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#might have just gotten promoted
planeoftheeclectic · 1 year
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Oh, do tell more about "Columbo: Turnabout's Fair Play".
oh geez ok I don't know how much I can say because I have been trying so hard not to spoil the mystery but let's go.
There are a few people who know how it will end/what the twist is, most of whom don't care much about Ace Attorney and were unlikely to ever read it in the first place and one of whom cares negatively about spoilers. This is because I was very anxious that the twist leading to the break in the case was too contrived and I wanted an outside opinion.
This was because I began writing TFP before I finished playing Bridge to the Turnabout. All subsequent worries about "realism" and "physics" and "the laws of science" have since been summarily dismissed.
I am currently working on some things that are very close to what will go in the epilogue and I really can't say more than that or I'm worried you'll figure it out immediately. Suffice to say: I like mirroring.
In the past 24 hours I have discovered two musical themes from AA4 that I will absolutely be using as writing ambiance because they are exactly what I've been looking for. One is Phoenix's theme, one is ostensibly the Gramarye's theme but honestly might as well work for Phoenix, both are embedded below for your convenience.
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Honestly, the name of that second one is perfect for Phoenix. Man I can't wait until we get there.
Hmmm...I think the only reason I can get away with writing this fic is because I am very good at mimicking other people's vocal patterns - to the point where I have come home from Shakespeare plays speaking in iambic pentameter. (In fairness, that's less hard than it sounds - English is made for that kind of thing.) But Peter Falk is so integral to the concept of Columbo that if you can't nail his patter, your work is just going to be missing something, imo.
Hmm, what else...I think you in particular will be delighted by the ending, which is why I had to stop talking about it with you the moment I realized what it was going to be lol. Which is infuriating because I love our talks and value your contributions so much but I can't and it's driving me insane ahhhhhhhh!! That said! I relish the look on your face when you finally get there, and that expression (multiplied by the other people who read it, which is way more than I expected when I first posted it tbh) is what keeps me going. It's going to be so good. I can't wait. Why isn't it done yet. What do you mean I have to write it first.
I'm still desperately tempted to write the alternative setup I initially proposed, aka "Maya Fey hires her friend the retired detective to get those idiots together it's been like 20 years guys, geez." I probably will write it as totally separate from TFP but man can you imagine.
If I ever write the jokingly hypothetical Klapollo sequel it will be after we've finished at least aa4 and possibly the whole sequel trilogy. Which is probably for the best, given I have palutena trap to work on. That said, I've grown exceptionally fond of Klavier. Possibly because I keep murdering his brother and making horrible things happen to him. ...Sorry about that, buddy.
I somewhat doubt that Phoenix has an official breakdown sprite (excluding the head-on-desk and nervous sweating varieties) but I need to start picturing it, because that scene is coming up sooner than I can imagine. And also farther away. But at least there's only one more Edgeworth chapter forecast. That should help contain their combined loquacious verbosity to a manageable length.
I may have said this before, but I am trying very hard to write everything from the narrative point of view of the TV camera. That's defining chapter breaks, POV's. information delivered, and general tone. It's very fun, and an excellent writing exercise. I get whiplash whenever I go back to palutena trap, which has a much more standard 3rd person limited view (the character's). I would definitely recommend this sort of thing if you want to experiment with your writing style!
Hmm, now for a fun fact to end it on...well, this isn't TFP specific, but I'd like to imagine that Gumshoe is on vacation at a beach somewhere and brought one of his metal detectors and finds a buried treasure chest that is for once not connected to a murder and so he strikes it rich and can finally retire to live a life of luxury eating slightly fancier instant ramen and that's why we never see him after the 7-year gap.
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krys-loves-otome · 2 years
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3, 4, 9, 10, 49 for the ask game! ❤️
Questions for Fic Writers!
3) What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?
It has been pointed out before that people like how I depict intimacy in my art and I think it shows through in my fics too. I tend to be somewhat sparse on details, but I think that helps it to focus in on closer moments to make them feel more special and important.
4) What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?
Going on something that was written pretty recently, I like the family dynamics in Name. Basically, Leon is telling the story behind his daughter's name to her and a mostly kid friendly version of how he got his name and how he got to be the Fourth Prince. Also love the fact that both Leon and Emma help foster their daughter's curiosity in identity and how supportive they are if she wants to change her name and whatnot. Baby girl also pulls no punches in her reading ability over her father's. She's merciless.
9) How do you find new fic to read?
Looking at the summary and seeing if it's something I'm interested in. Nothing can draw me in like a good summary. The entire fic but tiny has helped me discover stuff I didn't think I would be interested in at first, so story but tiny really helps for me.
10) How do you decide what to write?
Answered here!
49) What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!
My IkeSen long fic Second Glance's part 4 is about 95% done, so I'm hoping to get it out by the end of the year. I have posted some WIP Wednesdays about it previously, so I'll go with a small part that I haven't posted yet:
You turned towards him, his nose and cheeks red from the cold, sure to be matching your own, much to Hideyoshi's dismay.
Before he could climb to your side, however, you leaned towards him, touching your dry and cold-chapped lips together with his. The tobacco scent still lingered on him, you noticed.
Hideyoshi froze, eyes wide open in surprise. When you pulled back for air, though his cheeks were warmer, his eyes, once again, filled with sadness. He let out a breath.
"Inside, [Name]," he left no room for argument. "Now."
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kkoiishii · 9 months
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another rant post (it’s kinda more like a vent ig???)
in tags again
@speeeeeb @grapefanta8669 sweet ass people who deserve more in the world
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gojoest · 10 months
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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru
MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)
a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡
side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )
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what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.
after all, it’s how he made you his as well.
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“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.
“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.
“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”
“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”
“hey, hey. slow down there”
“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”
it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.
satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.
it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.
“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.
“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.
truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.
as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.
“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”
you raised an eyebrow, questioning.
“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”
wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.
“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.
“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.
“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”
you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…
“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”
by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.
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“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.
“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.
“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.
“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.
“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.
you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.
“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”
“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.
“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.
“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.
“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”
“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.
“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.
“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.
“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.
“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”
“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.
“really?”
“really.”
“anything?”
“anything.”
“you promise not to go back on your word?”
“i promise.”
he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.
“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”
to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.
“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.
“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”
“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.
“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.
“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”
you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.
“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.
satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.
“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.
you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.
“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.
“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.
you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.
you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.
“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.
“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.
you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.
his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.
you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”
his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.
the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.
you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.
“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”
“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”
“yes”
“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”
“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”
“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.
“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”
“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”
“yea? am i not?”
“children”, he stresses.
“oh.”, it finally hits you.
“one more to go”
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writersdrug · 2 days
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I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰
I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!
Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.
He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.
Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.
He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.
Then you came along.
You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.
Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.
"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.
"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."
Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"
You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.
"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.
"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."
Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"
That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."
"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.
You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"
He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."
You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.
"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.
"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.
His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.
He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?
"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.
He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."
Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.
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juniperdugong · 2 months
Text
Relationship Quirks 95s ver.
Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||
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Scoups Calls you his "wife" while you guys are still dating
NOT AROUND YOU... at first but I doubt that the guys wouldn't secretly take video of him whining during practice talking about, "I miss my wife..." all pouty and everything (he saw you this morning), and NOT send it to you.
He's awkward when you bring it up because he doesn't know if you feel that way about the future of your relationship but once he knows you do feel the same way WHEW you do not hear the end of it.
Suddenly, all the reservations he makes are preceded by "Well, me and my wife...", anytime you're brought up in a conversation dude glitches out and HAS to mention you as his wife at least once (especially if it's to someone he thinks might be interested in you), and the yearning only gets worse! He'll leave for tour and after he texts his customary airplane goodbye message to you your phone will be blowing up with texts from the boys complaining about having to hear their leader practically sobbing about how much he misses his wife.
Jeonghan Steals your stuff
Has big "What's yours is mine" mentality, but don't worry! What's his is yours too! He swears it! Despite the drastic difference in how much he's using, borrowing, or straight up taking your stuff...
Let's be clear though, he never takes things he thinks you'll miss and if he finishes something of yours he always makes sure to replace it pronto. If you do get upset he makes a mental note to not mess with that particular item ever again.
Have you noticed a suspicious amount of your clothing (mainly hoodies, hats, and bags) go missing and suddenly see your boyfriend wearing them during a live? Yes. Has there been multiple arguments about this behavior? For sure! Does it absolutely warm your heart when you're at a concert and see a staff member run on stage to hand Hannie his current comfort item (a childhood toy of yours that you didn't even know was missing from your room)? Absolutely, it does. (Apologizes profusely once you find out...doesn't mean a single word of it and you know it because he's giggling the whole time)
Joshua Buys 2 of everything
Since the dawn of your relationship, Shua has gotten 2 of every item he buys. His initial reason was to get to know one another better by trying out things the other liked. This then spiraled to him doubling every single grocery item, clothes he buys, and pretty much anything he orders. Could be an insanely valuable item worth thousands that he's getting paid to promote but if there isn't a matching one for you then it's off the table. And no, he doesn't necessarily want to be "matching" all the time but he likes knowing that you guys could match whenever you wanted to.
He also gets extremely offended if you question why there's so much of everything, seriously he doesn't even want to hear it, like "Because it's ours! And we share! So we need double! Do you hate me or something!?"
"Babe, why do we have so much shampoo..." "I'm promoting it." "There's 2 of every type in here." "Yep." "We don't ne-" "We do need it." "It's too much." "I don't understand what you're saying to me right now."
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A/N: The brainrot I have for these men is so real rnnnnn. I just had to separate these by years bc it was getting too long :( I'll have 96s up by today too, so stay tuned for that 96 line OUT NOW!! (Have to do it for my babe Nonu) Reblogs and Comments are much-appreciated lovelies!!
TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish
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unstable-samurai · 4 months
Text
Breathing This Calm Night - smut
Yunjin x Male Reader
ONE-SHOT
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Tags: fluff, oral sex, one-shot, tightjob, penetration, k-idol, famous girl, secret relationship
A/n: This is my first request. Thanks @dav1233555 for the plot suggestion 🫡
The two of you were anxiously dragging yourself towards the end of the day. Slowly the hours passed, seeming to last longer than they should, while a hurried and hard routine was followed, with no time to even exchange a few messages.
But you were finally free, at least for now, from the mess that is a magazine of international relevance.
I'm arriving
You read the message and smiled at the phone screen. It wasn't crowded at the restaurant you chose to have dinner at. You reflected for a moment, and thought there was a bit of madness in what you two were doing, but it was indisputable that it was genuine and pure.
Truth be told, this whole thing was real. And thinking that this could be a bit crazy (in other people's eyes, to be more precise) only made your panoramic view of society more bitter.
After all, what was so great about being a foreigner and dating a K-idol? Well, you weren't the guy who was going to change the view of an entire society, so worrying about it was useless.
At least there was some security that this relationship would not be leaked to the media. Well, you were in fact part of the fucking media. There was support from the magazine you worked for (not that you were the owner or anything), and at least no one on your team would poke your eye out. Some other editors you trust already knew about your relationship. It was one of the countless advantages of being in a high position in the company and having a strong influence on what happened inside. I mean, someone from the magazine could try to fuck with you, snakes exist everywhere, doing this in an attempt to self-promote or even abandon ship, handing over the leak of your relationship to another magazine or tabloid (in the headline the motherfuckers would find a way to use the word "affair", just because your previous relationship ended a month before you met Yunjin). But you would discover the funny guy so easily that there wouldn't even be any fun in solving the mystery. All it took was a single call to your father, simply the greatest editor-in-chief who worked at the magazine's headquarters. Already retired, but still exercising great decision-making power thanks to his long years of contributions to the magazine. Your old man was seen almost as a royal advisor or a wise monk where directors, managers and editors from various sectors of the magazine went to ask for advice and help. You were relatively shielded from leaks.
You noticed her approaching. Well disguised, with glasses, hair tied back and comfortable clothes. She looked like just another ordinary girl. You couldn't help but notice the NY Knicks sweatshirt you had given her as a gift, it was both of your favorite team.
She greeted you with a discreet hug. You still hadn't gotten used to the fact that you couldn't give a peck in public que in South Korea. In your perception, it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Hi, baby! How are you?" she asked you as she sat down at the table.
"Better now, honey. What about you?"
"The same!"
"Was the day as hard as always?" you asked.
"Yeah, definitely!" she replied. Yunjin seemed eager for this question. She continued: “In the morning I had rap class. By the way, I think I'm getting better. Oh, and in the afternoon I recorded my lines, like, over and over again. The music producer has a very specific vision of what he wants for this track. He apologized and admitted that it might take some time to achieve the desired result.”
"Well, I trust your talent. Remember that you and your group are dealing with a delicate concept. I have seen up close the production of albums that address intimate themes, it is always a challenge, but also a true work and certainly a amazing gift for the fans. You girls are going to do great."
Yunjin laughed, a little shyly.
"It feels like I'm talking to a music critic instead of my boyfriend."
"Well, you're actually talking to a music critic. Oh, by the way, I remembered that I won't be writing the article about Le Sserafim's new album like I said before."
Her expression was one of surprise. Yunjin asked:
"Is it because of me?”
"Yes." you answered honestly. “Well, look, love, I'm prioritizing our relationship and thinking about the future. If this is for real, eventually the press will hear about us together, and a review from me about my girlfriend's music group obviously it would make my opinion seem partial and biased. It's just to avoid future problems."
"Okay" She looked upset. "But I'll still want to know your opinion when you hear the album."
"I'm really looking forward to hearing it." You smiled, making her feel better. "I left the review about the new album for a good friend of mine to write. I really respect her opinion."
"Well, i think we're in good hands. But let's stop talking about work for a bit!"
The waiter seemed to have heard Yunjin's speech as he appeared to save them right after she finished saying that. Yunjin had great taste in food, that's why she always chose the order for the two of you, you weren't the "culinary trailblazer" type; a few months in South Korea and you only knew five typical dishes (always returning to the arms of the big fast-food chains).
"Oh, I almost forgot to give you this!" You handed her a gift. "It had been on my lap for so long that I had forgotten I had brought it with me."
"Oh, baby! You didn't have to do that!"
She started to unwrap it.
"Hope you like."
You waited for her reaction. Yunjin smiled and made a cute little noise when she saw that it was a book (although she already knew from the shape of the gift wrap).
"You know I love reading! Thank you so much."
"It's The Alchemist. I know you love fantasy and this silly self-help thing. This book is a mix of both."
You saw her eyes light up.
"You're perfect. I love how well you know me. And self-help isn't silly, it's very good for evolving as a human being." she scolded you.
You shrugged.
"It's not the kind of thing I'd like to put on my bookshelf. But to each their own.”
She laughed.
"I'm still going to make you read one of these."
"Well, I've already read The Alchemist. If for me it's average, for you it will be a masterpiece."
It was around 10pm when the two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Dinner was very good, especially dessert (that bingsu thing was really delicious), and by that night there was no more energy for more fun, it was preferable to have a good night's sleep so that the next day you could do something together. Even so, Yunjin hummed excitedly in the car on the way home. You appreciated all that joy.
You took off your shoes while Yunjin took off her NY Knicks sweatshirt, leaving only a tight tank top on her body. You noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra by the way her breasts showed through the fabric of her tank top. You slowly approached her and grabbed her from behind, kissing her repeatedly. Yunjin wrapped her hands around your neck as she giggled at the series of kisses.
“Will you be my teddy bear tonight?” she asked sweetly. “I need your affection so much, baby.”
“Whatever you need, sweetie.” You said as you kissed her on the neck.
Things were heating up. Your hands slid down Yunjin's soft belly, heavy sighs escaped her mouth unconsciously.
“Look, we still need to shower.” she said.
"No problem." you answered.
“You're putting me in the mood. I'm warning you that if you keep touching me like this, you're going to have to go all the way to finish what you started.”
“And since when has this been a problem for me?” you asked as you led her to the couch.
You took off your shirt and belt from your pants. Yunjin took off her jeans, leaving only her tank top and adorable pink panties. Your hand slid down Yunjin's left thigh while you kissed her right thigh. That was more than enough to give her goosebumps. She had her legs wide open, waiting, almost begging, for you to touch that place. Instead of doing it right away, you decided to play with her a little, kissing and biting her inner thigh while using one of your hands to lightly massage her pussy through her panties. Your lips slid to Yunjin's crotch, where you licked the entire area, she reveled in the act, trying hard not to close her legs with the spasms she was having. It didn't take long for a wet stain to darken the pink of the panties. When you finally removed Yunjin's panties, you saw how wet she was. So horny that she couldn't wait for you, fingering her pussy slowly, opening it with her fingers so you could see how drooling she was; a successful action of provoking you. Then you realized how hard your cock was, pulsing in your pants, painfully tight, which made you hornier.
Without wasting any more time, you dived between Yunjin's legs, eager to taste her (that flavor that was becoming increasingly familiar and addictive… Part of your life. Yeah, we could put it that way), your tongue delighting in the taste and the cozy warmth of the inside of her pussy, while Yunjin moaned softly, digging her nails into the sofa cushions.
“I love it when you suck me like that, baby. You make me feel so good!” she moaned.
At one point she asked to stop because her lust was unbearable and that way he would have an orgasm in a short time.
“I want to feel your cock inside me now.” she said. You had just taken off your underwear when she added, “Wait, what if we fuck in the bathroom. Let’s save time, what do you think?”
Your response was to lift her off the couch and take her to the bathroom. You turned on the light with your elbow and, before you could think of anything, she said:
“Fuck me like this! Your cock goes deep into my pussy when you fuck me in the air.”
You kissed her intensely while you tried to fit your dick into her pussy. The feeling of your cock sliding inside Yunjin was wonderful. Upon realizing that your cock was well placed inside her, you grabbed Yunjin's thighs tightly and began to thrust into her energetically while she held onto you, moaning compulsively.
And Yunjin was right, your dick went deep in that position. You could feel her deep inside, the entire length of your cock was being used, and she loved it. When she announced her orgasm, you wanted to make sure it was intense and pleasurable, the way it made her roll her eyes, so you lifted her a little higher, grabbing her ass, while Yunjin wrapped her legs inside your arms, making her practically hang from you and her pussy is completely inside your dick.
“Oh God, Baby! I’m cumming!”
She trembled holding onto you, while you practically rubbed her pussy on your dick, always rotating it close to your body. It was just a shame that you couldn't enjoy her eyes rolling back at the moment of orgasm, you simply loved seeing her go crazy with pleasure, but there was also a certain contentment in just knowing that it happened.
You sat Yunjin down on the sink and there you started fucking her again, looking deeply into her eyes. At one point she looked at you with so much passion, so much desire that there was a sudden growing desire to fill her pussy with your load of cum.
“Hang me, love.” she asked affectionately.
Her hand wrapped around just over half of her neck, serving as support to fuck her even harder. Sweat running down both bodies, your gaze was lost between the mirror's reflection, her eyes, her tits and her expressions of pleasure. With the sensations highlighted, you realized how much you loved Yunjin and how much this feeling contributed to eminent pleasure during sex.
Holy shit! You were almost there.
You thought about how much you wanted to go deep into this, literally to the end, but you were without a condom and suddenly stopping the act to go get a condom at the end of the championship was a bit... discouraging.
But you have an idea.
“Stand up, sweetie” you said. “Let’s try something new.”
Yunjin got out of the sink, looking at you excitedly.
“Get in the shower stall with me.” you asked, opening the door.
"What do you want to do?"
“It’s nothing out of this world, but it occurred to me that you’ve never given me a tightjob, I think it’s time we tried it.”
She had some assumptions about what this position was, but you helped her anyway. Yunjin was a rather tall girl, so there were no problems for your dick to fit between her thighs, the result was perfect, nothing uncomfortable. You thought about turning on the shower to lube up a little, but her pussy was so wet and the continuous sweat running down between her thighs was already more than great. You grabbed Yunjin's waist tightly and she crossed her legs a little, squeezing your dick.
You began to thrust into her, your cock sliding back and forth as you dragged Yunjin's labia. So you discovered in the best way that this was very pleasurable for both of you. The internal heat started inside you again and gradually you lost yourself in that exciting sensation. As you approached the final explosion, you bestially grabbed Yunjin in every way possible, sliding your sweat-damp hands down her belly, squeezing her breasts and slapping her ass. You lost yourself in the voluptuousness that was Yunjin's body and- Fuck! She loved it. She loved being your instrument of pleasure, knowing that the person she loved so much reached maddening peaks of passion, desire and lust for her. A juice of feelings for an insatiable thirst.
“Oh baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-”
Without any warning, Yunjin began to move her hips in a rhythm that immediately took you to the precipice of pleasure. The soft, hot, wet, suffocating skin of her thighs dancing over your cock. This was too much for you. When you came, you hugged Yunjin tightly, holding her as if your life depended on it, giving in to inconstant and uncontrollable moans close to her ear. The frantic thrusts lost their rhythm, going deeper and slower through Yunjin's thighs. She held your arms affectionately, waiting for your breathing to become less labored before kissing you.
"I love you." You said to her.
The phrase was so loaded with something that covered your feelings at that moment, and you wished she was the woman of your life and would never leave your side.
"I love you too!" said Yunjin when she found a way out of your tongue. “Baby, you don’t know how much.”
“This took longer than expected. Let’s take our shower.”
“Yep! Let's go."
You turned on the shower. The hot running water was invigorating, even more so being next to Yunjin, you didn't know that sharing certain intimacies was so special until you finally did it with her. you soaped Yunjin's entire body, she helped you wash your back and you shampooed her hair, gently massaging her scalp; it was cute how it relaxed her, she seemed so surrendered to you in that moment, and just a few months ago you were sitting across from her and the other Le Sserafim girls, asking incisive questions about the creative process of their latest album. That's where it all started, after all. And who could say where it would end?
“Hey, baby, let me shampoo your hair now.” Yunjin said with a cutie smile.
Nobody, you thought. Nobody could say.
A/n: sorry for any grammatical errors 😅
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muniimyg · 2 months
Text
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*
series m.list // taglist request closed
note: i literally can't take myself seriously with this concept LOL where have my morals gone? lmk if anyone remembers classic kimi fics where smut was nonexistent HAUWHAUA 😭
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo
//
jungkook has been looking over revisions for the past three hours. the promotion was more exciting when he worked for it... now, he feels way too overworked and honestly? for what?
the truth is, he only chased after the promotion because he knew it would be something you'd be proud of him for doing. you've always been the type to chase after things greater than yourself and wished for jungkook to do the same. well, this is it. this is jungkook doing just that for you. he hopes you can see it. he hopes you know it.
currently, he feels like his eyeballs might roll out of his head. he's bored and might lose his mind if he goes through one more slide (he has at least 200 slides left). irritated, he pushes away from his desk and stands up.
he stretches, trying to wake himself up a little more. then, he stares at the view from his office window.
the city is beautiful but he would much rather be looking at you.
suddenly, as if the angels heard him, his phone rings.
it's you.
he picks up immediately.
"hello?"
he doesn't know why, but he feels nervous. you never call. you always text or facetime... a call? what the fuck could be going on?
"hi... are you busy?" you ask, a little quiet. you sound tired.
he raises an eyebrow. "uhh... what's up? everything okay?"
a small laugh escapes your lips. "yeah. why? do i sound—"
"a little sad," he cuts you off, concerned. "___, what's wrong?"
you stay silent for a moment.
"nothing.”
he doesn’t believe you until he hears you sigh in relief.
continuing, you vent; "i just... i think i'm just stressed. i don't know. i wanted a break and suddenly i picked up my phone and called you. s-sorry. i... you're probably busy with the new promotion and—"
"i'm not that busy—"
like perfect timing, jungkook's office line interrupts. "mr. jeon, your 2pm meeting is being pushed back so you have time for lunch today."
jungkook clears his throat and thanks his assistant.
"new assistant?" you ask, letting curiosity get the best of you. "she pretty?"
"she's fired if you want."
"shut up!" you laugh. "i could care less—"
"oh, you care..." jungkook smirks. "hey, i'm glad you called. you can always call. i'm here for you when you need.. i don't want you to think anything else."
"okay.." is all you say.
jungkook takes a deep breath in. "did you eat today?"
"i ate. did you?"
"been busy—"
"you said you weren't busy!"
"hey, i'm not the lawyer!"
"still... i... listen, i'll let you go. i should probably get back to work or something—"
jungkook panics. "i'm cancelling my 2pm."
"what?"
"y-yeah... i'm looking at their revisions and i haven't even gotten through half of it. it's also shit so i'm just gonna tell them to redo everything. will i be the most hated boss? we'll find out."
on the other end of the line, you snicker.
"you can't blow off work."
"i can."
".... c-can i confess something?"
jungkook gulps, feeling sick to his stomach.
"what?"
you fidget with your fingers, unsure if you should continue.
"honey, what is it?" jungkook asks softly. "whatever it is... i'm here for you. you know that."
"i... uhm... i called because i was stressed..."
"... yeah?"
"jungkook," you pause, biting your bottom lip. is it too much to say this? at the same time... it's not like he has ever denied you anything. you might as well... "i need to relieve some stress. like, i need to focus on something that isn't work or our son. you know what i mean? everything is fine, honest! i just... i want to be focused on something and be present. i feel like i've been mindless for a hot minute... i just... look, if you're going home... is it okay if i come over? can i suck your dick or something?"
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jungkook rushes home.
he changes his bedsheets and runs a quick shower. it's not like he needed to put in this much effort (it's literally the bare minimum) but it's the first time in a long time where you needed him. having sex and initiating was more so 50/50; but this was different. you need him.
he's your relief.
and also... it's a little funny, is it not? it's only 2pm on a random wednesday and you need him.
when you arrive, jungkook takes a few deep breaths before opening the door. his studio apartment is definitely smaller than your place (aka the place you two shared for 4 years), but it's okay. it's only temporary. he knows in his heart that he'll be back home with you in no time. this afternoon proves exactly that...
if today you need him for his body and tomorrow you need his heart; he'd give it.
"wow... i hate this already." you take a minute to laugh at yourself. you feel so beyond stupid and embarrassed... it's practically indescribable. though you and jungkook fool around and have always had an active sex life... right now felt different. right now felt... weird? but if it was ever going to feel weird; at least it's with him.
before you even step foot inside his place, you're turning your heel. "you know what? i should... uhm, this was stupid. sorry—"
jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you inside.
you stay still as he leans towards you face. he pokes your cheek and chuckles. "come on, honey. i said i'd be here for you. let me be here for you."
squinting at him, you move his finger off your face. "you just want your dick sucked."
"you offered," he snorts. "so pull through."
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in hindsight, jungkook should've been more prepared than this.
but he isn't.
he fights to urge to spill himself all over your pretty hands every time you pump his cock. it's toe-curling the way you drag your wrist up and down. he throws his head back so much, it's beginning to get sore. leaving him with no option but to fucking watch you give him the most life changing blowjob of his life.
"are you okay?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. "you look stressed."
"i am stressed."
"what? why—"
"no! f-fuck, don't stop." he growls, not liking the way you suddenly stop. you purse your lips, catching on that he just feels edged out.
already?
... okay.
you continue to pump him, gripping on the base of his cock and moving your way up. his skin is so soft yet he's so hard. like... so fucking hard you know for a fact you don't want to fuck him right now. it'd hurt too much.
"you're so hard already," you utter under your breath. "and i swear to god, it's like your dick gets bigger every time i see it."
"i love you more every time i see you that's why."
"damn," you hiss. "can you... just let me do this? i wanna focus on... wanna focus on—"
"shut up."
you laugh, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. he leans forward, gladly meeting your lips. when you pull away, you plop yourself in a more exact position in front of him. jungkook feels his balls get heavy as you kneel, part his legs, and begin to tie your hair up.
he helps you.
gathering your hair, you give him your hair tie. he quickly ties your hair before leaning back and trying to catch one last good breath.
he fails.
his breath hitches as you kiss his tip.
"w-wait—"
you don't.
you lick his length, dragging your tongue down to his base. there, you suck his balls and use your hands to pump. jungkook gulps, watching you do this. he doesn't know what to do. usually, he's really into it but there's something different about right now.
right now, he's in a trance.
he's mesmorized at how much your touch changes all the chemistry in his body. saying you send electricity throughout his body is an understatement. butterflies don't mean a damn thing either. it's captivating and everything but sweet.
it feels twisted in his stomach. it feels like he's on the edge on a cliff and the only way he can ease his fear is by jumping off.
he has to give in and let his body react to you.
he has to let you have this and from the looks of it (and feel of it); you've giving him everything you've got.
just then, you snap jungkook out of his thoughts as you attempt to take him inside your mouth. you make an effort to look up, eyes teary from holding in your gag. he's so big. there's no other way to explain it and there's no way you're going to stop thinking it.
he's so fucking big.
like what other choice do you have but to slobber all over it? you just have to. not to mention, he always tastes good. his cum, yes, but just his dick in general... is that weird? who cares.
jungkook's dick barely fits in your mouth. but you try to make it work. you want him—all of him. as you bob your head, easing your way to his full length, jungkook lets out a loud moan.
you look up and see his chest rising and falling. his abdomen twitches and so does his dick. you like the way he looks right now. as you suck, his breathing intensifies. soon, he's panting and you're near gagging.
you take a moment to catch your breath.
pulling away, your hands continue the show. jungkook brings his attention back to your hands and watches as the tip of his cock turns angry. god, it's getting bigger?
you practically drool.
jungkook leans over and wipes the access saliva around your lips. then, he shoves his thumb into your mouth. happily, you suck on it. bobbing your head, shutting your eyes, and letting out little moans; jungkook feels like he's losing his mind.
you look so fucking pretty.
when he takes his thumb out, you dive back to his dick. this time, he holds you by the back of your neck and guides you through it. jungkook pushes your head slowly but surely. then, he stops moving it. he keeps it in place as he lifts his hips and rolls them.
before you know it, he's fucking your mouth.
rolling your eyes back, jungkook moans at the sight. of course you're taking it like a slut. of course you're enjoying it too.
"you like this, huh? you like having your face fucked?" jungkook hisses in between breathy pants.
you gag in response.
jungkook pulls his dick out and slaps your mouth with it. his veiny member feels so good against your lips. you want it back in your mouth.
"answer me."
"mhmm," you whimper. "i like it so much. put it back in—mmhph—"
"fuck yes," he shoves his cock back into your mouth. "so pretty, honey. the absolute prettiest."
suddenly, he lets you go. it's then that you take the liberty to give it everything you've got.
you twirl your tongue around his tip, suck his length in every way possible. your hands pump to compliment your oral skills and jungkook can't help but think he's the luckiest man on earth.
then, it happens.
you feel his dick twitch. he instantly thrusts himself more aggressively to chase the climax. you behave and take it. then, squirts of his cum escape his tip. he cries, pulls out of your mouth, and aims at your face.
you shut your eyes, feeling his cum hit your cheeks and lips.
he lets out a moan of relief.
after a moment passes, you get up from your position and sit on his lap. wrapping your legs around him, he offers you a tired smile. then, he lifts his hands to wipe his cum off your face. opening your mouth, he gives it to you like icing.
you swallow and he feels like he might need a fucking minute.
then, you let out a little giggle when you notice how sweaty he is. you push his hair back and begin to laugh.
"w-what?" he worries. "why are you laughing at me?"
"you're sweating? as if you did any work—"
"i was literally fucking your face!"
"yeah but you're not the one that's gonna have sore cheeks for like three days or bruised knees!"
he shuts up.
you roll your eyes at him and continue to play with his hair. you feel his dick calm down under you. thank god. that fucking beast is scary when you're not in the mood...
"what time is it?" you ask, breaking the silence and breathing in the smell of sin.
jungkook shrugs. "dunno. also don't wanna move. stay like this with me."
you huff. "should i take my panties off or something?"
"why?"
"wanna cockwarm me?"
seriously...
he just might be the luckiest man on earth.
jungkook clears his throat as you straighten up your posture. "wait, i'll just put my panties to the side like this—ahh, mmhmm... y-yeah. like this.... feels good."
by now, jungkook's soft cock is inside you.
you like the feeling and so does he.
suddenly, you rest your head of his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you and holds you. kissing the side of your head, he asks; "you feeling better? relieved?"
"mhmm."
"good." jungkook tightens his lips, as he brings his hands to your hair. he runs them through and you take a deep breath in. you like the way he feels right now... so intimate.
"hey... did we talk a lot during sex?" he asks.
"don't remember."
"oh, okay..." jungkook looks around his studio apartment and suddenly feels embarrassed at how messy it is. "can i come with you to pick zion up today?"
"sure."
jungkook tightens his hold on you. you laugh and tell him it's too tight. he stops squeezing you and asks for a kiss. you give it to him. against your lips, he mummbles; "am i talking too much? i think i'm nervous or something—"
"then shut up."
"hey—"
you pull away and cup his cheeks.
"i feel your dick rising inside me. i don't have the energy for round two. either make the boner go away or i'll get off."
jungkook gulps. then, he shuts his eyes and thinks of every possible un-sexy thing ever... and it works. his dick softens again and you thank him with a kiss. jungkook takes his chance and intertwines your fingers together. you let him do so and his heart soars. something about him being inside you makes you feel so whole. there’s no denying that… and you love it, really. you love him, truly.
for a few more moments, you two stay like this.
you two are together.
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isak-dot-gov · 27 days
Text
Lie to Girls
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Singer!reader
Word count: 1133
My masterlist :)
......................................
Paige sat alone in her dorm room, staring at the ceiling. She had just gotten off a video call with you, and the conversation had been... strained, to say the least. You were on the other side of the country, promoting your new album, Short n' Sweet. It was supposed to be a celebratory time for both of you, but instead, the distance between you felt more like an emotional chasm than a physical one.
Paige knew she had messed up. She had kept secrets from you, told white lies that grew into something much bigger and more hurtful. She didn’t mean to deceive you, but one small lie led to another until she was caught in a web of her own making. She hadn't realised the extent of the damage until now, when it seemed like your trust in her was crumbling.
A knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Paige, you coming to the common room?” Nika poked her head in, offering a small smile. “We’re gonna listen to Y/N’s new album together.”
Paige hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt. She hadn’t even listened to the album yet—too afraid of what she might hear. She knew you wrote from the heart, and if there was anything about your recent rough patch, she didn’t know if she could handle it.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” she finally replied, getting up. Maybe listening with her teammates would make it easier.
When she arrived at the common room, the rest of the UCONN women’s basketball team was already there, sprawled out on couches and chairs. The speakers were hooked up, and someone had pulled up your album on their phone. As the opening track started playing, the room filled with your voice, warm and familiar. It was like you were there with them.
The first few songs were upbeat, celebrating love, friendship, and life’s little joys. Paige smiled sadly, remembering when you wrote those songs, how excited you had been to share them with her. She had been so proud of you, so in love. And she still was, even if she had been too foolish to show it lately.
But as the album progressed, the tone shifted. The songs became more introspective, more raw. Paige could feel the tension in the room grow as everyone sensed the change. Then, the soft guitar intro of the second last track, "Lie to Girls," began to play, and Paige’s heart clenched.
Your voice came through the speakers, softer than usual, almost fragile:
Don’t swear on your mom
That it’s the first drink that you’ve had in like a month
No, don’t say it was just
An isolated incident that happened once
Paige’s breath hitched. She could feel the weight of your words like a punch to the gut. She knew this was about her, about the lies she had told to keep things easy, to avoid conflict. But now, hearing the pain in your voice, she realised just how deeply she had hurt you.
The song continued, each line a dagger twisting in Paige’s heart:
There’s no need to pretend
I’ve never seen an ugly truth that I can’t bend
To something that looks better
I’m stupid, but I'm clever
Yeah, I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever
Paige swallowed hard, tears pricking at her eyes. She glanced around the room, noticing the sombre expressions on her teammates’ faces. They knew, too. They knew what this was about.
You don't have to lie to girl
If they like you they’ll just lie to themselves
Like you, they’ll just lie to themselves
You don't have to lie to girls
If they like you, they’ll just lie to themselves 
Don’t I know it better than anyone else?
The chorus hit, and Paige felt a tear slip down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, trying to keep her composure. She remembered all the times you had asked her if something was wrong, all the times she had brushed it off or made excuses. She had thought she was protecting you, but she had only been protecting herself.
All of your best excuses
No, they don’t stand a chance
Against all the chances I give you
Isn’t ideal, but damn
You don’t even have to try
Turn you into a good *girl* 
You don’t have to lift a finger 
It’s lucky for you I’m just like 
My mother (And my sisters)
All my (All my friends)
The girl outside the strip club getting her tarot cards read
We love to read the cold, hard facts and swear they’re incorrect
We love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest
Paige couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. She covered her face with her hands, sobs shaking her shoulders. She felt Azzi’s arm wrap around her, pulling her into a comforting hug. “It’s okay, Paige,” Azzi whispered, but Paige shook her head.
“It’s not okay,” Paige choked out between sobs. “I lied to her. I lied to her, and now… now she’s hurting, and it’s all my fault.”
Aaliyah reached out, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Paige, we all make mistakes. But you have to own up to them. You have to show her you’re willing to change.”
Paige nodded, trying to steady her breathing. The song was still playing, your voice breaking as you sang the final lines:
Girls will cry and girls will lie and (Ooh)
Girls will lose their goddamn minds for you (Oh)
They’ll cry and girls will lie and 
Do it ‘til the day they die for you
The song ended, and the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Paige knew she couldn’t let things stay like this. She had to make it right. She had to find a way to earn back your trust, to show you that she was willing to be honest, no matter how hard it was.
“I need to talk to her,” Paige said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to tell her everything.”
The team nodded in agreement, offering murmurs of support. They knew how much you meant to Paige, and they wanted to see her make things right.
Paige stood up, wiping her eyes. She didn’t know if you would forgive her, didn’t know if she could fix what she had broken. But she had to try. She couldn’t let you go without a fight.
As she left the room, Paige replayed your song in her mind, your voice echoing in her ears. She had a lot to make up for, but she was determined to start now. She had lied to you, but she wouldn’t lie to herself anymore. She loved you, and she was ready to do whatever it took to prove it.
...........................................................
Isak speaks: Some people are gonna hate me for leaving this on a cliffhanger so I'll get the apology video ready lol. Also I promise I'll post a part two. Can I guarantee It'll be out extremely soon? No, not really(sorry again), but I will try so that's gotta count for something, right? This song has also been stuck in my head all day hence why I came up with this
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sometimesanalice · 2 years
Text
What’s In a Name?
Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.
Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI
Length: 9K
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)
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Bradley loved hearing you say his name. 
He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.
There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips. 
He loved hearing it every chance he could. 
He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.
BradleyBradleyBradley
He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.
He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store. 
He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.
Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.
You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.
Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.
“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”
“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.
“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.
He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.
“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.
“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.
He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost. 
Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.
“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman. 
“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”
“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice. 
He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart. 
“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.” 
That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.” 
You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later. 
“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”
His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.
“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.
“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.” 
She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.
“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.” 
He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.
“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.
“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.
He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.
He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.
He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk. 
Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.
You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.
What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend. 
Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.
“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now. 
“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.
“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”
He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.
Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.
“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?” 
“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”
When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.
You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.” 
And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.
He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.
There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm. 
“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck.  He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more. 
He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.
The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth. 
He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised. 
When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.
The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands. 
He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.
Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.
You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it. 
Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm. 
Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar. 
It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.
“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?” 
“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”
“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”
That was all he wanted.
He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.
“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you. 
The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself. 
He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.
Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment. 
It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.
He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:
“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”
And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar. 
He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:
“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”
And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table. 
“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.
After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.
He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:
“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”
And then he would find himself seated at the piano.
To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’. 
To you he was Bradley. 
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Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.
Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.
There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.
You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on. 
Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.
He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.
Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.
You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.
Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.
Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing. 
And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.
The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.
He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room. 
Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.
Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.
Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs. 
His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched. 
You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze. 
And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.
Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on. 
The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.
You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.  
“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.
You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.
It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.
Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.
There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.
You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it. 
You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet. 
And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself. 
You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.
Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:
Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!
In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance. 
You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of. 
You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.
Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.
Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.
You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.
While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.
You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.
“Hey, kid.”
And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy. 
“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.
You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.
“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.
“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”
“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior. 
“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you. 
You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.
“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.
“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”
The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.
“Bradley.” 
You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.” 
The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco. 
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He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.
You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something. 
That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.
It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.
However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.
He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.
So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible.  And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either. 
He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.
“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.
You didn’t need to tell him twice. 
He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.
He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.
“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.” 
“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.
You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”
“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.
“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.
“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.
“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”
Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him. 
He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.
There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.
How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?
He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his. 
He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.
He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his. 
He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.
What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.
You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.
You were his sweet girl.
“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed. 
He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.
“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him. 
Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse. 
Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.
His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured. 
His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.
He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him. 
“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”
Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.
“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.
Yet another offering to his bedroom floor. 
And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties. 
He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”
You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.
“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.
Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.
He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want. 
“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.
Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach. 
“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder. 
“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild. 
“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.
It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers. 
“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.” 
He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.
He will never get tired of watching you fall apart. 
He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed. 
Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself. 
He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition. 
But you make him feel good.
No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.
He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.
“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.
“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him. 
“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?” 
“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.
“Did you think about it? Think about me?” 
He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him. 
“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”
Good.
“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.
He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.
He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.
It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. 
He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.
You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.
He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.
“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”
Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed. 
“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.
He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.
“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.” 
Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him. 
Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.
The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.
“I want you inside me.”
Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center. 
And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips. 
He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.
“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down. 
Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye.  He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.
“R-ooster.” 
The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again. 
He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.
“Say my name.”
He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.
“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.
If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you. 
He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.
The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.
Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.
“Say my name,” he coaxes again.
He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.
“Bradshaw,” you counter.
Closer, but still not what he wants to hear. 
His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.
Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most. 
He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.
You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.
“You want this cock?” he rasps.
He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.
“Look at me,” he demands. 
You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.
“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”
That makes you whine. 
“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.
He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.
“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.” 
He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.
“Bradley!” you cry out.
He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out. 
Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”
Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.
He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.
“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”
His name. 
The only thing he wanted running through your mind. 
His name. 
The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you. 
“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.
Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you. 
“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.
“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.
Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.
You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had. 
His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.
He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep. 
He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm. 
Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.
You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.
“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat. 
He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.
“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth. 
“Bradley, please.” 
He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.
“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.” 
He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.
And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.
Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you. 
It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.
A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.
Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.
“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.
Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom. 
“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.
“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice. 
“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.
True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.
Much better.
He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder. 
“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone. 
Up the side of his neck.
He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.
“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.
The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.
And then you’re giggling.
“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”
Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.
“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.
“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.” 
If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.
He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.
“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”
And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.
Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name. 
Over, and over, and over again. 
A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.  
His bed. Your bed. Their bed.
It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.
Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere. 
He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off. 
There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.
He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways. 
You would always be worth the wait.
The packages that were delivered to the door?
His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.
The name signed on the lease for the condo? 
His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him. 
The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand? 
His, for now, but always meant to be yours.
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You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!
Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse​ for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead! 
Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!
You can check my other fics out here!
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moonstruckme · 10 months
Note
just finished a rewatch of ootp and i forgot how cute luna and harry’s friendship is!! had me start thinking about what a james potter x luna lovegood-esque reader relationship would look like and i RAN to your ask because i just have to see what your take on it would be! love love LOVE ur writing, no pressure to write this tho if the inspo doesn’t hit!! thank u lovely <333
I forget how sweet they are all the time too! Thanks for requesting honey <3
James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 986 words
James comes home to find all of his pants on the floor. 
“Unless I’ve started sleepwalking,” he says, and you look up at the sound of his voice from where you’re crouched next to one pair of jeans, apparently digging through his pockets, “I’m fairly sure I put these away after I took them out of the dryer last night.” 
“Oh, don’t worry,” you reassure him in that quiet, breezy way of yours. “You did. If you were sleepwalking, I would tell you.” 
James waits a second for you to elaborate, then realizes how foolish that is of him. “Then what are they all doing on the floor, my love?” 
“It’s the first day of the waxing moon.” Coins clink in your palm as you remove it from his pocket, and then—to James surprise—simply submerge your hand in the opposite pocket, dropping the change in. “You keep a lot of money in your pants, did you know? It’s lucky the dryer didn’t shake it all out.” 
Actually, he had found a few coins after taking out his laundry the night before, but apparently there’s still some left over in his deep pockets. “What does the moon have to do with anything? And are you robbing me? If so, you’re doing a horrible job, sweetheart.” 
You sit back, setting your bum on your heels, and smile at him in that indulgent way you do when you think he’s being silly. It emits a soft glow, and James can’t help but squat in front of you, pecking you on the lips in belated greeting. 
You kiss him back without complaint, lips soft and pliant and curved against his. “You switch your coins to the opposite pocket for good fortune during the waxing moon, Jamie. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it before.” 
“I can tell you most certainly that I haven’t,” he promises, tucking a hand behind your ear to cradle your head. You lean into the touch absentmindedly even as your lips draw into a little frown. 
“Then how did your family get to be so rich?” you muse softly. 
It takes some effort for James to smother the laughter that rises in his chest, turning it into a pensive hum. “I suppose they might’ve always known and just kept it a secret from me. My mum did say she wanted me to make my own way in the world.” 
“Oh.” You nod, certainty restored to your countenance. “That’s it, then. Not very considerate of them not to give you the tools for success, but I suppose every parent has their own ideas about those things.” 
James only hums again, lips curving of their own volition. “Anything else we need to do tonight to accommodate the waxing moon, darling?” 
You laugh, the sound light and lovely as the tinkling of wind chimes. “Jamie, the waxing moon lasts for fourteen days. We’ve got two weeks for everything we want to do.” 
“Oh, how silly of me.” He grins at you, stealing another quick kiss. “Everything, you say? What might that be?” 
“Well,” you say, returning to your task with the next pair of pants closest to you, “the waxing moon helps draw good things toward you. Like fortune” —you hold up a sparse palmful of coins for him to see before transferring them to the other pocket— “or a good harvest, or new love, or new job—didn’t you say you were thinking about asking for a promotion? This would be a good time.” 
“Maybe,” James replies with due consideration, but truly his mind has gotten snagged on one idea and not let go. “Love, eh?” He grins at you, reaching to wrap his hands around your waist and sliding you across the floor to him. “Should I be prepared to feel extra besotted for the next couple of weeks?” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder to look up at him, going lax in his embrace. You’re a rather placid thing by nature, but he knows you secretly love it when he manhandles you like this. You go all soft and cloudy-eyed, and even now, you certainly seem far from scolding him for interrupting your task. “I’m pretty far gone already,” he says, just to hammer it home, “so I’m not sure how much worse it can get.” 
He’s rewarded with a light flush across the tops of your cheekbones. “It’s new love, Jamie,” you correct him. “The waxing moon doesn’t affect love that already exists.” 
“Oh, I see.” He narrows his eyes down at you. “So this is your opportunity to ditch me for some new bloke, is that it?” 
The adoration doesn’t leave your gaze, but you shrug. “I’m not manifesting that, so I suppose it’s up to the moon to decide.” 
Some of the levity leaves him. “Wait, so if some other guy said he was drawn to you by the waxing moon, you’d consider it?” 
You let your head weigh heavily on his shoulder, pursing your lips slightly in contemplation. “I suppose I’d at least hear him out. It’s powerful magic during this time, you know? I’d at least be curious what drew him. Or them, you never know.” 
Now James is the one who’s frowning. “That’s not very reassuring, sweetheart.” 
You seem to come back to yourself, eyes focussing on his again and a small smile returning to your lips. “Don’t worry, Jamie.” You lean up to kiss him before slipping free of his hold, going to find another pair of jeans to dig through. “I’d obviously wait until the clarity of the full moon to decide on anything.” 
“Obviously,” James echoes, feeling somewhat dazed as he stands. “Um, angel? If you meet someone who tells you the moon sent them to you, would you at least let me know? I think if I tell Sirius about it, you may find they don’t stick around until the full moon anyway.” 
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starfall-isle · 2 months
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Hello! My commissions are open again, slots are currently available indefinitely until I’m in a more stable financial situation or in need of a buffer!
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yndrgrl · 7 months
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yandere! bakugo, the no. one hero in japan, is your boss, & you're his personal assistant
soft! yandere. fem! reader. pro hero! au. willing! reader. long ass fic. ooc! bakugo.
warnings: nsfw, power dynamic, implied age gap (not too big tho lmao), p-in-v, obsessive behavior, stalking, toys, slight coercion
a/n: guys... what's the "read more" feature 💀
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---
you are a phenomenon, at least in the world of working under big-league heroes you are. traditionally, employees that have five years of experience under the company will most likely get the position of secretary, then after years of being a secretary, they have an opportunity to be promoted to personal assistant. so when you, a random, nobody college student with only dead end job experiences on your resume, got hired as his secretary -after applying as a joke- the office was buzzing with rumors & critiques. you knew that they all harshly judged you by the way they glared at you when you left after your second interview with big boss man himself. you were self-conscious, especially after you got that fateful call from dynamight's personal phone that you've gotten the job. insecure, that's what you felt.
dynamight, on the other hand, didn't feel the need to explain himself to anyone. he honestly couldn't care less about the chatter circulating his office.
from an outsider's (& anyone else's to be honest) perspective, it seemed like a terrible choice to hire you. however, dynamight knew what he was doing; he knew you.
he saved you once upon a time, when he first debuted as a pro hero. you could never forget the ruby color of his eyes, the scars & soot that he was covered in. you could never forget the serious expression he wore as he carried you to safety.
at first, you were just another damn civilian caught in the crossfire between him & a gang of wannabe mastermind villains, then he looked into your eyes-- your captivating, watery, (color) eyes. his breath hitched as his gaze pierced through yours. he blamed it on a quirk you might have. fall-in-love-with-a-single-gaze quirk? yeah, that must be it, he thought.
your first encounter left you both in a confusing state of emotions, but you soon considered it a distant memory of tragedy then hope. it sparked a -seemingly- unachievable dream to, one day, work under dynamight. you remember him all to well, & sometimes, when you think about it too much, you tear up that such an influential figure in your life will never remember you in the same light.
or so you thought.
unaware, you thought he forgot all about you, but no. he thought of you everyday. he cursed himself for never saying anything more than, "are you alright?" then guiding you to the paramedics. he never got your name, & he hated himself for it. for years, he would look for your face in the crowd. his heart would flutter when he thought he saw your doe-like expression-- until he gave them a closer look, & it wasn't you.
& so, when you walked into his office building just as he was leaving through a different exit, he caught a glimpse of you. he did a double-take, slowed his pace, & his ruby eyes grew wide. it was you going into the interview room. "mr. bakugo, this way, please," a stranger guided him, yet he couldn't rip his gaze from the room. you were right there, & he can't even talk to you. he was being rushed off into a black suv to go to some random conference.
as soon as he got back to the office, he racked through all the resumes, quizzing the interviewer that day about every applicant. his temples ached as she kept talking, but he couldn't get too mad at her. after all, he told her to tell him about every single person she interviewed today. "-then before my lunch, the cutest, little lady came in. it was clearly her first time interviewing for such a position," the older woman chuckled. dynamight's ears perked up. could it be?
"tell me more," the blonde inquired.
"oh, you know. it's just her resume wasn't the most impressive compared to everyone else's."
he wanted to ask what she looked like, but that would he too out of character for him. however, he knew that if he let her keep talking, she would describe her in more detail.
"is that so?"
"oh yes, but she was so sweet that i wanted to offer her an intern position instead. she seemed so eager, you know? she honestly looks like a girl i once taught. did i ever tell you that i was a teacher, bakugo?" she questioned, having a tendency to go on tangents
"i do remember you telling me about that," he told her. he's grown into a gentleman through out the years... or he's just a little less of an asshole, it's hard to tell. he's grown more respectful for his elders (as in the senior citizens who love reminiscing of their youth, not the "elders" who are snakey businessmen). "how were they alike?"
"oh, man, you're really testing my memory," she laughed, "they both had the most beautiful, (color) hair, but the girl i interviewed was definitely not my old student, i think. (y/n), the young woman i interviewed, had such a fun style too! i think her eyes were... actually i don't remember," the woman paused for a second, before her eyes lit up. "wait! she took a picture for our system! you have to see her, bakugo, she's really just the cutest. i think she would make a great intern, & maybe one day, a great secretary!" with a few clicks of her mouse & words typed on her keyboard, she pulled up a picture of a woman, a picture of you. she turned her screen towards the pro hero. it was you.
~
"so, (y/n), is it?" your boss, the dynamight, sat across from you, a desk in between the two of you. he acted like he had no idea who you were, even though he spends the majority of the day in office watching your through surveillance cameras. he just loved the way you walked with such subconscious confidence.
"y-yes, sir," you cleared your throat. what kind of impression are you making by stuttering?
you were warned by all your coworkers that dynamight does take shit, that he is a tyrant, & that he can smell fear. naturally, you were sweating bullets. "please, call me katsuki," he requested. he watched your brows furrow in confusion before snapping back to a relaxed expression. "you've been working here for a little over a month, is that right?"
you were bewildered. you felt like your coworkers lied to you about him being so rude & uncooperative. he seemed nice, stern, yes, but nice nonetheless.
the shocking, yet welcomed, kindness eased your nerves. your lips broke into a small smile, saying, "yes, it has been."
"how has it been? working here?" he questioned, leaning back into his chair. your eyes darted from his bulky form to the window to the cup of pens on his desk. you were in a mental quarrel. for the most part, your coworkers have been alright to your face. they'll let a snarky comment come out then mask it as a joke. but you knew the rumors swimming around the office, you knew how they all thought you were under qualified. of course you were, so speculations of how you had rich parents or you're just a really good temptress started to blossom.
you could lie to save all of their sorry asses, build rapport with them, or you could tell the truth, get a more favorable outcome for yourself but be labeled a tattle-tell & a bitch.
"(y/n)? is everything alright?" katsuki's uncharacteristically softened voice called out. "you know you can tell me anything that's going on. i only have your best interests in mind, you're mine," he paused, "you're my employee."
you must've misheard him, so you shrugged it off. "can i be honest with you?"
"of course."
you took a deep breath. you're already committed. "i don't mean to already cause problems or be, you know, that girl, but there have been some things said about me by my coworkers that i just don't really like. i mean, i don't think they meant it in a rude way, but i also don't want to have the reputation that they're trying to paint for me... does that make sense?"
this is was a surprise to katsuki. he's usually in touch with all the gossip in his agency. he would be an idiot if he thought that people wouldn't be offended that he hired you over them for such a position, but he knew your charms could get you far. how can your charms get you far if no one gave you the time of day, though?
you realized your disadvantages in this job. you had no degree yet, you were probably the youngest in the office, & you have no real experiences outside of customer service. however, you didn't know that the older, more experienced workers would be so hostile to you.
"what have they been saying?" katsuki asked, leaning forward.
"they've just been saying how i must have rich parents who got me this position or like, i must be doing... favors for someone on the hiring team."
katsuki gritted his teeth, his composure slipping. it made him absolutely sick thinking about you with someone else.
you continued, "& some of the jokes they tell me feel inappropriate? but that could be just because that's their humor."
you're so cute, trying to protect them, katsuki cooed in his head.
"i'm sorry to hear your experience has been pleasant so far. i can assure you that i'll have that taken care of. who's been saying those kinds of things to you?"
"oh... um... it's hard to say. i think it's best just to send out an email to everyone because i don't really know who says those kinds of things." it's a lie, but you didn't want a big confrontation & write an official complaint so soon into your first corporate job.
"(y/n)," katsuki said in a nearly-demanding tone. "tell me the truth." he was intimidating in the blink of an eye.
"i-i promise i am," you replied, nervously scratching your knuckle. "i just... uh, don't really know who's talking about me behind my back?"
it was silent for only a moment. katsuki's eyes were glued on your smaller form. you gulped.
"i want to schedule another meeting next week to ensure that the harassment was put to a stop."
~
a week came & went, & the meeting you had with katsuki was brief. in short, he asked, "have you heard anything more?"
you replied truthfully, just as last time. "yes. it could be in my head, but it's worse now."
the company-wide email didn't work, & it enraged katsuki that his employees, the ones that work under him, are defying him with such misplaced confidence.
how dare they insult him by disobeying him, & how dare they make you feel unwelcome.
because of their antics, he has been floating around your workspace. his mere presence causes all the bothersome whispers into quiet typing. looming over your cubical, katsuki, with a ghost of a smirk, would observe your work-- how you would mess up twice as much under his gaze. "it looks good, (y/n)," he praised before looking at all of the peering coworkers. he would shoot them a glare.
he was such a good boss to you.
the more you worked at his agency, the more you saw of him. & the more you got comfortable with him. he may be your boss, but he was slowly becoming you friend, you felt. the more you saw him, the more you realized he was your work crush. what a cliche.
you sat in his office, this time with your lunch on his desk as the two of you chatted. it was the new norm to eat lunch with each other. you don't know when it happened but it was also the norm for him to order whatever you wanted. you insisted on paying him back every time, however he never let you.
"this is so good, i haven't had this in forever," you raved as you took another bite of your food. "thank you so much! i really owe you one."
"shut up," katsuki said back with a slight smirk. god, he loved spoiling you.
"no, but i do though," you said, whining. the banter between the you two sprung up after he, for the fifth time that day, stopped by your cubicle a few days ago. his humor was crude & could be consider bullying... but he's so hot-
"(y/n), you don't owe me anything. it's just a thank you for doing such good work, so don't be a dumbass & try & pay me back or something," katsuki practically yawned. he was swimming in money, so much that he didn't know what to do with it, so what better way to spend it than on you? "besides, i was your age once. you need to save."
"you're not that much older than me, just a few years," you rolled your eyes. "also, i do have a quick question."
"what is it?"
you fished two pieces of paper out of your bag. "i think there was some sort of mistake? when i got my paycheck, i got two checks?"
"yeah?"
"well, it's just... i'm one person?"
katsuki laughed out loud. he loved toying with you; he knew what you were trying to ask, but hearing you dance around the question was just too cute.
"yeah, i know that, (y/n)."
"katsuki, i'm serious!" you half-joked, half-said. "why did you send me two checks?"
"one is your payroll check," he told you; you nodded. "the other is your bonus." you had to stop yourself from dropping your jaw
"wait, what? i still don't get it," you replied. "my paycheck is too much. i don't usually get this much."
"i gave you a raise," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "didn't you read my email i sent?"
"o-oh... yes, of course-"
he shot you a look that said, "don't bullshit me."
"okay, i didn't... but still! i didn't even do anything to get a raise."
"whatever, just eat you food."
the next day, his heart swelled (more than usual) when you walked through the door. you were practically glowing in a new, clearly expensive outfit, your hair done, nails painted, & a gorgeous smile gracing your lips.
"someone's happy," he commented as he followed you to your cubicle. "what's the big deal?"
"i don't know, i just had a lot more money saved up than i thought so i decided to treat myself out," you admitted, gitty.
you dolled yourself up with the money he gave you. it only made him want to spoil you more, shower you with gifts & give you whatever you want.
"i'm glad you're enjoying your raise," he chuckled, a smirk on his face because, in his peripheral, he could see your coworkers' jaws drop in disbelief. he leaned close, brushed your silky hair away from your neck, behind your ear. katsuki whispered, "you've been so good, you deserve it." your face exploded into a shade of bright pink as you stuttered out a thank you.
you couldn't get that moment out of your head. the thought burned itself into your memory. it made your core throb. he was so close to your face, you could smell his expensive cologne. it was intoxicating. he made you just so desperate.
after a long work day, you got back to your cozy, one-bedroom apartment, and a package awaited your doorstep. katsuki, from a security camera he secretly installed, watched you bring it into your house. you went straight into your bedroom & placed it on your desk.
you spent so much already, what more could you have gotten? it's not like he's complaining. he's happy to provide for you. you're just so cute; you act like you've never seen money in your life. he wants to show you how good life can be with him.
you slid the blade of a pair of scissors across the tape of the box. eager, you unboxed the product, rubbing your thighs together.
"what are you up to, hm?" he whispered to himself. he chewed his lip, cock already semi-hard because of your after-work attire-- which was compression shorts & an oversized, white tee without a bra.
you ran to the bathroom, all he could hear was the water running. you were too quick for the camera to render. one minute you were your room, then the bathroom, then back into your room. there was a sneaky grin on your face as you hummed in approval.
your body was blocking what you bought until you walked away to grab something else from your bed stand drawer. katsuki's eyes widened. standing straight up (with a slight left curve) was a silicone dildo colored a fleshy pink. next to it was a ripped-open box that it came out of; "pro hero dynamight replica dildo! life-like! bring your dynamight dreams to life!" the box read.
he twitched, it was comical, could be considered creepy to some. but to him, it riled him up. this meant you wanted him, needed him, just as he needed you.
you swiftly came back to the toy with a bottle in hand. you laid a towel on your seat before sitting down. logging onto your computer, you couldn't help but feel utterly ashamed, embarrassed, but it's not like anyone is watching you, so no one would know. there was a knot pent up in your stomach, begging to be massaged out. you pulled up a video of your boss, the dynamight, where it was showcase of -what fans called- daddy/sexy/hot moments of his. you were so embarrassed, but he was the only one who could satisfy your craving.
god, i'm such a creep, you scolded yourself as you took off your shorts & panties. just an awful, horny weirdo, you thought. the toy you bought was big & girthy, & it was clearly artificial because there's no world where man can actually get that big, right? you prepped yourself by circling your clit with your middle finger, then dove into your wet hole with three fingers. you let out a sigh of ecstasy.
you poured lube onto your toy, then you began stroking it to coat every inch & "vein". katsuki already had his cock in his hand, matching the tempo of your strokes, beads of precum leaking out of his tip. "fuck, (y/n)," he muttered with his eyes glued to the screen. you're katsuki's little camgirl.
you took the dildo, closed your eyes, & began mentally preparing yourself for the toy. you've never taken anything this big. slowly, you pushed the dick into your wet pussy with your breath held. once it was half way inside, you let out a shaky groan, trying to adjust to the size. "ngh~ ah~ k-kats-suki," you whimpered, the video still playing clips of him.
"(y/n)," katsuki moaned back, wishing you could hear him. "put it all the way in."
you must've been put on this earth to obey him because, after he said that, you sunk the dildo into pussy. you let out a squeal; your eyes shot open only to roll in the back of you head. "so big," you whined. you waited for yourself to adjust. with your feet on the rests of the chair & one hand on your clit & the other one pumping the dildo in & out of your hole, katsuki started to screen record everything.
"harder, baby," he demanded, "go fuckin' harder."
you were in your own world, acting as though he were there with you. "p-please katsuki." you started to thrust the toy in all the way, taking it nearly out, then shoving it back in. you did it as fast as you could, but it still wasn't enough. you bucked your hips into the dildo. "uh~ mmm~ fuuuck."
while still in your pussy, you set your legs down & placed the base of the dildo on the chair. you started to ride the toy, its artificial veins wracking against your nerves, sending electric shocks up your spine. your ass & thighs jiggled every time you lifted your hips & shot them back down; katsuki was mesmerized.
his hand tightly jerked his hard cock, more precum leaking out. there was nothing else that mattered except you; his phone buzzed from notifications sent by his friends & colleagues. he couldn't tear his eyes from your sexy figure, bouncing up & down the dildo.
"k-katsuki! 'm cumming!" you moaned out. you threw your head back, mouth agape, your riding becoming erratic.
it was music to his ears-- you yelling his name. "baby, cum~" he replied, as if it were the real deal. as if you were actually there with him, as if you were the one squeezing his throbbing dick. he watched as your back arched & your body spasmed around the dildo. you kept calling out for katsuki until your high ran out. you cleaned up, hid the toy in your bottom drawer, did your nightly routine as if nothing happened, then went to sleep.
katsuki, still hard even after cumming, needed more.
the next day, you woke up with sore thighs & a distinct throb in between your legs. even after fucking yourself silly with the dynamight toy, it didn't satiate your hunger. you were embarrassed that you thought of your boss that way. you couldn't help but feel ashamed; it felt so good. it felt so good thinking, fantasizing, about katsuki's muscular physique, his thick, hard cock pumping in & out of you. it almost felt right to think of him that way.
while your head was still clouded with lust, you put on a black, lace thong under your pencil skirt that was just barely long enough to be considered work-appropriate. you wore translucent, black tights underneath & a cute pair of mary janes. your shirt was tight fitting. it eventuated every curve of your body in the most flattering way, &, feeling confident, you unbuttoned the first two to show a bit of your collarbone, nothing more. finally, you did your hair & makeup & cooked yourself a quick breakfast, then you were off to work.
at work, you just had an aura about you-- satisfied, calm, & joyful. you must've gotten a good night's rest, thought you coworkers.
katsuki knew better though.
as you strutted to his office, you had a pep -& a slight limp- to your step. you held a binder close to your chest. you felt like a stereotypical secretary in one of those cheesy, horny 2000's movies. you gently knocked on katsuki's office door, & heard a faint, "come in."
"good morning," you smiled as you sauntered closer to his mahogany desk. you plopped yourself down in the same seat you always do & set your binder down on his desk; he never minded.
he had his eyes trained on you, darker than usual, & greeted back, "good morning, (y/n). how are you?"
"i'm doing good, how are you?" you responded, an innocent smile flashed towards him.
you were anything but innocent, katsuki thought. "i'm actually having a tough morning." this shocked you because katsuki really didn't seem like the type to open up, especially to some random employee he hired.
"i'm sorry to hear that," you said, "can i ask why?"
"i've just been so... pent up," he told you, his jaw clenching for a second before he swallowed.
he didn't take his eyes off of you for a second, & you noticed. you squirmed under his serious gaze. "you are the number one hero right now. it's a lot of pressure," you tried to rationalize.
he stood up from his chair slowly, so you figured you must've overstepped. "i-i'm sorry, katsuki, i didn't mean it in a rude way," you defended, & he still hasn't responded.
he stalked closer to your chair until he was directly in front of you. you gulped, looking up at him. you didn't know whether it was appropriate to sit or stand, so you stayed still, sitting.
another awkward moment of silence passed, & you were about to look away when katsuki started, "the only other time i've been pent up like this was years ago."
"what made you stress so bad?"
"a saved a girl. she was beautiful, & i was dumb. i never got her name, i barely even talked to her. our encounter was brief, yet i couldn't take my mind off of her. for weeks, i was just so frustrated, i didn't know why. years passed & i thought i was finally over it, finally i came to terms that i would never again see her," he ranted, & you lowered gaze, breaking the eye contact. "i had searched everywhere for her. in every city i've ever visited, in every crowd that would form, in every building. i never found her. all my efforts, to waste."
you were sensitive, maybe too sensitive. your doe eyes teared up as you looked down at your lap. "i... i don't know why you're telling me this."
a warm hand cupped your chin; it guided your face upward, & there you were again, locking eyes with your boss. this time, your eyelashes stuck together with tears that have yet to fall. "i never found her, (y/n), & it hurt because i knew that i am the best for her. i gave up," he took a short pause, drinking in your defeated expression that you tried to mask, "until one day, she walked into my agency for an interview, a position she wasn't -at all- qualified for."
you swallowed the lump in your throat. "what are you saying?"
"(y/n), i've been so pent up lately," he restated, his hand still cupping your face while the other adjusted his pants. your eyes followed his other hand, widening. was he hard.. for you? "& i know you've been so stressed lately. it's such a big position, y'know. being my secretary, & all. i can understand why you're frustrated."
"i-i'm not frustrated, katsuki," you softly claimed.
he quirked a brow, his lips upturning into a smirk. "oh? is that so?" you nodded your head. "then i'm gonna need some help so i'm not as frustrated, do you think you can help me with that, hm?" he was taunting you, joking with you. he must've somehow found out about your secret crush on him, & now he's using this as a lesson then he's going to fire you.
still, foolishly, you replied, "i c-can help you with whatever you need, sir." his gentle grip turned harsh as soon as you shut your mouth. he forced you to look up, & he had an unreadable expression.
"now it's sir? what happened? you were so cute when you said my name," he growled, licking his lips. you were speechless, at a lost for words. "go on, tell me."
"i just don't want you to be mad at me," you said, cheeks flushed red. he was so close, he was making a fool of you, & he wouldn't stop staring at you. you succumbed to the mental pressure he was putting on you. you ripped your face from his vice grip as you started to ramble, turning your face away from him, "i-i don't know who told you i had a-a crush on you or whatever, b-but i was never gonna act on it, i swear! i-"
you were cut off by a sudden sting from your scalp; katsuki's fingers found themselves entangled in your silky hair. you let out a yelp in pain, & you instinctively yelled, "hey! what's your prob-" your tone lowered into a mumble, "-lem?"
your heart was beating out of you chest, just a few centimeters away from your parted lips was katsuki. in all of his glory. you had your eyes glued on him, scared to look down slightly. it was already in your sight of view. in one hand was your head, in the other was his hard, throbbing cock. "(y/n), you said you were gonna help me, didn't you?"
"uh huh," you said mindlessly as you held your breath. wide-eyed, your gaze flashed towards it then it went back up to him. he had a shit-eating smirk as he rested his heavy member in the middle of your face.
he commanded, "lick it." his cock was the length of your red hot face. he twitched when you looked at him, rubbing your thighs together.
"wh-wha?"
"i said, lick it, (y/n)."
you hesitated; you didn't even know where to begin. his length was tantalizing, girthy. his tip was leaking beads of precum. his balls were swollen & heavy. was this still a joke?
suddenly, katsuki yanked your head back. with your mouth wide open -due to the shocking pain of your hair getting pulled- he slammed his dick down your throat. his hands were on both sides of your head, & he was in complete control. "i don't like repeating myself," he harshly said, forcing you to spit all over his length. your hands shot up to his hips, & you tried to push him away, though you didn't want to.
you weren't used to such a big man; he's the biggest you've ever been with. you gagged on him, & he let out a sigh of pleasure. your eyes crossed with tears streaming down your face, your mascara ruined. your lungs started to burn & you tried to beg for air, but it only came out as muffled moans. katsuki, feeling merciful, pulled his cock out of your throat, leaving his tip on your tongue.
you inhaled deep, only deep throat him again. he repeated that action -pulling himself then shoving himself back into your warm mouth- every time going more rough. he fucked your mouth, strings of precum & spit leaking onto your lap. you didn't even realize that katsuki released his grip on you until your shirt was torn off your body.
you let out a squeal that was muted by him. "fuck, (y/n)~" your boss moaned out, unbuttoning his own shirt. "you're such a good girl f' me." through your teary eyes, you saw katsuki throw his head back.
"need you," he said. " baby, i need your pussy right fuckin' now." katsuki took himself out of your mouth, leaving you with tongue hanging out of your mouth like an animal.
he made you stand up, then he crashed his lips onto your swollen, lipstick-smeared ones. sloppily, his tongue left nowhere untouched, & all you could do was moan as he overwhelmed you. his hands caressed every part of you. he groped your tits through your bra, he squeezed the fat of your ass through your skirt, & he rubbed your clit through your stained thong. your hips started to grind on his slender fingers. "katsuki~" you said in between kisses.
that was enough to make him feral (as if it weren't already). he let out a low growl as he turned you around. katsuki, with one hand, bent you over his desk, ass up in the air. he bunched your skirt around your waist, exposing you. katsuki needed you right in that moment, so he ripped a hole in your stockings & moved your string -that's supposed to be your undergarments- out of the way. he rubbed his tip along your folds; katsuki could almost salivate. after all this years of fantasizing & frustrations, here you were, underneath his bulking size, wet & ready for him.
"please use me, sir," you cried out in a hushed, yet urgent, voice. you were begging for him. i have to be dreaming, he thought. the moment he penetrates you, he's going to wake up, he's sure of it. you had your back arched, & you looked back at him, eyes half-lidded & cheeks flushed. "take out your frustrations."
he wanted to resist, he didn't want to wake up from this ecstasy dream. but he was just a man, & pure instincts took over.
katsuki lined up his cock with your entrance & snapped his hips forward, plunging himself ball-deep into your pussy. hands clasped over your mouth, you let out a scream. he was splitting you apart, your walls stretched out to accommodate his length & girth. your dynamight toy undersold him.
katsuki, in pure bliss, stood still for a second. he drank in everything that was happening, how this wasn't a dream anymore. you were so tight & desperate, sucking him in deeper. your juices stained your ripped stockings as it dripped down your thighs. slowly & shallow, he rocked his hips against you, grinding.
soon his grinding became primal. anything that has ever stressed him was put into his thrusts, & all you could do was lay there & take it. he pistoned in & out of you, hitting your g-spot every single time. you creamed, & came, & creamed again as he abused your sensitive spot. slaps & squelches bounced off the office walls. katsuki fucked you harder into the desk, trying to make you spasm all over his cock for the fifth time when-
brring! brring!
"what the fuck," he groaned. katuski's office phone broke the sounds of years of frustration. his harsh thrusts turned half-assed as he took a glance at the phone. "DEKU," the contact name read.
"goddamn it," muttered katsuki, "god fucking damn it." that's what he gets for bullying him all those years, i guess.
"y-you should a-answer that," you said, breathless. "it m-might be important."
"yeah, yeah. i know," katsuki said before slapping your ass. on the last ring, katsuki finally picked up the phone. you thought that, out of curtsy for deku, he would've pulled out or something, but no. he was still stretching you out & he showed no intentions on pulling out.
you, by accident, squeezed his cock, your body was trying to milk him. katsuki shot you a dirty smirk while he was on the phone. "what do you want?" his gruff voice demanded.
control yourself, (y/n), you thought to yourself, you're gonna get caught if you make a sound.
katsuki, on the other hand, had one mission: make you lose composure. honestly, it's a win-win. deku hangs up the phone, & everyone will know that you're his. katsuki pressed the phone between his ear & shoulder by tilting his head while his hands gripped your hips. hand-print bruises would be left in their wake, but you didn't care.
katsuki was hitting your cervix, & that was all you could focus on. you bit your lip until it was raw, your hands clasped so tight around your mouth until it was hard to breath, & you still were letting out whimpers.
deku said, "are we still going to have that meeting this afternoon?"
katsuki kept thrusting in & out of you, just a slightly bit more gentle (but not by much). "what?" he replied. he noticed your pussy tighten, squeezing him.
"kaachan, our meeting? this afternoon? at 2:30?"
"yeah, fuckin' cancel that," he told him. katsuki, with one hand still in your hip, grabbed a fist full of your hair & pulled you up. you stood with your back arched, dick impaling you, & your hands draped to your side. your mouth was fully open with your tongue hanging out. you were so close to the phone, any sound you make would be heard.
"you can't just cancel our meeting," deku sighed. "what are you doing that is more important?"
god, deku really knew how to get under katsuki's skin. just the tone of his voice made him made, so, naturally, he took it out on your poor body. faster, he pumped his cock in & out of you, your tits spilled out of your bra & your tits jiggled with each thrust. "please," you mouthed. you were so close to cumming, & you couldn't keep it in any longer. you were starting to see white stars clouding your vision.
"i'm busy fucking, okay?" katsuki yelled into the phone, eyes trained on you like a hawk.
"wh-what?" deku sputtered out, "what did you say?" you clenched, you were so close to getting caught by the number two pro hero.
"i said, i'm fuckin' busy," &, with that, he slammed the phone down to end the call. "you. fuckin. slut." he pounded you, & you let him use your tight pussy. his fat cock slammed in & out of you relentlessly. "i bet you wanted to get caught, huh? you just want to get caught?"
"n-no! i-i don't wanna!" you told him through hiccups.
"then what we're you trying to pull?" katsuki sneered, giving a light tug to your hair. your scalp was already aching terribly good. his hand dove in between your legs. his fingers started to rub your clit while he was still balls deep inside of your hole.
"n-nothing!" you cried followed by a breath of moans. "'suki, please~ it's too much." you began to see little white stars cloud your vision. it couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes, but you can't even remember how many times you've came. you were passed the point of overstimulation, whatever that is. "i-i-" you couldn't even get another sentence out, just muttering words & trying not to scream out in overwhelming pleasure.
"you're- you're-" katsuki mocked, and he finally let go of your -now- knotted hair. you collapsed on the desk, but his hand was still toying with your clit. your small hands gripped onto his forearm. you tried to push his hand away from your sensitive spot in hopes of getting a break. instead, he kept his position while his other hand winded back & smack! a red handprint gracing your ass. "you said i could use you, remember? thought you could handle, babe," sneered katsuki into your ear. "not only are you my slut, but you're also a dirty liar."
the vice grip he had on your hip released, then his arm snaked around your neck. your chin rested where his arm bent. with every thrust, he would flex his arms, & your throat was caught in between his thick forearm & bicep. "no, i'm not," you squeaked out. your thoughts, your words, everything would get interrupted by his constant choking.
you were still such a brat, defying him. it made it more interesting, katsuki would admit. it also made him rationalize that you deserved all the overstimulation, pounding, & bruising you've received-- & have yet to receive. "oh, you're not?"
"n-no," you droned into another moan.
"so you've never thought about this? about us? about me?"
"n-"
he tightened his muscles, constricting your airway. "tell. the. fuckin'. truth," he commanded, god, he wanted to humiliate you.
&, as if on cue, you gave in. "i-i've thought 'bout y-you," you told him through whimpers. you could feel your juices leak out of you.
"good girl," katsuki purred, playing with your clit more rough. pleasure jolted up your spine, the white stars turning into tunnel vision. katsuki felt your head drop slightly, you were losing focus. your sight was blurry from the mascara & tears. "stay with me, (y/n)."
"uh huh," mindlessly, you nodded. you didn't know if you could orgasm anymore, yet you still felt that all-too-familiar knot in your stomach. your clit was swollen, your g-spot abused, throat hurting from his cock & the pressure around it. you didn't care, you've never felt more safe. "pl-please c-cum with me," you begged.
katsuki twitched inside of you. he chuckled, "if you beg like that, i don't think i can hold back, babe."
the pet names sounded like music to your ears, & a sudden rush of motivation coursed through your veins. "katsuki~" you whined, voice high-pitched.
"(y/n)," he growled lowly. was it a warning? perhaps. you didn't care, he could punish you if he ever so pleased.
"'need your cum."
"sh-" he stuttered, &, just like that, the tables were turned. "shut up.
katsuki's cool composure was slipping. giddy & still driven by pleasure & motivation, you said, "please~ i need you."
"fuck, baby."
"i-i need you to fill me up."
katsuki tensed, his arms choking you. his thrusts were erratic & shallow. every sensation -you squeezing his cock, you wetness seeping out of your pussy, all of it- was amplified. he drove his hips forward, his tip stuffed inside your cervix. "t-take it," he huffed out.
not even a second later, jets of hot cum exploded inside of you. his warmth filled you, just as you asked. he painted your pussy white, & you came all over him for a final time, your pussy pulsating, milking him for every drop. the two of you stayed in that position, relaxed. he held you in his embrace, heavy breaths on your skin. katsuki pressed butterfly kisses along nape of your neck lazily. "so good f' me," he praised into your ear as he grazed your side with his fingertips. "so beautiful."
you hummed in respond. "you're my girl, aren't you?"
"only if you take me out to dinner after this," you joked, this was just a hookup because there's no way he would think of you as anything more, you figured.
"of course, whatever you want," he responded to your surprised. he pulled out of pussy, cum leaking out of your hole. he didn't care; no, he was proud. he sat you on his lap, forehead pressed against yours. katsuki, with his thumb, stroked your cheek & sang you sweet nothings. "you took me so well. i didn't go too hard, did i? you're mine," he would say.
"katsuki?"
"yes, princess?"
"why are you still hard?"
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oflorelei · 3 months
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My Problem is:
That it's a let down. Listen I am not mad or horrible dissapointed over that Radahn is there (although sigh i wished we would have gotten that Age of Abundance/Compassion man). I am not mad that he is apparently a puppets and that miquella is apparently the villain from the shadows. I'm mad that they hyped this DLC up so hard, using Miquella's character, which they know to be shrouded in mystery and HYPE, made it appear that we may have the chance to join him/get betrayed by him, made people belief he SPECIFALLY seeks out the tarnished or multiple tarnished at once (to help him?)- that he is the central figure of this DLC when he is not. And thats not an underestimation.
Miquella, most fearsome of the Empyreans, the 'father' of the Halligtree, beloved by near all, who "[...]wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men. (There is nothing more terrifying.)" - does not even have his own bossfight.
No, he is basically just a cape for a boss we already fought to a DLC that costs 40€. He is in the promotion arc, he is said to be a central figure, he is said to be the fearsome empyrean of all. One thing he isnt? Apparently worth the time of day.
I am ok with Miquella being turned into a villain, I am not ok with Miquella being turned into a joke.
There were so so many roads they could have taken with him, he was PROMISING in every regard.
Want to make him a Villain? Fine the reason can be:
=> Manipulation/Enchanting for people to love him (to ensure someone will always look out for him)
-not absolutely evil per say- and it makes sense that someone who is stuck in the body of a child might want to count on many people rather then one person to protect them = it is his weapon to wield affection
- still takes away free will, even consent to some degree
=> Formless mothers influence
- do i even need to explain this one lmao
- already thousands of theories before this DLC thought that miquella might have been negatively influenced by her- especially when so many things in this Game revolve around blood and the power of it
=> "for the greater good" ahh ending
- 'the means justify the end' mentality (maybe even allign with the manipulation and enchanting)
-would be a similar situation to ranni and could mirror it- not the best but also not horrible
=> St. Trina is Miquella's Radagon
- Miquella splitting slowly with the golden order & turning his back to the easier path & planning behind the shadows to change how Things have been? Yeah maybe St. Trina could have been to Miquella what Radagon was to Marika (a guard dog, keeping her checked (sry but i genuinely believe Radagon returned bc Marika started to stray)).
-could also have explored how marika had to deal with it & her relationship to her other self => player could maybe decide who they wished to serve
=> the curse drives mad
- being stuck in the body of a child when you are a grown adult mentally is pure eldritch horror imo, it is not only physically but chances are high it could cause deeper psychological issues
- when grief drove marika mad it can drive miquella mad to that despite everything he does, being so prodigal, does not help and helplessness of it all too
- bc no one can help and no one can understand him
- he is stuck in a body that is his, and yet its the body of a past him, something he should have outgrown, something that belongs to the past- and (IMO) he can not fight truly in his body, not even to defend himself- having to constantly rely on people for your protection when you are an incredible independent creature? Horrible
- while not the most climatic- would it be truly unthinkable that miquella maybe just..gave up? That it drove him mad with grief to realize he spends his life searching for a cure that might not even exist?
- again thats more then a 'what if' then realistic like the rest of the list but i just love the horror adult mind child body
Want to make him a good guy? Fine the reason can be:
=> He is described so. He knew that he would be the next god & took responsibility.
- Miquella created the Haligtree, feed by his OWN blood (which takes far longer and more energy then just using bodies) or all that are rejected by the golden order, he is compassionate & kind. He is protective and by gods above he does want to help, he does break away from the golden order when he realizes they are not what they seem
-With ranni not wanting to become the successor and Malenia cursed with the rot it only leaves Miquella open, he would have been aware of it
- He is already a 'big' brother, caring for malenia, caring for all who were considered Misfits such as the Albinauric & Misbegotten, providing a sanctuary and hope
- Miquella is described as kind, as compassionate someone who basically does wish to bring a change and is ready to self sacrifice for the better
There are many more but guys im so so tired and need to nap. In short: its incredible to me how you can make a Character that had potential for all possible sides (good, evil, inbetween) so bland, his arc and journey feel like white toastbread, his relationship to his beloved sister malenia seems fake, he doesnt appear to be an adult trapped in a body of a child but as simply put an idiot who is all about "me me me me" & then doesnt even get a bossfight.
Im not mad it was written, i am made there was zero thought or reasoning put behind it, when there were so so many options to make it good. Its sorta fascinating that somehow no one likes this ending, not the Radahn Fans, Nor the Miquella or Malenia Fans..idk man. Having feelings about this.
Also im really bummed we didnt get a cutscene were the tarnished touches Miquella's arm to travel like- man.
Also sorry for the grammar/spelling or maybe even logic errors i just needed to vent ngl
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slavghoul · 9 months
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From December issue of Billboard Magazine: Tobias on why the Grammy recognition matters & the band's "for your consideration" ad.
"When you’re working with art, you normally do not have a whole lot of the sort of moments that you have within sports. In sports, the win is very momentary: Either you win or you lose. Whereas an artistic career is usually over the course of time. Even if you’re somewhat successful as an artist, it’s very, very rarely happening overnight. When you’re nominated for awards, that’s the closest you can get [as an artist] to that “One second ago, I didn’t have it, and now I have it.” [Winning a Grammy] is one of the few moments I’ve had throughout my professional career where I really felt [how things] could have felt very different had I not achieved what happened 10 seconds ago. The rings on the water meant a lot of things professionally in terms of quote-unquote “being taken seriously. Radio, promoters — if you for some reason might be looking for a new label — all of a sudden, when you’re nominated, it’s a stamp of approval that will automatically make potential collaborators, partners, what have you, give you more chances. That is not to say that you can come in and be a dick. You just automatically get a bit more of a gravitas in maneuvering within the different aspects of your career in a way that you might not have, had you not had the stamp of approval of getting a Grammy nomination — or, even better, winning it. But as with most things, what you’re getting is a bag of tools. And you can choose not to use them. Over the course of many, many decades of artists getting awards, there are many that have gotten an accolade and then just faded into nothingness. Because it’s all about momentum. You should see it as a steppingstone. It’s part of your journey, not the end of it."
Kind reminder the Grammy Awards will take place on February 4, 2024 and Ghost is nominated in the Best Metal Performance category with their rendition of 'Phantom of The Opera.' 🫶
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ghostykapi · 1 month
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do you miss my name (said it between your breaths)
park jihyo & fem!reader
hi can i get an order of sapphics being sapphics and an extra shot of panic?
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it’s a saturday today
while any other saturday is just as good to you, this is a very special saturday
all because today you are going to indulge yourself and go to a sapphic event
you were nervous, the bones were rattling, the teeth chattering, your breathing coming in short breaths, and your right leg bouncing up and down.
it was saturday, and you are going to faint at the bare thought of potentially seeing a goddess tonight.
just a week ago you were excited, remembering the happy gasp you had made when you saw the event promotion through instagram. you had barely gotten the last slot, which meant to you it was a sign to finally to venture out more
when the days before started to come by, it starts to hit you bit by bit, well until today. you sitting down on your bed, overthinking what to even wear
it doesn’t help that your style is typically like a college student, baggy sweatpants and a hoddie as your style from day to day when clocking off work. your friends barely threw any parties or celebrations too, so the most presentable outfit was a pair of slacks, a button up white long sleeve, paired with your leather shoes.
oh you are so doomed
but today is saturday, and sana is always looking for people to makeover on saturdays for fun
“hm” sana opens her closet, ruffling through the selection of dresses she wears “what do you feel about dresses?”
“not a fan but also not against it?” you are now sitting on sana’s bed, only now your leg won’t stay still out of habit “i mean it would be nice if it was long and flowy”
sana is still ruffling, and is now opening her drawers nearby to look at for more options
“was there a theme?”
“no not really, they just said like it was like a get together and you can talk and wine and paint?”
“paint? oooohh aren’t you a lover girl—oh what do you feel about dresses that show your back—ah no wait, it’s painting and wine, not really the right dress”
“yeah i mean it’s happening at that that thai restaurant downtown. the one that’s selling like those really good milkteas that i only knew now”
“psh you are such a loser, i love you but those milkteas have been there since like 5 months ago when i took tzuyu on a date”
“don’t you mean when my sister got stood up and you sped your way there?”
“shut up” sana shushes you, simply throwing you her floral dress, your eyes questioning the the fact that it’s a backless dress. a pretty floral dress that can kill
you look back up at her, already knowing she won’t take no for an answer despite what she said earlier
so yeah it’s saturday, sana is dressing you up. making sure you look the prettiest in that event. her gushing and tzu’s voice over the facetime reassuring a bit of your worries
jihyo on the other hand, totally isn’t stressing out. her outfit planned, ironed out on her bed. her new boots, which momo took courtesy of wearing it out with nothing but hands and stairs, already ready by the door.
“aren’t you excited for tonight” momo says over breakfast, observing jihyo across the table “more excited you’ve ever been since your last gig”
“i know i’m kind of shaking” jihyo laughs, and if momo notices the shakiness of it, she doesn’t comment or acknowledge it “it’s been a while”
momo doesn’t really continue the topic, knowing how long since jihyo has indulged in this kind of stuff. 5 years of focusing on the band and work made jihyo uninterested in any kind of romantic relationship or even simple dates.
“mhm and sana says she wants to do a girls night, so i won’t be home, probably going to crash at nayeon’s place if she gets too drunk” momo tells her, already giving away the apartment for the night “if jeongyeon will even let them drink”
jihyo barely thinks that someone might come home with her tonight, she doesn’t want to bring someone home in the first place. so she only replies with a muffled ‘okay’ before munching down the rest of her breakfast
so simple saturday for jihyo, a little excited, a little worried, but honestly it’s wine and paint and yummy food. she isn’t too worried or anxious
so someone explain to her why when it hits five p.m., when she’s in front of the restaurant, the organizers are happily ushering her in, her breath gets stuck in her throat as she notices how much other sapphics are there already
she’s looking around, taking notes at every person she sees, even the ones who stare at her for too long that she’s sporting a blush on the tip of her ears
it’s early, jihyo knows that, but when you walk in before it hits six p.m., she feels like she’s being sucker punched over the table she’s sitting at
you’re barely any better, but god sana was having so much fun with your makeup that it leaves most of the attendees double taking on you. the backless floral dress is a bold choice, but having half of the venue gawking at how you look makes you feel shy
nervous, excited, anxious. those were what both of you were feeling and yet—
when you see her, your throat goes dry at how she looks. sporting in a simple fit tank top, a leather jacket, dark baggy jeans and killer boots, you contemplate if you want her or to be her
when she sees you, she thinks she’s been blessed by sappho herself. the dress is stunning yes, but the way you smile, the way your eyes keep her from looking away, your glow under the warm lights
this isn’t love at first sight
this is finally finding someone who you might be your soulmate
the organizers wisk you away though, towards the registration booth and jihyo has to blink the stars out of her eyes before nursing her wine again. her nerves finally showing her what it means to get curious, excited and anxious all at the same time
she keeps her eyes on you, the way you smile and chat with the registration team. the way your hair drapes over your shoulders, the way your laugh sounds like an angel’s call, the way your back flexes those subtle muscles that makes everyone know that you work out
she doesn’t look away even when you take your stub and claim your free wine, giggling at that tall organizer that’s too close to you. that pesky ugly (she isn’t jihyo is just jealous) one that is trying to charm you away
so jihyo does what future you thinks is adorable and future her thinks is so stupid
“i think you don’t need to tell this pretty lady the same pick up line you use and fail for every person you met tonight”
you turn around and face jihyo, who’s eyes are glaring at the organizer, who’s stuttering a response. her hands barely ghosting over your waist, claiming you away from them.
not that you mind anyway her hands stayed there the entire night
she barely lets the organizer have a coherent reply, as she leads you towards her table, her heart racing as you laugh at the organizer’s defeated face. her brain itching to get more of that kick, more of your happiness out loud
“the pick up line isn’t that bad” you tell jihyo, your voice having the power to make jihyo fall on her knees
“no you don’t understand it’s been, what 30 minutes of her trying the same pickup line? on over 29 other women? i need her to stop and you don’t deserve that” jihyo lets you sit down, your breath hitching at how much you catch yourself enjoying much of jihyo’s undivided attention to you
“yeah? well” you try to look at her eyes properly, you really do. it’s just when she tilts her head and lets some strands of hair cover her eyes, you fond yourself looking away, knowing that she now resembles a look of a puppy “thank you for saving me then”
“anything for a pretty girl” what is jihyo even saying? momo would point and laugh at her right now if she were here, but she isn’t. it’s you who’s here and it’s you who blushes and ducks her head
so you both finally talk, despite the fact that you both are a mess, on this beautiful saturday evening. the organizers give out painting materials and the items you both want to paint. her’s being an ash tray despite being a non-smoker and yours being a a small woman’s bust, just to add decor in your home.
conversation flows, sharing hobbies, favorite food, travel spots, respective jobs, recommended music genres, best recipes for drinks, niche interests.
even then jihyo notices when the paint gets on your arm, her hands moving before she can think
“here let me” she basically focused on only you, barely on the ash tray she chose to paint. her hands already gently wiping the paint on your arm and her body inching closer towards yours
it’s only then you realize that she’s so close to your face when she looks up, your breaths tangling in the air, your lips only a few inches apart
“mhm” so close she is so close, but much to your disappointment, one of the organizers comes by to check on your progress, effectively making jihyo pull away a respectable arm’s reach before reassuring that everything is going well bb
damn were you expecting a kiss?
you don’t know how to even explain it
still you find that her company is nice, her jokes are good and makes you laugh, that she’s attentive and helps you remember to paint carefully, her smile now finally engraved in your head.
so when the paint dries, you get some food, you can’t deny that you’re into her. the way she smiles at every delighted sound as you eat, the way she becomes ‘angry’ with every bite, the way she wipes away any food or sauce near your lips with her thumb, her eyes lingering a bit too long for you to deny it.
so dinner is also good, amazing even, because wow you just learned that the world is small, and your roommate is apparently childhood friends with her roommate. so the only thing keeping you both from meeting each other any time sooner is because she’s so busy
jihyo also find this whole experience amazing, because she’s managed to keep you giggly this entire time, she’s now a person closer to seeing you again and again, she can take you out for coffee every weekend when she has to drag momo to sana for their weekly hangouts.
oh and yeah the food gets paid by jihyo. even if you protest it goes in vain, and she teases you to simply return the favor next time.
“next time?” you playfully scoff, walking towards the exit with jihyo, your arms linked together, eyes once more on you in either with happiness or in envy “what makes you think of a next time”
she opens the door for you, and leads you out of the prying eyes of others, but it doesn’t matter. not when you both only have it on each other
“i just know sweet girl” jihyo is cocky, but she’ll make you love this side of her more and more you see her “i just know”
KA-BOOM
the sound of thunder redirects both of you to look up at the sky, the rain pouring down on the city. both of you completely forgetting to check the weather app before leaving
“i forgot my umbrella” you look up at the sky, the lightning flashes dancing around, indicating that rain is all night. maybe even until the morning
jihyo also looks up, the first drops of rain splattering down at the side walk in front of them. it doesn’t get any of you wet, but she looks at you, and notices your eyes dimming at the thought of rain and no umbrella
“i can drive you home” jihyo says without a thought
“oh you’re so sweet but i really don’t want to bother you. it’s late and i don’t want to overstep anything”
“nonsense” she’s already wrapping her jacket around you, you’re breath hitching at how looking up at her is changing your brain “i have to make sure this gorgeous girl gets home safe”
she runs off to her car across the street before you can even reply, gawking at how bold she is and how much you are enjoying it. one hand holding both of your bags with your art works inside, and the other holding the leather jacket to keep you warm.
you barely have to wait a minute on the entrance of the restaurant, when jihyo returns, the large clear umbrella enough to keep you dry. she helps you stand up, zip up the jacket and pats down your dress.
she’s already grabbing your things before you can argue, shushing you up and leading both of you towards her car, which she drives you home with all the songs you tell her sounds nice, and her hand holding yours over the gear stick.
“i had fun tonight” you guys arrive at your apartment building, your fantasy coming to an end “especially with you”
jihyo doesn’t want this dream to stop
so she does what her heart tells her to.
in the future, she tends to flush red at the remembrance that she leaned too far and has to tilt her head up, just to kiss you. her hands resting gently on your waist and your arms on top of her shoulders, leaving you both star struck
“is that ok?” jihyo is nervous when she pulls away and looks at you, eyes closed and lips parted, tempting her to go for another kiss
“mhm” she melts when you open your eyes and give her a smile, the one that punches her in the gut “can i get another one? preferably right now and another one on my couch”
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