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#getting a front row seat to see twice was
kimsohn · 23 hours
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Ꮺ CUTE
pairing . soobin x gn!reader about . 848 words, fluff note . for @obrigados based on this mb!! congratulations <3
the classroom is empty when you walk in, save for the music blasting through your earphones and the squeaking of your shoes against the floor. the window's left wide open, causing a hint of a breeze to flutter in through the gap, but it does everything but make you happy as you slide it down shut.
you eye the small pile of leaves that have made their way through the window gap. the universe seems to hate you today, you think, as you pick up the broom. cleaning duty on a friday is already miserable enough, but with the way the room has been left in an absolute mess after the end of exam season, you know your job today is tenfold harder.
you tackle the floor first, thankful that there are no annoying food crumbs to deal with, before moving onto the board. the chalkboard is dusty, and it takes several rounds of cleaning solution before the etches of the day have faded away. once a lively board filled with classwork and the small doodles in the corner you hope your teacher doesn't notice, the pristine condition of the green frame seems unfamiliar to you. you think that's a good sign though, because it always means you get to start over again on a blank slate the next day.
your last task of today, arguably the hardest, is sorting the desks. things you find on the floor or on the board are often predictable and easy to deal with. the seating arrangements, practically where the students live, are a different story though. you shudder as you clean out the first row, remembering a particularly horrible time when you found a moldy banana peel in the depths of the desk cubby. gradually, you work your way through each section, praying you won't find anything terrible, and as you reach your last desk, you thank god that the worst thing you've encountered so far is crumpled-up papers of chain messages.
you scan the inside of the desk before moving to the top, noticing the calculator in the corner. its presence is foreign, mainly because calculators are too expensive to be simply forgotten on a tabletop, but what intrigues you the most is the bright screen, indicating that it's clearly on. a device normally filled with math formulas and numbers that make your brain dizzy, it's surprising to see a beautiful flower on the tiny frame, made delicately with the selection of different buttons that produce unexpected, yet astonishing results.
you're too zoned into the tunes floating in your ears to hear the clearing of a throat behind you, once, twice, before it lands you a pat on the shoulder. you whirl around, calculator in hand, to see none other than choi soobin standing behind you, looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
"hey," he starts as you take your earphones out. "i think i forgot my calculator here, but seems like you've already found it."
too busy absorbed in your cleaning, you fail to realize that your crush of seven years sits in the exact seat you're standing in front of. to summarize, this situation is extremely awkward, and you feel yourself shriveling as he stares down at you, the clock ticking by agonizingly.
"i'm sorry!" you exclaim, offering the calculator to him. "i was on cleaning duty, and i happened to stumble upon it."
he accepts it gratefully, and the light brush of your fingers against his is enough to make your heart pound. he looks down at the illuminated screen, tracing the edges with his gaze until he pockets the device in his bag.
"so, you saw the flower, huh?" he says, zipping up his bag.
you want to protest, to remain oblivious, but you think he already seems to know the answer.
"yeah," you voice sheepishly, "i didn't mean to though, i swear. it was just already turned on, so..."
"it's okay. it's just something i do when i'm bored."
he turns to leave, swinging his bag over his shoulder, but your voice blurts out before u can stop it.
"it was cute, you know. the flower. you're crazy talented for being able to make it, even if you were bored."
"thanks," he says, turning his head back as he walks to the door. you watch pitifully as he nears closer to the wooden frame, already accepting another meaningless encounter going to waste with your crush, but his voice makes you reconsider everything you've believed in.
"not as cute as you though."
you meet his gaze as his head turns. he smiles, so softly you think you're imagining it, and just like the wind floating away, he's disappeared in thin air.
as you pick up your headphones, wrapping them around your neck, you notice a piece of paper on the desk next to you. your fingers pull it open subconsciously as if it was meant for you, and as you read its contents, you wonder if cleaning day isn't so bad after all.
i hang out by the park after school on fridays. meet me there :)
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jihyo-x · 4 months
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the best thing about 2023 was momo noticing me idc
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bellflower-goat · 1 year
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oh dear god mother of fuck
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ivymarquis · 1 month
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
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Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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König x Ballet dancer!Reader?
You passed through years of training. Being accepted into one of the famous ballet schools of Vienna was nothing to snooze about - and you were on track to become yet another nameless swan in the second row. With a shelve life of just about 10 years, your life was set to be a parade of mediocrity from the start. Without a rich sponsor to give you connections and without any of your professors looking at you twice, you exited college with a stable job in the background. Sometimes, accepting scraps being thrown at the main dancers, you knew your place - you ached for dance and beauty, and you got it. This is why a bouquet of blood-red roses sitting heavily in your hands still feels like a dream. The man in front of you is not a normal opera guest. His suit is tailored - not for the sake of showing off the price, but because this man is simply too huge for anything made in-store, no matter how expensive the store is. His suit is tailored professionally and yet, he still looks uncomfortable. A mountain of a man confined into the prison of tight fabric - you tilts your head to the side, wondering what is he doing here. He is wearing a black mask, which is normal for many patrons - especially the older ones, still afraid to die after what happened just a few years ago. You can only see his eyes and you're getting lost in the cold. It reminds you of a mountain snow. Of the white fabric of your dress - and suddenly, you almost feel like breaking your perfect posture. You don't look into the viewer's seats while you're dancing, but you can't shake the feeling that you recognize this heavy stare from somewhere. He was following your every movement while you were on the stage, not caring for the beauty of the front dancer and the elegant movements of your peers. You're painfully average in everything - but his attention never fails to get on you. He is giving you gruff, cut-out compliments. Something about your legs, your hips. Something dirty about the way you look in that tight tutu, and you almost gather the strength to slap him, but then he flashes his credit card, and it feels like a ticket out of mediocrity. Always the second last in the deep row, you never had any fans looking at you like this. With this amount of longing, of depravity. You start getting better roles after he started to show up. You're not sure why and how - he has money, that's for certain, but he definitely doesn't seem like the type to have connections in the industry. If you had to guess, you would see him as working in the military - but no one from Austrian army would have as much influence, not in your country. If you had to guess, this guy is dangerous, and you're almost terrified to see the dark red flash of flowers every time you exit backstage and see him. But, oh, he presses you against the walls and kisses you. But, oh, he can lift you up so easily and force you to grind on his knee in search for pleasure - you have stamina, all dancers have it, and he knows he can go for much longer than with a regular girl. Your affection is bought with compliments and euro bills stuck in your leotard like you're a cheap whore, but you almost feel like a French girl while he is holding you like this. He asks you about retirement. Tells you he would build you a dance studio in his house - something big, with space and perfect light. Give you all the attention you need. You almost feel yourself getting lost in his awkwardness. Little did you know he wasn't really asking.
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wonuwonder · 4 months
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toast rule — jeon wonwoo (m)
content: wonwoo smut, fem reader x wonwoo, semi-public sex (bathroom), unprotected sex (pls wrap it), non relationship, anything else lmk!! 1.7k words
an: minors dni. not proof read! kinda rushed it so will be correcting mistakes later, lowercase intended. english is not my first language.
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“you know there’s a saying, that if you avoid eye contact during a toast you’ll have bad sex for seven years” you say jokingly, you had gone out to some fancy restaurant for Soonyoung’s birthday, your best friend. some of your friends were mutual, and they were here as well as his own friends, which you knew a couple of them.
one of his friends, whom you’d always had seem to have some sort of tension with, Wonwoo; stares directly at you from across the table, smirks and, leans closer, extending his glass of wine to the middle of the table, and says;
“guess I better do it right” he locks his eyes with yours, and toasts your glasses together while the others do the same, you both stare directly at each other while taking a sip, and when you finish, he adds “cheers” his gaze going from your eyes to your red lips, and so on.
for the rest of the night, you become more aware of his presence, exchanging glances while pretending to pay attention to the conversation going on at the table. you catch him staring at you a couple of times, and he catches you doing the same, smirking everytime he does.
after a while, you feel something slightly brushing your leg, you quickly dismiss it, but then you feel it again, and again, shifting in your seat, you look under the table while trying not to move around so much, and you notice it wasn’t something, but someone doing it. you look up, and find him again, smirking at you, biting his lower lip as if trying to hold in his laugh, you glare back at him, and then look around the table to see if anyone had noticed you two bickering, but as you both were the last on each row at the table, no one was really paying attention.
“i’ll be back in a sec” you say to Seokmin, who was sitting next to you, all flustered, you glare at him again and get up from the table, heading towards the bathroom.
you look at yourself in the mirror and fix your hair, hell, you looked hot, wearing a little black dress that hug your curves perfectly, with just the perfect amount of cleavage, you’re about to put your red lipstick on when you see Wonwoo, entering the bathroom, quickly finding your gaze in the mirror.
“hey, what are you doing here?“ you ask as he gets to you, turning around, he’s standing in front of you —towering over you.
“looking for you, i got bored at the table” he gets closer, and brushes a strand of hair out of your face and rests his hand on your jaw, he leans towards your now exposed ear and says “wasn’t fun anymore if you weren’t there to look at” he continues, lifting your chin up, you can’t help but stare at his lips and his piercing onyx like eyes, as he does the same to you
“you weren’t so bad to look at yourself either” you say back playfully, intertwining your arms around his neck.
he grabs you by the hips and tugs you against him, making you whimper under his touch, already turned on by the sudden interaction, he leans closer, pushing you against the counter, while pressing his hips against yours, he brushes the hair out of your neck, but before kissing you he asks “may i?”, you nod, giving him the confirmation that you were as needy as he was, and honestly, you’d been wanting this since the night started.
he kisses your neck sofly, leaving a trail of kisses from the back of your ear, all the way to your clavicle.
“wonwoo…” you say lowering your voice, and he stops to look at you again, you heard people walking towards the bathroom, “anyone could walk in here any moment” he doesn’t think twice as he’s already pulling you towards the last stall in the bathroom, locking the door behind him just in time as people come inside the bathroom.
he stares back at your frame, all pressed up in that tiny little black dress you had decided to wear for tonight, that made your legs look endless, and hugged every inch of your body tight, which had been driving him crazy the minute he saw you walk into the restaurant.
“fuck it” he groans under his breath, and grabs your face kissing you hungrily, pressing you against the tiny wall, the kiss getting hotter by the second, he lowers his hands to your waist gripping you even tighter against him, you huff out a moan in response, and he quickly covers your mouth with his hand, reminding you you weren’t alone, your eyes go wide, and he grins at you, before he continues kissing you, your hands roaming all over his toned body.
his shoulders looked so wide in that white shirt that had been hugging his muscles too tight, distracting you all night. your fingers quickly start to unbotton it.
“can’t wait huh princess?” he says pulling back from attacking your neck with kisses, —that were definitely going to leave marks—
“wonwoo please touch me” you say, voice all breathy from the heat, he wastes no time doing so and pushes your dress up to your waist, revealing the tiny red lace thong you had wore tonight, he groans when he sees it, putting it to the side for easy access, his fingers dipping in your arousal, spreading all over your pussy, massaging your clit, making you gasp, one of your hands leaving his neck to cover your mouth, just in time for when he adds one finger.
“you like that baby?” he says to your ear and all you can do is nod, overwhelmed by all the pleasure, he adds another one and curls then inside of you while continuing to play with your clit with his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.
“fuck won-“ you manage to say, he looks at you with his darkened eyes.
your hands reach for his pants, and you unbuckle his belt almost desperately, his erection pressing hard against the fabric, you start stroking his bulge from outside his boxers, his cock painfully hard by now and he hitches a breath the moment you do.
“i need you, right now” you demand and his hand leaves your pussy, shutting your mouth with his fingers, making you taste yourself and you take his fingers gracefully, coating them with your tounge.
“i need you to keep quiet baby” he whispers as he gets his boxers down his legs along with his pants, his throbbing cock sprinting against his lower abdomen, and fuck it was huge.
you reach for it almost instantly, stroking him delightfully, his head tipping back and biting his lower lip to keep quiet.
he stares back at your pleading eyes and you say “please fuck me won” your words coming out like music to his ears, he grabs one of your legs and hoists it up behind his waist, making space for him to fit between your legs, squeezing his forearm tightly to steady yourself, he lines up against your core, his cock already leaking with pre cum, and he sinks into you harshly, both of you looking down to where your bodies connect, your forehead falling against his shoulder biting your lips to keep shut. he slowly puls out and sinks back in, picking up the pace, he starts pounding on you, you both already a mess while trying to make as less noise as possible, his mouth finds yours again, kissing you passionately, you groan against his mouth as he finds your favorite spot, you can’t hold much longer.
“won… m’gonna” you start and he grips your hip tightly with his free hand, squeezing your thigh with the other.
“me too”, he thrusts into you one more time and you both come undone, you bite his shoulder trying not to scream, and he grabs your other leg, making you wrap yourself around his waist to sit on the toilet lid, straddling him, as he was still inside you, you both ride out your highs.
he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair, resting your cheeck on top of his head, and you stay like that for a bit, as his cum drips out of your pussy. after he pulls out, he starts to clean you up, and you both dress yourselves as better as possible to look like nothing happened.
after you’re done, you try to figure out if there’s someone still in the bathroom, pressing your ear against the tiny door, wonwoo wasting no time in looking at the way your ass cheeks looked pressed in the fabric of your dress.
“you think someone heard us?” you say, while still trying to hear if there was someone else in the bathroom, he grips your ass tightly with one of his hands, making you turn around to look at him.
“probably…” he starts, “not that i care” he says and starts kissing you again, but you shut down the kiss before it starts getting heated again.
“won we need to go back, they’re probably wondering where the hell we went” you mutter out, he steals a kiss from you again, “i’ll go see if there’s anyone here and in the hallway, so you can escape first” you leave the stall trying to look as normal as possible, while fixing your dress and examine each stall, luckily for you, you were alone, but you open the door of the bathroom, and find minghao leaving the men’s bathroom.
“hey, y/n, you okay?” he asks.
“yes! just, um lady problems” you reply, and his eyes squint, not buying any of it obviously,
“… okay, see you at the table” he says back grinning at you, and when he turns to walk away, you go inside the bathroom to free wonwoo from the stall, “you can leave now, quickly” you say and he gets out, “when you get back to the table, say you were outside smoking or something, minghao was in the bathroom, so you can’t say that” you explain and he nods, “alright, alright” you walk towards the door together, but before opening it, he turns around and says, to your ear.
“next time we do this, i want to hear every little sound from you” he bites his lips and grabs the door handle.
“what makes you think there will be a next time?” you bite back.
“the way you loved my cock” he winks at you before leaving the bathroom, with the biggest smirk on his face.
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an: notes comments or reblogs are appreciated, just wanna read what you think😭
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teatitty · 3 months
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We know the Ace Attorney Judge isn't the only Judge in that universe because we do see his little brother like twice so I propose that our Judge just plays favouritism. He has certain attorney's and prosecutor's that he adores and makes the conscious decision to oversee every single case involving his special little guys. Also he's heavily invested in whatever the fuck Wrightworth and Klapollo have going on so obviously he has to get a front row seat to All Of That
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prosciuttulipa · 2 months
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Toji, Nanami, & Sukuna with an s/o who is obsessed with their arms like biceps and veins 😊😊 sfw plz!!!!!!
Armed with Affection!
JJK men with an arm-obsessed s/o
content: gn reader x jjk men; fluffy and sfw, just as the anon ordered!
a/n: something nice and easy for me to write, to wind down after a stressful day!
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Toji Fushiguro who can't help but smirk when he catches you admiring his arms. He gets it, the ladies love a man who looks like he can bench press twice his weight. And he can, easily. Do you want a demonstration?
He ends up wearing a lot of short-sleeved tops, so that you can cop a feel whenever you want. If you decide to go to the gym with him, it's suddenly Arm Day on his schedule, and you get a front row seat to his biceps and veins. He'll incorporate you into his workout as well, complaining that the weights are boring, and promptly lifting you up into his arms. "Hardly weigh a thing, doll," he'll tighten his grip on you so you can feel his muscles tense, grinning at your giggle. "So? How many sets should I keep you in my arms for?"
Nanami Kento who either does not understand the fixation with his arms, or simply does not care. Being physically adept comes with the territory as a jujutsu sorcerer, a consequence of his job. It's nothing more than maintenance.
That being said, his priority is always to please you. He always rolls up his sleeves when he comes home from work, but now he makes sure to do it when you're around to watch. You want photos of his arms? He obliges, no questions asked, and even makes sure the lighting is nice so you can catch all the details. If you come up to him while he's doing something else, he'll silently offer you his hand to fiddle with. Why else would he have two of them, if not to hold yours whenever you want?
Ryomen Sukuna who is completely smug when you reveal that you like his arms. Of course you do. And what's better than two arms? Four. Once again, he proves himself to be better than everyone else in the physique department.
He won't go out of his way to do manual labour, just so you can watch his arms in action—chores are for servants and grunts. However, he will oblige you by allowing you to sit in his lap, all four of his arms wrapped around you. He watches in mild amusement as you trace the markings on his skin, flexing his muscles so they tighten around you, a reminder that you are his. He supposes that it is rather appealing, seeing you completely engulfed in his embrace. Perhaps he will entertain this fixation of yours more often.
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cultrise · 16 days
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·.⌇ BULLET CATCHER. BOOTHILL
✶ SYNOPSIS boothill decides you’re too weak to join him on his mission. his solution? teach you how to fight.
✶ CONTENTS suggestive content, lots of tension, shy boothill??, mentions of blood, not much description abt the reader just her being shorter than him (istg this man is insanely tall), all curse words changed by his synesthesia beacon are in italics, i want him so bad help. ᵎᵎ wc 1.6k
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your body hits the floor with a thud, pain resonating from your abdomen all the way to your skull. you try to get up, palms slipping on the cold surface.
thud!
you groan as you hit the floor again, cursing under your breath. how did he even manage to hit you that time?
the sounds of leather boots get near, steps slow and almost agonising. a slow, metallic clap fills the silence of the room.
“good job! ya’ managed to last 2 minutes. say, if i warn ya’ next time, will ya’ finally be able t’dodge my attacks?” you feel your temple pulse with anger as boothill’s voice continues to keep pressing on your nerves.
“you misled me! you looked like you were going to block my punch and you spun and kicked me! how’s that any fair?” you protested, looking up at the grinning man in front of you. boothill bends down as if talking to a child.
“fightin’ ain’t fair, sweetheart. y’can’t expect a cutie t'play fair” his nose scrunches at the unwanted voice filter. god, he was infuriating. for 2 hours you had repeatedly failed to land any blows while he took every chance to knock you down and irritate you. you were sure to have bruises all over you.
a metallic hand extends in front of you, ever so gentlemanly. you scoff at him, earning a quick smirk. the moment your palm touches his cold one, boothill expertly helps you up, with no effort. a fleeting hint of arousal washes over you at the evident difference in physical power. you quickly brush away the thought.
"now, should i kick your lovely face again?" boothill grins, flashing his white teeth at you. you ponder surprise-kicking his face in.
"keep talking like that. see what good it does you" you threaten. boothill's body leans back on the wall, watching you with an amused stare. you take note of the way his eyes peek from under the tip of his hat, scanning you intently.
"oh? got any fantasies about what to do to me, princess? do tell" he crosses his arms, leaning forward, beckoning you. you knew well enough how empty your threat sounded to him. you intended to do anything to uphold it, even if it meant spending the entire night locked up in that room with him. you couldn't just let him lord his combat skills over your head.
"plenty. something along the lines of ripping your arm and beating you to death with it" you snarl. boothill erupts in wild laughter, almost losing his balance. a vein on your temple starts pulsating with anger. you had to win one sparring match. you absolutely had to wipe that grin off his face.
"how charming! didn' know y'got off to that. i'd like to see that" he cocks up a brow teasingly, watching your own furrow. the sole implication of it makes your mind run wild.. no, you have to concentrate on kicking his ass!
"oh, don't worry! i'll save you front-row seats" you drily indulge him. boothill snorts, walking in your direction. he circles you twice, seemingly analysing whether you have what it takes to carry out such a threat. he stops behind you, bending in to whisper into your ear.
"y'gonna stop daydreaming and put y'r plan in action instead?"
with swift motion you reach your right hand back, grabbing the gun in his holster and turning, pointing it at him. boothill smirks at your bold move but soon enough shakes his head in disapproval. had you forgotten he was a cyborg? how foolish.
within seconds his left index and middle finger take the shape of a gun barrel and he points it back at you without hesitation. the barrel heats and, taking notice of it, you block his aim by hitting his hand with the blunt side of the gun’s magazine. in doing so, the bullet fires into the nearby table and boothill jumps back, taking a look at the dent in his wrist.
"lovely. y'gotta pay for that" he looks up at you, only to notice you trying to create a makeshift distraction from some of the items in the room. he chuckles, eyeing down your movements "now we're talking!"
the sparring goes on for quite a while, with bullets and objects being thrown all over the place. the sounds of clanking metal and breaths of effort go on for a while.. until he has you cornered.
you curse under your breath once mroe. you had been doing so well.. just how did he manage to steal his gun back? boothill approaches, kicking the gun to the other end of the room with the tip of his boot, out of your reach.
a cocky smile overtakes his features, his gun still pointed at you as he nears. you look like cornered prey to him, unable to escape, proving him right. you count your escape options, though it doesn't seem like it'd change much. you had to think of something. and fast.
"y'done?" boothill asks plainly, getting closer to you and pressing his gun between your ribs. he won't fire it, you know that much. who would he agonise then? but it seems like there's no way out. in a real situation, you'd be dead where you stand, bleeding out from a gunshot wound to your side.
"this was cute an' all, but it proved my point. you'd be useless as my partner" his gun retracts, merging back into two steel fingers as he looks down at you. you, on the other hand, are seething, close to seeing red. your mind goes haywire trying to find options to gain the upper hand.
"you think you've won? i can still fight back" you press, boothill sighing.
"ya' could, but what difference would it make? i could pull out my gun again and jus—"
your hands grab his shoulders, making him stall before you tiptoe and hit your forehead against his nose as hard as you can. he stumbles, completely taken aback, hand flying to his now bloody nose.
you seize the chance to flee, reaching for your revolver and approaching him once more, you push it to his temple and ask, "y'done?" mimicking his tone.
boothill's mouth is agape, eyes repeatedly shutting and closing, as to evade the pain. he tries to straighten his back, but he gets reminded of the position he's put in as you press the tip of the barrel to his head.
he scoffs, then grins and fully starts laughing at the realisation "hug me, that was good!.. ow!.. that really hurt, you cutie!" he drags a finger, under his nostril, cleaning himself up.
"you got any more witty comments?" you attach one hand to your hip looking down at him. your eyes glisten with pride as he raises his arms up in defence.
"i must admit. ya' had me there. y'win" he complies before you jump up, ecstatic.
"fuck YES! fuck you, you son of a bitch!" you yell at him, earning only a laugh back. he decides to let you enjoy it. after all, you did get him. and not only that, you got him good.
"yeah yeah... i went easy on you and let you win" he glances at you, waiting for a reaction.
"or maybe i had you at gunpoint. face it, i won fair and square."
"or maybe i just like being held at gunpoint but hot women" he towers over you, grinning. you roll your eyes, shrugging.
"whatever, make up any excuse you want. i still got your ass" you press a finger to his hard chest "not to mention, you're bleeding"
"y'really didn' have to hit that hard... you probably broke my beautiful nose" he presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose, looking for any bumps that would indicate broken bones. "now y're gonna have to kiss it better" he shrugs, closing his eyes with a small smirk.
when his eyes open, however, he notices your face getting nearer to his. his mouth falls open, eyes instantly going to your lips. was that all it took? a simple joke to get you to kiss him? boothill's throat goes dry, eyelids closing again.
click!
he opens them for a second time, startled. you look up at him, amused, as he looks to his side. you had leaned over to put his gun back into the holster which hung off his waist. he feels his cheeks heat.
"not in your wildest, wettest dreams" you retort his proposal, heading for the door. boothill's brain spins. what was that reaction?
his eyes shift to the door as you turn on your heels to face him again "oh, i almost forgot. i'll see you on our mission tomorrow. maybe get your nose fixed before that?" you snort before leaving the room.
boothill is entranced, walking over to the table and placing his hat down, contemplating. he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down, but the image of you getting closer replays in his head. he remembers the exact curve of your lips, how soft and inviting they looked, your beautiful eyes, the proud look in your eyes when you finally won against him and when you cursed him down...
"system: overheat!" his cyborg body beeps.
"great!" boothill slams a fist on the table, putting a dent in it before he turns and leans on it, placing his palm over his mouth. it was insanely frustrating how he wasn't allowed to curse out loud. no, that wasn’t it.
boothill's face goes red. he runs an impatient hand through his hair, sighing. what the fuck was wrong with him? his body beeps again, signalling more overheating of his mechanical components. he knew he was screwed.
the only thing replaying in his mind is you. boothill's palms and fingers grip the ends of the table.
"what in the world am i g'nna do tomorrow?..."
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© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.
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Text
This isn't Your Fault (First Date)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: She finally got what she’d been wanting all week, she had you right here just like she had wanted and now she was blowing it.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 5.3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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Tara was tapping her pen on her notebook as she waited for class to start. They were a few weeks into the semester and had been in the city for about a month. Tara was studying film like Mindy; they were taking all the same classes but oddly they only shared Video Editing 1. Tara liked to pretend that was her favorite class, it was Mindy’s favorite class. It would usually be her favorite because they were actually editing videos, cutting together clips and creating trailers, interviews, and Mindy was there.
That wasn’t her favorite though. Her favorite class was this one, Film History. Sure, it was one of her only classes where she actually needed to take notes and write papers for but for over an hour twice a week she got to sit in class and just talk about movies. She got to sit there and hear about the history of some of the best and most influential films, the movies that paved the way and inspired everything they get now. They also got to watch some movies. She had this class twice a week, the first day was a lecture, learning about the history of movies and the influence some have had on the entire industry. The second class though, that was the one where they just got to watch a movie. They were going through the history of movies, so they started with the very beginning, silent films. All of that was great but the real reason, not that she’d every admit it, the real reason this was her favorite class was because of you.
And as if she summoned you, you walked through the doors. Tara paused her tapping of the pen, her breath catching as she watched you make your way to your seat. You sat in the row in front of her, a couple chairs down. It gave Tara the perfect vantage to stare at you, in a non-creepy way. It was always the same, you came into class, headphones on and sat in the same spot. She didn’t know what you were listening to, but she admired you, seeing how whatever it was let you escape and ignore everything around you. You kept the headphones on right up until the very last second, as soon as the professor came in though, you slipped them off, keeping them rested around your neck.
Tara noticed you the very first day of class. That was also the first day she ever talked to you. The professor made them do those stupid ice breakers all teachers insist on for some reason. The professor gave them fifteen minutes to walk around and get to know each other, saying to introduce themselves and tell each other their major, and their favorite movie. To prove everyone was participating the professor would go through and ask each of them to share the other person’s favorite movie. Tara dreaded ice breakers, even before Ghostface, when everyone separated, she saw you slumped in your seat, seeming to hate ice breakers just as much. Despite her reservations Tara decided to make the first move, she would force herself to talk to the cute girl, the two of you clearly hated ice breakers, mutually shared hatred of something made for great bonding.
“Hey,” Tara said shyly, glancing around the room seeing everyone else effortlessly make conversation with each other. “I’m Tara.”
“Hi,” you said quietly, shyly glancing at Tara. “I’m Y/N,” you reached across, offering your left hand.
Tara clenched her hands, staring down at yours hanging in the air for what felt like an eternity. She knew it was only mere seconds considering you weren’t looking at her like she was crazy. Tara hesitantly lifted her hand to grip yours. Your eyes flicked down, lingering on the scar on the back of her hand. Tara almost pulled her hand away, this was a bad idea, you were going to ask her about it, or you already knew about Woodsboro, and you were going to connect who exactly Tara was, this was a bad idea, and she never should have come up to talk to you. You didn’t do anything though, you reached out the rest of the way, meeting her hand and giving it a soft shake.
“Nice to meet you,” you said, smiling as you pulled your hand away. “I’m an audio major.”
“Now the headphones make sense,” Tara mumbled. You instantly blushed reaching up to toy with the headphones still resting around your neck. Tara internally slapped herself for revealing she’d been watching you. “I’m a film major.”
“So, we’re opposites.”
Tara giggled, she felt her face get hot, it had been a long time since someone made her truly giggle. “Looks that way. What’s your favorite movie?”
“Jurassic Park.”
“Really?” Tara didn’t usually question people when they told her their favorite movie, well she didn’t usually do it to their face but now knowing you were an audio major she couldn’t help show her surprise, she was imaging something more music related.
“It’s a classic,” you laughed. “Plus, the theme is incredible.” You closed your eyes, letting out a small sigh as you clearly thought about the main theme of Jurassic Park. “I mean when they’re driving up to those gates, that theme makes you feel it all, the excitement, the wonder, the magic.” You chuckled. “Sorry, what’s your favorite?”
Tara shook her head; she was too busy smiling as she listened to you talk about the theme of Jurassic Park. “The Babadook.”
“That’s a horror movie, right?”
Tara’s eyes widened. “You’ve never seen it?”
You shook your head and had your mouth open about to say something but then the professor clapped their hands, ushering everyone back to their seats. Tara plopped back down in her chair with a pout, she had just gotten to talk to a cute girl and was about to be given the chance to ramble about her favorite movie. Her only conclusion for the first day of class, professors were evil.
Tara made small conversation with you here and there after that day. She wanted to get to know you more but after everything that happened, she couldn’t trust anyone. You were nice, you were so nice, always offered Tara a shy smile or a small wave. Amber was also nice, then she stabbed Tara and attempted to kill her, her sister, and all their friends. Nice didn’t mean anything. No one could be trusted. Luckily for Tara that, as nice as you were, you were also shy, so you never went out of the way to talk to Tara unless you specifically had to, like that first day of class.
Just listening to you in class when the professor called on you or talking to you while working on a paper together, Tara learned so much. She learned that you loved movies as much as her. Where Tara liked the story and the deeper meaning behind movies, specifically horror movies, you loved the music. Despite being shy, the most you talked was when the musical score of a movie was brought up. Tara never thought much about how significant music was to movies, but she soon came to realize you were right. Music was that part of the move that most people didn’t notice because even if it was there throughout the whole movie, it was just so easy to ignore, it was always just there but if you removed the music from a move, the movie just wasn’t the same. The music, the sound, all of it created the movie. Most movies were nowhere close to amazing when the music was removed.
Tara was sitting on her phone, scrolling through Instagram. She had found yours and it was private but Tara, feeling bold, requested to follow. It was only an hour later when you accepted, requesting to follow her in return. Tara allowed it, it wasn’t like she posted much anyway. Ever since you accepted her request though she’d been scrolling through your posts. You also didn’t seem to post a lot, everything you did post though was related to music, movies, or videogames. Tara went through to see who you were following, and it was pretty much the same thing, actors, movies, and videogames.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Mindy shouted, snapping Tara out of her mindless scrolling of your profile. She looked up to see Mindy storming in behind Anika who was in the middle of rolling her eyes. Chad was behind them, quietly closing the door, clearly trying to stay out of whatever was going on.
“It’s not a big deal!” Anika sighed, plopping down on a chair.
“Not a big deal! Do you hear this?” Mindy looked at Tara who just raised an eyebrow which Mindy ignored. “Can you believe this?” Mindy looked up. Tara followed her gaze to see Sam standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, she too had a confused expression.
“We’re doing a project together,” Anika raised her hands in defense.
“A project? A project? A project?”
“Yes!”
“On what, how to commit murder?”
“What is happening?” Sam asked.
“Did she ask about me or any of us?” Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes at her girlfriend, and ignoring Sam’s question.
“No! She’s never once asked about you.”
Mindy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Oh, really? Then why did she have that scared look when I came in? Why did she leave so abruptly? Seems suspicious.”
“You were glaring at her!” Anika shot to her feet. “You stormed into the library and instantly started glaring at her.”
“How do you know she can be trusted? How well do you even know her? You said you haven’t been friends long.”
“We met at the beginning of the semester. We share a class. I met her before any of you,” Anika spun around looking at everyone.
“Who is this about?” Sam interjected again.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” Mindy said, narrowing her eyes even more at Anika.
Tara perked up at hearing your name. She slowly sat down her phone and focused more on whatever was going on. It seemed that Anika knew you and now Mindy was arguing with her about you for some reason.
“She shares a class with Anika,” Mindy continued. “She’s also in one of mine.” She looked at Sam as if that provided all the answers in the world. Sam just stood there with wide eyes, even more confused than before. “Don’t you find that suspicious?” Mindy raised her hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. “We aren’t in the same major,” Mindy gestured between herself and Anika.
“So?” Anika snapped. “A lot of majors overlap. We’re all in very similar majors. I have a few classes with you and Tara, you, and Tara share only one class despite having the exact same major. There’s a guy in my theater class who’s an engineer major because he just loves performing!”
“She’s right,” Chad said, coming up from behind Sam, snacking on a bag of chips. “I’m taking Art History, and it has absolutely nothing to do with my major or football.”
Mindy glared at her brother but didn’t say anything, she kept her arms crossed and jaw clenched but relaxed her shoulders slightly. “Babe,” Anika said, stepping forward to uncross Mindy’s arms. “She’s really nice, she’s the only reason I’m passing, she’s also my best friend. There is no ulterior motive. She isn’t some weirdo trying to get close to me to get close to you so she can murder you all.”
“But how do you-” Mindy started to ask.
“Because we met the first day and have talked ever since,” Anika cut her off. “Also, I’m pretty sure after today she’s never going to want to be around you again.”
Tara tuned out the rest of the conversation after that. You were friends with Anika. You were best friends with Anika. Mindy had met Anika early in the semester at a frat party and had been together ever since. Sam had been suspicious of Anika at first, but everyone quickly learned Anika was really sweet and just the nicest person in the world. Anika was the first person everyone unanimously approved of, and that Sam allowed up to the apartment, even when she wasn’t home. If Anika vouched for you then Tara didn’t see the harm in going after what she wanted.
Everyday Tara’s crush for you grew more and more. You were nice, you were pretty, you liked movies, and you treated Tara like a normal person. Most of the time school wasn’t to bad but Tara would walk to class or be sitting there waiting for class to start and catch whispers of Ghostface or Woodsboro. Even if no one talked to her directly, they all knew exactly who she was, and it was always a topic of discussion. Not with you though, you never asked about her past. You saw her scar that first day and you still never asked about it. Tara assumed you knew but it was hard to tell, you never looked at her differently, you never asked about her sister or friends. If a topic was going to lead to what happened last year you changed the subject so easily Tara never realized what you had done until after she had already forgotten she was getting anxious.
That night Tara decided she would ask you. The next day after class she would just walk up to you and ask you out. If you said no, then Tara would just go back to the normal and never speak to you again. She didn’t think you’d say no. She hoped you wouldn’t say no.
The next day rolled around; Tara got there extra early due to her nerves even if she didn’t plan on doing anything until after class. Like clockwork you walked into the room, Tara offered you a small smile which you shyly returned and then you went to your seat, headphones on until the professor came in. The class was normal, they were discussing the film they had watched the previous week before getting into this week’s topic. Tara was being a good student, diligently taking notes when class ended. She was scribbling the last remainder of her notes, when she looked up and saw you were already gone.
The rest of the day and the day after Tara spent pouting. No one noticed Tara’s sour mood though. She should have probably been concerned with whether they were completely missing the fact that Tara was in a bad mood or were so used to Tara being unhappy that they just ignored it now. Tara could only focus on you though. Instead of working on any of her schoolwork or studying for any of her other classes, she decided to formulate a plan on how she’d corner you after class, she went over exactly what she would say to you, and she attempted to prepare a response for any possible reaction from you.
Finally, the second day of class came. Tara sat through the entire class, her eyes darting from the movie playing in front of her to you. You were sitting there completely engulfed by the movie. Tara tried to pay attention, she knew it was directed by Stephen Spielberg and she thought the name of it was Duel or something like that. She didn’t really care, there was a dude driving in a car and there was a truck. Tara lost interest instantly, instead spending all her time thinking about you and asking you out finally.
Before she knew it class came to an end and Tara shot up from her desk and ran out the door. She leaned against the wall next to the door so she could get you as soon as you stepped foot out of the room. Which is exactly what she did. You stepped out of the room, headphones already back on your head and Tara stepped directly into your path. You almost turned right into her but as soon as your eyes registered someone was in front of you, you jumped.
“Sorry,” Tara said quickly, taking a step back. In all her planning Tara never considered ambushing you after class might scare you and come across as creepy.
“It’s okay,” you said, giving her a small smile as you slipped your headphones back around your neck. “How’d you like the movie?”
Tara’s eyes widened, she also forgot that ambushing you after the second class of the week meant that you might ask her about the movie you both just watched, damn it, she really should have paid attention. “It-it-it was good,” Tara nodded trying to sound more convincing.
You tilted your head slightly, Tara found it adorable. “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”
Tara laughed awkwardly. “Oh, you know, the part… with the… truck.” Tara closed her eyes and suppressed a groan, all her planning thrown out the window, she was blowing it right now.
“Right, that part was good.” When Tara opened her eyes again you were giving her a slight smirk.
You tilted your head again, eyebrows raised as you looked at Tara. “Oh! Right!” Tara shouted a little louder than she meant to, making a few students passing them look at her weird. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Tara stood there, staring at you. You continued to stare at her until you started to furrow your brow. “You, okay?”
Tara wanted to smack herself. She finally got what she’d been wanting all week, she had you right here just like she had wanted and now she was blowing it. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?” Tara said quickly. “With me.”
Your eyes instantly lit up. “Like, like a,” you bit your lip.
“Like a date.”
You quickly looked away, smiling as your face suddenly turned red. “Yeah, yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Great! Friday night? There’s a new horror movie coming out.”
There was a slight twitch of your mouth, but you never lost your smile. “Yeah, sounds great.”
“Great!”
Tara walked to her next class smiling. Even though she had failed in her execution for asking you out she had succeeded, you had said yes. You even agreed to Tara’s suggestion day and date, everything was working perfectly. It was going to be a Friday night; she knew Quinn would be out of the apartment with one of her gentlemen callers and that Sam would be working late. Tara would be able to have her first date with you, see a horror movie she’d been dying to see, and maybe if all went to plan, she’d even get to kiss you goodnight, and still make it back home before Sam was none the wiser.
The rest of the week had gone by quickly. Tara was bouncing with excitement the closer she got to Friday. When Friday finally came around, she rushed home, making sure to say hi to Sam before she left for work and setting up as if she was going to have a normal night in. As soon as Sam left Tara ran to her room and started destroying her closet looking for the perfect outfit. She wasn’t sure why she was trying so hard or what she was looking for, it was just a date to the movies, but it was a date with you.
Tara glanced at her phone, seeing she needed to be at the movies to meet you in half an hour she quickly threw on a cute shirt and some jeans before rushing out the door. As much as she wanted to pick you up, she didn’t have a car and you lived on the opposite side of the city, so it was more convenient for the two of you to just meet up at the movie theater.
Tara arrived at the theater a whole ten minutes early. She paced back and forth outside the front doors. She had her phone out, trying to be casual but she couldn’t take her eyes off the time. As the seconds ticked by Tara started to wonder if you’d be late or if you would even show up at all, maybe you were going to stand her up.
“Hey!” came your voice, greeting Tara as you walked down the sidewalk.
Tara glanced at her phone one last time before putting it away. A whole two minutes had passed since she arrived, meaning you also arrived early for your date with her. “Hey!” Tara greeted.
“You ready?”
Tara nodded. She wanted to hold your hand as you walked in the theater. Her fingers nervously tapped her leg as the two of you made your way to the snack stand. You both got Icee’s and a medium popcorn. Before she knew it Tara saw you handing your card over to the cashier.
“Hey,” she shouted. She asked you out, she intended to pay for everything.
“You bought the tickets,” you said. “Which are already an insane price, at least let me pay for the overpriced snacks.”
“Fine,” she mumbled, crossing her arms with a pout.
You handed Tara her Icee, holding the popcorn as you took a sip of your own Icee. When you turned around you almost spit out your Icee and started choking. Tara glared at you; how dare you laugh at her pout. Tara’s glare only seemed to make you laugh more. Once you stopped choking you had an adorable smirk on your face that Tara was hating because it made her want to smile.
“Shall we?” you asked, somehow managing to hold your drink and the popcorn in one hand while you held at your other towards Tara.
Tara stared down at your hand, flicking her eyes to your face before going back down to your hand. Tara quickly grabbed onto your hand, taking a sip of her own Icee to cover up the smile and reddening of her cheeks she was sure was happening. Tara dragged you to the kiosk where the usher was scanning tickets. She held out her phone and the guy pointed down the right hallway telling them which theater to head to.
You and Tara took your seats. Tara had picked the perfect seats, it was still a new movie, and it was rather popular, but she managed to get the best seats, a couple rows back and right smack in the middle. Tara sipped her drink, trying not to focus on how you hadn’t let go of her hand, continuing to hold it as the lights dimmed and the trailers before the movie began to play.
Tara stared up at the large screen, watching as screams filled the theater. Tara had begun chewing on her straw, she wasn’t sure when she had finished her drink. Tara jumped, smiling at the scare that just happened.
“I’ll be back,” you whispered into her ear. Tara nodded but didn’t look your way, she felt your hand finally release hers.
Tara was engulfed in the movie, watching the scenes flash before her. She reached for some popcorn when she realized her hand was cold. Tara furrowed her brow, remembering you had let go of her hand when you got up. Tara turned to see your seat empty, your Icee still in the cupholder, now completely melted. Tara frowned, you had left a little while ago, you left about thirty minutes in and now the movie was almost half over.
Tara got up from her seat and moved through the dark theater, slipping out as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the other people. When Tara pushed open the doors entering the hallways again, she looked up and down until her eyes finally landed on you. You were seated on the floor, back pressed up against the wall and head buried in your hands. Tara slowly approached, not wanting to startle you. She eased herself down until she was right next to you but making sure she wasn’t close enough to accidentally touch you.
“Hey,” Tara said softly. Despite trying her hardest not to startle you, she saw your body shudder. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, not lifting your head from your hands. “Yeah,” you said quietly as you slowly lifted your head. You refused to look at Tara, keeping your eyes glued to the carpet.
“What’s wrong?”
You shook your head. Tara saw your cheeks darken slightly as you inched your feet closer to your body, closing in on yourself even more. “Nothing, sorry for disturbing the movie for you.”
“I don’t care about that,” Tara said quickly, shaking her head. “Please, tell me what’s wrong, please?”
You finally looked Tara in the eye but quickly dropped your gaze again. You ran your hands down your face as you let out a nervous chuckle, your face becoming redder as you prepared yourself for whatever you were about to say. “I hate horror movies.”
Tara blinked a few times. Out of all the things she expected to hear you say, that was not one of them. “What?” Tara asked dumbly.
You let out another nervous chuckle. “I hate horror movies,” you said again. “I’m sorry,” you looked Tara in the eyes again, looking so sad and disappointed in yourself, as if you expected her to suddenly dislike you because you didn’t like horror movies.
“Why’d you agree to see this with me then?” Tara asked softly, with a small smile, trying to offer you any sort of comfort.
You shrugged. “Horror movies are your thing. You love them.” You started picking at the carpet. “I even tried watching The Babadook because I knew it was your favorite. Your favorite movie is a horror movie!” You let out a long sigh, crossing your arms over your knees and resting your head on them. “You finally asked me out, I didn’t want to turn down your date suggestion.”
Tara’s heart broke, she hated how oblivious she had been. You sat through thirty minutes of a movie for her even though it made you miserable. Tara had been so focused on the movie she never noticed your discomfort. When she thought back to all her interactions with you, she suddenly realized how you never talked about horror movies. Tara would go on and on about them and you just kind of nodded along.
“Hey,” Tara said softly, gently bumping your shoulder with hers. “Why don’t we get out of here?”
“What about the movie?” you asked, looking at her with sad puppy dog eyes.
“Forget the movie.”
“But you were enjoying it.”
“So, what? I’ll wait till it comes to streaming or convince Mindy to see it with me later.” Tara reached out, grabbing one of your hands and bringing it over to her lap, drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb for comfort. “I asked you out because I wanted to get to know you better. Let’s go get something to eat and just talk.”
Tara held your gaze, giving you a soft smile until you nodded, returning her smile as well. “Okay. I know a pretty good pizza place not too far.”
“Sounds great.” Tara stood up, holding out her hand, when you gratefully accepted, she helped you to your feet. “I get to pay though,” she gave you a pointed look.
You chuckled, finally relaxing again. “Okay deal.”
Tara walked out of the theater hand in hand with you. You led her a couple blocks down to a little pizza shop. The two of you walked up to the register, opting to order two slices each. Once the two of you order Tara pushed herself in front of you practically throwing her card at the cashier before you could weasel your way into paying. She heard you silently chuckle as you stepped out of her way.
You grabbed your slices and hers, ready to sit down as soon as she got her card back. Tara grabbed a drink for each of you then followed you back outside to the bar seating that overlooked the street. The two of you sat in silence as you ate your pizza, just watching the people and cars pass by.
“So,” Tara said, tossing her napkin onto the empty plate. “If horror movies aren’t your thing, what is?”
You played with the remaining crust of your pizza, quietly smiling to yourself. “Videogames.”
“Really?” she couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Yeah, the sound design, the music, it all elevates a game, it helps fully immerse you in that world.”
“Okay, what kind of games do you play?”
“You’re going to laugh.” Tara smiled, tilting her head in question. “Post-apocalyptic, horror, really anything.”
“Are you kidding me!”
“It’s not as scary when I’m playing myself,” you defended.
“Wouldn’t that make it more scary?” you just shrugged. “Okay, whatever, how about you make me a deal?” you raised an eyebrow. “You can show me some videogames if I can show you some horror movies.” You tilted your head, seeming reluctant. “Come on! I’ll start you off with some easy stuff, not super scary. Our next date you can teach me how to play your favorite game or whatever you want.”
“Who says you get a next date?”
Tara’s face went white, her mouth hung open as she stared at you with wide eyes. She was having so much fun, she assumed you were as well. The two of you were technically still on your first date and she was already talking about a second date. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s okay,” you giggled. “I can’t wait for our second date either.”
Tara took a piece of crust from her plate and threw it at you. “Jerk.” The two of you broke out into a fit of laughter.
The two of you sat and talked for a bit longer before Tara looked at the time and realized Sam would be getting home soon. Despite assuring you she’d be fine you insisted on walking Tara home. Your argument was that you guys walked to the pizza place, which was slightly closer to Tara’s apartment, therefore you got to walk her home. Tara tried to argue but she didn’t put up much of a fight, wanting to spend more time talking with you. Which is exactly what she did, she talked with you the entire walk to her apartment, talking about classes and what each of you wanted to do after college.
“This is me,” Tara sighed, looking up at her building. Tara bounced on her feet, wanting to invite you up and continue your conversation but she knew if Sam came home, and you were there someone would surely be murdered.
“Don’t worry,” you said, smiling softly at Tara. “I just wanted to make sure you got to the front door okay.”
“Thank you.” Tara bit her lip looking into your eyes, she saw you blush, looking from her eyes to her lips, she was waiting to see if you’d make the first move or if she’d have to.
“Can I-would you mind-Can I-Would you-I-” Tara cut you off with a quick kiss. She felt you suck in a breath but quickly melt into the kiss, instantly returning it.
Tara pulled away, stepping back to see a goofy smile on your face. “Sorry, I hope that’s what you were trying to ask.” You opened and closed your mouth a few times but ended up just nodding. Tara giggled at rendering you speechless. “Night,” she whispered, leaning up to place a quick kiss on your lips again before running up the steps to the front door.
“Night,” she heard you whisper.
She turned around giving you a wave goodbye, which you happily returned. Once the front door closed behind her she saw you start to walk off back down the street. Tara smiled as she quickly ran up all the flights of stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door, slumping back against it with the biggest smile she had had in a long time.
Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72
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✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯
jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au
summary:
It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—
“Did you hear what happened?”
“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”
“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”
“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”
“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”
“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”
“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”
“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”
But Regulus had heard enough.
He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.
Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.
The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.
He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.
So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?
Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.
Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.
“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.
Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”
Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”
“Wasn’t a compliment,”
Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”
“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”
“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.
Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”
“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”
“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.
Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”
Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Barty smirks at him, “You will,”
There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.
Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.
“Looking good, Potter!”
“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.
Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.
Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?
Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.
“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.
“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”
James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”
“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.
When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.
There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.
James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.
“So, Regulus,” he starts.
“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.
He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.
A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.
“My eyes are up here, love.”
His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.
James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.
“You’re blushing,” he notices.
Regulus' face is practically red at this point.
“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.
“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.
It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.
“What do you want?”
“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”
“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.
“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”
Regulus frowns. “Right now?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”
James smirks, “I think I will manage,”
This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”
James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.
Regulus does, of course he does.
Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.
Together.
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mrwavellswaps · 1 year
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A Gift that keeps Giving
Oh this part never gets old. Watching a man grunt and groan while his body starts to change. In this case getting to watch as his muscles bulge and enlarge while fat just melts away. Seeing his arms grow into powerful cannons while his pecs go from being non-existent to thick slabs of meat. All while he moaned “Yes! Yes! It’s actually happening!” As was the reaction of most clients.
He continued to bounce on my dick with glee while it glowed bright with the power I’d been blessed with causing his body to continue growing bigger. Legs bulking up, ass swelling, hands and feet increasing a few sizes. Pretty much everything about him growing bigger, as was his desire. Growing heavier with pure muscle upon every bounce while effortlessly taking every inch of my cock.
When his body finally stopped growing, I watched the transformation shift in a hairier direction. He’d only had a few hairs here and there previously but now his body was sprouting new hair everywhere! Hairy arms! Hairy legs! But most noticeably he soon sported a manly pelt of chest hair of which he couldn’t have dreamed of growing before meeting me. At which point I couldn’t help reaching up and rubbing my hands through it. Admiring both the hair and my client’s new muscle tits at the same time. He didn’t seem to mind however as he tossed his head back in glee, groaning about how he could feel his beard growing in at last. Something I also had a front row seat view for.
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The last of his changes settled in as I watched his dick grow slightly longer and fatter with every bounce while his balls inflated slightly. Now all there was left to do was lock it in. I was about to begin thrusting but before I could he began to double down on riding me. Slamming his ass down onto my dick with twice the enthusiasm along with his new strength. Even going as far as to hold my arms down while begging me to cum with that gravely new voice of his. Well luckily for him I don’t think I could’ve lasted much longer anyway with how much my dick was glowing inside of him.
Before either of us knew it, I was filling his hole with my load. And not a split second later he let out one final groan of ecstasy while his own enlarged cock shot ropes of his thick new cum all over my chest and stomach while a dumb grin formed on that hot bearded face of his. Unloading perfectly in sync with me just like they all did.
A couple minutes passed with the two of us panting in a sweaty mess before he finally pushed his heavy new body off me, my dick finally dislodging from his hole. The very first thing he did was run to the large mirror across my bedroom in excitement, his face lighting up the moment he set eyes on his new reflection. I couldn’t help but smile seeing another satisfied customer eagerly running his hands across every inch of his body like he was exploring it all for the first time. That was the whole reason I kept a full body mirror in this room honestly.
“How much do I owe you again? £500?” He asked once he was finally able to pull himself away from the mirror. I confirmed his assumption. My charge was £1000 per transformation. Half the money up front, the other half after the session. The man picked up his jacket and dug through the pockets until he pulled out a small wad of 20’s and handed it to me. I counted through it all to confirm everything was there before giving him the thumbs up to get dressed and go on his merry way.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he struggled to pull on his clothes. He’d even brought some brand new, bigger clothes with him in preparation but even they were a tad too small. The larger pair of joggers he bought barely fit and let me just say they left nothing to the imagination. Before anything else though he couldn’t help sitting down beside handing over an extra £100 as a tip for giving him exactly what he wanted down to the tiniest details. “This body is everything I could’ve wished for! Huge, strong and so much hair. Even the scent is perfect!” He stated while lifting up one of his arms to reveal a hairy pit, clearly enjoying the smell it was giving off, while thanking me again.
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We talked some more for a while. Discussing my powers a little and what he was going to do now with this new and improved look. He even asked if I wanted to hang out in a bit more of a romantic setting sometime. He seemed like a nice enough guy and his dream body just so happened to be exactly my type so I happily agreed. After which he gave me a big hug with those new hairy muscles of his before jumping up from the bed and tugging on an extremely tight t-shirt. This adorable hunk gave me one last kiss on the cheek before walking, well more like waddling with how tight those clothes were, out of my apartment with a smile on his face.
My dick truly was a gift. I figured out shortly after having sex for the first time that anyone I fucked would transform into the version of themselves they desired most. If I fucked a dude who wished he could be lean and hairless super model, he’d become just that. If I fucked a dude who wished he was big muscle bear, he’d pack on all the fat and muscle he needed to be such. So on so forth.
Of course I quickly realised I could make a business out of it so I started charging money as word spread about me. Of course I know I could charge a hell of a lot more than 1K but I also just liked doing it for the sake of helping people. And help people I have. Ton’s of them! Hell I’ve even had a few straight guys take my dick up their ass just for a chance to have their perfect bodies. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy that.
I reached a hand down and cradled my cock slightly. I still have no idea what granted it this kind of power but whatever the case I plan on using it to change the lives of so many more men out there for the better. In the meantime however, I can’t wait to start setting up date plans with hopefully my soon to be boyfriend!
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pandorasfavorite · 2 months
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can u do a dom x fem!reader and basically shes an interviewer at wwe and dating dom and decided to try the pheromone perfume thing on him and it drives him wild and then smut 🤭
Perfume is Powerful
I'm clawing at the walls writing this.... and were pretending baby boy is in his Champion era.
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You and Dominik have been dating for close to a year but no one knows. There have been rumors, but of course, there was no concrete evidence, you guys were careful. You hate to be a woman who is displeased by her boyfriend... the sex is great every time without fail. But part of you longs for something more feverish, quick, risky. Anytime yall fuck it's passionate and in bed, you want that movie type of sex. The kind that makes you throw your head back and have your mouth muffled by his big hands while he plows into you. Truly when Dominik steps into work he is instantly into character, but regardless his character is still in love with you....
You are dressed up in a business casual type outfit, a skirt that was a bit shorter than normal, that the cameras couldn't see. But your shirt was skimpy, covered by a coat that would conceal you during the interview. What brought the whole thing was the new perfume you bought, all the reviews say it makes their boyfriends go crazy, so you had to try it out. You roll the perfume onto the sides of your neck, your wrists, and just a bit on the insides of your thighs...just in case.
Dominik has yet to come to the interview but all the cameras were set up when it goes live. Dominik couldn't be around you before the interview otherwise his character wouldn't be as pronounced, and it would be too obvious. He walks in with that usual swagger his face etched with a frown, that mean look always gave you goosebumps in the best way. You couldn't help but smile and Dominik was holding back, his lip just barely quirked up at the sight of you before he suppressed it. The directors told you both it was time. You and Dominik stood nearly shoulder to shoulder facing the camera. "3...2...1...were live!" the director yelled.
You smile directly at the camera to start your introduction, "I'm joined by NXT champion Dominik Mysterio, who got a front row seat to his opponents match for tonight, that his father set up. How are you feeling going in?", you turn to ask him and immediately you are struck. Dominik looks bent out of shape all of the sudden, his jaw is tight as if it was wired shut and his fist is clenched to his side. He shakes his head and coughs trying to play it off, "Well, my back hurts from carrying this company on my back for past almost two years now. I already beat Dragon Lee twice with my dad in his corner". Dominik speaks to the camera but its clear to you that his mind is elsewhere, his hand is twitching at its side now...towards you.
You smile at his cocky response moving on to one more question with your own twist, "Standing here with Mr. 'Dirty' Dominik Mysterio has been a great pleasure, we have one more question for you.".
Dominik swallows and you noticed he has started to sweat, pulling at his shirt to get some air. "Yea".
Your directors nodded at you, they knew of this news, but Dominik is just now finding out on live television. "What is your advice for a new wrestler such as myself?", the roars of the crowd were booming loud enough for the cameras to pick up on. Dominik's eyes went comedically wide and he nearly dropped his belt right off his shoulder. He breathes shallowly, he gathers his bearing just enough to say, "You don't need any advice". This means Dominik had complete confidence in your abilities. You turn your attention back to the camera and you smile. The crew instantly packed up their things and rushed out of the room in a matter of 30 seconds, on their way to other segments.
The door clicks shut and you hear Dominik's belt smack on the ground. He unbuckles his belt, ripping it off of his body and he rushes towards you. His large hands grasp and squeeze your waist, his nose nustling into your neck, and then you hear a loud muffled moan. His mouth is open sucking on your neck while he takes deep breaths, inhaling the natural smell the perfume brought out. Your fingers run through his hair, and you giggle at his reaction, "You okay baby?".
Dominik thrusts your body against him, with no space left for yourself. "You smell good", he says in an uncharacteristic deep voice, your eyes light up. You kiss his cheek, "Don't I always?".
"This is different, mierda mami. You're driving me crazy", in a second you feel his teeth scrape across your collar bone. His hands work at the buttons of your skirt pulling it down till it falls to the floor. He tosses his shirt of quickly and sinks to his knees to connect his lips to the soft of your legs. You spread your legs just enough for Dominik to get between them and the moment he does the groans at the same smell, his hand falling from your leg to his cock. He lays his forehead on one of your legs and his eyes are squeezed shut, you rub his head trying to see what's going on. "Dominik? What's wrong?", your voice is overflowing with concern, you didn't think he'd react this strongly. "I think I'm gonna cum", he sputters out, his fingers leaving red marks on your thighs. You can't control the gasp that flies out of your mouth, you knew that was going to be burned into your mind for a year... maybe two.
You sink to your knees in front of him, your hands cradling his face now... not that it helped considering you put it on your wrists as well. "Do you need a minute?", you ask so sweetly. He answers with a deep inhale, nearly tilting his head back at the pleasure you bring to him just by your natural pheromones. God the way he was acting you didn't need any prep, he could slide right in. "I need it now hermosa, tell me you can take it, tell me mami", he looks up at you with wide, glossy, dilated eyes that take your breath away. "I can take it", you whisper to him trying to diffuse some of the tension he is feeling.
His face splits into a major grin and he pushes your thighs apart so he can get in between them. In that moment he gets close to you, only to push you back by the chest, a hand behind your head when it hits the floor. You lay on your back, your feet flat on the floor and your legs spread. Dominik pulled off your coat but simply unbuckled your bra from under the shirt, tossing it off to the side. His patience was wearing thin, he pulled your shirt just above your boobs and his hands instantly go to touch them. His mouth follows and the closer he gets to the smell of you he can feel himself lose control over again. Another groan of pleasure and a bit of pain from denial brings him back to his twitching cock. "I can't be easy, I have to fuck you-tell me-", you sit up on your elbows for just a moment to look at him. "Fuck me", you say with absolute certainty.
He follows your instruction, pulling out his cock quickly and pushing into you with one fluid motion, the girth stretching you in the most pleasurable way. Your mouth falls open with a moan/whimper. "I know mami, it's going to feel so good in just a second", he says like a promise, though he was feeling as if he was going to cum on the spot. You tug at his hair, your wrist right by his face, the smell driving him to a frenzy, he thrusts into you at a relentless pace. The sounds of his hips smacking against your ass was loud enough to echo, your moans come out loud and high-pitched... too loud. Dominik think the sounds from your mouth are the hottest thing he's ever heard but you both cant risk getting caught. His hand clasps over your mouth, his hair dangling in front of him, his hips working rhythmically, his body looking like a Greek god. He slows down and goes deep inside of you, groaning as you moan, "I'll give you some advice if you want to walk- don't wear this shit. My cock was hard the moment I got close to you", he rasped into your ear.
The sensation felt so good, his deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you that only he could reach. Every roll and rock of his hips made your walls clench around him and you felt it coming before you even realized it. Your head just barely tilted back and your back arched, Dominik knew what was coming just by that. He pressed you back down harshly, pressing down on your stomach just to the point you could feel that pressure. "Cum. You know you go first", he grits out feeling himself getting close too. As you cum your pussy convulsed around Dominik's cock and the pleasure was astronomical for him. The wet slick and almost painful tightness brought him over the edge moments after you. He cums with a groan, his face falling into the side of your neck.
He inhales and pulls back with a groan, his face made as he glares at you. "You still smell so fucking good. I just came mami-", now he sounds like he's whining at the effect you have on him.
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forever-rogue · 9 months
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A little hurt to comfort request
A wannabe groupie makes comments about rockstar!eddie girlfriend (aka reader maybe plus-size!reader) eddie ofc defends his lady. But then reader starts feeling insecure about her looks and body she thinks she isn’t good enough for him. But he reassures her that she is the only one for him.
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AN | I hope this is okay! I feel like this would be me too, Eddie would be the best the best 🥰
Warnings | Language
Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSized!Fem!Reader
Word Count | 4.1k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It had been no secret that you’d been dating Eddie Munson for close to a year now. The Eddie Munson.  Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but then you'd wake up with him pulling you into his chest. 
Life was…pretty fucking good. Or pretty fucking metal as Eddie liked to say.
You'd never thought twice about the fact that you were dating him, or rather that he had chosen you. 
Not until, anyway, one night when you were at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, but you usually watched from the front VIP area or remained backstage to watch everything. Today, something compelled you to go out in the thick of it all, to be with the crowd and experience it from a new angle. 
You were walking in with Jeff’s wife, the two of you holding beers as you went to your seating area. A few curious glances were sent your way, almost as if the people recognized the two of you but just couldn’t quite place you. That was probably exactly what was going on; it was nice to retain some sense of anonymity. 
The two of you siddled into your spots and you heard a burst of laughter coming from a few seats down. The noise was so loud and out of place that it caused you to look down the row. Much to your chagrin you found two women staring back at you, wicked smirks on their faces. 
They were exactly the type of women you expected to be at a rock concert. Scantily dressed with large fake breasts, fake tans, bleached hair and too make-up. These were the type of women that you found after trying to get in with the boys. Groupies, and they were shameless about it. 
You turned your attention back to Angela, but before you could fully do so, you heard a loud moo directed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard them making very non-discreet and rude comments. They were directed at you, you knew that right away and they were making no point to hide it.
“Can you believe Eddie Munson is dating her?”
“She must be good at sucking dick because you know Eddie wouldn’t keep her around for anything else.”
“She’s clearly good at eating.”
“He could do so much better.”
“What a waste of space!”
“If you’re going to be a porker, you could at least try to look pretty.”
You felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes but tried to push away the feelings that were bubbling up. They were just words after all, they shouldn’t have any real effect on you, and yet…it was the worst feeling. Those girls were purposely being cruel and for no real reason. No reason other than the fact that they were jealous of the fact that you were dating Eddie. 
Angela picked up on your sudden mood shift, and gently put her hand on your arm, “what’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing,” you lied so quickly that it was clearly not true. A frown settled on her features but you shook your head, “really, it’s fine.”
You could see that she was looking past you and down the row where the two girls were standing, looking smug as can be, “was it them? Did they do something?”
“No - nothing,” you dropped your voice to what you hoped was only what she could hear so they didn’t make anything worse, “just felt a little odd for a few minutes. It’ll pass soon.”
“If you’re sure…” she was a good friend and would have done anything for you, just as you would for her. You took a sip of your beer and tried to put on what you thought would be a convincing smile. 
“Of course!” you had never been more thankful for the band to come out and play. You watched the boys struck onto stage, Eddie looking every bit the showman. Your heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him, “c’mon let’s get this show started!”
It wasn't entirely enough to take your mind off everything, but at least you experienced the momentary happiness of getting Eddie on stage. 
You tried to ignore the horrible girls that continued to make comments throughout the show. But it was fuckin’ hard.
Once the show ended, you allowed the crowd around you to disperse and leave, remaining behind so you could make your way backstage quietly. You really didn’t want to see or be around anyone else right now, especially not ones that were going to throw horrible comments at you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Once the crowd had thinned out, you followed Angela to the back of the stadium. At least you had the promise of getting to see Eddie soon. She was talking about something but you were only half listening. There were tons of people, girls and guys, hanging around the dressing rooms, trying to sneak their way inside. Luckily the security was good and they kept prying eyes and nosey nancies away. 
The guards recognized both of you now and there wasn’t even a need to show your passes. Eddie must have somehow sensed your presence because he opened the door as soon as you were near it. His entire face lit up as soon as he saw you, the beautiful and brilliant smile making its appearance as he studied you. Before you could even say anything, his brows furrowed and eyes grew worried.
"What's wrong?" and you had to fight the fresh wave of tears that threatened to well up. He gently took your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
"N-nothing," you lied and he was able to see right through it. It was the soft look on his face that caused it all to be too much and the tears spilled over. Eddie's touch was nothing short of reverent as he wiped them away, "its nothing, I'm just being dumb."
"It's not nothing if it's making you feel this way," he insisted but you pulled out of his touch and ducked into his dressing room. Angela saw what was going on and walked over to Eddie, "what's going on?"
"There were girls," she explained, "sitting near us. They were making horrible and rude comments about her. Totally unnecessary and I think they really got to her."
"What the fuck-"
"Yeah," she nodded sadly, looking around to see who was hanging around. And, to no surprise at all, the girls were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Angela grabbed his hand and pointed in their direction, "them! It was the two of them."
A furious look crossed his features as he pulled away from her. Despite the whole bad boy image, Eddie was really soft and kind. But this had brought up a while different type of emotion and Angela had never seen him so mad.
"Hey," he barked at the girls, who immediately pushed to get to him. Little did they know they were not going to like what he had to say to them. The one that had instigated everything came forward and batted her eyelashes at him.
"Hi Eddie-"
"Which one of you was talking shit about my girlfriend?" Their faces paled as they exchanged nervous looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, "huh? Not so brave now, are we?"
"We didn't say anything mean," the other one lied, "we were just talking. She probably misunderstood."
"Bull-fucking-shit," he shook his head, curls bouncing widely, "I know your type, you're just rude to others for no reason. What did you think you were going to get out of being bitches?"
"Listen, we didn't do-"
"I know you did," he glared at them, "did you think we'd somehow break up and one of you had a chance with me? Are you that fucking stupid?"
"We didn't mean anything by it…"
"Well, that's lovely but you did what you did," he took a step back and shook his head at them, "you're never allowed at another Corroded Coffin show. I'll make sure of that. And if this ever happens and I get word of it, I won't be as nice. Clear?"
Neither of them managed to say anything, only nodding dumbly before turning around and practically running away. Eddie told his security to make sure to get their information so he could make sure they were banned from any future shows.
"You're a good man," Angela squeezed his shoulder before turning around to find Jeff.
Eddie took a deep breath before letting himself into his dressing room. His heart broke a little bit when he saw you sitting on the couch, eyes red from crying. 
"Baby," he came over and sat down next to you, attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. You flinched out from under his touch and shook your head at him, hastily wiping away the rest of your half-dried tears. His heart ached; you’d never shied away from his touch before, “what’s wrong? Please just…tell me. Let me make it better. I talked to those girls-”
“It’s not…” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, “it’s not just them. It’s just…me.”
“You? How is it you?’ he crossed his arms over his chest, pale skin covered in various ink, “you know I’m not going to quit asking until you tell me. I’m a stubborn bastard, you know that.”
“Look at yourself,” you gestured to him and confusion marred his features as he looked at himself. He was still sweaty, in desperate need of a post show shower, only wearing a pair of skinny jeans and his beat up sneakers. He shrugged as you huffed, “now look at me.”
He looked you over, the same look as always in his eyes. You were gorgeous and he honestly had no clue what you were going on about, “umm…baby, you’re beautiful. You know that.”
“No,” you stood up and shook your head, “I’m…fuck, Eddie, you have eyes, I’m not skinny and I don’t look like all those other girls who throw themselves at you. I’m-”
“Fuck that,” he shook his head, “so what? I love that you don’t look like any of them, I don’t want them - I want you. I love you, baby, all of you.”
“You could have someone better,” you turned your back to him and hid your face in your hands. Eddie didn’t even know how to possibly respond because you were so wrong - so wrong, “someone that looks good like you and that deserves you.”
“I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I don’t want anyone else but you,” Eddie’s hands found your shoulders as he gently turned you around, so he could properly look at you. He put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. He hated seeing you cry and even more he hated the idea that you could ever think so lowly of yourself. You were everything to him and he wished he could make you understand that, “only you. You’re it for me, baby.”
You knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t lying to you. But it still didn’t help the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness that was settling into the back of your mind. Instead of arguing with him or pushing the issue further all you could do was nod in response, “me too, Eddie. You’re it for me too.”
He relaxed slightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Despite Eddie’s reassurances, the run in at his show stuck with you. You weren’t able to completely shake off the feelings that those cruel words had brought up. Despite trying to hide them and pretending that they weren’t there in order to trick yourself into letting them go, nothing worked. Instead, it just kept getting worse and worse and you found yourself drifting apart from Eddie. 
You felt like you were suddenly aware of every single time someone else looked at him, or read too much into everything that was said to him. You couldn’t help but think that he deserved someone better, someone different - someone that wasn’t you. You wanted only the best for the man you loved so much. 
That’s how you made the hardest decision of your life. 
Eddie practically bounded to the door when he heard the silly little knock that the two of you had come up with. He wasn’t expecting you, but he was always more than happy to see you. He threw open the door, ready to wrap you up in his arms.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the somber expression on your face. You caught his eye for just a moment, looking away and staring at your feet, “h-hey.”
“What’s wrong?” of course he dove right into it; not that you could blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be doing the same thing, “baby?”
“L-listen,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m sorry to do this so late, but umm…I think - I think we should break up.”
“What?” his doe eyes grew wide as you rocked back and forth on your heels before stepping back from him. Eddie ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to rationalize why you were suddenly breaking up with him. He never once thought about the two of you breaking up; in his mind it was forever, and that’s what he had always planned on, “what are you talking about?”
“I’m breaking up with you,” your words caught in your throat and it sounded even more harsh and choked. This time you hadn’t even bothered to hold back your tears, instead they fell down your cheeks and landed onto the marble of the apartment building’s floor, “I can’t date you anymore, Eddie.”
Eddie was a smart man; it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “can’t date me or won’t  date me?”
“What’s the difference?” you threw up your hands in exasperation.
“You know what it is,” you groaned. You loved his tenacity but right now you just wished he’d accept what you were saying, “either way, Eddie, this is over.”
“Baby,” he tried to grab your arms but you just pulled away, “baby. Is this about what happened a few weeks ago?”
“No,” the blatant lie was obvious, “I just…I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“Give me one good reason,” he asked, some desperation creeping into his voice despite how cool he was trying to play it, “give me one good reason why we can’t be together.”
You looked at him, squarely in the face, “I don’t love you.”
And that, those four simple words, cut deeper than anything he would have expected. He knew - or at least desperately hoped - that you were lying to him. Right? Right? The last three years you’d spent together couldn’t all have been a lie, surely. The love you said was real…it couldn’t just have been pretend. That might have actually killed him.
“That’s a lie,” he said through gritted teeth as you shrugged at him, “please, wait, I…we can talk about this and figure it out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” your voice was barely audible as you created an even larger distance between the two of you, “it’s done.”
Eddie watched silently as you walked towards the elevator. When you stepped inside you turned around so you could face him before pressing the button for the lobby. 
“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard you say before the doors closed, “I’m sorry.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It felt like an eternity since you’d last seen Eddie. In reality, it had only been four months, but it felt like the longest time in your life. Every day without him felt achingly long and dreadful. The fact that he was famous and you had to see him in magazines, on TV, in advertisements and posters didn’t help. In some ways it was a small comfort getting to see him, but it also made your heart ache more for him. 
You had been tempted to go to his apartment and explain and try and work it out but you stopped yourself. All of this was because of you; and now you had to live with the consequences of your actions. The fact that he was on tour again helped your dilemma slightly - he wasn’t going to be home. 
Even if you were miserable, you hoped that he would be happy. He would find someone that was worthy of his love and that matched him as best as possible. Someone that wasn’t you. Maybe one day you would have your turn too…maybe.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You groaned as you heard knocking at the door. You set down your glass with a huff before pausing the movie you were watching. You’d already gotten the pizza you ordered and had no clue what this could have been. Whatever it i was, it better have been worth getting off the couch.
“Hang on,” you called out before opening the door; you didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before opening, “what?”
“Hi,” and there stood Eddie Munson. A small, tired half smile was on his face; he looked like he’d just come from a show, that similar glow on his face, “h-hi there.”
“Eddie?” you asked softly as though it wasn’t obvious that he was standing right there in your hallway. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning against the doorframe in disbelief, “w-what are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood-”
“Bullshit,” you cut him off softly, “you’ve been on tour. I thought your last show was tomorrow night?”
“Still keeping track, huh?” he teased as warmth crept into your cheeks before offering him a single affirmative nod, "the last show was umm…tomorrow but I just…I wanted to see…you."
"Me?" You pointed at yourself and he nodded with a smile, "why? After everything I said and did. I was awful to you."
"It wasn't you," he stated simply, "I mean it was you but it was…circumstances."
"Eddie-"
"Can I come in?" You stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. Once inside, he took a look around the familiar space, feeling more at home than he had in a long time. You went into the living room and plopped on the couch. He sat down on the other end, keeping a bit of distance between your bodies, "so…"
"What are you doing here, Eddie?" you allowed yourself one little look at his face. He looked tired and run down, but there was an expression of fierce determination on his face.
"I'm here to see you," he was never one to beat around the bush, "and I guess…asking you to take me back."
Your tummy erupted in butterflies and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You turned to him, "I - what…you want me to take you back?"
"It's been four months and everyday has fucking sucked," he admitted, letting out a shaky little exhale, "and its because you're not there. I…my life isn't complete without you."
"But…I," he really had to go and be the best man ever. You smiled softly at him, "why would you want to be with me?"
"Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, as though the answer was so obvious. To him it was obvious - you were everything to him. You looked at him, searching his pretty brown eyes, "babe, I'm in love with you. Everything about you, I'm so fucking in love with you it scares me some times. I don't want anyone but you. Like ever."
"But…"
"But what?" He asked gently as you searched for the right words, "tell me, baby."
"You deserve better."
"Why?"
"'cause," you shrugged him off but he wasn't going to have it.
"Nuh uh," he moved even closer and reached for your hand, "I'm not going to let it go until you give me a real answer."
"Look at me, Eddie!" You hung your head before sighing heavily, "I'm not skinny and pretty like all those other girls! You could have any and every single one of them. They'd be so much better for you and they'd be more like you. You'd have someone that deserves you."
"Is that what…baby, is that what this has been about?" He had his light bulb moment but it was a harsh reality. This was still bugging you for so long and he hadn't even realized, "you should have…fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't realize."
"It's not like you can fix anything," you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, "I am what I am and I don't want to feel like I'm holding you back."
"Fuck that," he shook his head, "I barely deserve you, you're so much…you're everything. I know you don't look like some of those other girls, but so what? You're gorgeous, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I don't want anyone else."
"What if you change your mind one day?"
"I hate to break it to you, but that's never going to happen," he promised, "I love you and that's it. Nothing else matters. If anyone has anything to say, fuck 'em. They don't matter."
"Eddie…"
"Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, holding it out to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it gently and opened. Staring back at you was a beautiful diamond ring. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you looked at him, "yeah. I was, ugh, I was actually planning on asking you before you broke up with me."
"You were going to ask me to marry you?" Your voice cracked as you came to the realization that he really was in it forever. Not that you had any reason to ever doubt him, it was the voices in your head that grew too loud. 
"Yeah," he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion, "I just…I wanted you to know."
"I'm sorry," you closed the box and handed it back to him slowly, "really, Eddie. I went and fucked things up."
"No, you didn't," he promised, touching your cheek, "your feelings are valid. Even though I don't agree with how you've been feeling about yourself. It also makes me mad that those girls, or anyone, would ever say something like that about anyone else. It's immature and just shows their own insecurities."
"Thank you," you put your hand on his wrist and squeezed gently, "you're the best, I hope you know that."
"I do," there was a playful little smile on his face, "because there's this amazing woman that constantly reminds me of that."
"You silly man," you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled, "someone is going to be very lucky to have you one day."
"Yeah, I sure hope so," he snorted in amusement, "and I hope it's you."
"Me?!" 
"Of course," he was beaming at you and it was enough to make your entire body feel like jelly, "did you really think you were just going to get rid of me like that?"
"I should have known better," your heart felt lighter than it had in months, "you're a stubborn man, Eddie Munson."
"Maybe so," he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, "I'm also stubborn enough to think that you might still marry me."
"I think that might be something that could happen," and yeah, you were definitely and madly in love with this man, "its definitely in the cards."
"Hmm," he mused gently, "well, it's getting pretty late…I guess I should get going."
"Stay," you held onto his arm and kept him anchored towards you, "stay."
"Are you sure?" 
"Positive," you nodded, never more sure than anything else, "please."
"I love you, baby. So much."
"I love you too, Eddie. So, so much."
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hanasnx · 3 months
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Waaaaitttt I saw the Hayden suggestions and I’ve unashamedly thought about the very top one many many times cause I’m embarrassingly craving that y/n moment and I’ve gone to a decent amount of cons and met a fair amount of celebs I’ve debated about using one of the pheromone perfumes to meet Hayden. But like yess he sees you during the photo op and he’s instantly drawn to you. He doesn’t pay much attention to that thought cause he’s got a long line to get through and photo ops are fast paced but then when you go up to get your autograph that’s when he can sneakily make a move. When you get an autograph the handlers write your name for the celeb on a sticky note and usually the celeb doesn’t take it off so like I’m thinking he quickly scribbles his number on it and you’re so star struck you don’t notice it until you’re away from his table..but that’s how you end up in his hotel room that night with your legs up over your head.
-Bimbo Baggins
MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: i gatekept this message it was so good
HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN tries to stay in his lane. Over the years he's gotten exceptionally good at minding his business, minding his manners, and staying out of trouble. Mixing business with pleasure is a very steep cliff, one he rarely dares to approach. However, you had caught his eye in a way that hadn't occurred in a very long time. To give everyone fair treatment during these photo ops, his attention is solely on them during, and he did not mind at all holding your gaze when you shook his hand politely. Habitually, when you'd leaned over in front of him to give one of the attendants something he didn't care to look at, he snuck a generous glance at your ass. As soon as you stepped back to stand next to him for the picture, he accommodated you, moving aside so you could tuck under his arm, and scolded himself for giving in to the temptation.
"Can we do a sort of Anidala-wedding scene pose?" you had asked with such hope, gazing up at him with stars in your eyes. He took too long to answer.
"Of course." He nodded as soon as he got a hold of himself. "Can you show me what you mean?"
Gently, you directed him, handling his broad shoulders to turn him towards you so you could look deeply into his eyes for the picture. For one second, he could swear his heart skipped a beat. Next thing he knew, the picture flashed and you were saying your thank yous and goodbyes. A seed of disappointment grew in his chest, but he moved on.
Only to find himself eager sitting in his seat at the sight of you in the autograph line. A grin spreads on his features as you approach his booth.
"Hi again." you exhale, beaming.
"Good to see you." Hayden replies, pointing out the obvious humor of coming across you twice in a row. He's thankful, scribbling his signature onto the picture frame you'd bought earlier right after your photo op with him. A split second decision is made and it gives him no time to second-guess it when he's adding his number to the sticky note. It's his WhatsApp, just to stay safe, but you don't get time to even look at it, your attention solely on him when you thank him again. He nods at you, and watches you walk away. Once more, his eyes flash to your behind and how it sways in your little cosplay outfit.
It's not always about instant attraction for him, he has to get to know the person to know if he truly likes them, but there's something about you that draws him in. He wants to get to know you, even if he might be compromising his privacy. The ball is in your court, all he has to do is wait for you to notice the gift he left on your sticky note.
"What's that?" your friend asks, pointing to your picture frame in your hand. You grin widely at them.
"Hayden Christensen signed my picture with him— Look!" you exclaim, raising the item into view only to see what your friend was actually referring to. Your expression drops at the sight of ten numbers in a recognizable pattern. A phone number. You face away from your friend in an instant, keeping it to yourself and shielding it with your body. "No way. No fucking way—"
"Is that a phone number? Lemme see—!"
You pinch your shoulder, jerking it away from their touch as you ogle at the sticky note. "There's no way..." It's a dream, it's a fantasy, you're going to wake up any second and then have to get ready to go to con to meet Hayden Christensen for the first time.
"Relax! It's probably the staff member that wrote your name on the sticky note!" your friend reasons, poking their head around your neck and through your hair to sneak a peek. "'Sides, he's like a thousand years old."
"Be quiet for a second, lemme think." you say as you stride away and out of the exit area, scanning your surroundings for a place to chill out and sit.
"If you're that bothered, we should test it! C'mon."
"Okay, okay. Let me find service I have to download an app."
You don't even know how it happened, all of it was a blur. One moment you were texting to verify the number was who you thought it was and ignored your gut feeling when you were texted back two simple words: "Call me."
With all the power within you, you tried to remain as calm as possible while on the phone with him. Constantly, you reminded yourself that "He's just some guy." So you could fathom having a real conversation with him. It turned into him inviting you out, somewhere respectful and secluded to talk after his panel, snowballed into visiting his hotel bar, and then up to his room to sit on his balcony.
"You mind if a smoke?" he'd asked. You shook your head. And it was the first time you'd tried a cigarette. The end still wet from his lips around it, and he cupped his big hands around the mouth of it so he could light it for you.
It must've been the alcohol, or the long day, but when you'd kissed him you were sure you were possessed. His lips were soft like silk, warm and plump, and he slid his hand behind your neck to make sure you couldn't run away. Tongues coated in nicotine curled against one another, experimenting as if afraid to turn the other one away.
Taller than you, you had to crane your neck, but he held you so carefully. Gentler still even when he draw you away while your lips were still pouted and pliantly awaiting his return. "I'm sorry, I apologize. I don't know what came over me." he exhaled, releasing you. But you didn't listen, clutching onto collar of his jacket to draw him right back in.
"Oh, right there. Right there!" you plea, clawing at the hotel pillows above your head as Hayden rolls his hips into you. Big hands tuck into the crooks of your knees, folding your legs over you to hit that spongy spot inside you. Cunt up to the sky, he's slamming into you like he's done it before, a sheen of sweat to his forehead. "That's so fucking good, Hayden," you draw out the words in a sultry whine, and for one second you can't believe that you get to say those words right now. Quickly drawn back in to the moment as soon as he bottoms out for the umpteenth time, screwing your fanatic brains out.
"You feelin' good? Yeah?" he exhales, and his tongue forms over his upper lip as he splays a hand under your ass. It feels so big on you as it lifts your hips up into his thrusts. "Keep those legs up for me." You do as you're told, replacing his touch on your thighs to make sure, and you overlay one of his hands. A strangely intimate and endearing detail he takes to heart, watching your little fingers grab at his in the crook of your knee while he's yanking your cunt up by your asscheek.
"Please don't stop, please!" You want to stay here all night, all next day, forever. You want to live in this little bubble.
In a way, he helps you to achieve that by giving you his real number when it's time to leave his hotel room, and makes you promise to take his call whenever he's in the area again.
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wnobin · 3 months
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BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au
pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader
genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.
series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.
series masterlist | 06: gapildeu
it was currently 8:40am and anton was sitting on the couch in wonbin’s and seunghan’s dorm, tapping his feet impatiently while waiting for the latter to finish getting ready. seunghan was currently whining to the younger male about how he couldn’t find the other side of his sock and how “everyone would notice that his socks were mismatched”.
“for the last time seunghan, nobody is going to be staring at your feet during your presentation. can you hurry up?”
“but what if they do!”
“they won’t.”
seunghan was just about to start whining again when the door to wonbin’s room opened, revealing a half-asleep wonbin with messy bed hair. with closed eyes, he threw a pair of black socks towards seunghan, hitting him in the head directly. “get out. now.”
“thanks, wonbin! see you later!” seunghan hurriedly put on his socks and shoes before getting dragged out by anton who was as usual, anxious about being late to class. they would be having their individual presentations for japanese 101 today and anton had finally landed on a topic to present on. he would’ve presented on his musical abilities but he lacked the vocabulary for that so he settled for something easier, like his past in swimming. meanwhile, seunghan had decided to present on crayon shin-chan. anton was sure that someone would end up laughing during his presentation but seunghan couldn’t be talked out of it. “nothing’s funny about how iconic crayon shin-chan is.”
the both of them were on their way to the classroom when they spotted you in front of them. this was an unusual sight as you had always been the last to arrive to class, showing up when lesson had already started most of the time. seunghan excitedly poked anton’s side, giggling as his embarrassed friend tried to get him to shut up. “go talk to her!”
“no? and shut up, she’s gonna hear you.”
“what, are you shy? i’ll help you.”
seunghan opened his mouth and was about to call out to you but was promptly stopped by anton’s hand covering his mouth. whilst the two of them were busy fighting, you had already entered the classroom and was long gone. once the coast was clear, anton removed his hand.
“seriously, it’s been three weeks of eyeing her and you’re still not going to do anything?”
“obviously not. i’ve never even talked to her before. i just think she’s pretty… and maybe, kind of my type.”
anton was a lost cause. he was too shy for his own good and refused any help or advice his friend was offering. seunghan simply sighed and shook his head, taking his seat in the chair next to anton’s, deciding to head back to his original seating since you didn’t have plans of moving from your front row seat. seunghan proceeded to talk anton’s ear off about how the guy he sat with last lesson, chenle or whatever his name was, kept farting. anton just absentmindedly nodded at his friend’s over exaggerated complaints, busy looking in your direction. would it be weird if he approached you? the both of you had nothing in common after all, as you were both from different majors. what if you already had a boyfriend?
twice a week for three weeks, anton had been staring at you for every class and he picked up all your small habits. you preferred to write down your notes traditionally in your pink notebook instead of typing it on your laptop or writing on an ipad like other students. you never raised your hand to answer questions but you would turn around and whisper answers to sim jayoon, who sat behind you, when prof won asked her a question.
anton was quickly brought back to reality when professor won started to pick out students to present. he went in random order and thankfully, yang jungwon was chosen first and his presentation ended up being on his favourite food, curry. anton felt less worried about his topic after seeing how most of his classmates had similar presentations, being on their favourite show or hobbies.
“hm, let’s see… can y/n come up next?”
you lifted your head at the sound of your name, prof won looking at you with expectant eyes. you got up from your seat, moving to connect your laptop to the projector with shaking hands, nervous as you weren’t used to presentations, especially one in a language you barely knew.
anton watched the way you gulped nervously, your eyes darting from your laptop to the projector screen. eventually your laptop connected and displayed your cover slide which was a 0.5x picture of a cat? an orange cat wearing a bunny hat.
“good morning professor won and fellow classmates. i’ll be talking about my cat that lives with me in the dorms, gapil!”
you had racked your brain for ideas on what to present on for days, whining to eunchae and gapil when you got an idea— the greatest idea ever. what would be better to talk about than your dear cat? you didn’t have to think, you could already talk about your darling gapil for hours. your slides had more pictures of the black cat in silly positions than words but nobody seemed to mind, even prof won had a big smile on his face, laughing to himself and pointing to the screen when a picture of gapil dressed as santa popped up on the screen.
“her name is gapil which is short for garfield in korean. doesn’t she look like garfield?” you had a wide grin on your face, excited to be showing off your cat to everyone. this was the first time anyone in the class had ever seen you with an expression that wasn’t boredom and anton couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight. you had already passed your three minute time limit but nobody cared, listening attentively to you talking about how you took in gapil on a particularly rainy night when she seemed frail and weak.
“that’s it for my presentation today, thank you for listening!” you thanked the class and bowed before disconnecting your laptop and heading back to your seat. you seemed to get the most applause out of everyone that presented, even those that were usually asleep during lessons were wide awake for your presentation.
anton might have been infatuated with your looks and your aura but now, he was definitely falling for your caring and gentle personality. he wanted to know you more, wanted to see the side of you that he saw today, warm and bubbly.
“next, let’s have anton lee!”
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