it’s the endearing heart-shaped patches in his gray speckled beard.
“Oh, thank god!” You laugh again, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, and he chuckles. Something flickers in your eyes that Joel registers as unabashed curiosity. He clocks the slight hitch of your breath, your pupils dilating.
“I take it you’re probably used to dingy warehouses, unkempt garages, and the occasional sketchy office building?” Joel quips. He slips one of his hands into the faded pocket of his denim jeans.
“Yeah, how did you know?” You retort with false sarcasm and a small smile.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Lucky guess?”
“Well, you didn’t not hit the nail on the head, Mr. Miller.”
You swear you see him blush, the tops of his cheeks turning a flushed pink color. “Oh, please, call me Joel, darlin’. Mr. Miller makes me feel so..old.” He laughs and subtly gestures to the open door. “And hope ya don’t mind me sayin’ this, but ain’t you jus’ the sweetest n’ prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on.” He winks. “Shall we?”
“Oh, please, you aren’t old at all, Joel,” you brush away his self deprecation as his compliment leaves you feeling flustered, the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. “So, your videos weren’t lying then? You really are a sweet talker?” You flirt back.
“Some days I feel like I am, got a bad back and ‘a that. And, oh, I am quite the sweet talker, darlin’.” He holds the door open for you as you slip past him, brushing up against the rough denim of his jeans due to his sheer mass taking up most of the entryway.
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when your eyes zone in on an all-to familiar black leather couch pressed up against the side of the wall. He notices your immediate discomfort and hesitation and clears his throat alongside you. “We uh—don’t film anythin’ on that, darlin’. It’s there more as a joke than anythin’.”
He sees you visibly let out a sigh of relief as your shoulders relax. You don’t see his face, but his lips are set in a deep frown and he genuinely feels bad. “There’s no leather couches or bright, headache inducin’ lights where I film, darlin’,” he adds softly and steps around you to pull back the chair at his desk.
You’re not even sure what to think or say as he pulls the chair back and you quietly sit down and watch as he sits across from you. “Hey, before we get into talkin’ business, I’m aware that you worked for Brazzers at one point, saw it on the application you submitted, and I jus’ wanted to let you know that me sayin’ ‘lucky guess’ back there was to ease your nerves. I understand what it’s like coming from that world, could tell that you were feelin’ a bit apprehensive, and I didn’t wanna jump right on into discussing your portfolio out in the open, y’know?” He held steady eye contact with you which was something that you normally would be intimidated by, but Joel wasn’t trying to make you feel small, his concern was genuine.
“It’s just been awhile for me since working there, but I appreciate you trying to ease the tension, Joel. I swear I’m not always this jumpy,” you add softly and he smiles.
“S’alright. I understand. I jus’ wanna start off by sayin’ that I want you to be comfortable, darlin’. That’s our first priority. We can film in the studio if you want. Now, personally, I never film here. All feels a bit too sterile for me; got a set up at home to film there. Feels more natural, but if you would rather be here, we can make that work.” He clicks a few buttons on the desktop mouse and pulls up your application so he has it to directly reference.
“Your first priority is that you want me to be comfortable?” The question tumbles past your lips and your pupils are blown wide. In past jobs your comfort was always pushed to the very bottom. It was viewed as insignificant and something that you were told you’d just have to suck up and get over. There was always a limited budget, which meant limited time, which meant little care given to anything other than hard and fast, turn and burn shoot days. And the studio executives cared about little except increasing profits year over year, so time and time again, you’d endured a lack of connection with your scene partners and set crew alike, never more than a quick direction thrown your way. No, comfortable was a far cry from what you were used to.
He’s not taken aback by your response at all. It’s something that he’s all-too familiar with, unfortunately. “Of course, darlin’. That’s the key to makin’ good porn, ain’t it? Both parties gotta be comfortable, otherwise the audience won’t feel connected to what they’re viewin’. All sex sells, but intimacy sells more.”
“I’m just not used to this kind of treatment, Joel. I honestly didn’t even believe that it existed in the adult film industry. The whole notion of comfort above all is just…new for me.”
“I know it is, darlin’,” Joel takes a breath before continuing, “I’m ex-Brazzers, too. Started there when I was 18, and left on my 30th birthday.” This was a piece of Joel’s past that was especially private, it came with baggage he still wasn’t entirely ready to unpack, and yet sharing this with you felt comforting for him.
“Oh my god, did they fire you too?” You lean forward in your chair feeling shocked that someone else in the industry shared the same awful experience as you did.
Joel’s heart shatters when he learns that you were fired. It makes him angry for you and the other women in the industry that were often released from their contracts for frivolous reasons. How could they let someone like you go? You have all the potential in the world with real, raw, talent, and on top of that, you were an absolute knockout. Those motherfuckers had a goldmine with you, and yet they couldn’t see what Joel sees.
“No, darlin’,” he frowns, “they didn’t. My brother and I made the decision to quit on our own. We stayed in LA for awhile with some old costars and made some amateur films before we moved back home to Austin, and started our own studio. I’ve strived to make porn that is catered to women. It’s a market that’s been largely untapped, and I’m lookin’ to shift the industry by showing how profitable it is,” he explains honestly. “And folks deserve to see real sex full of connection and intimacy and even sometimes some bloopers,” he chuckles. “It’s something that I’m incredibly passionate about, and that’s why it’s my utmost priority to make sure that you are respected and feel comfortable.”
You shrink in on yourself when the wave of sudden emotions hit and you don’t even realize your crying till Joel is getting up in a haste with a few tissues in his hand. His eyes are laced with concern as he crouches in front of you. “Hey, I’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean t’make ya cry. I jus’—know how harmful the industry can be, and ‘m tryin’ to build a safe space within it.”
Fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you try to laugh through the tears. You feel pathetic for breaking down in front of this man who you have only just met. He must think you’re a lost cause in the industry if you can’t even hold yourself together for more than five minutes. You sniffle as he gently brings the tissue upwards towards your face and gently brushes away your tears. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to turn into this blubbering fuckin’ mess.”
“Hey, ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, darlin’,” he coos. “Maybe we wanna get outta here for some fresh air? If you’d like? Know a nice quiet coffee shop jus’ down the street. How do you feel about that?”
You look at him through wet lashes and parted lips when you slowly nod. “Uh—yeah. That would..be great. I’m just not exactly comfortable in this environment,” you murmur.
“I understand. No hard feelin’s taken or anythin’. Would you like some help gettin’ up?” He offers you his freehand.
“You’re not..upset?” You question softly and grasp his hand in your palm as he gently helps you up from the chair. His palm is warm against yours and massive in size.
“Upset? No, not at all. I meant it when I said that your comfort is a priority, darlin.’” He affirms.
After you’ve composed yourself a bit, you let Joel lead the way to the quiet coffee shop down the street. He holds the door open for you and lets you pick a secluded table in the back. When you offer to pay for the coffees, he interjects with a small grin and shakes his head. “S’on me, darlin’. G’on now and make yourself comfy,” he nudges you gently towards the table.
It’s a depressing thought to have, but you think about how no man has ever treated you with the kindness and respect that Joel Miller has thus far. It’s the bare minimum, but you appreciate him for it deeply.
He returns with two lattes and places them on the table before taking a seat across from you. “Y’jus’ let me know when and if you wanna continue the conversation, alright? There’s no rush. I ain’t got anywhere else to be.”
You grasp the mug between your palms and let the warm steam wafting from the mug kiss your skin as you look over at him. “Well, I figured it would be okay with me to share with you a list of things I’m not comfortable with?” You lean over the side of the chair and reach into your purse to pull out a folded up piece of paper that you drafted up after submitting the application last night.
He nods and takes a sip of his latte. “Of course that’s okay for you to do. I’ve got a form for you to sign back at the studio that includes a section disclosing your limitations and your personal comforts. We like to keep it on file so we can prepare everyone before shoot day, that way there ain’t any accidental crossed boundaries.” He reaches across the table and gently takes the paper from you.
Despite everything Joel has told you thus far, you’re afraid that he’ll end up being judgemental based on your list. It’s pretty much everything that mainstream porn runs on: bondage, punishment, gang bangs, overstimulation, and anal to name a few. You’re already thinking of getting up from the table, and protecting what’s left of your ego when he sets the paper down, reaches for your hand, gently picks it up and kisses the back of it while looking into your eyes. “This is it? We can absolutely work with this, darlin’. Don’t you worry none,” he reassures you.
His lips against your skin are like two plush pillows. Soft, silky and it’s hard to not imagine what those lips would feel like pressed against either of your own. You expected shame, and instead were greeted with the complete opposite. He validated you, and that alone was making your head spin like a ferris wheel.
“I know you ain’t have any pleasant experiences in the industry, and that’s a damn shame. But I can promise you that you won’t have to worry about none of that with me. Okay, darlin’? Sweet girl, I’m gonna be honest with ya because that’s jus’ the kind of man I am. Y’got some serious talent that I think has been severely overlooked. I can make you into a real star if that’s what you want. I’m simply jus’ actin’ as a guideway for ya. And between you and me? I love my job, and I hope that maybe I’ll be able to turn those bad experiences you had into somethin’ good.”
Your eyes focus on his lips and their movement with each word that flows past them. Neither of you realize how close you’re leaning over the table till you can practically taste the hazelnut latte lingering on his tongue.
“Joel, I swear I heard every word you just said, and please tell me if I’m being unprofessional given the circumstances, but I really want to kiss you right now,” you breathe.
His brow raises and a dimple pokes through his cheek as a grin tugs across the corner of his lips. He chuckles softly, “Well, lucky for you, it’s totally appropriate given the circumstances. Jus’ one of the many perks of bein’ in this industry, darlin’. Unbridled desire is personally one of my favorite things.” He leans in closer, his tone dropping down to an octave that made you tingle with desire, and admits quietly, just for you, “If we weren’t here in this coffee shop right now, I’d show you just how unbridled my desire can be.”
You gripped the edge of the table for dear life. It took everything in you to not rip that man’s clothes off right then and there. That part of you that had laid so dormant was crackling to life again, and he could see those emotions swirling in your eyes. “Maybe we should get those papers signed so that you can show me if you’re really just all talk?” Your brow quirked upwards, mouth lifting into a flirtatious smirk just as his nose brushed against your own.
“Think you’ve seen enough to me to know that I ain’t bluffin’, darlin’.” His hot breath fans your lips as you reach across the table and rest a hand on his shoulder, the other steadying your balance on the table. Joel lifts his hand to your face and gently guides you by your chin. His lips brush yours, testing the waters while your tongue swipes confidently at his lower lip. He surges forward, hand moving from your chin to cup your face where your jaw meets your neck and deepens the kiss. You unconsciously let a soft moan loose, lost in the feeling, and Joel feels his cock come to life at the sound. It’s a good thing the barista behind the counter is too busy watching a YouTube video to see you and Joel practically gorging on each other's faces.
You can feel him smiling against your mouth before he leaves you with a final press of his lips and pulls back, sitting back in his chair, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he brings his thumb up to the corner of his lips and wipes away a stray strand of saliva. “Think I’m gonna get a little somethin’ to eat. Y’want anythin’?” He rasps and reaches for his wallet in his pocket.
“Yeah.” You grin and rest your chin in your palms. “Something..sweet.”
A flush rises to his cheeks as he stands up from the chair and discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans and you giggle at the sight. You’d think it was his first rodeo by how quickly he had grown hard from just kissing you. Then again, Joel did say that he loved his job. And if he treated the less significant parts of his job like that, you were more than looking forward to seeing, feeling, him do the other parts of his job he loved, too.
You sat in that coffee shop for hours getting to know one another. It felt like no time had gone by at all, and it was obvious that you both were feeling that spark of an immediate connection blossoming. There was no denial that you and Joel were physically attracted to one another, but you had no idea what doors were now opened because of this first meeting. The chemistry was palpable, electricity ricocheting off the walls, and that unspoken language between one another was apparent.
“Hey, Joel? I think I’m ready to sign those forms now,” you spoke, wading through the building sexual tension.
“Perfect.” He grins. “Let’s go n’get ‘em signed.” He pats your thigh gently.
Once you’re back in the studio, Joel goes over every section of the documents and answers every single one of your questions with direct thoughtfulness and professionalism. You can hear your pulse beating in your ears when you sign the last page, clenching your thighs to abate the need growing between your legs.
“Now, there’s no rush to filmin’ anythin’ right away, okay? We don’t gotta dive head first if you wanna go home and process all of this, I completely understand. But, if you’re interested, I can give you my address and we can—”
“How about you drive me to your place instead?” You coyly interjected with a grin.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms lol)
Pairings: Gojo x reader; Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader
Word Count: 2,5k
Warnings: Gojo gets rejected lol, injury and death in Nanami's part, buying condoms in Megumi's part hehe, not proofread because I'm tired
Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut@arehzhera @mynahx3
Gojo Satoru
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It is a normal day at Jujutsu High for him. Meeting boring people with boring point of views in this boring room. Urgh, can it get any worse? Why does he have to be here?
Right, because he’s the strongest. He lets his head rest against the wall, allowing his eyes to close for a second. What will he do after this? Normally this would have been his day off, which always means going to the city and grabbing something to eat. Maybe he’ll try the new ramen place that just opened or those fluffy pancakes Nobara talked about earlier.
“You are Satoru Gojo, right?”
That voice, definitely a female one…He doesn’t know the person behind it, though. Why the hell is an unknown woman here? His eyes dart upwards.
For a second, he forgets how to breathe.
What a wonderful sight you are. Delicious curves well hid under that jujutsu sorcerer uniform, a gentle but professional smile decorating your remarkable face. Huh. That’s definitely not what he expected here.
“Who are you, gorgeous lady?” he purrs towards you while lifting himself off the ground.
Just as he suspected, he is more than a head taller than you, lingering over your delicate figure like a shadow. You are young, but not much younger than him. In your twenties, maybe? Who knows, girls these days always look older than they actually are.
You raise your eyebrows at the strange look on his face. So, this is the Gojo Satoru everyone talked about. “The strongest”, to be precise. You eye him up and down. Well, he’s quite tall, definitely with an athletic build. His posture screams confident in your face, that cheeky grin revealing that he in fact just tried to flirt with you.
Pathetic.
“I’m (y/n), a new jujutsu sorcerer chosen for the inner circle”, you explain briefly.
“I’ve never seen you around here. How does this come? I’d definitely remember that gorgeous face…”
“I’m gonna throw up…”, Utahime comments dryly.
You gift him with a cold smile before stepping a few steps in his direction, your cool eyes locking with his.
“Mr. Gojo, just let me make a few things clear before we work together. You are nothing more than a colleague to me. And while I do understand that you are gifted by birth with unimaginable power, you will never be anything else but a human being in my eyes. So please, refrain from flirting and do your job.”
Damn. Your words hit him with full force, leaving him speechless. You are a feisty one, that’s for sure. Not even your eyes betray your cool composure and the echo of your voice in his head. You really mean what you say. For the first time since he can remember, a woman rejected him.
You rejected Satoru Gojo.
“It’s only Satoru Gojo, no Mister. I always do my job, one way or another. Be assured of that.”
The way he smiles at you sends shivers down your spine.
But not in a good way.
Ew, what a creep. Does he always act like that around women? What a disgusting man. You can’t help but wonder about his reputation. Who on earth would voluntary fall for a guy like him? A jerk that thinks the world belongs to him? You can’t help but screw up your face at the thought of being alone with him. Oh god…
“Can you stop looking at me with so much dislike in your gaze?”
You tilt your head to the side, shaking yourself out of your trance.
“Sorry, you’re making it hard to me”, you reply before turning on your heels and stepping out.
Did you just let Satoru Gojo stand in the rain?
“Oh, this is gonna be fun…”, Utahime mutters out of the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.
You are the first woman in years that seems to hold up with his gaze, not being impressed the slightest by his gorgeous face. Finally a woman who can keep up with him, finally someone who doesn’t fold immediately by one look into his bright blue orbs.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Utahime. I have the last laugh”, Gojo comments with a grin.
What a pleasant surprise. Who is he to reject a nice challenge?
“I will get her to like me, don’t worry about that.
“You definitely won’t!”, you shout into the room.
Nanami Kento
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You don’t know how you ended up here. Deformed humans surrounding you along with screams, blood and death. You just wanted to enjoy yourself for a single night out with your friends on Halloween, dressing up as your favourite anime character.
And now you’re the only one alive, your friend’s dead corpses clustering the ground while you stare into the cold eyes of the monster in front of you.
Is this how you’ll die? God, you sill had so much planned. You were supposed to finally meet your parents tomorrow after not seeing them for three years. How will they react, hearing the news about what’s going on here at Shibuya? It would break their hearts, without any doubt.
But you’re so damn tired. Tired from being out all day, tired from getting chased, tired from desperately trying to run away. No, maybe it is time to accept the fate, to get along with the fact that you’ll die right here and now at Shibuya.
“Attention!”
A wave of blonde hair rushes past you before you are even able to comprehend what’s happening, slicing the monster in front of you into tiny little pieces. You get splattered in purple, glossy eyes widen.
What just happened? Who is this man? Did you maybe already die?
“Are you okay, Miss?”
Maybe all of this is just a dream. Yeah, one of the really bad ones. The ones that make you wake up dripping in sweat with your head in the clouds.
“Hey, look at me.”
The cool yet authoritarian tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up. That face…What a beautiful man. Not even the worry lines and his harden expression can change the fact that he is indeed attractive. Sweats drips from his forehead, the first button of his shirt opened.
“Did you get hurt?”
Slowly, you shake your head. Why is your mouth suddenly so dry, refusing its service completely? You must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the street while staring up at him without saying a single word.
Nanami signs. You look absolutely traumatized, so worn out by the fight that displayed itself in front of you that you seem lost at words. No wonder. Given the way you are dressed, you just wanted to enjoy your night. Were you here alone? Maybe you lost your friends here, innocent people who seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He should get going, collecting all survivors and push forward. But your terrified face…He has to do something.
“My name is Kento Nanami”, he begins while getting down at your height.
“You are safe, okay? I will get you out of here.”
You don’t know why, you don’t know how. But suddenly you start to cry, your whole body trembling. What on earth just happened? Why are these people dead? Who is responsible for that?
“I’m scared…”, you mutter.
Oh, you feel so pathetic, standing in front of a stranger while balling your eyes out. But you can’t help yourself. Crying seems to be the only thing you are able to do right now. Your friends, all these other people…Your eyes roam around the blood-covered floor, the pavement plastered in limbs and intestines. You feel like throwing up, fainting right on the spot. But instead, you stare blankly at the ground, body unable to move a single inch.
All of the sudden the stranger kneels down in front of you and embraces your hands with his. They feel warm, almost comforting while they stop your arms from shaking.
“Focus on me, okay?”
Your gaze meets his, the calm ocean of his brown eyes. Normally you would turn your head after a man like him, giggling about his gorgeous appearance with your friends. But right here and now, you have only eyes for the brown orbs in front of you.
“Let’s breathe together, okay? Breathe in…”
You take a shaky breath in.
“And breathe out…”
You let out your breath, repeating with him over and over again. Slowly but surely, your heart doesn’t seem to pound out of your chest, your senses return to you, even the trembling of your limbs comes to an end.
“What’s your name?”
“(y/n)”, you breathe out.
“(y/n), you did great here. Let’s get you away from this place, you’ve done enough. Will you follow me?”
“Yeah…I think that would be great…”, you mutter.
“I will look after you when all of this is over. Just ask for Kento Nanami. Is that alright?”
Kento Nanami, what a fitting name for the man who walks besides you while still holding your hand in comfort. How gentle he spoke to you this whole time despite his cool appearance.
“Thank you. For everything, Mr. Nanami…”
“Just call me Kento.”
Megumi Fushiguro
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It is absolutely dumb and makes no sense at all, but you don’t really care. This night is the best you’ve had since a long time, being out with your friends at summer break is a vibe you’ve missed so damn much these past weeks.
“Truth”, your best friend besides you picks when the bottle lands on her.
“Have you ever had a crush on someone way older than you?”, your other friend asks with a mischievous grin.
“Huh, who doesn’t? Guys my age just don’t hit the same.”
You giggle at her reply. It was obvious that sooner or later, the night would move into that direction. No wonder, given the fact that this is a girl’s night. What better way to celebrate that than with a good chat about each other’s love life?
“Fine, you’re turn.”
The bottle turns on the floor over and over until…
It lands on you.
“Truth or Dare, (y/n)?”
“You know what? I’ll take dare. Because all of your losers only pick truth.”
The girls around you laugh out, playfully beating your shoulder for your comment.
“If you’re this brave. I’ll have something special for you…Go to the gas station and buy…condoms.”
“Condoms?”, you repeat in disbelief.
“Of course.”
You jump up, straightening your clothes and shoulders.
“Nothing easier than that.”
Without thinking twice, you grab your wallet and jacket, leaving the house with the rest of the girls. The next gas station is only a few minutes away. Huh, how boring. Why is buying condoms embarrassing in any way? It doesn’t matter though. After passing such a big dare, you’ll get away with picking truth for the rest of the night. Maybe you will leave anyway when your drink is empty…
“See ya!” you shout towards your friends.
The warmth of the gas station hits you like a wall when you enter the shop, going straight into the back where the condoms have to be. Urgh, why does your head suddenly hurt so bad? You didn’t even drink that much, mostly water and that one cocktail from your bestie. Maybe it really is time for you to go to bed, after all, it’s far past midnight. You said you’ll only stay until 10 anyway, so no one should be mad at you. Damn, why is it so hot in here? You grab a pack on condoms, giggling at the dumb description written in the back.
Suddenly, you literally feel like hitting a wall. Just before your butt hits the ground with full force, a pair of hands pulls you back on your feet.
You feel completely dizzy, mind still trying to comprehend what just happened. Did you really run into a wall?
“Excuse me.”
“Huh?”
Your eyes dart towards, revealing the true wall. He is a boy, in fact. And what a handsome one. His black hair frames his delicate face perfectly, concerned eyes scanning your body up and down.
“Are you okay?”
He lets go of your hand. Huh, what a bummer, you could get used to that feeling.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”, you explain briefly.
As if in slow motion, both pairs of eyes dart towards your other hand. All colour drains from your face, your desperate attempt to hide the pack of condoms behind your body failing miserably.
Oh god, you want to be swallowed whole by the ground so badly. Why the hell did you have to meet a cute boy when doing some dumb dare?
The boy in front of you clears his throat and scratches his head uncomfortably while taking a few steps back. Is that blush creeping up his face?
“Sorry, I didn’t wanna…disrupt you…”, he mutters.
God, why does this have to be so awkward? Why does your very own face feel like its burning? You blink a few times against the rising embarrassment. Does he think…? Oh god. Please don’t.
“These…These aren’t for me…”, you stutter.
Why did you have to meet him right now? Why not on a nice walk to a café when being in a nice dress, why not at the library with a smart book in your hand? No, with your luck it was clear that you’ll meet the cutest boy you’ve ever seen while buying condoms at a gas station after midnight.
“Sure…I mean, it’s none of my business anyway. I mean we don’t know each other….”
“Yeah…right…I think I’ll go now…”, you mumble, already on your way to sprint past him.
You will never forgive your friends for missing an opportunity like this. Fuck, why does he have to be so damn cute? You feel like slamming your head against a wall.
Repetitive.
With full force.
“Hey uhm…It might be super awkward, but maybe meet at the park tomorrow again?”
Your eyes widen at his sudden request, catching you completely off guard.
“You…What?”, you stumble.
“Forget it…”
He is already on his way to walk past you when you grab his hand out of instinct, making him stop in his tracks.
“No, I would like that!”
“Oh”, he breathes out.
Why is he so surprised by your positive answer when you are the one who should be surprised by this sudden request? He really wants to see you again.
“Well, cool….I don’t wanna stop you from buying condoms any longer, so see you tomorrow?”
Your cheeks heat up all over again in an instant while you brush past him at light speed.
“Yeah…”, you mutter into your jacket.
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wannaeatramyeon · 5 months
Text
Jake Kim x Reader: Jealous
G/N. Silly + fluffy. Spawned from chatting with @steamedeggs, as always.
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"Who's that?"
Jake follows your eye line.
"Samuel Seo," He tells you with a sigh. Whether that's a result of their meeting on the Pier or something else you can't be sure.
"The famous Samuel Seo," you mutter.
You watch him gracefully fold his limbs into a fancy executive car and lament the shitbox Sinu has left Jake, "Oh damn, he's hot and loaded?"
Jake huffs a small exasperated laugh, curling his arm around your shoulders. "Some would consider him hot and loaded, yes."
You throw your boyfriend a cheeky grin, raking over his form with greedy eyes.
"Obviously not as hot as you, though."
"Obviously."
.
.
Listen, Jake does not lack confidence. Jake is secure. With his appearance, his personality, his finances- no wait, scratch the last one.
Bottom line: Jake is perfectly fine with himself.
Lua has called him egotistical and conceited at times, but that's besides the point. Vivi has commented that he's ugly to his face and he couldn't care less. (All the girls throwing themselves at him in the club certainly showed otherwise.)
Sometimes even you think it is grossly unfair. Jake has won the lottery in the looks and personality department. He is beyond charming, winning hearts wherever he goes. Not even his battle scars dull his shine, adding only a sexy and bad boy air to this giant golden retriever of a man.
Anyway, the point is-
It's hard to phase Jake. It's nigh on impossible for his jealousy to flare up.
Yet.
.
.
"What was that on his neck?"
"Whose?"
"Samuel Seo's."
"You mean his tattoos?"
"Huh, neck tattoos? That's bold."
Jake watches you type in neck tattoos, and if he isn't mistaken, you look impressed.
'What's impressive about neck tattoos?' He wonders, leaning over to look at the designs on your phone.
"You want me to get a neck tattoo?" He angles his head to show off his throat and your phone no longer holds your attention. You're desperate to sink your teeth in. Add your own markings.
"Or what about a face tattoo?" Jake grins, "Tear drop under one eye? Writing on the other cheek? Some big letters? Big Deal?"
Picturing his suggestion, you wrinkle your nose. "Definitely not-"
"'Cos I guess these aren't enough for you, huh?"Jake raises an eyebrow, one corner of his lips pulled up and flexing his biceps.
It's obnoxious but goddamn this man. Enough of his charm shines through that it's sexy, a touch silly, and a lot endearing.
.
.
"Does your friend actually need glasses?"
Jake mentally flips through the list of people he knows. Friend? With glasses? "Samuel?"
You nod.
"Probably. Not sure. He never wore them in Big Deal."
"So they're just for show? He's a poser?"
Jake chuckles at your words and shrugs.
"Hmm," you tap your chin, "It does make him look smart-"
"Samuel is smart."
"-and sophisticated. You want a pair?"
"C’mon," Jake looks at you with mock hurt and clutching his heart, "I already am smart and sophisticated."
"Sure you are."
"And I look it!"
"Absolutely."
"Hey!"
.
.
“You’re pretty tall, right?”
Jake blinks, because what a question. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes, except maybe professional basketball players.
“...Yes.”
“And Samuel is the same height as you?”
“I think so?”
“Huh.”
“What do you mean huh?”
“Nothing. Just… huh.” You begin to walk away but Jake grabs onto your arm and yanks you back. You fall into his chest with an ‘oof’.
“I’m not tall enough for you?”
“7ft might be nice. Maybe 8ft. Why not double digits. 10ft!”
“Yeah,” he laughs and rolls his eyes, “I’ll get right on that.”
.
.
Jake is sulky and pouty.
He knows you’re teasing. Messing around, playing. Hell, he teases you enough. 
Despite this. He is sulky and he is pouty.
"Jake..." you plop yourself into his lap, "You know I'm only joking right?"
He gives you a sidelong glance even as he angles his cheek for a kiss.
"I think you're the best," You give him a smooch. "Your tattoos are hot," Another smooch. "You're very smart."
"And sophisticated," he grumbles, though he makes no attempt to hide the smile creeping over his face.
"The most sophisticated!" You kiss him loudly on the lips this time. "You should teach people how to be as sophisticated as you are. Charge them a billion won each to listen to you talk about sophistication. And you’re the tallest. A giant. The biggest man to have ever existed. I don’t know how you fit that massive head through doors,” You squeeze his shoulders, “How do you even get this huge body in a building.”
Jake bursts into laughter at your ridiculousness. 
“I even love your awful death-trap that you call a car. With no air conditioning and no airbags and seatbelts that jam when they shouldn’t."
Jake clicks his tongue at you, "Now I know you're lying. Even I hate that stupid car. And it’s not mine."
“Ok,” you give in, “I do hate it.”
Jake’s face turns soft and tender. He pulls you close, until your foreheads are touching and you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “I think you’re the best and hot and smart and sophisticated. You’re not that tall and you don’t have a car... But you are mine though.”
“Yeah,” you agree, melting into his arms, feeling his heart beating in time with your own. “I am yours.”
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thatsexcpisces · 1 year
Text
Astrology observations pt.9 🌌💙🌀🦋
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Disclaimer: again, these are just my experiences and personal observations on things I’ve encountered, I’m not a professional astrologer or saying that these are always correct.
Virgo risings have such a naturally beautiful “clean girl” look or are a perfect example of the “clean girl” aesthetic
Gemini and Pisces mercuries have a true talent when it comes to lying. They’re amazing of thinking quick on their feet or making up lies to get out of something because their excuses are so damn CREATIVE
I’ve noticed that almost every Pisces moon has puppy dog eyes. (Especially the men) It’s so easy for me to spot Pisces moons or other water moons because they just have these adorable doe eyes or their eyes look like those of lost puppies idk how to explain it💀 this is specifically something I see the most in cancer and Pisces moons, Scorpio moon’s eyes are also “puppy dog” but more intense.
Ex.) Michael Jackson, kanye west, and Ben stiller all have their moon in Pisces and they just have THAT look. Yk what I mean?? 💀
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Capricorn Venus/Venus in 10h house people tend to kiss up to those who are popular or have some sort of prominent status because they want to be around people they think will make them look good
People with the same element of their rising sign tend to become friends or attract each other.
• For example, earth risings May tend to attract friends or become friends that have earth rising top. (Cap, Virgo, Taurus rising.) I’m a Libra rising and my closest friends have usually been other Libra risings and Aquarius risings.
People with Virgo in the big 3 are goody two- shoes
Most Libra moons I’ve met have luxurious or comfortable home lives like they may have a good relationship with their family and are the type to have an aesthetic home routine (ex. My friend has a Libra moon and her family always bakes together or they sit and watch a movie together at their mountain house and drink hot chocolate & shit like that lmao)
Pluto in 2h people truly are obsessed with their money and possessions. As someone with this placement myself, I can say that the most Pluto 2h thing I did was hide even the smallest amounts of money in the most secretive places so they wouldn’t be stolen, not sleep unless I found that necklace or top that I realized went missing, and literally got in the faces of people who owed me money until I got that shit back😭
why do so many sun in Scorpio men get rejected so much by girls😭 this is just something I noticed but most of them tend to feel unlucky in love either cause they’re very active pursuers when they’re interested in someone and sometimes come off a bit too strong and then they end up feeling insecure abt themselves after getting shut down by their love Interests. They’re so hot tho
Venus-Neptune aspect people: how’s it going idealizing and fantasizing about your crush that are really not as amazing as you’re making them seem?
Scorpio Venus people’s flirting style is staring at you intensely but not approaching you or saying anything
Leo risings and moons would rather swallow a jean jacket and DIE then to have people see them at their worst or see that stuff they’ve been bragging about and “good stuff” happening in their life that they talk about to people to impress them and be popular, is not actually true or happened lol. They’re always keep that perfect image of themselves to others
Capricorn risings have this face where it looks like they literally couldn’t care less about you or anything you’re saying. Or they just look bored of being in your presence and wanna leave
Don’t piss of a Gemini moon. They take revenge through their biggest strength: gossiping and then spreading that shit. They’ll have the whole building hate you a day later over some rumor they made up of you and managed to convince others is true
If you have Venus in your 12th house you’re gonna go through many karmic relationships in your life time
Libra risings can be the darkest or shittiest people on the inside but that Venus-ruled aura or just their looks or the way they carry themselves will literally make people delusional into thinking they’re an angel on earth
Pisces in big 3 culture is being told “why is your head always in the clouds? ” or “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Constantly because those daydreams will literally get the best of them
Aquarius And Capricorn men when they were younger give me the vibes of those nerds in school who literally don’t care what anyone thinks and won’t have an issue calmly roasting or talking back to a bully but would never be able to physically fight them instead they just use sarcastic and monotone sentences to win. 💀
Fixed sign moons especially Scorpio moons attract so many people who are possessive and obsess over them
If a Sagittarius moon feels betrayed by you or is angry with you to the point that you did something they can’t ever forgive, they won’t bother getting revenge or being upset and shady with you. They will simply just erase your existence from their life and forget about you. They can still act nice and behave normally with you but that’s only because they master indifference and the concept of acting like you just came and left, which will hurt you the most.
I swear Mercury in the 5h or 8h people house think about sex on a daily basis omg
Aquarius and Sagittarius Venuses always attract each other somehow. They’re a good pairing
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janeyseymour · 2 months
Text
Personal and Professional- pt 3
Part 1. Part 2.
An anon asked for this! There's a backyard barbecue being held, and you're a bit hesitant because no one has seen you as the alternative woman that you are outside of school. They also don't know about you and Melissa.
WC: ~2.3k
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Janine is organizing a backyard barbecue at Barbara’s house for the Abbott crew- and you are less than thrilled to be excited. It’s not that you don’t like your work crew, because that isn’t true; you’re dating one of them. It’s that you really would rather not have everyone commenting on your body and your… tasteful markings.
“C’mon, hun,” Melissa says softly as she lays with you that night. “I think it’ll be fun to let our hair down.”
“I really would rather not,” you sigh. “No one knows about my tattoos, and no one knows about us.”
“The tattoos aren’t a big deal- I think they’ll like to see that you aren’t as buttoned up as you like to play. And they don’t have to find out about us,” she smirks. “I can keep my eyes and my hands to myself when I want to- just like I do at school.”
“You came into my room today and ate me out during prep because you were too horny to focus on grading your kids’ last assignments,” you tell her.
“It takes two to tango,” she shrugs. “It was good though, wasn’t it?”
You push her off of you. “Shut up.”
“All I’m saying is, I can control myself if that’s what you’re worried about for this barbecue,” your girlfriend tells you.
So begrudgingly, you find yourself at this barbecue for the fourth of July. The redhead and you drive separately so as not to give anything away, and you arrive there far too quickly. When you pull up to the kindergarten teacher’s house, you’re impressed. You can smell the food cooking, you hear the music playing from the backyard, and you can hear your boisterous girlfriend already laughing it up with her work wife. You head into the fenced area after taking a deep breath.
“About damn time!” Melissa teases you as she winks from the pool. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show!”
She’s saying this to you playfully, but she really was worried you weren’t going to pull up to the party, especially since you’re arriving an hour later than her.
“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle nervously as you wrap your thin cardigan around your body subconsciously.
“Well what are you waiting for?” the redhead heckles you. “Grab a drink, and come on in!”
You know she absolutely loves to see you in your bathing suit, and she’s going to drool when she sees the tattoos that dance around your hips and ribcage. She won’t be able to contain herself.
“I’m actually good right now,” you chuckle. “But I’ll grab a drink. Mel, you want anything?”
“Just another beer,” she tells you.
Everyone else looks at you like you’re crazy for only asking the redhead. “Uh… anyone else?”
And that’s how you essentially become beer girl for the day. Finally, Barb has had enough.
“For the love of all things holy, Y/N,” she throws her arms in the air. “Let loose a little and show some skin! You have to dying in all those clothes!”
“I’m really okay,” you say softly as you wipe a bit of sweat from your brow.
“Sweetheart, if this is about body insecurities,” the kindergarten teacher tells you, although her words are a bit slurred at this point. “No one is going to care what you look like in a swimsuit.”
“I bet yo’ tasty ass looks a lot better in a bikini than it does in all your buttoned up outfits that match Barbara’s energy,” Ava comments.
“I’m not always buttoned up,” you roll your eyes. “I just like to maintain some sense of professionalism when I’m with coworkers.”
“You think we give a shit about professionalism?” your boss smirks. “I go out clubbin’ every weekend and see half the Abbott parents out too. Janine and Greg were out at a hookah bar and were grinding up on each other. I’ve seen Barb and Melissa get absolutely hammered at PECSA!”
“And I am known to have a few too many aperol spritzes from time to time!” Jacob cuts in.
“Come on, baby boo, show us what youse made of!” Ava goads you.
You take a deep breath before opening your eyes again. “You really wanna see what I look like outside of school?”
Melissa’s eyes widen and her brows creep up her face. You don’t shed any clothing, not yet- but you do open your bag and pull out your different jewelry. You expertly take out the clear stud in your nose to exchange it for a hoop. Your earrings are all put in. Even though it’s just a small change, you look like an entirely different person to them- all except Melissa, who loves seeing you like this. She licks her lips subconsciously.
“Damn!” Ava grins. “We got ourselves a hot little alt girl!”
You roll your eyes at that comment. “Give me a few minutes to go change, and I’ll come in the pool.”
The hostess gives you directions as to where the bathroom is, and you thank her before heading inside to change. You do before throwing your big ripped up band t-shirt overtop of your figure. If you’re going to stun them all, you might as well go all out. You tie your hair up into one of your messier buns before making sure that your ‘slut strands’ (because that’s apparently what the baby hairs that don’t make it into the bun are called) look as though they’re supposed to be there before heading back outside.
Your secret girlfriend’s eyes go wide as you make your way into the fenced in area. You swear you see the smallest droplet of drool escape her mouth as her eyes stay trained on you. 
“Happy?” you ask your work friends.
“We’d be happier if you took off the hot t-shirt,” the principal smirks as she sips her seltzer. 
With a roll of your eyes, you peel off the shirt, revealing all of the tattoos that you have.
“You have tattoos?” Janine is mesmerized.
You shrug as you slowly start to make your way into the pool. “Young Y/N mistakes.”
“They look amazing though! I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I’m too scared that it’ll hurt or get infected or that I’ll-”
“You just have to find something that means something to you and brace yourself. And then it’s just simple aftercare. Not too bad at all.”
“Are we really gonna ignore the fact that our good little teacher is secretly an alternative hottie with a body?” Ava gestures to you wildly. “Like, damn girl. I knew you were fit, but I didn’t know you was gonna look like-”
“Enough,” you cut her off as you grab a float and situate yourself on it. You push yourself so that you’re close to Melissa, and she hangs off of your raft. “I don’t need my boss objectifying me.”
But she doesn’t get the hint- she never really does. And you can see the way that your girlfriend is getting more and more aggravated. Silently, you nudge her with your foot and shoot her a look, telling her to cool it.
You spend the afternoon in the pool before it’s time to start cooking some more food. Gerald comes out to take everyone’s orders, but you absolutely insist on helping to cook with him. It only seems right since they’re hosting, and you quite like to barbecue.
So you climb out of the pool. You can practically feel Ava’s eyes on you as your sun kissed skin glows. You wrap your towel around your body, and she’s immediately booing.
“Show that body, girl!” she tells you.
“I’m going to be grilling,” you roll your eyes. “I ain’t trying to barbecue myself.”
When you’ve deemed that you’re dry enough thanks to the sun still out and your closeness to the grill, you unwrap yourself from the towel. Ava cheers. Why is she always around? Her applause quickly dies though when you reach for your t-shirt and pull it over your head.
You continue to help Barbara’s husband, making small talk with him, when he asks you something that entirely throws you for a loop.
“So, you and Melissa?”
You look at him as though he has four heads. “What about it?”
“The two of you together or what?”
“What are you talking about?” you feign shock.
“I see the way she stares at you,” he shrugs. “And not the way that Ava is… there’s something there, even if you don’t know it yet.”
“I think you’re crazy,” you lie through your teeth.
“Barb thinks there’s something there too,” he tuts. “And that was before you revealed yourself to be little miss alt girl. Funnily enough, that’s exactly Melissa’s type.”
You roll your eyes. “We’re coworkers.”
“That ain’t stopping your boss from flirting with you,” he chuckles. “All I’m sayin is-”
“Is the food almost ready yet?” Melissa calls from her place in the pool. “And will you grab me another beer, hun?”
You don’t make a move, and Gerald laughs. “She ain’t callin’ me ‘hun’. That one’s all you.”
“Almost,” you call back. “And you just want another Yuengling?”
“Please!”
You grab the beverage, opening it up for her before making your way back towards the pool. She’s in the middle though, so you peel your shirt off again and make your way in to deliver it her.
“Body-ody-ody-ody-” the principal starts dancing, making quite a few splashes in the water.
“Ava!” Barbara tuts.
You roll your eyes as you climb back out of the pool and make your way back over to the grill, not wanting to hear how your boss will respond to being scolded. 
Dinner is wonderful, it’s cleaned up, and then you find yourself back in the pool as the sun starts to go down and the moon starts to rise. Gerald comes out to light up the tikis that they have around the outside, and he waves.
“Alrighty, I’m heading in for the night, but it was wonderful to see you all again.”
“Thank you, dear,” Barbara blows him a kiss.
That leaves you and the rest of the Abbott crew to spend some time in the moonlight together. Somehow, the conversation leads to you and the less professional side that you’ve now shown them.
“So, when did you get your first tattoo?” Janine asks you.
“Three days after I turned eighteen,” you laugh as you float alongside your girlfriend. “Got my nose pierced the first weekend I went to college. My mom was so pissed.”
“Why?” Barbara of all people asks. “It’s an expression.”
“She hates them,” you roll your eyes. “Told me if I got tattoos and a nose ring, she’d kick me out of the house… she never did.”
Melissa chuckles. “Sounds like-”
“Sounds like what, Melissa?” Barb cuts her off with a raised eyebrow.
“Sounds like our generation,” your girlfriend states quickly. She’s thankful it’s dim, or everyone would’ve seen the panicked look on her face.
“Who carees?” Ava asks. “It’s fuckin’ hot. If I had known that you were hiding all of that under your stuffy attire, damn… I would’ve been hitting on you way more.”
“Which is why I wear what I wear at school,” you deadpan.
“I mean, really… my boyfriend and I would love to-”
“Enough,” your girlfriend practically hisses.
The entire crew looks to the redhead. “What’s got your panties in such a twist?”
“Just shut up. Stop talking about her like that,” Melissa tells your group. “Or else.”
“Or else what, Melissa?” Ava presses. 
“Or else you’re gonna have to deal with Y/N’s girlfriend,” the redhead snaps. “Who just so happens to be me.”
You press your lips together in a fine line as you look anywhere but where your friends are floating around the pool.
They all immediately start questioning both you and the second grade teacher.
“What do you mean she’s your girlfriend?” a chorus of voices ask.
Only Barbara smirks. “I knew it.”
Melissa looks to you as she pulls you and your float in tight. “That’s right. Y/N is my girl, and y’all better stop ogling her before I throw youse in with the wolves at the zoo.”
“Mel,” you roll your eyes at her threat.
“I’m serious!” she hisses as she points a finger at Ava. “I know a guy who can make it happen, and I won’t hesitate to use him if you don’t stop drooling over my girl!”
“Since when has this been a thing?” Jacob asks. “If I had known you swung that way, Mel Mel… we would’ve been at Woody’s this whole time!”
“And that is why no one knew,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m past my days at Woody’s.”
“Well what about you, Y/N?” the middle school teacher asks. “You and me? Woody’s?”
“In your dreams, Hill,” you tease. “Maybe a more low key gay bar though.”
“So, when did this come about?” Barbara asks, quite interested. “I’ve been telling Melissa to go after you since you sauntered your way in- and that was before I knew you were a little alt girl- exactly her type.”
“Caught her at the grocery store one day,” Melissa shrugs. “We went out the next Monday… been together since.”
“It’s been, what? Four months?”
“Four months, two weeks, six days,” the redhead says casually. “And enjoying every moment of it.”
“Good on you,” Barbara cheers as she holds her drink in the air.
“So stop all your flirting with my girl, or there will be hell to pay, and I’ll make it look like it was an accident,” Melissa pointedly tells the group.
Ava puts her hands in the air in surrender before pursing her lips together. “What if both of you-”
“Ava!”
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livelaughlovesubs · 6 days
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NINIII!! I have a tiny little incy wincy request :3 … ermmm how abt making dazai wear a maid dress and then fucking him afterwards ?? (。>\\\<。)
And a little over stimming wouldn’t hurt.. ( ´ཀ` )
Again, sorry if I’m bothering u!! Don’t gotta do this request if u ain’t feeling like it! Have a great day nini, love uuuu!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
- 🎀
Heyyy 🎀 anon! Good to see you again, I haven’t heard a lot from you lately though :< anyway, thanks for the support and the idea, excuse me for a second. JAKOAKSKA DAZAI IN UGHH MAID DRESSES AHHH, SO CUTE OH GODDDD
Dom!reader x sub!character - reader is gender neutral
Warning: teasing, hair pulling, lingerie, role play (master/ servant), touching inappropriately, clothed sex? (A tiny bit)
Edit: this ended up being sexual tension without actually getting to the fucking part - ig it’s cuz I write dick in dick out too often so I like writing the foreplay aspect more :’)
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“What’s this?” You asked, curiosity peeked when you saw dazai hiding behind a locked room. He’s been staying there for at least 15 minutes now with the door shut tight, leaving you clueless. “It’s a surprise~!” Whenever you’d ask questions related to whatever he was doing, he’d give the same reply. Did he really need to make this so mysterious? Today wasn’t even a special day, so why was he being silly again?
Defeated, you sighed and simply went to the kitchen to grab something. Then you made your way over to the couch, deciding to wait until he’s ready. There wasn’t much you could do other than this. Another minute passed, and you finally heard the sound of locks getting unlocked. Your eye went immediately to the door, staring with anticipation. To your surprise, it was actually him. It took you a moment to properly grasp the situation.
There he was, standing in the door frame all confident like always. This wouldn’t have been surprising if it weren’t for the nice looking outfit he wore, which was a maid costume? A black top with long sleeves paired with an ankle long skirt in the same colour, as well as a white, pretty extravagant or frilly apron. The apron hung from his shoulders and has been tied around his waist, creating a ribbon behind him. He also had a headband on his head, along with some gloves. The outfit would have looked professional if it weren’t for the many excessive ribbons decorating the dress, like the ones on his sleeves or headband, as well as his heels.
It’d be an understatement to say your jaw dropped and you were flabbergasted. Sure, you had some ideas what he could have being doing in that room, and this idea has come across your mind before. Even so seeing it in person was still shocking to say the least. With his usual confidence he carried himself over to you, which was impressive even if the heels weren’t that tall. He stopped in front of the couch and did a few twirls. The dress fluttered around in an elegant fashion, captivating your attention.
“It looks great..” you whispered, eyeing him up and down. The outfit was really pretty and refined, it gave off high class vibes. “Of course it is, I picked it out for you,” dazai said with a smug look on his face, before kneeling down and resting his head in your lap. Despite the reality, you had troubles believing dazai really brought this. Knowing him, he would have gotten something more erotic instead of settling down for elegance.
For a while, none of you moved. He kept nuzzling against you while you stroke his hair gently. Until you grabbed his wrist and slipped your index finger inside his gloves. “There must be more to why you wore this, no?” The brunette didn’t have an ounce of surprise on his features, he has been expecting such a reaction from you. “There is no deeper meaning to this, did you wish there were some?” At the same time your hand kept advancing, though he let you do so without any resistance. Now you were slowly slipping the glove off of him. Those were latex gloves, how mischievous of him, or should you rather say thoughtful?
You shook the glove in your hand a little, getting rid of the folds. He watched you do so, revealing a moment of vulnerability to you. Making use of that small frame, you suddenly tugged at his hair, making him throw his head back. “Err..?” A small yelp left him, this position made him arch his back too. The headband fell off and his eyes were now glued to your hand holding his glove. Since when was it so close to your lips? It was your dominant hand too.
Slowly, without rushing it, you put on the glove, all while tugging at his hair with your other hand. Then you bit the end of the fabric and pulled it down, wearing it. Your gaze didn’t leave his for a moment. Noticing how he had a slightly dumbfounded expression. “What’s wrong, dazai?” You cooed, though it almost seemed like you were mocking him. Before he could say anything in opposition, you continued, “oh dear, stand up, or the outfit might get dirty.” What a roundabout way of giving him orders.
The male obeyed, standing up slowly and leaving the headband on the floor. With each moment spend here in your presence, the tension seemed to increase. He grabbed the end of his apron, waiting for your instructions, smiling excitingly. “You know you can just order me around, master.” Dazai teased, wanting to push your buttons. This game of tug was balanced, none of you wanted to fold first. “I’m just your maid after all.” He added, now holding the skirt and raising it, giving you a small glimpse of his legs while he bowed. Stockings. You saw stockings. Was he perhaps wearing lingerie underneath it..? It’d make sense, considering how long he took in that damned room.
“Haha..” you chuckled a little, he seems to have caught onto your little challenge. The hint you dropped was too obvious huh? If that’s the case, time to speed things up. Once again you surprised him, this time by grabbing his waist and changing your positions. Pushing him down to sit on the couch while you were hovering above him, pressing a knee against his clothed crotch. “Hmm~! Hey now.. that’s not fair.” He gasped, breathing heavily. “I’m your master, not a fair player.” That answer seems to have shut him up. His hands grabbed your leg, you weren’t sure what he was trying to do. Moving your knee away or pressing it down?
Nevertheless you had to move it out of the way for your next move, so you did that. A disappointment whine followed from the male. “No need to get all needy already, I’m just getting started.” You smirked and your weaker hand held his dress up, revealing the real surprise he had been hiding. “Ops~ I guess you exposed me~?” He grinned, as if he didn’t plan this from the very start. Your prediction was right, he did wore some nice looking undergarments for you. Black lace covered his smooth legs, up until his thighs. From there on it was attached to his panties by a string, all of it black and laced.
“The fabric is pretty uncomfortable you know?” Dazai voice his thoughts, pulling a pitiful facade. Of course you knew what he was implying, which is why you deliberately ignored it. He just loved this power struggle between you two. Even though he knew exactly where his place was, he just wanted to rile you up. Without answering his previous statement, you moved your hand to his back. At least you tried, the apron was preventing you from doing so. That’s why you settled for his sacrum, caressing that part gently before moving lower and groping his butt.
A squeak filled with anticipation escaped him, feeling the latex rub against his skin. Soon the cheeky smile turned into a seductive one, melting with pleasure all due to your touch. His entrance clenching while his dick slowly got hard, rubbing against the cute panties. How he wished to just beg you to fuck him senseless, but that would spoil the fun, no? Yet all this foreplay was making him impatient~ what should he do? In the end, he settled on whispering with a pleading tone, “oh, master, please make this servant dirty.”
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REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED
Part two!
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belovedmusings · 6 months
Text
It’s just nerves.
Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto
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Part one of the ‘Two + One’ story. Click for story masterlist.
Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫
Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and you’ve been together for a year. His previous band broke up and he’s been looking to join a new one ever since, so when he has an audition with a local up and coming one, you accompany him to give him support. That’s where you meet the band’s Bassist, Suguru Geto. The mutual attraction is immediate—but you love your boyfriend, and you resolve to keep your desires for Suguru suppressed, even as Choso is accepted into the band. The question is, can Suguru stay away from you?
Relevant tags: love triangle, sexual tension, slow burn, thoughts of infidelity, guilt, car sex, semi-public sex, accidental voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, PWP/Porn With Plot, shy and nervous Choso, Choso is a sweetheart as always, Suguru is a quiet yet confident flirt, Suguru has piercings and tattoos, you are addressed without the usage of “y/n”, AFAB reader with minimal usage of gendered language, reader has no defining characteristics for realism & inclusivity
Recommended songs to listen to while reading: You Right (Doja Cat, The Weeknd), nasty (Ariana Grande), West Coast (Lana Del Rey)
A/N: okay, hear me out. these two are an alt boy duo that i would not mind being tag-teamed by so…here tf we go. This was gonna be a one shot but I live for drama so there’ll be multiple parts.
Read below the cut:
Choso’s leg won’t stop bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as you drive towards the location of his audition.
He’s been looking for his place in a new band ever since his previous one broke up a few months ago, and he’d seen that the city’s most popular up-and-coming band Curse Manipulation posted an ad in need of a guitarist on their Instagram. The two of you like some of their music though you aren’t overly familiar with the band, so he figured it would be a no-brainer to audition.
You know he’s going to be accepted. Choso is an amazing guitarist, and he writes beautiful lyrics, too. Not to mention the haunting voice he can sing with.
You have complete faith in your boyfriend, and he is very aware of your support, and yet he’s still an endearing ball of nerves beside you.
“Hey,” you say softly, placing a hand on his thigh as you reach a red stoplight, easing onto the brake. You give him a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna do great, babe. I know it.”
He smiles half-convincingly at you, which in him is really just a twitch of the corner of his lips, and you can’t help but reach up and lovingly cup his chin between your thumb and index.
“I’ll be right there with you. So you don’t need to worry.”
He sighs, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze as the light turns green, allowing you to continue on your drive.
“Thanks,” his voice is quiet. “I just…really do like their sound. The more I think of it, the more I can see myself playing with them. I just hope they agree.”
“They will,” you say surely. “After it’s over, wanna get some McDonald’s? I think there’s a McFlurry with your name on it.”
He chuckles softly and nods. “Sure. That sounds good.”
You flash a grin as you turn onto the next street, entering a residential area with houses nicer than you were expecting. They aren’t mansions, but as you drive through, they’re definitely nicer than yours and Choso’s humble apartment.
“Huh. Didn’t know they made this much money already,” You think aloud, and he shifts beside you, also looking out of the window.
“I read about them a little,” Choso tells you, “Their bassist is a songwriter that’s pretty well-known in alternative music, apparently.”
“Yeah?” You ask, impressed. “So this guy’s a big shot?”
“Kinda,” Choso laughs breathily. “Honestly, I think that’s why I’m nervous.”
“You’re nervous that he’s a professional? A little intimidated?” You ask, and he shrugs.
“Could be,” he admits. “I mean, I know that I’m a good player, so that’s not it entirely. It’s just that if I do get put in the band, things’ll change. They’re gaining popularity, and with the experience he has, the band’s definitely going to get somewhere.”
You hum. “That sounds great. You’ve always wanted to do this as a career—and your stuff deserves to be heard, baby. Maybe you’re more excited than nervous.”
“Could be,” he shrugs, “It’s just a lot.”
“That’s understandable,” you reply, “It’s okay to be nervous. Auditions are scary as hell. But I’m telling you, it’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna get in there, you’re gonna play and blow them away, then we’ll get ourselves some delicious fast food and relax at home.”
He smiles softly at you, and you return it before looking back out of the windshield, seeing your destination approaching. You slow to a stop on the curb at the side of the house, shifting the car into park.
“All right,” You say. “We’re here. Ready?”
He takes a breath and nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
—-
A tall, pale man in a white muscle tank-top and baggy sweats greets the two of you at the door with a smile.
“Hi, you must be Choso,” He shakes hands with your boyfriend, “Suguru said you’d be coming. I’m Larue, the band’s drummer.”
“Hey,” greets Choso with his trademark small-smile, “I am. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Who’s this beauty you brought with you?” Larue asks, directing his attention to you.
You shake hands with Larue as you introduce yourself as Choso's significant other.
“Hi,” you greet, giving him your name. “I hope it’s okay I’m here.”
“Oh, of course,” Larue insists. “Come on in. The studio’s down the hall. Just leave your shoes by the door.”
He lets you two into the house, allowing you a chance to look around while you remove your shoes. It looks rather modern and minimal as a structure but the furniture has an eclectic, almost gothic feel to it, green plants livening up the space. It smells pleasant as well—like fresh juniper.
“This way,” Larue gestures to follow him, so you and your boyfriend do, your hand slipping into Choso’s to offer him comfort. He gives your hand a little pulse and you do one in reply as Larue leads you down the hallway, stopping at the door at the end. “Here we are.”
He pushes it open and enters, calling out to the occupants in the room. “Choso’s here for his audition!”
Choso enters first and you follow, entering the cozy studio, lit warmly with lamps, the floor covered in patchwork rugs, a sofa on one end across from a mixing board, and behind that, glass panes that lead to the sound booth, a room that houses the band’s instruments and equipment. Honestly, you’re impressed—you had no clue this band was so serious about their music. It makes your chest swirl with pride. This is the perfect chance for Choso’s talent to finally be recognized.
“Hey there, it’s nice to meet you in person,” a voice pulls you out of your appraisal and back towards the mixing board, where a man sits in a chair, smiling at your boyfriend. As soon as you look at him, his eyes meet yours, and you swear a little shock of electricity runs through you at that exact moment. His eyes flash with something indistinguishable. “I’m Suguru Geto. Bassist and frontman.”
Oh. He’s the singer, too? The bassist? That’s a little unusual, but it’s cool. He’s cool. He has gauges that are framed by long, dark hair, placid and gentle dark eyes, a pretty nose, smooth-looking lips with strong cheekbones and a sharp jawline to match. You can’t ignore the piercings he has on his face, one over his left eyebrow, thin silver hoops adorning his bottom lip in snake bites. Tattoos peak up from his collarbone under his black crew neck, and you trace your gaze down to his hands, fingers free of tattoos but the back of his hands themselves inked up, chunky silver rings making up for the empty room on his dexterous digits instead.
Your mouth goes dry. He’s gorgeous.
His eyes don’t leave you as he says, “who is this angel you brought with you?”
Choso’s hand on yours tightens, bringing you back to yourself. You manage a smile, trying to ignore your racing heart. You stutter as you answer him, cementing yourself as Choso's.
When you tell Suguru your name, and he repeats it, a smile stretches across his lips. “It’s very nice to meet you. Please, make yourself comfortable. Ah, and this is Miguel, our keyboards.”
He gestures to the man leaning against the wall in sunglasses, gold hoops handing from his ears. He smiles and waves. “Hey.”
“Hi,” replies Choso, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Choso, you wanna set up with the amp over there?” Suguru points to the wall near the couch, and your boyfriend nods.
“Yeah, sure.”
You smile at him again, rubbing his arm gently before moving over to the sofa to sit beside Larue on the opposite end. Miguel takes a seat in the chair beside him as Choso sets about getting his guitar from its case, your eyes gravitating back towards the black hole in the room sitting at the mixing board.
You find his calculating eyes already on you, and instead of looking away at being caught, the corner of his mouth turns up. It makes you feel warm all over.
“So,” Larue speaks, cutting through the silence. “How long have you been playing, Choso?”
“I taught myself when I was thirteen,” He answers, taking the chord plugged into the amp and pushing the other end into his guitar. “I joined my band when I was fifteen, but it split because the others wanted to do their own things.”
“Ah,” Miguel chimes in, “That sucks. Everybody’s gotta be on the same page.”
“Yeah, but I really liked being in a band, so hopefully this goes well,” Choso smiles softly, standing up to sling the guitar strap over his shoulder. He checks to make sure the volume on the amp is down before switching it on, experimentally strumming at a few strings until the volume is at a good level.
“All set?” Asks Suguru, and Choso nods.
“Yeah. I really like ‘Love to the Strong’ so I’ll do that one.”
That was one of your favorites of Curse Manipulator. You and Choso listen to it a lot, and you’ve heard him play it before. He was able to figure it out just by listening, once again putting you in awe of him. You know he has this in the bag.
His black-painted nails form the first chord and he starts strumming, effortlessly switching to the next one and the next, starting to sing along like it’s second nature. You watch him with shimmering eyes. Whenever he plays, you can’t help but see him for the star he truly is. Everything about him is just so unique, so special. What had drawn you to him was his appearance, how unapologetically he expresses himself in what he wears, the spiky style he wears his hair up in, the tattoo across the bridge of his nose, the heavy eyeliner around his eyes…you even think about the tattoo of your name he’d gotten over his heart for your birthday in beautiful black lettering, one of many presents to you that day, and your heart flutters.
Wanting to read the room to see how the others are reacting, you look at Miguel first. He’s nodding his head along, brow furrowed with a smile on his lips. Good. He’s enjoying it. You look at Larue next, who is tapping along to the beat with his hand on his thigh quietly, dividing it even further with his foot.
Last, your eyes move to Suguru, who is moving in time with Choso’s playing, nodding with his chin in his hand. He seems to feel your eyes on his, because he meets your gaze in the next moment. That smirk finds its way on his face again, playful, and you feel your heart hammer hard against your rib cage involuntarily. Without looking away from you, he lets his index finger rest between his lips, tongue pushing against it just so you see the black ball of jewelry at the center of it.
Fuck. A tongue piercing.
A deluge of very lewd, very intrusive thoughts slam into you without your permission. What would his snake bites and tongue piercing feel like if you kissed him? Or if he tried sucking a hickey into your neck? How would his mouth feel around one of your nipples? Or, shit, how would it feel eating you out? Does he know how to use that little bead to his advantage? Would he use it to make you fall apart?
The song finishes and Larue’s enthusiastic cheers yank you from your wanton musings, dragging your eyes from Suguru’s poetic face back to your boyfriend.
Choso smiles at you, eyes searching for approval, for assurance that he did well, and you nod without thinking, a smile spreading over your face as you push the thoughts of Suguru down. You can compartmentalize them later—right now, you need to be a supportive partner. Relief washes over his face.
“That was great,” Suguru says, all business again, “I didn’t know you could sing. Would you be interested in doing toplines and backing vocals also?"
Choso nods. “Yeah, that sounds great. I uh, I write too. If you ever wanted to collaborate.”
“He’s really good,” you add, hoping the blush you feel when Suguru’s gaze finds yours again isn’t noticeable. He smiles at you and it makes you so warm, so nervous.
“That’s great,” He says, glancing back at your boyfriend. “Choso, I know it was a short audition, but I think we can all agree that you’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
You see Choso’s face light up, nuanced to most but so obvious to you, and you grin brightly. You knew it.
“Really?”
“Yep,” Miguel voices his agreement. “Welcome to the band.”
“Welcome!” is Larue’s input.
Suguru flits his eyes to you again. “Just what I’ve been looking for.”
Choso doesn’t see where he’s looking though, because he’s smiling at you, but you do see it, and you feel all sorts of emotions.
Suguru wants you. He’s made it obvious enough already, and that fact plays with your sanity levels a disturbing amount. You have Choso. You love Choso. You see yourself staying with him forever, because he makes you happy, and he makes you feel safe and taken care of. You trust him with your life and he’s never done anything to even waver that trust. You have never looked at another man like this the entire time you’ve been with Choso, either.
So why now all of a sudden is a simple glance from Suguru threatening to put you on your knees? What is going on with you?
“Thank you guys,” Choso speaks, oblivious to the turmoil inside of your head, “I’ll do my best.”
Suguru stands up and pats his shoulder. Oh fuck. He’s tall, shoulders wide—he’s intimidating. He looks like he could toss you around like a pillow. Choso’s build is nothing to sneeze at, but Suguru is just…huge. You silently beg for any god listening to take pity on you and force you to calm down.
“Come on, let’s all relax in the living room with some tea and get to know everyone better,” Suguru suggests, looking at you, “How does that sound?”
You have half a mind to run out of the house right now to prevent yourself from doing something stupid like jumping Suguru’s bones on the spot. Instead, you force a smile on your face.
“Sounds good.”
It’s an hour of soft torture on Suguru’s couch. You’re sandwiched between Choso and the arm of the blue velvet sofa, Larue on his other side. Miguel sits in a matching chair off to the right, and in the other one, directly to your left sits Suguru.
It’s obscene the way his legs are spread out, open like he has a third one in the middle and he needs room for it, and that thought keeps repeating in your head, contributing to the worst hurricane that’s ever ravished the shores of your mind.
His arms are no better, elbows perched on either of the chair’s arms, pelvis forward as he slinks lazily. He’d made tea for everyone when you went into the living room and when he handed you your mug, his fingertips brushed yours and it made you feel like a shy teenager with a crush.
You try really hard not to stare at him but your eyes keep gravitating. He’s leading the conversation, and a fair amount of questions have to do with you. You have no choice but to look at him. And fuck, you don’t mind, he’s sentient art. It should be punishable by law how sinfully his pierced lips wrap around the mug to sip at the tea. At one point while you’re talking about what you do for a living, Choso’s watching you as you talk. Since his eyes aren’t on Suguru, it gives the man a free-pass to test your patience. A drop of tea accidentally slides down the side of his mouth and he flicks his tongue out to lick it, stud glinting at you, and you fucking feel yourself start to get wet.
You tear your eyes away from him after stuttering, finishing your sentence and lifting the cup to your lips to give yourself something else to focus on.
Whenever he looks at you, you can just feel it. You feel it like when you stand too close to fire, heat just threatening to burn your skin, and you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to get fucked.
Wow, you think, real nice. You’re disappointed in yourself. You just met this man and he has this much control over your body? He hasn’t even really touched you.
Choso didn’t even have this effect on you. It was a pair assignment in a class you two had together that started it. He was quiet and frankly looked bored most of the time. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, or to ask you something about your assignments. When you were told you had to work with each other for the final, you two grew closer over meetings at cafes while you worked. You remember the first time you made him laugh. It was music to your ears, and it made your heart flutter. That’s when you started having feelings for him.
Everything he did after that was endearing. You started noticing that he would ask you more questions than necessary just to talk with you, you noticed he’d find reasons to prolong your meetings when you worked together, and he’d even pay for the food or drinks you’d order while working. He liked you, and you liked him back, and he was just so pure in his intentions, you fell even harder.
The night before the final was due, you were over at his place to practice. You’d been there a few times, as he’d been at yours too, and after polishing the project, you decided you two needed a break. You saw his guitar sitting against the wall and asked him to play something. He was hesitant, but ultimately couldn’t deny you, so he sat across from you and started strumming and singing a song you’d never heard before.
It was beautiful. The lyrics would put Hozier to shame. You suspected it was an original, too. You were probably biased, but hell, at that moment you knew he was someone you couldn’t let go of.
When he finished, he confirmed that he’d written it himself. You told him whoever he wrote it about was really lucky, and that if it was you, you’d fall in love with him immediately.
That was you opening the door, and he walked through it with earnest eyes and a hopeful smile.
He’s been your boyfriend since, and he’s made you so happy.
Remembering how you met Choso helps a lot to mitigate the damage Suguru is doing to your psyche, and to keep yourself strong, you don’t look at Suguru again. You fix your eyes on the mug, and a little after the tea is finished, you and Choso decide to go home.
Suguru sees you out after Larue takes care of your mugs, Miguel bidding you a farewell before he makes his way back to the studio. You get your shoes back on, hearing Choso express his gratitude again and agree to return tomorrow so that they can start rehearsing for their next gig.
“It was really nice to meet you.”
Suguru’s eyes are suddenly on yours again and it’s as if that flame that had been reduced to a steady, barely noticeable simmer roars back to life on high. He really is so fucking, damningly pretty.
“You too,” you manage with what you hope is a convincingly easy smile. He holds his palm out to shake hands, and your heart jumps in your ribcage. You fear touching him might rouse a beast within you that you previously had no knowledge of.
Out of courtesy and the obligation to uphold social cues, you lay your hand in his. His palm is warm. His fingers feel rough and firm, no doubt hardened due to his years playing bass. His skin looks nice against yours, you think intelligently, and before he lets go, he gives your hand a strong squeeze. Had you been any less of a person you would have buckled with your newly weakened knees. He has a strong grip.
What on you would he grab like that? Your thigh? Your ass? Your hips? Fuck, your neck?
Your smile tapers at the sheer indecency of your thoughts as he lets go, and you absentmindedly smile at him to try and save face, turning to follow your boyfriend out of the house and down the driveway.
“Get home safely!” Suguru calls behind you, and you hear Choso reply in kind. You can’t muster a response. Your whole body is buzzing. It feels like there are two wolves literally fighting for dominance inside of you. One of them is urging you to go home, to calm the hell down and maybe take out all of your newfound frustration on Choso.
The other one, however, is clawing at your back, trying to drag you back towards Suguru so that you can jump him and fuck him right in the front room of his house.
Obscene. Filthy. You need to get out of here. Who are you?
You make it to the car, but after Choso puts his guitar in the backseat, you hesitate before the driver’s seat.
“Babe?” You ask, and he looks over at you.
“Yeah?”
“Can you drive?”
“Of course,” he answers easily, moving around to meet you at the driver’s side of the car. You hand him the keys, but refuse to move. He tilts his head to the side. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, unsure of who you’re trying to convince. You’re so torn right now. You feel so guilty for looking at another man the way you did tonight, but you’re also still so fucking horny and your angel of a boyfriend is standing right in front of you.
You decide to make a very lust-induced decision.
“Choso?”
“Yeah?” He puts his hand on your shoulder in concern. “What is it?”
He’s so fucking sweet. It warms your heart but you need something more, something crazy.
“I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes widen, and you can practically hear his heart stutter. He blinks, face reddening. “Well…when we get home, we can—”
“Right here, Choso.”
Another blink. He has no idea where this is coming from—you’ve never acted like this. Sex stays at home, in private.
“…right here? Right now?” He asks, looking around. It’s dark out now, the neighborhood lit up dimly by streetlights staggered up and down the sidewalks. “Outside?”
“In the car,” you say. That’s private enough, right? It should be. He swallows thickly.
“Are…are you sure? What if we get caught?”
You just want it so badly right now. You stretch the truth to get what you desire.
“I’m just so proud of you,” you say, heart feeling heavy. “You did so well today—you deserve it, baby.”
He smiles bashfully at the praise, scratching behind his neck. “I only did because you were here…I can wait until we get back. Don’t worry.”
It’s not working. God damn it.
You make a last-ditch effort.
“I know you can,” you say, getting in his space and touching his chest. Lowly, you add, “But I don’t think I can.”
His dark eyes widen again, an unsure smile twitching at his lips. “You want me that bad?”
It’s starting to work. “Yeah. Please, babe? Unless it makes you uncomfortable…”
“No,” he quickly shakes his head, “Let’s do it. Where do we…?”
You spring into action.
Your hand goes for the lever on the side of the driver’s seat, pulling it and reclining it all the way back.
“Sit, baby. I’ll ride you.”
He sucks in a breath and does as told, getting in the car and watching as you follow, shutting and locking the door behind yourself.
You straddle his legs and kiss him without a moment to waste, threading your hands in his hair. He reciprocates easily, sighing when he feels you pull the hair ties out to let his dark brown locks fall free. His hands find your waist as you start grinding on him to get him hard, relishing in the soft noises it starts to pull from him within minutes.
You think for a moment that this is crazy. You’re actually going to fuck Choso in a car. It is a little dangerous, but that excites you. You’re just so fucking turned on because of that infuriatingly gorgeous bassist…
Choso moans when you grind harder, his hand slipping up the leg of the denim shorts you’re wearing and past your underwear, finding you to be drenched.
“You really did want this,” he laughs breathily, and you feel another pang of guilt. He’s feeling the result of miniscule attention from Suguru. Sick. It’s sick.
You can’t do this to Choso. You need to focus on him. This is happening between the two of you and no one else.
“I did,” you choose to smile back. “Let me have it now, baby?”
He sucks in a slow breath and nods, pupils blown, reaching down to unzip his jeans. You help, popping the button and reaching down to free him from his boxers.
He’s hot and firm in your grasp and you can’t help but stroke him a few times, enjoying the groans it pulls from his throat.
Painfully aware of your own arousal, you decide not to tease him anymore and shift, lining him up with your entrance. Just like that, with all of your clothes still on, you slip him inside, moaning at the relief the pressure of his girth provides your needy walls.
His hands stay on your hips as you start bouncing on him, his brows furrowing, eyes fixed on your face.
“Fuck,” he breathes, breathing ragged and erratic. You hear the wet noises obscenely in the small space, covering his shaft with your essence, and you roll your hips, teasing his tip against the sensitive spot inside of you.
“Choso,” you hiss, aiming there. Recognizing you found it, he starts thrusting up to meet your movements, heightening your pleasure. You throw your head back, mouth falling open. “Oh god baby, yes…”
His eyes flutter shut and you start riding him faster, his jaw clenching as he bites down. A strained grunt escapes with his voice, neck veins protruding, and you move your hands before thinking, wrapping them around his neck.
He groans louder as you apply a tiny amount of pressure, voice switching and going higher. You’re thoroughly wrecking your boyfriend now and it’s making your mound practically weep over his cock, uncaring that the car is rocking with your movements.
Your eyes flit to the side out of the window, and what you see punches heat into your gut so hard you gasp.
Suguru is standing on the balcony of what must be his bedroom, looking right into the window of your car at you, and only you.
He’s holding something between his fingers that looks like a cigarette, smirking down at you as he leans his cheek against his palm. Keep going, his eyes say.
You don’t dare disobey him. The thought doesn’t even cross your mind. You ride Choso even harder, getting the head of his throbbing cock to hammer against the most sensitive part of your insides.
You chance a glance down at Choso, who is still lost in a world of his own, eyes squeezed shut, and you look back up at Suguru, who is taking a drag.
He blows out smoke and it makes you clench hard around Choso.
“Fuck,” moans your boyfriend, “M’close, so close…”
You are too. The cock inside of you is so good, the friction of your shorts on your pearl is starting to overwhelm you, and Suguru watching you with absolutely zero shame is twisting your instincts into knots.
He corrupts you with dirty thoughts just by looking at you.
If it were him, the moment you’d asked to fuck, he probably would have pushed you into the backseat. You’d have been on your hands and knees, or maybe laid out on your back as he railed you so disrespectfully you’d feel him trying to invade your ribs. He’d call you all sorts of names, degrade you for being a slut, for not being able to wait.
You moan louder, feeling so close you’re about to lose your mind. Choso mewls beneath you, voice becoming lost to the whimpers he gets only when he cums.
“Baby, baby,” his voice rings out, “Fuck, I’m cumming…”
You feel it spill inside of you and as soon as Suguru’s smirk deepens, his head tilting as if to say ‘go on’, you orgasm hard.
“Oh fuck!”
Choso grunts as you clamp down on his sensitive member, slowing his thrusts to a stop as you pant heavily. You see Suguru grin and straighten up, lingering his gaze for a moment longer before turning and leaving you alone with Choso once more.
Now without the object of your forbidden desires, you slump forward, laying over Choso’s chest. You kiss his sweaty neck lovingly, embracing him tightly as the post-coital clarity starts seeping back into your head.
“Thank you,” you breathe, “I love you, Choso.”
You do. You love him. Suguru is just a fantasy and he’s going to stay that way. You’re happy with Choso and that’s the end of the story. You’ll just have to avoid Suguru and everything will be fine.
“I love you too,” He replies softly, kissing the top of your head. “Always.”
You close your eyes, biting back a heavy sigh.
I’m so sorry, you want to say, but resolve to make it up to him by just being a better partner to him than you have been, though he’s never complained. You’re not going to let this new infatuation take root.
What you don’t know is that this is only the beginning.
---
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A/N: I'm not even gonna lie I'm so excited for this, I have so much hot drama planned you're gonna love it. Comment to be added to my taglist for when the next parts come out!
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redocity · 18 days
Note
Buck as the eternal playboy but folding the second the reader hits on him back? Maybe corner him against a wall for funsies >:)
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THE LONG GAME — E.BUCKLEY
flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck’s not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.
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WARNINGS: 16+ for suggestiveness, alcohol, lots of flirting, chimney being a cockblock rip, buck is so sexually frustrated rip
evan buckley x gn!reader || ???? || 3.1k || requests open!
a/n: not me giggling over my own writing, how sad is that-
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
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Arguably the best part about your job was being able to celebrate a job well done.
That feeling of accomplishment after getting through a really tough call with nothing but a positive outcome.
The team never went half-assed on the celebrations, and you’re sure that the bar you all frequent post-shift knows you all by name by now from how often you all abandon your nights to spend an extra few hours in each other’s company.
That was another thing you loved about your job. The team. Your family.
You could spend 24 straight hours with them and they’d still make an excuse to spend a few more with everyone.
Today was no different. You rolled up to the bar in a tight-circle, eerily resembling the professional attitude you had to display during your work hours, one not yet shed considering it’d only been three-quarters of an hour since your shift ended.
You knew it wouldn’t last long, you’d all be too drunk to care about professionalism soon enough. Well except Bobby anyway.
You barely had time to walk through the front doors before Buck was running up to the bar to order everyone a round of drinks, a confident smirk etched on his face that only grew as the local news recounted the story of one of they day’s earlier calls with civilian footage.
“I wonder who that is,” He nudges your side as you walk over, cockiness washing all over his face as he nods up towards the TV hanging up by the ceiling. “They look pretty badass,”
You give him an almost dismissive hum as you pick up one of the glasses from the cluster to take a sip of the craft beer filling it. “I wonder,”
“Oh come on, you’re all over the news,” He gives you another small nudge. “You’re practically famous right now,”
He leans in towards you to talk over the music, reaching over to grab a pint glass of his own and clinking it animatedly against yours before taking a swig from it.
“He’s right you know,” Hen gives you nudge herself, joined by an enthusiastic thumbs up from Chimney behind her. “Own it,”
“Right? you pulled a whole superhero move,” Buck motions up towards the news broadcast again, where they are still replaying a clip of you kicking through a pane of reinforced glass on a high-rise from on top of the roof as an alternative method of entry to the collapsed stairwell on the inside.
“Sounds like you’re projecting Buckley, jealous?” You raise your eyebrow with an air of amusement as you take another swig from your glass.
“Absolutely not, in fact, I’m the opposite of jealous right now,” He leans in towards you again so that your shoulders brush together. “It was hot,”
“Okay horndog,” You roll your eyes at his comment, pushing away his face with the palm of your hand pressed to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants will you?”
He does nothing but laugh at the way you scold him, allowing you your personal space as he sits up straight once more.
Buck’s ability to flirt his way through any situation was honestly mildly impressive, how he managed to twist any situation into having a sensual undertone no matter what it was.
Last week it was Eddie carrying a sandbag into the station gym. The week before that it was the fact that Hen had cut a slice of lasagna for him instead of him doing it himself.
And apparently this week’s target was you. For jumping off a roof and shattering a glass window with your feet.
You’d question his taste if you didn’t know he was joking.
Although as the night went on and the table became increasingly cluttered with empty glasses, you started to question whether it was actually a joke.
Whether it was some quirk of his personality, or something more serious.
They say that drunk words are sober thoughts right? And Buck was definitely drunk and definitely spouting some choice words right now.
He whistles as you pot one of the striped balls on the pool table, his competitiveness all but disappeared underneath the haze that his alcohol consumption had laid over his brain. “Skilled with your feet and your hands? You’re just about every guy’s dream,”
He leans across the pool table to aim his shot, pool cue horribly aimed to the point where the cue ball barely skims the solid red ball he was aiming for. “Probably every girl’s dream too actually,”
“Instead of trying to kiss my ass, maybe you should focus on actually playing the game,” You genuinely can’t tell by this point whether his poor skills were an effect of the alcohol running through his system or if he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.
If there was one thing you did, it was play fair, and that included not letting your opponent give you an easy win.
“Oh how I would love to kiss that ass,” He makes an exaggerated show of leaning backwards to get a clear view, giving you another short whistle as you lean over the table to line up your next shot.
“Win the game and maybe i’ll let you,”
You swear you can see the moment his mind fractures, enunciated by another striped ball falling into one of the pockets and you lining up another shot.
He’s like a robot doing a hard reset, his eyes staring blankly at you like he physically cannot comprehend that you’d actually say something like that.
You don’t make your next shot, though whether by distraction from Buck’s eyes on the side of your face or your own drunken mistake you’re not entirely sure. Either way, when you straighten up to stand again, Buck hasn’t moved an inch.
“Go on, your turn,” You tap the side of his arm with your pool cue, amusement washing over your features as you watch him physically jolt from the contact and shake his head as if to physically shake off what you’d said to him.
Who knew such a casanova would get so flustered when someone played along with his little flirting game.
He ended up losing of course, you were far too much ahead for him to have a chance of catching up before you potted the eight ball and took the game, and you could swear there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, and not because of the four solid colour balls still left on the table.
He didn’t even glance at them.
No, instead he kept his eyes firmly locked on you as you gloated your win.
“Now that is something to celebrate,” You lay your cue on the table with a victorious smirk. “Better luck next time I suppose,”
Your cockiness continues to flourish as you pot the remaining balls into the pockets and take Buck’s pool cue from him to lay it next to yours. “So what’s my reward then?”
”I- What?” He blinks at you a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his mind tries to catch up to the conversation.
“Well we laid out what would happen if you won, so what do I get for actually winning?” You tilt your head to the side as you take a step towards him, arms crossed over your chest with your eyebrow raised. “Surely I deserve to be rewarded, no?”
“I can uh…I can buy you a drink…” Buck pursed his lips together, dry swallowing as he leant backwards against the pool table upon your approach. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. Why was he so ruffled under the collar about this?
This was his prime domain, so why was it the second that you mirrored his interest he shut down and started backtracking on himself like a highschooler?
“I think we’ve had enough drinks don’t you?” You take another step forward as he sits on the edge of the table, essentially boxing him in despite there being very easy escape points at both his right and his left. “Besides, I want to be sober enough to remember this tomorrow,”
What on earth did you mean by that?
God he felt pathetic right now, a 6’2, 220lbs man being boxed in against a pool table of all things by one of his extremely attractive coworkers because you’d had a sudden streak of confidence and decided to flip his advances back on himself.
“Uh…” He gives a small, half awkward chuckle as his eyes flicker to consciously remain focused on your own eyes and not fall downwards. He knew the uniforms were tight but god did he not notice how tight they were until he was having to physically restrain himself from looking further down. “Right well- uh- what do you want then..?”
Buck watched as your eyes left his to flicker downwards, not so far down that you were staring at his chest, but just far down enough that he could tell you had your attention on a part of his face that was not his eyes.
He’d blame the bright red of his cheeks on the drinks if you asked about it, but you seem far too enamoured by the way he nervously purses and bites his lips under your gaze to even so much as glance at anything else.
“You know what I want..?” You break your staring to meet his eyes again, although you still make the time to turn your eyes down to his mouth again during the breaks between words.
He swears you’re leaning in with every word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t leaning in himself, a sharp, stuttered breath escaping his lips as you get close enough so your breath fans across his cheeks. “I think so…”
You give a small hum at his answer, lips quirking into a smile as you narrow your gaze and tilt your head slightly to the left so that your noses don’t bump together as you bring your faces within an inch of each other.
His lips part on instinct, breathing a whisper of air into your mouth as he anticipates the contact with closed eyes.
“I want you to stop drinking my orange juice,”
The tension in his shoulders seems to drop at your statement, and his eyes shoot back open as you pull yourself back to stand fully upright, absolute delight drenching your features as you read the waves of shock and dissatisfaction that roll over him at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?-”
He was so close. So close to having your lips on his. And you ripped it away from him with that stupidly hot smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing.
You definitely knew what you were doing.
“In the station, I know it’s you,” You explain yourself like it’s no big deal, like you weren’t centimetres from giving Buck what he’d been pining for for so goddamn long a few seconds ago. “Buy your own juice,”
“I- Seriously?” Exasperation practically drowns his voice as he speaks, and he narrows his gaze with an air of desperation that makes you want to give him exactly what he wants. “You pretend you’re going to kiss me and then tell me not to drink your goddamn orange juice? Not cool man,”
“Maybe you shoulda won the game, I don’t know what to tell you,” You shrug your shoulders with an air of nonchalance that only you would be able to muster in a situation like this, and it frustrates Buck beyond all belief.
“That’s not fair,” Buck shakes his head as he stands. “I didn’t know you were being serious,”
“Well that’s just too bad isn’t it?” You clasp your hands together with a tilt of your head.
“No, we’re not just gonna move on okay?” It’s Buck’s turn to approach you now, his hands emphasising his words as he waves them in front of himself. “I have waited so long for you to suggest you were interested in me you cannot just back out like nothing happened,”
You swerve his approach with a laugh to walk around the side of the pool table, like his frustration is the funniest thing in the world to you and not literally tearing him apart with every moment you try to brush off the lingering tension between you. “You are way too pent up about this,”
“I am the exact right amount of pent up about this,” He follows you around the table to box you in as you did him, except this time there’s really no escape as he plants his hands firmly against the edge of the table on either side of you. “You can’t just lean in like you’re going to kiss me and bail right at the last second,”
“I thought you liked the long game,” You cross your arms over your chest as a deflection from the way your heart rate quickens, trying to cover the increase in how fast your chest rises and falls under the gaze he’s trapped you in.
“I’ve played long enough,” He leans his weight on his arms, bringing his face towards yours slowly. “I need to know if I’ve won,”
“I’d say so,” Your eyes are much less confident now the roles have been reversed, struggling to maintain contact with his as his face continues its steady path towards your own.
“Prove it.” You’re close enough now that you can feel the breath from every word he speaks on your skin, and his intentions are laid out very clearly as his gaze falls from your eyes to your lips.
He is going to kiss you if you don’t do anything to stop him.
He wants to taste the mix of alcohol on salt on your lips, explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He wants to feel the heat of your palms against his cheeks as you cup his face to stop him from pulling away and make you kiss him until neither of you can breathe.
He’s waited long enough to have you like this, and after your previous stunt, he’s not sure he can physically last much longer before he explodes from the frustration.
The way his hands slide from resting on the table either side of you to holding your hips solidifies that point tenfold.
He gives your waist a soft tug until your torso collides with his, and you have to brace your hands against his shoulders to stop yourself from losing your balance and stumbling right into him.
And then he’s leaning in again, his eyes flickering over your expression to look for any trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your features before he makes the final move.
And then there’s a shot glass between your faces.
“Shots?”
Chimney, ever horrible at reading the room —probably because he’s so drunk he can barely stand upright anymore— holds up two shots towards the two of you, one in each hand. “They’re on me~” He adds that extra part at the end as the true selling point, and it takes all of Buck’s self-restraint to not knock the glasses out out Chimney’s hand to make him leave the two of you alone.
You don’t seem so agitated.
“Why thank you,” You break from Buck’s grasp to take one of the shots from Chimney’s hand, raising it in Buck’s direction. “Here’s to playing the long game,”
You down the shot quickly, leaving the empty glass on the edge of the pool table to rejoin the group at the bar, leaving Buck alone and so goddamn sexually frustrated he genuinely thinks he might pass out from the strain.
You know exactly what you’re doing by dragging this out, and he has half the mind to prove your idea of ‘safety’ from his advances in the group wrong by sending his conscience to hell and giving in to his inhibitions in front of everyone.
But he’s not quite drunk enough to push it that far. Even if most of the team wouldn’t remember it if he did.
“So that’s a no on the shot?” Chimney raises the remaining shot glass in Buck’s direction, seemingly completely oblivious to the colossal cockblock he’d just imposed.
“If you weren’t so drunk right now I would punch you I swear-” Buck huffs as he all but snatches the glass from Chimney’s hand and downs the shot in exasperation, the sharp burn in his throat doing nothing to distract him from the ache in his chest from having a possible moment from you ripped from underneath his nose again in the span of less than ten minutes.
“Woah, what did I do?” Chimney furrows his eyebrows in offence at Buck’s statement. “We’re supposed to be family man, last time I buy you anything,” He scoffs in indignation as he leaves Buck to join the rest of the group once more, clearly unhappy with Buck’s reception to his ‘gift’ of a free shot.
A free shot and a missed shot at finally making a move on you.
He knew that come your next shift you’d ignore everything that had happened tonight, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to the silent glances and subtle gestures. He wanted all of you, not just some aimless flirting that never went anywhere.
At least he had confirmation that you were in fact interested in him, that was a step forward in the right direction he supposes.
But god was the long game starting to get on his nerves.
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