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#the performance never ends until it does
holy-loki · 6 months
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so i’m sure someone might have mentioned this before and i’ve just missed it, but. i just noticed something .
so of course we remember the prelude to the circus scene, where everyone in brian’s entourage (+ curt) form this beautiful royal-esque gaudy portrait (pictured below):
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but upon reexamination of the orgy scene… (pictured below):
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obviously it’s not the EXACT same furniture (and this shot is much less vibrantly lit) but. the red and gold furniture is similar enough to suggest to me that… that the orgy is still a performance in the same (or at least similar) way the circus prelude was.
which is why brian and curt leaving the performance space and going into a private, intimate moment seems illicit. at least in the circus, the press and the people get to take part in the ‘strange’ intimacy, and make a commodity of it. but in the orgy scene? when curt gets up and goes to another room, and brian follows??? they, essentially, are leaving the stage entirely. they exist as only they will ever know, and not even us - the secret 4th wall audience - get to experience that.
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steddieas-shegoes · 23 days
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Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.
It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.
He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.
He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.
Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)
They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.
Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.
“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”
Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.
Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.
He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.
And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.
It’s nice, too nice.
Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.
Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”
“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”
And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.
It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.
“You don’t like your job.”
It’s not a question.
“Does anyone really like their job?”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”
“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”
Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.
“I…don’t know.”
“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”
So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.
“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”
Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.
“How many days are you packed for?”
“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“
“Come with me.”
“To…soundcheck?”
“On tour.”
Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.
Could he?
What was he really doing here?
He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.
And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.
Maybe he could take this chance.
Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.
What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?
She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.
“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”
“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.
“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.
“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”
“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”
“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”
“And if I want a kiss?”
“Then a kiss you’ll have.”
“And if I want you to fuck me?”
“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”
So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.
All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.
Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.
Steve finally found something he wanted.
If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.
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strawberryjelliez · 1 month
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Tracing his name over your clit | Geto x Reader
contains: cunnilingus, suguru adoring you, slight overstimulation
“Fuccckkk Sugu—” You groan, your pretty little head resting against the plush pillow while your boyfriend’s at work going down on you. Both of his large hands squeeze the flesh of your thighs in between his fingers, kneading them every second, you could already feel the sore bruises starting. “It’s late, are you sure you want to get me off right now?”
He picks his head up for a second, the shine from your arousal sticking to his lips.
“Just lay there and look pretty for me sweet girl, I just want to make you feel good, yeah?”
Without another word, his face disappears between your thighs again quickly going back to his fun. He knew this wouldn’t take long anyway, his mouth alone is enough to make you squirt all over his beautiful face. But he always made sure to take his time with you, just for his sweet girls pleasure.
You let out a sigh of pleasure while your fingers rake through his soft hair. Between him going back and forth between soft kisses peppering your clit, and then moving on to full on making out with your pussy, you would cum any moment with the way he performs his magic. Especially when you listen to the filthy wet sounds of his lips doing their job.
He does this almost every night, he must think it makes you relax more for a good nights rest. More often than not, it lead to his cock pounding desperately into you, but sometimes, like tonight, he just enjoyed mouth fucking your cunt until you fall asleep. You swore he did this more for his pleasure than your own, but in the end, you both win, so who can complain? He gets to eat you out, and you get an orgasm out of it.
Suguru pops his head up for a minute, replacing his mouth on your clit with this middle finger. His body leans upwards to you press a deep kiss to your lips, groaning into your mouth.
“Oh sweet girl, my darling love, I could make out with this pussy for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. It’s fucking mine.”
And with that, Suguru’s mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue lapping up every bit of your arousal. You feel him smirk against you, and then his tongue work unfamiliar motions over your clit… as if he was spelling out a word.
Your eyebrows knit together in ecstasy, realizing what he spelled out. His name.
Suguru.
With the realization of him marking you, plus the new motions of his tongue… you come undone just like that, cumming in his mouth.
Suguru licks and sucks gently, helping you all the way through your orgasm until the pleasure becomes overstimulation, your thighs shaking and Suguru having to hold them still to continue going down on you.
“N- no Sugu— too tired now—”
Suguru stops what he’s doing and his eyes soften at how beautiful you look.
“You sure pretty? Hm? I can fuck that pretty face of yours to sleep again.”
“N- no— I can’t handle this tonight… sleepy..” You moan out, squeezing your thighs together to get Suguru to stop his actions.
Suguru offers a sweet smile, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling. He pulls himself up next to you and presses a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Another time, then.”
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satorhime · 1 year
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front row seat + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : minors do not interact, f!reader, explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes ( internal view / satoru uses his six eyes ), messy sex, squirting, mating press. w.c ˓˓ 2k ˓˓
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything.
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“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?” 
he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you. 
in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,
but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied. 
his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.  
his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see. 
a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–
so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.” 
“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.
how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.
this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel? 
the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords. 
“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—
“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.
but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.” 
“w… wh- i am a good girl-”
“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?” 
he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.
sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.
“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”
“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.” 
“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.” 
“i- hng, can’t-!”
it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.
“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?” 
“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze.
“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here, ” he babbles desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?”
“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-”
“shut up, angel face. you’re about to make me miss the best part of the movie.”
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wonryllis · 26 days
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✶ ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR IDOL!S/O
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. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ idol!enhypen staking their claim publicly. fem!r. fluff, fluffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 677. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he makes a song for you as a birthday gift and posts it on soundcloud as a surprise, tweeting about it as "my gift for you, love" and everyone is loses it because one it's sounds too intimate for it to be about fans and two it's your birthday. there's so much rumours and people shipping you both and dying over how sweet and boyfie heeseung is. literally in a day there's edits going around and fans finally notice the subtle signs. later on with the company's permission he reveals it at a show when asked about the song.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he won't, trust he would never want to let the relationship go public knowing the hate you both could possibly get. so if fans ever come to know of it, then it is through the early dispatch tradition of revealing celeb couples. he will let the company handle it first and check up on how you are doing. then when things have calmed down a bit he will personally write a letter in his classic style expressing his love both for you and his fans and how much you both mean to him, his two worlds.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he's so unserious but serious as well? like he will make sure by his life he doesn't get caught with you in public. but he will have these love sick eyes and smitten face while looking at you during shows and tiktok challenges and when he's watching you perform and when your song comes up anywhere. fans had always been suspicious of the guy being absolutely in love and their first guess was someone from your group and it was proved when you both mutually decided to make an official statement.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 my guy will literally drop the bomb through an social media post, twitter, weverse, instagram any or all he'll post a picture of you both from behind the scenes from an interaction you had in the past captioned "my girl!" and the just dip. fans won't hear from him for a week until he accidentally pops into one of the members' live. probably jungwon who asks him how he's doing and he'll go like yeah life's been great, i just came back from a date with y/n, it was fun. jungwon left stunned.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 he constantly wants to make it public but the pr team just wouldn't let him? so he decides to do the undo, he runs home on a weekend, invites you with him and does a live with you together! let the pr team be damned, ignoring the calls and messages as you both giggle while starting a new live every time the staff ends it. making the fans go crazy over the situation when they put two and two together and figure it all out. he'll also simultaneously answer the fans' questions on weverse.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 he will literally beg the management to let you both attend a show together most probably something like running man and then he will make a sneaky little perfect plan to show the fans just how good and compatible you two look, playing the knight in shining armour and helping you even though you are in the opposing team. he just wants to convey silently to everyone his love for you through his actions before he drops the ultimate news through an official announcement.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 it was accidental, completely an accident. he just meant to change the twitter account layout to prank the fans but instead of the ugly picture of one of his hyungs, he ended up putting a picture of you both from your last date. and even though it was only for a few minutes before he changed, fans had already taken screenshots and tons of rumours had already started spreading. so he says fuck it and after going through the reactions for a few hours he's posting the same pic again, texting you about it later as if you haven't already been flooded by your fans.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries
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vasilissadragomir · 5 months
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people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.
snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.
ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?
so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.
and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.
but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.
by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.
snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.
but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.
and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.
katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.
lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.
katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.
only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.
the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.
and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.
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rebelspykatie · 9 months
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Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level. 
But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie. 
Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them. 
Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms. 
Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face. 
And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery. 
How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away. 
As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that? 
He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine. 
But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated. 
But maybe he’ll always be the fool.
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oct0bra1ns · 5 months
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Ice stained with blood
Synopsis: His ice cold heart was only for you Pairing: Yandere figure skater x ex figure skater turned manager! reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others, yanderes notes: im proud of this, way too much reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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Yandere Figure Skater! who thought nothing of you when he first saw you, people came into the world and barely lasted the first two months, he expected the same from you - a nobody who’d stay a nobody.
Yandere Figure Skater! Who was proved wrong when you quickly gained enough skill to rival him, even people who joined years before you had yet to reach his level.
Yandere Figure Skater! Who realised you had put in so much work, because this was something your parents sacrificed everything for to give to you, unlike him who would gladly skip training to go hang out.
Yandere Figure Skater! Who notices the glares you give him when he shows up late to practise and is let off easily when the coaches yell at you for making even the smallest mistake. He knows damn well how much it annoys you and boy does he love the way your face fills up with scorn.
Yandere Figure Skater! Who didn’t even bother to learn your name until he was paired with you to represent the nation, who for once saw you smile, a smile so bright it almost melted his ice cold heart.
Yandere Figure Skater! Who was a pain in the ass to be partners with, everything you did, this man would criticise you but god forbid the Coach say anything to you in front of him, he’d make sure the Coach would resign from the verbal lashing they’d get.
Yandere Skater! has been in a lot of competitions and doesn’t get nervous before performances and he knows you do, so when you rush off to the washroom he doesn’t think much of it.
Yandere Figure Skater who sighs, glancing at the time again, you had gone to the washroom and had yet to return, your time to perform was nearing and he could hear the coach trying their best not to lose their cool. He was well aware that the coach was itching to scold you but they wouldn’t dare, not in front of him.
Yandere Figure Skater who was going to tell his coach to sit down instead of pacing around and annoying him but was interrupted by a  familiar piercing scream from the direction you went. Never in his life had he ran this fast, never has his heart pounded so hard in his chest.
Yandere Figure Skater whose heart dropped to his chest when he saw you on the ground, clutching your ankles, tears pouring out of your eyes. He wasted no  time  rushing towards you, shoving the pests that crowded you instead of helping you.
Yandere Figure Skater who picks you up, rushing to the infirmary while demanding you to tell him who the hell did this to you. Whoever it was, would fear his wrath, he’d make sure they’d beg for death.
Yandere Figure Skater who tries to comfort you during your recovery only for you to end up lashing out at him at how this was all you had, how much you sacrificed for this, about how he had no idea how devastating it was to almost have everything and then have it ripped out from your hands.
Yandere Figure Skater who doesn’t get mad at you, assuring you, you’d get to return one way or another, he’d make sure of it. What you didn’t expect was to be brought back as his manager. What initially was painful for you, to see what you had lost, eventually turned into a comfort, the rink, the crowd, the various competitors in the noise, you found a solace.
Yandere Figure Skater who asks your opinion for everything, after all, you're his manager, you know best. If anyone wants him to do anything, they’d have to talk to you and you would have to agree to it.
Yandere Figure Skater who shuts down every newspaper that dares speak ill of you or your retirement. He has the influence and he will use it and the reporter who published the article will be dealt with .
Yandere Figure Skater Who dedicates all his wins towards you and only you, everybody else is irrelevant.
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yvnaology · 5 months
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LANGAGE D’AMOUR: HOW THEY LOVE!
LANGAGE D’AMOUR: love languages, how they show their innermost emotions that make your heart melt and your cheeks burn. it’s how they show their appreciation for you, in their own special way.
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CHARACTERS. fontaine cast (lyney, lynette, freminet, wriothesley, clorinde, neuvillette, navia, charlotte & furina.)
CONTENT WARNINGS. tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst in navia’s + slight spoilers if you haven’t done the archon quests, established relationships, not proofread.
EXTRAS. last time i’ve ever even attempted writing was in july, it’s DECEMBER. please bear with me & my rusty weaving of (mostly) fluffy tales! 🫶🏼✨
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I. ❝ MAY YOU BE REWARDED WITH TANGIBLE ITEMS, MY DEAREST ! ❞
GIFT GIVING: people with a gift-giving love language prefer to be shown love through the act of giving and receiving gifts. (furina, freminet.)
FURINA brightens up at the slightest glimmer of joy in your eyes when she expresses how the item inside the box in her hands resembles you. Regardless of value, Furina expresses her utmost adoration by giving you a myriad of tangible presents. Her presence at your doorstep painted a spot of joy on your cheek, much more so when she presented you with a beautifully wrapped offering — her look of anticipation for your reaction inciting a giggle to escape your lips. Reward her with words of appreciation or even a kiss, would you? The prominence of a reddened hue on her cheeks and how she would act as if such an action didn’t have much of an effect, betrayed by the pounding feeling in her chest . . . is well worth it.
FREMINET whose diving expeditions never came out empty-handed. Whenever the urge rises to the surface, he finds himself delicately weaving matching bracelets or necklaces using romaritime flowers and beryl conches for the two of you. He wears the most flustered expression you’ve ever seen when he presents them to you, a token of his appreciation. When you wear his handmade jewelry with a twinkle in your eyes, he feels his heart warm indefinitely. Neither of you can explain the twitch of the corners of your lips, when a sudden collaborative effort ends with his mechanical penguin friend, Pers, having an addition to its design, a lumitoile necklace.
II. ❝ MY APPRECIATION COMES IN DOING, ASSISTING, AND SERVICE ! ❞
ACTS OF SERVICE: people with an acts of service language love language show love by doing something for their partner that they know they would like. (wriothesley, lyney, clorinde.)
CLORINDE, who does not express her inner worries whenever you walk across the streets of the nation of Hydro — and nonchalantly offers to accompany you to ensure your safety. You notice how the corners of her lips twitch into a small smile when you accept, her expression mirrored on your face. She’ll listen attentively to your woes, joys, or rambles while keeping a hand on the hilt of her sword in case of an emergency. If danger does arise, you will be sure that the Champion Duelist will resolve the issue while keeping your person a safe distance from the root cause. Any doubts will immediately diminish, and her question of ‘are you alright?’ gives you butterflies, but I guess that makes two.
LYNEY, who presents you with a magic trick at the sight of your tears, tips his hat and winks as he performs the way he would for the bawling children. A sense of wonder would overcome your senses and distract you from the cause of your woes, as he gently takes a rose from behind your ear — a flick of his finger and suddenly your hair becomes a holding place for an abundance of rose petals. The moment a smile is etching on your features, Lyney knows he has done something right. Your flushed cheeks give him the motivation to continue until you’re left with a racing heart from something that wasn’t a monster in the form of anxiety. He’ll spoil you with his tricks, wonderous and extravagant at heart, and finally press his lips against your dampened cheek at the end of his performance.
WRIOTHESLEY who constantly pats the cushion of the chair for you before you sit, ensuring its comfort. He prepares a cup of your preferred morning drink every day, much to your delight. His actions have their way of making you smile, something he will forever be grateful for. Wriothesley, who puts a hand on the small of your back or around your waist as you two walk around the Fortress of Meropide — such a question as ‘why?’ crosses your mind once or twice, but the moment you ask . . . his response is vague. It’s his intention to leave you in the loop of questions while your blood rushes to your cheeks. You feel him tightening his hold on you only slightly, noticing the small grin appearing as you point it out — earning a small snort from him.
III. ❝ MY TIME IS YOURS TO CHERISH, TO CREATE MEMORIES FROM, LOVE. ❞
QUALITY TIME: people who have quality time as their love language, time itself holds a great significance to them and their relationship, as the clock ticks — there is not a moment they’d like to waste with you. (neuvillette, charlotte, lynette and navia.)
NAVIA, who cherishes the times she’s made macarons with you, inviting you to gatherings that the Spina Di Rosula held, even the times when you’ve had to watch her break down in tears of reminiscence of her losses. She appreciates you, for accompanying her to her father’s grave, and for agreeing to have a picnic near the area where memories of sorrow lay bare. Navia keeps you close, unable to fathom the idea of another person being taken from her. As proud of a lover as she was, she feels herself fearing and doubting more often than not. All of your smiles, laughter, joys, and tears are things she will forever find herself admiring. You only live once, and she plans to spend every waking moment by your side.
CHARLOTTE, who captures what she considers to be the best moments of your relationship on camera. Time is a precious thing, unable to be wasted and regretted — as she takes you by the hand, she wonders if the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest will remain within the next five or ten years. She’ll fondly look over the pictures she’d taken, a few of them capturing your.. rather expressive emotions. A picture of your pout, frown, and smile — yet she can’t possibly choose a favorite out of all of them. Whenever her camera flashes in your eye, the expression she wears is almost.. soft. The moments that she’s the most quiet, even she feels the need to become a romantic, intertwining your fingers in hers.
NEUVILLETTE, who finds himself learning about human emotions as time goes on — observation, mental note-taking, until he finds one he couldn’t decipher or describe in words: love. The feeling of euphoria only existed in your presence, such intensity took him a while to come to terms with — all because of your smile. His role in Fontaine is complex, and he finds himself wishing that time would stop for both of you. Every free minute he has, he will always choose to spend with you, oh lovely you. The melusines aren’t the only ones who take note of his longing gaze, causing you to visit the Palais Mermonia frequently. His smile reflects yours, as his wish for another minute by your side had been granted.
LYNETTE, who often invites you over for tea parties, whether it be with the company of her siblings — or simply a moment for the two of you to enjoy. She’ll prepare you the best brew she has, along with a few desserts she knows are to your liking. She makes sure the atmosphere is comfortable, waiting intently for you to start the conversation. Regardless of the topic of the words that escape your lips, she is there to attentively listen to every word without fail. Your secrets are safe with her, guarded by her undying love for you. She isn’t the best at comforting, nor is she the kind to sugarcoat her opinion, but her small tea parties are almost equivalent to relaxation sessions. They allow her to pamper you in her own ways, just as you deserve.
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© ywalara 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate any of my work without my consent.
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aphrogeneias · 3 months
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...right? — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.
word count: 3k
warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.
author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.
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We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.
You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.
Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.
Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”
She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”
“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.
The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.
You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Then, it was their time to groan.
Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.
It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.
You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.
That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.
No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.
It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.
That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.
He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.
A brave knight, that Eddie is.
Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?
The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.
“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”
“You say that because he's your friend.”
“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”
You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.
“You should go, by the way.”
Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.
“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”
You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.
They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.
You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.
The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.
He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”
“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”
You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.
Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”
“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”
When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.
“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.
The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”
“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”
Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”
“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”
There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”
“Baby, I'll…”
The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.
You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”
Nodding, you remain frozen in place.
They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.
You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.
He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.
To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.
He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.
It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.
You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.
“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.
You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.
“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”
He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.
“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."
If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.
You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.
"...right?"
“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”
“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”
You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.
Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”
“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”
Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.
“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”
“But, Eddie, I…”
“Think about it, and call me when you know.”
One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.
The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.
Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.
As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.
In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.
You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.
You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.
It doesn't take long until you spiral.
You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.
Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.
Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.
You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.
“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”
Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”
There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”
When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.
You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.
Two notifications from Eddie.
Can I come over?
Are you still up?
Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.
The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.
You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.
Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.
You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”
Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.
“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”
“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”
“The guys. At work. Wayne…”
“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.
“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”
There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.
“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”
“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.
“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”
Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”
“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.
“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”
He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.
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799 notes · View notes
glorysbox · 7 months
Text
bihan x afab!reader (no pronouns used)
wc: 1.1k
warnings: explicitly 18+, bihan is mean, slight mention of power imbalance, slightly possessive bihan, coming inside, brief breeding mention at the end
Your Grandmaster is stressed.
It’s evident in the way his hips snap into your own, his cock buried in the warmth of your sex. Evident in the way he has little regard for your feelings or your own pleasure—clearly displayed in the cruel way he fucks into you and the punishingly cold grip that he has on your body. It stings—the icy feeling of his fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips.
“You belong under me,” his voice is low and even, nearly drowned out by the obscenely wet sounds that have you clenching tightly around him. “Be glad that you have this opportunity.”
You don’t respond. It’s not like you can, anyway—your face is buried into the mat of the floor, lips bitten as you desperately try to prevent any moans that Bi-han forces out of you. Your wetness pools around the base of his cock, sticky strings breaking with each pull out of you and reforming with each brutal push inside of you. It dribbles down, down your thighs, staining the mat under the both of you. Messy enough to be clinging to his balls and painting his thighs. Had you not been turned away from him—face down and ass up—you’d be able to notice the way he’s struggling to hold back the noises that threaten to escape his throat. You’d be able to see the way he bites his lip; see the way that his eyebrows are so tightly drawn together and see the way his cheeks are painted a rosy shade of pink. There’s a reason why he only fucks you from behind.
You are glad, though. It’s beyond you why Bi-han has taken such a liking to specifically you—despite being Lin Kuei, you perform significantly worse than your peers and struggle to keep up with the intensive training that you’re all forced to endure every day. It’s clear that he only keeps you around for one reason. Stress relief.
There’s a part of him that secretly relishes in the way you’re so much weaker than he is.
Bi-han doesn’t ever touch you. Doesn’t truly ever lay claim to your body through possessive touches as much as you secretly would like—but you don’t complain. You never complain. The fact that your Grandmaster comes to you of all people to relieve his stress is enough—and you do your best to help him. You really do. It’s not shown on his face, evident in his words or displayed in his actions, but Bi-han does truly enjoy how easily you bend to his will. He finds himself reveling in how easily controlled you are—and you don’t mind. You never do. It’s okay for him to use you… he is your Grandmaster, after all.
Cold fingers snake their way up your body, resting on your back—dipping in the center to push you further towards the ground. You shudder. Bi-han, for once, decides to not be (so) rough with you. This time, he won’t bury your face into the mat and grip your hair and force you to take the brutal pace of his cock until you’re cumming all over him. He’s in a good mood today.
Bi-han takes advantage of the way he’s forced you to arch under him, his cock drilling into you faster and a tad bit harder than before—the loud noises of your arousal probably audible to anyone who’d walk by the room. You can’t help but whine at this. It’s unintentional. Something that you can’t hold back… usually, you’re better at keeping yourself quiet. Bi-han likes it when you’re quiet. That’s what you thought, at least.
“Who’s your Grandmaster?” Bi-han’s hand grips your hair, pulling you back and forcing your neck to crane. He’s not feeling so benevolent anymore. His pace increases, his cock pumping inside of you harshly enough to the point where you can’t help but moan. He makes an effort to tilt his hips ever so slightly—the blunt tip of his cock rubbing alongside the spots he knows makes you cream around him. For someone that claims to only care for his own pleasure… he knows your body very, very well. Your walls flutter and clench around his cock, hands clawing at the mat below you as his grip in your hair tightens. His tone is gravelly—low—and you find a strong feeling of need throbbing in your lower body at the sound of his voice. “Say it. Don’t disappoint me.”
You could never dream of it.
“B—Bi-han…” Your voice comes out as a long, drawn out whine. You’re usually more mindful of your volume—but the feeling of him pressing into you like this, so relentlessly—you can’t help it. Hands gripping the mat to steady yourself, there’s nothing to stop the sounds that you make from escaping. You try to bite your lip—but he just presses deeper into you. Making you whine more. Your body trembles under him—legs shaking—as he draws back to plunge further into you especially roughly.
Bi-han is starting to find that he doesn’t mind listening to the sound of you moaning under him like this.
“You belong to me,” he reiterates, his hand moving from your hair towards the junction of your legs. Cool fingertips make their way towards the bud in between your legs—two of his fingers rubbing your clit in soft circles, a stark contrast to the punishing pace that he’s set for you. “No other man can have you like this. Say it.”
“Y—yours,” your words come out in babbles, barely intelligible as you struggle—squirming and writhing under him as he toys with your clit and drills inside of you. “Yours—I’m—”
The feeling is too much. His cold fingers ghosting along your clit—the other hand gripping your hips harshly enough to leave bruises. It doesn’t take a long time for your squirming to become borderline uncontrollable; matching the way your walls flutter and tighten around him like a vice and matching the way your cream and arousal stain his cock. Bi-han fucks you through it. He always does—more focused on finishing himself than having any regard for you—his hips stuttering at the feeling of you creaming around him and his grip on your hip tightening even more.
He stuffs his cock inside of you, burying himself to the hilt—leaving no space between the both of you. You can feel his seed leaking inside of you—it’s warm, and hot, and unfamiliar.
“You’ll give me a son.” He tells you, voice akin to a demand as his grip on your hips keeps you in place.
Who are you to deny your Grandmaster?
2K notes · View notes
belovedguk · 13 days
Text
i’m drunk, i love you
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↪˚ summary: with only a day before graduation, you make a promise that you will not only graduate from university, but also from your feelings for your best friend of seven years, jeon jungkook.
↪˚ pairing: film student!jungkook x med tech student!fem!oc (named sola)
↪˚ genres: heavy angst, unrequited love, jungkook as an isko agenda, set in the ph 🇵🇭
↪˚ warnings: this story is fiction. it does not represent the members of bangtan or any of the idols here in real life. all resemblance to real life characters, institutions, associations, places, events, among others are either purely coincidence or depicted in a fictitious manner only. there’s really no warnings for this story other than it’s a self-indulgent fic to get me back to writing. the smut isn’t that severe. just kissing, nipple sucking, and grinding. this is based on the film, i’m drunk i love you, which i highly recommend you watch. i didn’t alter much of the plot & scenes bc i think they’re already great as it is, but i did tweak a bit here and there. i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think by reblogging/commenting. ♡
↪˚ total word count: 5,784
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You were never quite the believer in love at first sight, but what you felt that night was the closest thing to that feeling. 
He was one of the freshmen performers during your orientation, singing Adam Levine’s Lost Stars. Like the entire audience, you were captivated by his heavenly vocals and charisma as he performed on stage with an acoustic guitar one of the seniors lent him. Not only that, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t bad looking either—quite the opposite, really. 
However, after the orientation, you didn’t get to see much of the dark-haired handsome boy. You were studying at UP, the biggest state university in the country, and so your paths were bound not to cross. Until, your older cousin, who was a senior at that time, invited you to eat dinner with him and a couple of his buddies after seeing you strolling around campus alone. When you arrived at the eatery, you not only saw your cousin Yoongi’s friends—Yijeong and Woosung—you also spotted the boy who hadn’t left your mind since you saw him over four months ago at that time. 
You sat across from him and you tried your best not to freak out as Yoongi introduced the both of you. Apparently, he had already known Jungkook because he was the younger stepbrother of his other friend, Namjoon. During the course of your dinner, you and Jungkook didn’t really talk much. But you would muster up the courage to ask him some basic questions such as his program, why he went to UP, if he joined any orgs yet, etcetera. Jungkook was polite enough to answer your inquiries. 
He was a Film major. He went to UP because everyone in his family went to UP so it was the most obvious choice for him and he was a member of the Film society. In return, Jungkook asked the same set of questions. You were a pre-med student, Medical Technology, to be exact, and you went to UP because it was your dream school. You were also a member of the College of Arts and Sciences’ student council. 
After your meal was finished, Yoongi entrusted your care to Jungkook as they were going to meet up with some of their friends and you were both living at campus dormitories anyway. So, you hopped into his old army green Toyota Rav4 and needless to say, the ride back to UP was awkward. So, to get rid of the awkward silence, you asked if you could play some music. He said sure and handed you the aux cord already connected to his stereo. Once you had the other end connected to your phone, you played one of your favorite songs—Waltz of Four Left Feet by Shirebound and Busking. 
To your surprise, Jungkook also knew the song and just like that, the awkward silence was gone and you became inseparable ever since. 
Music became the bridge that connected you and Jungkook. Whenever you would hangout, it was always your topic—your favorite artists, songs, original scores in films, best albums, underrated artists, overrated artists, the current state of music, everything. He also became your gig buddy—seeking out mainstream and indie artists you both liked and going to their live performances downtown bars, jam packed arenas and stadiums. 
But your favorite would always be watching him perform. After his performance at the orientation, he naturally became one of the popular students at UP. He wasn’t popular like a celebrity or an influencer, but heads would turn whenever he walked around campus. Also, he still had the luxury of privacy on his side, but if you looked at the right places, you would find small accounts on social media dedicated to him. He didn’t care for the attention, though, and just went about his day as normally as possible. 
His performance did land him some gigs here and there. You found it cute whenever he’d turn to you to ask if he should accept the invitation or not, and you would always tell him to do whatever he wanted. Most of the time, he accepted, especially if it was at Route 96, a historic venue for aspiring musicians. 
It was here that he performed the first song he wrote by himself called Still With You. It was also during this performance that you began to see him in a different light—quite literally. He was performing with the bar lights off, only the lights on stage and the spotlight illuminated the entire establishment. When the spotlight on him turned purple, you felt a whole new admiration for your best friend. It wasn’t the “Oh god I’m so proud of my best friend” kind, rather it was the “Oh fuck I’m in love with my best friend” realization. 
But like every other story where someone falls in love with their best friend, you kept your feelings hidden, hoping someday it would go away. However, you soon realized, once you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook, there was no going back. It was a rabbit hole. 
The more you spent time with him, the more you fell in love with him and all of him—from the way he smiles to the sound of his laugh, how he would always annoy the shit out of you when you were supposed to be studying to how he would remember small things about you like your favorite snack at the vending machine, how you’d be the first to know his test results to how you’d be his first audience for the short film they needed to produce for that semester, how he would lend you his jacket when you ate bingsu because he knew you’d get cold easily to how he’d send you random memes he found funny out of the blue. 
It was so easy to fall in love with Jeon Jungkook. Thus, everyone else did too. For seven years, you watched on the sidelines as he dated several girls and loved them how you wished he’d love you. 
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“In one day, you can finally lay your hands on Jungkook,” your best friend, Mingyu, teased as he took a sip from his beer. 
You let out a sarcastic laugh, head resting on your palm, elbow propped on the wooden table in front of you, a bottle of beer in the other hand. You were bordering on getting tipsy now as you had been drinking since you arrived at La Union with Mingyu and Jungkook in the afternoon. You didn’t even know why you agreed to your best friend’s idea of going to the province for a music festival when you had your graduation—the very graduation that was seven years in the making—on Sunday.   
“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu,” you told the honey-skinned man across from you with a chuckle. 
“What? Let this be your final test before finally graduating. Are you ready?” a lopsided grin appeared on his handsome face. 
Under the orange light, Kim Mingyu was easily one of the most handsome men you ever laid your eyes on. He was also tall, well-mannered, smart, capable, had a stable job while being a med student, and the textbook definition of a walking green flag. In another life, you could imagine yourself falling for him instead of Jungkook. But in the current universe you were in, he was one of your trusted friends who had known about your crush on Jungkook since first year. 
The waiter arrived to bring you your order of another bucket of Red Horse beer. Mingyu took a bottle from the silver bucket and opened it. “Happy horse for the happy whore,” he told you as he handed you the fresh bottle of beer. You gave him a middle finger. He laughed. “What? Am I not right?” 
“You’re the whore,” you replied. “I saw you with that cute chinito by the beach earlier. What happened to Mino?” 
He rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex—or you believed was his ex. You never really know with Mingyu and relationships. He was the complete opposite of you. While you were a hopeless romantic at heart, he didn’t believe in love—or so he says. 
“Seven years,” Mingyu mused, glancing towards the beach. “You didn’t stop falling in love with your best friend. Now, it looks like you don’t even plan to stop.” 
You sucked your teeth, tracing the water around the bottle due to the ice with your fingers. “Do I just throw it away?” You weren’t sure if you were asking Mingyu or yourself. “We make a good pair.” You laughed to yourself. 
“Except?” Mingyu pointed out the harsh reality. 
“Except,” you took in a shaky breath. “He doesn’t love me back. Maybe.” 
Mingyu sighed deeply, looking at his watch. “Time check: you still have your hopes up.” 
“It’s still early,” you argued. “I still have two days. Just give me time.” 
“Give me time?” Mingyu repeated, taking a sip from his beer. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sola? The universe has given you all the time. But you did nothing.” 
You groaned, throwing your head back as a realization hit you. “Fuck, Gyu, I just—I just realized. Is it right that we’re here? Was it the right decision to come here? My mom’s gonna be so mad once she finds out I’m in La Union.”  
“It’s all you. You’re a raging masochist,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway. Let’s just play a game. Let’s enumerate all the things you did with Jungkook. Those are seven years worth of memories, Sola. Game?” 
“Game.” 
“What year did you first meet Jungkook?” 
A smile immediately creeped up on your face. “2017.” 
Mingyu waved his hand at you. “Wow! You can do math! But I just thought of something—instead of just general memories. Let’s make them specific. Let’s list down all the stupid things you did for Jungkook for seven years.” 
“The fuck are you talking about?” you let out a scoff, drinking your beer. 
“What? Now you can’t remember?” he challenged. 
You clicked your tongue. “Fine, you stupid bitch. Ask away.” 
Mingyu grinned. “2018.” 
You hummed before saying, “Jungkook was heartbroken that year. I was back at home and he was at UP. But I rushed into the city to be there for him. I remember because I was supposed to attend this baptism with my parents but I snuck out and got an earful from my mother the next day. I was completely hungover too because Jungkook and I went bar hopping the entire night.” 
“Jesus Christ, Sola.” 
“Don’t judge me. It was my decision, okay?” 
Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Okay. 2019.” 
You stared at Mingyu, laughing as you recalled the memory. “2019. Me and Jungkook walked from UP to Aurora Boulevard just to tell me how Song Areum became his girlfriend.” 
He shook his head. “2020.” 
“2020—he was sick. I had an exam that day, but I quickly answered it so I could buy him his favorite, Tapsilog from Tapsi ni Vivian, before it ran out ‘cos it runs out quickly, right?” Mingyu nodded. You licked your lower lip then let out a small laugh. “But when I got to his dorm room, his roommate already told me Areum brought him to the university hospital. And I failed my exam ‘cos I didn’t answer the back part.” 
“2021, go!” 
“I loved him for four years now and counting. Is that good enough?” 
“Okay. I’ll accept it. 2022?” 
“2022—I’ve been in love with him for five fucking years already, fucking shit!” you exclaimed, feeling the alcohol in you boosting your confidence. 
“Okay. We’re in the last year, girl. What about in 2023? What was the stupid thing you did for Jungkook last year?” 
You gulped. “I’m two years delayed.” 
Mingyu exhaled deeply. A moment of silence settled between the two of you. Then, she asked, “Sola, it all boils down to this: when will you end this?” 
You sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “You mean when will I stop with my foolishness?” Mingyu nodded. You purse your lips. “Maybe when I’m done with UP. When I’m done with UP, I’ll graduate from everything—including him. Especially him.” 
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When you got back to your shared room with Jungkook and Mingyu, you were already tipsy. You almost fell face flat on the floor when you opened the door, feeling lightheaded, but luckily, your best friend was there to catch you. 
“You’re drunk, Sola,” Jungkook chuckled deeply. You could smell his expensive cologne—the one you bought for him for his birthday last year and it brought a huge grin on your face, knowing he wore it. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 
“I’m fine, Guk. I’m not that drunk. But I do need to sit down,” you said followed by a set of giggles as you let Jungkook walk you to the bed you shared with Mingyu, and then you threw yourself on it, back against the mattress, arms spread like an eagle. 
Jungkook sat down beside you. “Are you still mad at me?” 
The question seemed to sober you up instantly. The truth was—you could never stay mad at him. For anything. Sometimes, you’d think he could do the most painful and hurtful thing to you, deliberately, and you would still forgive him even if he wouldn’t apologize. 
“I wasn’t mad. I was just… I just wished you would’ve told me the real reason why you wanted to come here,” you replied softly, biting your lower lip. 
“Would you have come? If I told you I wanted to go here because my ex wanted to reconnect—would you have come?” Jungkook matched your tone, looking over his shoulder to look at you. 
Instinctively, your eyes also darted towards his. The lights in the room were dim, only the lamp, the light coming beneath the bathroom door, and the moonlight outside illuminated the room. Jungkook looked especially beautiful in the dim light—long black wavy hair all messy from his habit of running his fingers through it, hooded eyes staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you, the gentleness of his features made him look like an angel in this light. 
But then you’d see his dozens of piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lower lip; his tattooed arm and hand, and the way he looked sexy as hell with his thin white long sleeved, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his white beach shorts that hugged his strong muscular thighs, and you’d realize he was more of a Greek god than an angel. 
“I’ll go wherever you go,” you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know that.” 
Jungkook lied down beside you and you felt your heartbeat racing. His tattooed arm was brushing against yours. His head was tilted, close to yours. 
“Will you go with me to the moon?” he asked. 
A small smile ghosted on your lips. “I will, Guk.” 
“How about Saturn?” 
“I’ll be with you there, too.” 
“Law school?” 
You turned your head to him. He was already looking at you. “Law school? Why?” 
He brushed the hair on your face aside with his fingers, making you tense. But you kept your composure. “I passed UP LAE.” 
“But,” you began. “What about film? I thought you didn’t wanna become a lawyer like your parents.” 
Jungkook looked at the ceiling. “It’s not that bad. Being a lawyer. Besides, I like studying.” 
“You’ve always wanted to become a director, though.” 
“I’m not good enough for it,” Jungkook scoffed. “All my batchmates are already directing their films and showing them at festivals here and abroad—yet here I am. Still here.” 
You turned on your side, propping your elbow to support your head as you looked at your best friend. It was rare for Jungkook to open up. Even to you. He was always someone who kept all his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself. In the seven years you’d known him, it still felt like there was a wall around him that you never managed to climb on or punch through. For seven years, it felt like you simultaneously knew everything and nothing about your best friend. 
“It’s not the end of the road, Jungkook. So what if they’re showing their films at festivals? You can do it too. At your own pace, in your own time,” you said. You wanted to reach for his face, to make him look at you, but you were scared. “You’re a great filmmaker, Guk. The best direk ever.” 
He looked at you once again. “You’re drunk, Yu Sola. Go to sleep.” 
He sat up, carrying your legs over the bed. You let out a groan. “I’m not drunk, Jeon Jungkook. Why do you always do that?” 
“Do what?” he asked, chuckling. 
“You always cut the conversation when you’re beginning to open up. You always clamp up, Guk. I wish you didn’t do that. I’m your—,” you bit the inside of your lower lip. What right did I have to demand him to open up to me? “I’m your best friend.” 
“I don’t clamp up. I just have nothing else to say,” your best friend replied with a shrug, fixing his hair as he looked in the mirror across from your bed. “Go to sleep. You’ll get a massive headache tomorrow. I’m just going to meet with Areum and her friends.”  
Then, you blurted it out. It just happened. You didn’t even know how. You always had this grand idea in your mind to do it after the graduation ceremony, that way, you could immediately leave. That way, you didn’t have to see him all the time. You would have enough time to move on and move forward in your life. 
But nothing in life truly went according to plan. 
“I love you, Jungkook,” you confessed. Your heart felt heavy and you sat up, head hanging low as you picked on your nails. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes. “I’ve loved you for seven years now.” 
And you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. Then, moments later, you felt your hands being taken away from your face. You lifted your head and saw Jungkook kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. He let one go to wipe away the tears on your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
And then, ever so slowly, Jungkook leaned in and kissed you softly. A tear rolled down your cheek. His lips were soft while yours were chapped and wet from your tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still in shock. This was not the response you expected. Not even in your wildest dreams but it was happening. 
Jungkook held your face, tilting his head as he continued to kiss you more—only this time with more need and passion. Your body reacted. You began to reciprocate his kisses, hands wrapping around his wrists. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash. 
He pushed you onto the bed, one hand remaining on your face while the other held your waist. Your fingers curled the ends of his hair. You could feel his growing member on your stomach and feeling it was enough to make your cunt wet. His lips then traveled on your jaw, down to your neck. You were breathing heavily as he nibbled on your sensitive skin, making a soft moan escape your lips. 
His hand made its way under your shirt and your breath hitched, causing Jungkook to lift his head from your neck, and look you in the eyes. 
“You okay?” he asked softly. 
You nodded. “I’m okay.” 
“Okay,” he smiled, making your heart skip a beat. “Is it okay if I take this off now?” 
“I—,” you were at a loss for words. Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. But it was happening and you wanted it more than anything else. “Okay. Yes, you can.” 
Jungkook peeled your shirt off, exposing your naked chest. You didn’t wear bras; found it too much of a hassle and you always hated the feeling. Instead, you wore nipple tapes. 
“What are these, Sola?” Jungkook asked with a chuckle, making your cheeks heat up. 
“They’re nipple tapes, you dumb ass,” you replied, smacking his arm lightly. 
“Okay. Do I just take them off, like, tape?” 
He was adorably cute. “Yes, you just take them off like tape.” 
And so he did just that. The coolness of the room and your arousal instantly perked your nipples. Jungkook took your breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them, making you arch your back ever so slightly. Then, he dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while remaining to massage the other. 
The sensation was simply divine. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system, your feelings for your best friend, or just Jungkook in general that made you feel so good at that moment. Your hands traced the outline of his toned biceps through his thin polo. 
You were so wet and when Jungkook began to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt, you felt another wave of wetness. You wanted him—all of him—and so you began to rock your hips against him, making him release a moan. 
He lifted his head, staring at you with those doe eyes you have loved for seven years. “Are you sure?” 
Those three words held so much. Once you crossed the line, there was no going back, and both of you knew that. 
“I’m sure. I want this, Guk. I want you.” 
That was all he needed to hear to make love to you the whole night. Once both of you came, Jungkook laid beside you, chest heaving. For a while, the both of you lay in silence. 
“Will you be here in the morning?” you asked, turning your head on the pillow to face him. 
He did the same. “I will,” he promised. “Go to sleep now, Sola.” 
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But he wasn’t. 
When you woke up the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. You sat up, burying your face in your hands. What the hell have I done? What the hell have we done? 
You left the bed, entering the bathroom, and proceeding to take a shower. In there, you cried, because nothing was going to be the same after last night. You couldn’t blame it all on Jungkook either. You also made it happen. You desperately wished it was just a dream—another wet dream you had of your best friend—but the traces of his cum were still on your inner thigh. 
It happened. There was no going back. Everything was going to be different now and most of all, you didn’t know if you still had your best friend. 
When you finished showering and getting dressed, you made your way down to the beach. You had texted Mingyu while getting dressed and he told you he was there with the chinito you saw him with, Wonwoo. Arriving at the beach, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, about to text the honey-skinned med student when you saw Jungkook with Areum in the water, his strong arms that held you throughout the night, now wrapped around her waist. Fits of giggles escaped her lips as Jungkook wrestled with her in the water, a huge grin on his handsome face. 
Your heart shattered. 
You quickly looked away, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes. As you were about to turn away, you heard Mingyu’s familiar voice which caused you to stop on your tracks. 
“Sola, hey, there you—what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice was palpable. You felt his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. 
“I—I finally told him, Gyu,” you said, taking in a sharp shaky breath. “I finally told him.” 
Mingyu didn’t ask for more details. He knew. He led you back to your room, promising Wonwoo to text him later. Once you were back, you just cried on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything and neither did you. He just let you be until the tears finally stopped. 
“I’m sorry I pulled you away from Wonwoo. He seems like a nice guy,” you said after a while, voice raspy from all the crying. 
“It’s fine. We’ll be seeing each other often anyway,” Mingyu shared. 
You looked at him, surprised. “Really?” 
Your friend nodded, laughing to himself. “You know, all those times I teased you about your being a hopeless romantic and believing in love—I think it’s backfiring on me now with Wonwoo.” 
“You love him?” you asked. 
“I don’t know, Sola. But I know what I feel for him is different,” he answered. “It’s terrifying. How quickly someone can change your perspective on something.” 
You couldn’t argue with that. 
“What’s your plan now?” Mingyu asked. 
You sighed deeply. “I think I’m going to head back. My graduation is tomorrow anyway. Do you mind booking the bus ride home?” 
“I’m staying here, Sola. I—I want to be with Wonwoo more,” Mingyu confessed, smiling at you apologetically. 
“Gyu…” 
“Please be a friend to me now, Sola.” 
You pressed your lips tightly. Then, you nodded. You wanted your friend to be happy. 
“I’m gonna pack now,” you announced. 
“Okay. Just text me if you need anything,” Mingyu gave you a hug and kiss on top of your head. “I want you to know I’m proud of you, Sola.” 
Once Mingyu left, you began to pack. You didn’t bring a lot of clothes, but you were still biding your time. A part of you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here and never graduate. But that illusion was quickly broken when you saw your mom’s contact flashing on your phone screen. 
You sucked your teeth before answering, “Hi mom.” 
“Sola? Where the hell are you? Why haven’t you been answering my texts? Your graduation is tomorrow. Everyone is looking forward to it!” she exclaimed frantically. 
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m in La Union with Jungkook and—,” 
“What the hell are you doing in La Union?! You better get back instantly, Sola. I’m not kidding. If you don’t graduate now, I really don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s been seven years! Please let me graduate too.” 
“I’m already packing and I’ll catch the bus home soon. I just—Mom, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it in time for the ceremony ‘cos—,” 
Your phone was suddenly snatched from your grip. You looked up and saw Jungkook standing beside you. 
“Hey tita, it’s Jungkook. Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll take her home. She’ll make it in time. Yes. We’ll be home before the ceremony, tita. Okay. Bye.” 
He ended the call and sat down on the bed across from you, handing you your phone back. You grabbed it from him. “You don’t have to take me home.” 
“I already promised tita I will,” he answered. 
“You didn’t have to,” you muttered, folding your shirt. 
Silence. Jungkook was just staring at you the entire time as you folded your clothes and packed them inside your bag. Then, he said those two words. 
“I’m sorry.” 
You bit the inside of your lower lip. What was he exactly for? For having sex with you? For spending the night with you? For not feeling the same way as you? All of the above? 
As if reading your thoughts, he added, “For everything.” 
You nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you told him. “It’s not your fault you don’t love me the same way.” But why did you kiss me? Why did you make love to me? 
Jungkook lowered his head. You zipped your bag. “Let’s go. I still have a graduation to chase.” 
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“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed when you saw Areum standing beside Jungkook’s car with her luggage and bag. 
“I’ll drop Areum on the way,” Jungkook announced, grabbing her luggage and putting it at the back of his car. 
You pressed your lips in a line. “Fine.” You stepped into the back passenger seat, quickly grabbing your phone and earphones from your bag, and plugging it in. 
Lowering yourself on the seat, you rested your head against the window as Areum stepped into the passenger seat while Jungkook sat on the driver’s seat. You caught him glancing at you from the corner of your eyes, but you didn’t look back. Instead, you turned the volume up. Moments later, he began to drive. 
You decided to sleep the entire ride. However, when you woke up, you immediately realized Jungkook wasn’t driving in your hometown. “Where are we?” you asked, taking one of your earphones off. 
“I’m dropping Areum first,” Jungkook replied. 
You frowned. “I’m the one chasing a graduation, remember?” 
“Shh, just go back to sleep. Here,” he threw something at you—your favorite candy, Butterball, landing on your lap. 
You grabbed it, tempted to eat it, but you threw it back at him and went back to sleep. By the time you woke up again, you were at Areum’s house. She turned to look at you, smiling. 
She was really beautiful and kind. You began to feel guilty for hating her so much the entire time. “Congrats on your graduation, Sola. I’ll see you around, okay?” 
“Thanks Areum.” 
After Jungkook walked her to her door, he came back to the car. “What are you doing there? Come here,” he said, patting the passenger seat. 
“I’m fine here,” you replied. 
“Sola, come on. Please? I drive better with you beside me.” 
For the rest of the ride to your home, you sat beside Jungkook. Unlike before, where your car rides were filled with music and random conversations, tonight it was silent. You didn’t plug your phone into his stereo and you kept your eyes closed the whole time, listening to your music. Once in a while, Jungkook would try to make small talk, but you would only give him short replies, then went back to sleeping. 
When you arrived at your family house, you stayed with Jungkook outside for a bit, both leaning against his car. 
“It’s your graduation in four hours.” 
“Are you not going to come to yours?” 
“I don’t see the point,” Jungkook replied. 
You nodded and pushed yourself off his car. “I’ll head inside. Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.” 
He grabbed your arm before you entered the gate. You stared into his eyes. You couldn’t quite place what held them right now. Maybe you never really knew Jeon Jungkook after all this time. 
“I’m sorry, Sola.” 
“Why do you keep saying sorry? I told you—it’s not your fault and I’m fine. I’m over it now. See you around, Jungkook.” 
You head back inside. Graduation was in four hours. 
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You wore a traditional Filipiniana dress, a pair of white heels that were already scraping the skin at the back of your feet, your mother’s pearls, and your sablay when your name was called. You came up on the stage with your excited mother, shook hands with your Dean, and finally grabbed your diploma. You always imagined graduation to be something so spectacular, but the moment you received the piece of paper that confirmed you had, indeed, graduated—you just felt the same. 
After the ceremony, you went back to your house where almost all your relatives from your mother’s side were waiting for you. A tarpaulin with your graduation picture and the words, “Congratulations Yu Sola!” printed on it and hung outside your gate. You greeted everyone on your way, telling them thanks, before retreating in your room to change out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. 
While you were slipping on your shirt, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. When you grabbed it, you saw Jungkook’s message on the lockscreen. 
Let’s go, it said. 
You knew it meant one thing: a beer and butterball at Route 96. There was still a part of you that wanted to go because you always went when you received a message like that from Jungkook. It was always a yes when it came to him. But now that you confessed, something shifted, whether he admitted to it himself or not. 
So, you put your phone in your pocket, and went down. But as you do so, you felt your phone vibrate again. You pulled it out of your pocket and Jungkook texted you another message. 
Please? One for the road. I’m outside. 
You bit your lower lip. Then, you made your way out. There, you saw Jungkook wearing his barong and sablay, leaning against his car like hours ago. He smiled as soon as he saw you come out. 
“You still have it,” he pointed to your shirt. 
You looked down on it and realized you had picked his shirt of all things. It wasn’t anything special; just something he bought at a boutique. But it meant a lot to you because he gave it to you after you spilled beer on your shirt years ago. 
“You attended your ceremony?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He nodded. “I thought you didn’t see the point.” 
“I changed my mind.” 
You wished you were just as quick in having a change of heart. 
“One for the road?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 
You took a deep breath and nodded. “One for the road.” 
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“Shit, I forgot it’s Sunday. It’s closed,” Jungkook sighed, seeing the steel gate at Route 96. 
“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you told him, grabbing the beer he bought beforehand and making your way up to the bar. Jungkook followed behind. 
You both leaned in the railing before you, beer in hands. Another silence. 
You couldn’t believe this was the culmination of the seven years you spent loving Jeon Jungkook. You thought, after confessing, you would never speak again. He’d distance himself from you but here you were—having a beer with him at your favorite place in the world. You wished you knew what was going on in his mind right now. You wished you could dissect his mind and learn every thought he had ever since you confessed. 
Because you never really knew Jeon Jungkook. You were just so in love with him and idealized who he was over the last seven years. Suddenly, all the stupid memories you shared with Mingyu flashed in your mind and made you laugh. 
“What’s funny?” Jungkook asked, chuckling. 
You shook your head, drinking your beer. “Nothing.” 
He nudged your side. “Come on, share it.” 
You took a deep breath and for the first time, you looked at Jeon Jungkook and saw him for who he was; not the man you have loved for the past seven years. 
“I graduated, finally.” 
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↪˚ author’s note: if you want to donate to me via kofi or gcash <33 i would appreciate it a lot. thank you & see you in more fics later on.
↪˚ permanent taglist: @whoa-jo @kookieandjoonberries
all rights reserved. 2024. belovedguk.
686 notes · View notes
suengmi · 1 year
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- the ways stray kids show their love and affection
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genre: fluff/romance, nonidol!au, gn!reader warnings: mentions of making out, nakedness? idk lol
anyways this is just major soft hours, one of my moots said i should do this i can't remember who it was pls lmk if it was you asljdls also unedited
♡ masterlist / pls reblog if you liked! it helps a lot ♡
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ bang chan
sweet kisses all over your face to wake you up, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling you. “i’m bored wake up babe.” grunts when you ignore him. ends up pulling the sheets back so your naked body is exposed to the cold. “that’s what you get.” gets salty but then feels bad, covering you up again, then he really wakes you up. back hugs when you’re cooking for him. whining whenever you don’t pay attention to him, tugging at the edge of your shirt. sulks when you say you’re busy. doesn’t give a fuck about how clingy he is, but he knows you love it. holds your hand a little too hard when you’re walking together. kiss attacks always!!
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ lee know
stops you from crossing the street until he’s checked it. “stupid, look next time.” beats you twice in a board game but sees that you're sad that you’re not that good at it, but fails the third time just to see you smile and gloat about beating him. he loves seeing you happy, even if he has to purposely fail. leaves you notes everywhere, maybe just ‘i love yous’ mixed in with ‘i know you’ll forget this so don’t.’ text messages asking if you’ve eaten, and then getting mad and sending food to your door if you haven’t. swiftly kisses to the forehead aggressively saying you ‘deserve it’ but sounds like a threat. ‘you know i love you yeah?’ more aggressive kisses. ‘i won’t stop until you say you love me!!’
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ changbin
little wrestling matches on the couch, telling you that you’re silly for even trying. pulls you by the back of your hair if you’re not paying attention to him. “i left you the last piece of food.” always, always saves you the last piece no matter what it is. picks you up and throws you around, pretending he’s going to eat you bc apparently he’s a monster. but says you taste good so he doesn’t mind eating you. more wrestles. whenever you’re sad, he always cheers you up and never fails to make you laugh. does his trot impression of some old korean songs, full performance with your glitter jacket on that doesn’t fit him. ‘you still love me now? you better.’ knows you love being engulfed by him, so 90% of the time he is the big spoon. when he's feeling really romantic, he'll do a little picnic at the beach. always making sure it was at sunset because he knew it was your favourite time of the day.
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ jisung
midnight trips to get take out, sitting in the car until 2am with both of your feet on the dashboard. ‘remember that time!’ always reminiscing about how you first met, nearly choking on your fries when you recall. kisses in the car, kisses in the house, kisses in the shower, kisses in the dark. ‘babe but i want it.’ chucks a tanty when you don’t buy him things. pouts and folds his arms. ‘if you loved me you would!’ holds the cuff of your jumper, mostly walking behind you whenever you go somewhere because he feels safe. morning calls, but especially night calls. he doesn’t care how you look at the end of the day, he just wants to see you and tell you he loves you. hiding himself in your jumper and saying there is enough room for two (when there isn't.)
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ hyunjin
taking you to art galleries, standing behind you with his head resting on yours. ends up putting his hands into your pockets from behind, cutely leading you around from the back. with hyunjin it’s not always words, sometimes it’s just his actions. he pushes your hair out of your face or tucks it behind your hair. mostly, he does your hair for you. always making sure your hair was out of your face because it annoyed you. brings you tea and sits with you if you’re studying or drawing or even watching tv, rubs your thigh gently to let you know that he doesn’t want to distract you, just shows you he wants to be with you. rubs your belly if you feel bloated and talks to it. 'you better stop being bloated or... i'll do something. idk what.' art dates!! always drawing together, even if you're shit he encourages you to keep going
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ seungmin
gently slips his fingers into yours without saying anything but smiling to himself when he sees you blush, he kind of loves that he makes you nervous. always taking the chance to make your cheeks tint pink. showers with seungmin, always washing your body and shampooing your hair for you, wet kisses in between. sometimes he’d gently press his nose on your naked skin, enjoying your scent but never admitting it. ‘it’s comforting’ he’d say in defence, ignoring you for the rest of the night. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, making sure you were safe no matter where you were. kisses to the forehead, the back of the hand, the back of your knees. seungmin doesn’t say it much, but he does love you. he shows it through everything else, knowing those words have such a weight to them.
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ felix
‘are you gonna cook!?’ jumping up and down when you say yes, annoying you the whole time you’re cooking or baking. ‘is it done? i can’t wait to eat it!!’ eats half of the food before it’s even cooked because he says it’s ‘too good.’ little play fights that would begin from felix nibbling at your fingers and then at your thighs. ‘little gremlin’ you’d end up joking, rolling around on the floor, bodies all over each other, which would end in a heated make out session and clothes far gone. he’d send you random texts, of random things. ‘hey i saw this flower, it's cute, yeah?’ ‘this potato looks like you. it’s too cute to eat T-T’ ‘you think i could eat 11 hot dogs in two minutes? hmm maybe.’ 
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⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ jeongin
blowing raspberries on your tummy and holding you down. sometimes uses your foot as a telephone. ‘yes hello stinky foot line how can i stink you today?’ proceeds to try and hold your foot with his. 'shut up i can do it!!' probably be super sarcastic, mocking you when you tried to be cute with whatever you were saying. karaoke together, always singing out of pitch but though he’s laughing, encourages you to be more confident because he loves seeing you enjoy yourself. watches you sometimes, just admiring you but instantly whips his head around to pretend he wasn’t, head banging into something hanging from the wall. ‘mind your business’ he’d joke, walking away suspiciously.
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♡ taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @ipegchangbin @abcdefgiwsmcty ♡
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kissatoru · 3 months
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ughh i wanna put a bratty sub in his place so bad!! :((
i wanna make him think he’s got the upper hand until the last minute, to watch the look on his face when he realises that he’s been playing right into your hand the entire time; that every moment leading up to this was just a carefully calculated step in your plan. i want to see how he struggles to fight back once he does, how hard he tries to prove himself, not realising that if he was really the one in control, he wouldn’t need to prove it, would he? he’d just do it. yet here he is, scrambling for his place back in the driver’s seat that he was never truly in.
your giggles would interrupt him amidst his little speech, cutting off the empty bluffs and dirty promises that he could never even dream of keeping anyway; the way you’d chuckle behind a coy hand like you’ve got some little inside joke with yourself? it would make that fragile ego of his fucking quiver; make him feel confused and embarrassed and he would try to twist the situation back in his favour, of course he would, to try pretend he’s in on the inside joke... but the truth is he feels helpless. for the first time ever, it feels like he’s the one in the dark; he’s the clueless and defenseless one, the one who’s been caught in a trap he never saw coming.
but then again, how could he when you play the part of prey so well? when your innocent performance is so convincing — with your big glossy eyes and shyly averted gazes, your voice so sweet and unsuspecting, stumbling over filthy words like you’ve never even thought them before? what reason would someone like him have to fear a precious thing like you? he’s all chiselled muscle and tenacity, with the eyes of a wolf; you’re small compared to him, cute and soft and easy to overpower — and yet he still ends up beneath you because your presence alone harbours more power than he does in all those muscles he’s so proud of, and his resolve is weak as long as you know where he’s most sensitive and what words make him blush, and with enough patience and punishments, those wolf’s eyes will melt into a puppy’s every time.
and getting a man like him to submit — or better yet break — is no easy feat. he thought himself a dom before he met you and god, if there isn’t anything more rewarding, more wonderful than that; teaching him to bend to your will and seeing his inevitable downfall each and every time. no matter how many times or how far he goes to defy and provoke you, you both know that he will always return to his rightful place: beneath you and completely at your mercy.
EREN JAEGER, TOJI FUSHIGURO, TOUYA TODOROKI, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI, SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
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Note
What about Coryo and childhood friend reader who are very close and spend all their time together. They gossip about a classmate getting rumorly pregnant and the conversation turn into sex and they talk about experiences (lack of) and end up doing stuff and learning together about pleasure. I’m a sucker for virgin reader and coryo smut
Request: Virgin coriolanus and reader touching each other in secret
Request: young snow with prompt 2 ehehe ‘’No one needs to know.’’
Warnings: 18+, smut, ooc!Coriolanus, virgin!Coryo, virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, p + v (just the tip), let me know if I missed some
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Some people should not be allowed to procreate. The world does not need more superior thinking brats like Arachne Crane,’’ Coriolanus said concerning the rumors about your classmate’s alleged pregnancy. 
It wasn’t a very nice thing to say, but you had to agree with him. 
‘’Who do you think is the unlucky father?’’ you asked, getting deeper into the gossips instead of focussing on the subject you were studying. ‘’Festus?’’
Coriolanus shrugged, taking a pen and scribbling down some notes. ‘’I don’t know. Probably. I doubt it’s true, though. Because if it were, Arachne’s dad would arrange a marriage to cover up the pregnancy. Can’t have his darling daughter pregnant with a bastard.’’ 
The conversation died down and you both went back to your textbooks. Exams were in a few weeks, and you needed good grades to get into university. You also promised Coriolanus to help him and make quiz cards. If he doesn't get the best grades, the Plint prize will go to another student and he won’t be able to attend university with you. 
‘’Have you ever…?‘’ you asked in the quiet of the bedroom, curiosity hanging in the air. 
Your question had him confused at first, but it clicked and he shook his head. ‘’No.’’ Coriolanus cleared his throat, uncomfortable to dive into a private subject. ‘’I mean, I have…you know. Myself,’’ he corrected, always honest with you. ‘’Just, not…with someone. Have you?’’
By your parents’ request, you were preserving yourself for marriage. You never understood why they insisted on you being pure or how it was any of their business, but you respected their request.  
You shook your head. ‘’No.’’ Grabbing a piece of paper, you searched for your pen, which seemed to have gone missing on Coriolanus’ bed. ‘’Do you have a pen I can borrow? I’m gonna get started with the flashcards.’’
He grabbed a spare one from his desk and handed it to you. ‘’Why did you want to know?’’ 
‘’Just curious.’’ 
You began writing down some questions, your pen gliding over the flashcards. 
It wasn’t until your pile of flashcards tipped on the side and fell on the bed that you realized how many you had made. You chuckled at the little mishap, and the sound of your laughter caught Coriolanus' attention.
‘’Wow. How many are there?’’ he asked, looking over at the scattered flashcards.
You shrugged, gathering the flashcards into a neat pile. ‘’Lost count. Are you ready to be quizzed?’’ 
He closed his textbooks and joined you on the bed, sitting criss-cross. There was a nervous look on his face, but you reassured him. 
‘’Don't worry, you've got this, Coryo.’’ You gave him an encouraging smile. ‘’If you get ten right…I’ll reward you with a kiss.’’ It was meant as a joke, but Coriolanus didn't get it.
‘’A kiss?’’ the blond repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He expected a cookie or a strawberry, not a kiss. 
‘’Unless you don’t want me to kiss you—’’ 
‘’I didn’t say that!’’ 
The sun started to go down when you made it through half the flashcards. As expected, Coriolanus did a great performance. He was always on top of his subjects, focussing on his academics instead of social life. All his hard work was paying off. 
It also meant that you owed him a kiss. 
Biting your bottom lip, you suddenly felt shy. Why did you make that deal?
‘’You do remember we were each other’s first kiss, do you?’’ Coriolanus reminded, sensing your hesitation. 
Although it happened three years ago, the image was vivid in your mind. It was your fourteenth birthday. You asked him to kiss you as a birthday present so you wouldn’t have to lie to the girls at the academy when they asked if you had kissed anyone yet. Any other boy would have laughed, but Coriolanus just nodded and pressed his lips on yours. 
You took a steady breath, telling yourself you had to honor your promises, and leaned over the space between you to kiss him. You counted to five, then pulled back slightly. Coriolanus opened his eyes, their ocean blue hue appearing brighter from up close. They were so beautiful — he was so beautiful.
Before you could break your staring, Coriolanus cupped the side of your face and drew you back in for another kiss. You kissed him back by instinct, but you were confused. Was he not satisfied by your kiss? Maybe you should have counted to ten instead of five? 
The delicate brush of his thumb against your cheek pulled you out of your thoughts, luring you into a bubble of warmth and tenderness. His lips were soft against yours, and the faint scent of roses enveloped you. He always smelled of roses. 
His hand settled at the small of your back, pulling you closer across the bed. You let him guide you, pawing at the front of his button up to hold yourself up at his height. A soft gasp left your lips when Coriolanus slipped his tongue to deepen the kiss, a rush of emotions flooding through you. You tangled your hands in his hair, letting your pulsions lead until you were both breathless.
‘’What are we doing?’’ you asked quietly, almost a whisper. 
You were delving into uncharted territories, taking untraveled roads of your friendship without knowing where they would lead you. 
Coriolanus didn’t respond, not knowing what to say. 
Your fingers brushed his curls from his eyes as his nose brushed yours, eager to get his lips on yours again. He glanced at you, searching your eyes for some guidance, but you were just as lost as him. 
‘’I want to kiss you again,’’ Coriolanus confessed, the hand on your back moving to your hip. ‘’I want… I want you.’’
Have me, you wanted to tell him. Take all of me, but a small voice at the back of your head reminded you of the promise you made to your parents. 
‘’If you don’t put it in, you’re still gonna be a virgin,’’ he said, as if he had read your mind. 
Coriolanus used his desk chair to block the door, ensuring no one would come in. Tigris was out and Grandma'am was tending to her flowers, but he didn't want to risk it. You felt also more comfortable with the door blocked and his makeshift curtain slightly closed. The Snow penthouse was so high, it was impossible to see inside from another building.
You began taking off your clothes in a comfortable silence, your dark pink dress joining Coriolanus’ button up and trousers on the floor. Left in your undergarments, you sat on the bed facing each other. You bit your bottom lip as you averted your eyes from your friend’s half naked body, uncertain if you should be looking. 
Holding your breath, you reached back and undid your bra while Coriolanus removed his white boxers. It wasn’t as nerve-wracking if you both undressed at the same time. You felt your face flush as your eyes lowered to his cock, seeing it soft and resting against his thigh. There was light blond hair at the base, which matched the hair on his head.  
Coriolanus’s cock twitched as he glanced at your chest. Your breasts were full enough to not be considered small and your nipples were perfectly peaked. You were the prettiest girl he ever laid his eyes on. 
Not giving yourself time to feel shy, you followed suit by taking your last layer off, lifting your hips to pull it down. There wasn’t much room to move around so Coriolanus helped you get your panties down the rest of your legs, and dropped them on the bed. 
‘’Thanks.’’
You fought the reflex to clamp your legs shut the way a lady should, and instead parted them, revealing your glistening core. From this position, your labias were parted like a flower, completely exposed to your best friend's eyes. 
You dipped between your folds to collect moisture and started rubbing your clit with the tip of your thumb. 
Coriolanus scooted closer to you, and effortlessly gripped his hand around his cock to stroke it nice and slow while he watched you. He followed your pace, leaned his head back when he swiped his thumb over the leaky red tip, and tried not to make any sound. 
You looked over at Coriolanus, and your core clenched. Now you understood what Clemensia was talking about in the girls locker rooms. Without stopping your motions on your clit, you brought two fingers and slowly slipped them inside of you, making you gasp. You usually started with one, but you needed something bigger that you didn't want to admit out loud. 
Closing your eyes, you let your imagination run free, imagining Coriolanus' cock inside you, filling you up. ‘’Ah, Coryo,’’ you slipped, letting go of your clit to grope one of your breasts and pull on your taut nipple. 
Coriolanus couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his lips when he heard you moan his name. He picked up speed as he stared at you, the springs on his mattress creaking underneath. This is why he always did this in the shower. 
When you opened your eyes, you pulled out your fingers andrested your hand on Coriolanus' knee. ‘’Can I try?’’ 
The room hung in a momentary silence, the weight of your question settling between you and Coriolanus. His usually composed demeanor faltered, and he was momentarily lost for words, caught off guard by the words that left your mouth. 
‘’I-if you want to.’’ He removed his hand from his cock and followed with his gaze as your hand bravely traveled up his thigh. 
Gently, you wrapped your hand around him. It was heavier than you thought, and warm. You began moving your hand up and down, but it wasn’t slippery enough for your liking so you dipped your fingers between your folds to collect some of your arousal to lubricate your strokes. 
‘’That’s better,’’ you said to yourself. 
Coriolanus wanted to kiss you. That was hot. 
Not wanting you to be neglected, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer, draping your legs over his so he could play with your clit and breasts. Lewd noises filled the room, coming from both of your mouths. It was a blessing Grandma’am had hearing troubles because the walls at the penthouse were thin. 
As you began to work towards your climax, you directed Coriolanus’ cock toward your pussy and pressed his tip against your folds. If you don’t put it in, you’re still gonna be a virgin, he had said. The pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. 
Sensing what you were trying to do, Coriolanus got a better idea. He moved your hands away and rubbed his tip against your puffy clit. The tingling sensation began to overwhelm you, bringing tears to your eyes while he continued to stroke your folds and clit with his cock. 
‘’Ahh! Yes, Coryo— That feels so good!’’ 
The both of you were making a choir of beautiful whines and moans as you could feel your release approaching quickly. You came with a cry when you felt his tip pushing through without getting in fully, quivering against him.  
Coriolanus couldn't look away from your core, overwhelmed by how warm and wet you felt around him. He continued to rub himself against you until white strings dribbled out of the head of his cock, painting your pussy with a beautiful mess. 
‘’That was…’’ you panted out, looking down at yourself. ‘’No one needs to know, right?’’
‘’No one needs to know,’’ he confirmed.
''Should we get back to the flashcards?''
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