Tumgik
#or stressful part is over take a breath and when you're ready do the next part
newtness532 · 4 months
Text
tbh i think if i followed what i learn during driving lessons about everything else in my life too i could be so much calmer and happier
3 notes · View notes
praeluxius · 4 months
Text
coup de théâtre - IVE Jang Wonyoung (Ft. An Yujin, Naoi Rei, Kim Gaeul)
Part 2 of folie à deux.
IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male reader smut.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Masterlist word count: 11,849
Tumblr media
coup de théâtre - a sudden and surprising event
"You're just not getting it." Wonyoung stresses as her hands settle on Rei's hips. "If we get too close here, it's going to ruin everything."
"So you don't want me right here?" Rei's shoulders slouch and she pouts in confusion.
"Watch. Yujin, you know what you’re doing." Wonyoung signals the other girl over. "Gaeul, ready?"
She gives a confident nod and readies her posture.
"Alright, music, cue.” That is your signal. See, that's the only reason you're here. Wonyoung insisted you help them out during their dance practice. With the speaker at your feet, you slouch against the mirrored back wall. You can see yourself, shorts and tee loosely hung from your body, in the mirror across the room. Between you and it, the four girls are ready to spring to life. They swear they'll make it big, maybe they will, but they're not there yet.
You hit play on your phone. “Five, six, seven, eight,” and three of the girls dance. Wonyoung watches as the girls inevitably get in each other's way. Rei goes to cross between Gaeul and Yujin and the gap is so small that she almost takes a fist to the face. The mistake brings them to a halt.
"See? We need better spacing." Wonyoung demands the point again and stands between the three, explaining how things will have to line up. The four of them flail arms, pointing at their feet, imitating footwork and readjusting as needed.
You'd argue she isn't even the best dancer among them, not that there's much disparity between them. But she's the one who insists they have to be critical or they will never get better. The girls take this school dance club more seriously than anything else in this place. They start from the top again with another countdown and another play from you. It doesn't take long for everyone to get back into the motion. Gaeul turns, Yujin shifts, and Rei steps. This time it all goes buttery smooth.
Hips sway and asses shake. Bodies glimmer with sweat under the studio lights. All their slender figures move with equal parts energy and sensuality. The original choreographer wouldn’t say it, but to say it's seductive wouldn't be wholly incorrect. From the powerful steps to the flowing graceful movements, the whole thing is a pleasure to watch. Every little flourish is alluring and equally mesmerising.
This continues, round and round, over and over and over. Slowly, they iron the kinks. Work out the errors. Find the minor adjustments. All until they're dancing with all the confidence they need to own the stage when the time comes.
The sweat on their bodies soaks in to the tops of their practice outfits. Each movement has their loose strands of hair cling to their faces, necks, shoulders. They're drenched, exhausted, but they keep pushing through the final attempt. The music fades out; they finish. Rei throws herself on the floor. Laying, legs extended and arms resting beside her, she stares at the ceiling for a while with a soft groan.
The other three head toward you (more accurately; their drinks). You lift yourself up onto the bench, taking a seat at the end and handing the bottles to the girls. Wonyoung sits right beside you and leans back against the wall mirror. 
“Good job. That looked great."
"Yeah." Wonyoung barely manages that as her heavy, laboured breath requires most of her focus. She grasps her bottle with trembling fingers.
"That was good," Gaeul confirms as she takes a seat next to Wonyoung.
After handing a bottle to Rei, Yujin stands right in front of you. Drink in one hand and the other resting on her hip, at the waistband of her skin-tight leggings. "What about me? Did I look good? I think I nailed it." Yujin breathes as the words escape her lips. Her heavy lashes lower and gaze at you. A bright smile spread across her pink-tinged, sweat-slicked cheeks.
You reply honestly. "Yeah, you did. Perfect."
Rei lets out a couple of forced coughs to mockingly comment between them; get a room.
Wonyoung snickers at Rei's joke. Her breathing steady and her gaze on Yujin. "Looks like she wants to, don't you, Yujin?"
"You think?" Rei chimes in again.
“I think so," Wonyoung chuckles and swipes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "The changing room is free, but I can't promise I won't walk in."
It's like she insists on making it as awkward as possible. But there's no way she can know about you and Yujin. No. That's impossible. This must just be a coincidence—a light-hearted tease.
"So when's next practice?" Gaeul interrupts, saving you both your blushes. "I can't do any weekend practices, I'm going on a trip."
"Oh right, the fiancé," Wonyoung begins, and you brace yourself, because you know the kinds of things she usually says here. "why him? Isn't he kind of… beneath you?" 
Wonyoung is every bit as blunt and harsh as usual. There's no ambiguity there—no double-meaning or clever innuendo. It's a comment born out of her own distorted view that everyone is beneath her.
Yujin turns round, glaring with her brows raised and silently mouths the words: 'are you serious?'
"I like him," Gaeul answers simply. You'd never met her fiancé but if there's one thing you'd learned about Gaeul in your limited interactions is that she didn't act on whims. If she said yes, it's because she really likes him.
"It's his huge cock, right?" Wonyoung is as brash as ever and Yujin almost chokes on her sip of water. Rei’s head snaps up, and she's staring from her laying position. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s caught in your throat. 
"Maybe," Gaeul cuts through the awkwardness. Everyone pauses. The attention in the room rests on Gaeul, each of them not so subtlely urging her to keep talking. Yujin takes a seat on the ground at your feet, cross-legged, and ready for a story.
Gaeul has one hand scratching at her arm and the other gripping at the bottle in her lap. She hesitates a moment. Maybe she’s busy wondering if she should (or if she dare) say any more. And then she erupts in to a story that pulls no punches. "This one time, me and him got into it pretty heavy and I was deep-throating his—sorry, too graphic?"
There's a collective shake of heads. Even Rei has sat up to listen intently now. Gaeul gives the faintest smile in recognition and she continues.
"So there we were. I'm lying down and deep-throating his cock. I've got him all the way in my throat, and there was still more to go. I just couldn't. As much as I wanted his whole cock in me, it just wouldn't go." Gaeul gives a pout, lamenting her failure. "I tried so hard, I felt like I couldn't do it. Couldn't breathe. I didn't know how, not with that length buried in me. I felt so small, and... I loved it."
Her face is turning a deep shade of vermilion as she relives the memory. Still, her hand squeezes tight around her water bottle and all the others wait for Gaeul to continue. Yujin is leaning forward, hands on her knees, eyes wide and listening closely. Wonyoung looks rather relaxed on her stretch of wall with her head laid against the cool surface. The sweat from her cheeks and brow slowly trickling down. But she's rapt, fixated, awaiting the story.
"The tip hit the back of my throat. I just didn't want it to stop."
As she describes it, her candid description, with no holds barred, the vision her story creates does something to you. Your mind races at the thought that it might have been any woman in Gaeul's position. Yujin. Wonyoung.
Wonyoung.
Her hand is halfway up your thigh, clearly excited at the image Gaeul is painting. You appreciate the gesture, don't misunderstand that, but there's enough sensory overload without having the weight of her fingers pressing into the firm muscle of your thigh. It isn't doing you any favours as the tiny beads of perspiration at Wonyoung's temple burn on her skin and her flush skin glows. There’s no blaming you for the fantasies that form in your mind. Each as naughty as the last.
Yujin.
She's staring out of the corner of her eye, eyes locked with you and a blank expression on her face. And you just wonder, what it would be like to have her mouth wrapped around your cock. It's difficult, staring down the girl you like while the girl you like (and regularly fucking) has a hand on your leg. 
And you just want them both. Right here, right now.
Gaeul continues, "and he's just grabbing at me, palm on my face, gripping my head and he's just fucking my face." You can barely hear her over the beating of your own heart in your eardrum—drumming loudly.
"I must've been choking, and he thought that was hot. He couldn’t stop and I didn’t want him to. He had me pinned, pressing his fingertips into my skin."
Speaking of fingertips, Wonyoung's trace your crotch, blindly roaming and teasing.
"Fuck." Wonyoung's only word—just a whisper from her lips.
Gaeul continues, "I was in heaven." Her eyes are sparkling. They’re glazed over and far-away, lost in the vivid memory. 
"Wow," Rei stares in awe.
Gaeul shuffles around in her seat. First running her hand over her legs, pressed together at the knees, before moving a hand over her waist and pulling at the clingy material of her black yoga pants, that stretch tight across her hips. "So... Um... Yeah I guess you could say I like his huge cock."
Yujin speaks now and her voice cuts straight to your core. "He must love that you're, like, a total submissive slut in bed."
"Sometimes," Gaeul is almost back in the room, no longer enraptured by the memories of being used.
"You must blow him any chance you get," Rei pushes.
"Of course." Gaeul nods. She seems pleased as punch, her mouth spreading into a wide grin.
The words spill from your lips, "what about in public places?" And well, fuck, you meant for it to sound a lot more coy.
"A time or two..." she pauses, puckering her lips as her brows lift together, her head tilts slightly, and her gaze lifts upwards as she wracks her mind. "Well, a few times, if that’s interesting to you."
"Very.” Fuck. “I mean. I'm just curious." Stop talking, idiot.
"Well, the details are a secret for now," she grins toward Wonyoung and Yujin, who share a smile and a look.
"How come I haven't heard about this?" Rei chimes in. "You've got a new story every other week, but not even a whisper of this?"
"Because this is naughty and embarrassing." Gaeul covers her face. She's clearly a confused mixture of turned-on and shy right now. She might be a bit hesitant to share her wilder adventures, but the others aren't at all apprehensive about listening to the dirty details.
"One more," Wonyoung requests. She sits at the edge of her seat with a hand planted on your crotch and the other resting on her knee.
"Another?" Gaeul inquires. "I think it's someone else's turn now."
"Gaeul is right. Yujin, ever done anything naughty in public?" Wonyoung asks, drawing in and passing on the attention.
"Not in public, but..." Yujin stares at you for a moment too long. Clearly, the whole not telling anyone thing doesn’t apply to the girls in this room. It’s all far too obvious. "But I did have some fun recently." She grins like the cat that caught the canary.
"How recently?" Wonyoung cocks her head and a few loose locks fall over her shoulder. "What kind of fun? Who with?"
"Just... some guy. He was a total sub, did everything I told him to." She drags her teeth across the plump swell of her bottom lip.
Some guy? Sometimes it feels like all you will ever be.
"Did what you told him?" Gaeul sounds intrigued. "What did you ask him to do?"
"Don't know," Yujin answers quickly. Too quickly. "Nothing much. Just something special for me." Her teeth are back against her lower lip, chewing on it before continuing. "Thing is, he’s a cute guy, and he was a real natural.”
"Did you cum?" Rei jumps in again, straight to the point.
"More than once." Yujin's face lit up. “I didn't let him fuck me, though. You should have seen the desperate look on his face.”
“Did you even let him cum? Poor guy.” Gaeul sympathises unnecessarily, and unknowingly, with you.
“I did, made him blow a load right on me.”
“Oh fuck, I love that.” Rei chimes in with an approving nod. “On my body makes me feel so hot.”
“I'm a face girl myself.” Gaeul admits before bursting out into embarrassed laughter.
Wonyoung stays noticeably quiet on this one. Of course, you know why. ‘Too messy’, she always told you.
“Yeah, we know all about that,” laughs Rei at Gaeul.
God only knows how you ended up in this situation. Sitting between four women, all gorgeous in their own way, each getting equally aroused by the topic of conversation. The atmosphere in the room, so humid and hot already, has seemed to intensify tenfold in the moments since Gaeul began her sordid tale. Now, with each question and subsequent answer, it was building steadily, the sexual tension increasing in magnitude with each word. The heat of their sweat-soaked bodies permeates the air with the burn of the midday sun.
"You didn’t even get fucked? You're no fun, Yujin. I need detail." Wonyoung is feeding off the stories and expelling the energy through her touch into your cock. You pull your knees up now, to try to hide what Wonyoung is doing to you. "Rei. Save us. Please give us something juicy."
"I uh, well..." The nerves in her face are clear. Rei is more than happy to press details from others, but now she's in the spotlight. "There was this guy I met online. I don't even know his name. He just went by an emoji."
"An emoji?" the other three girls say in unison.
"Yeah. An orange. Anyway, not important. So, we met up." Her hands run along her bare thighs, feeling the sticky heat of her palms and the cool beads of sweat along her smooth legs. "I kinda asked him to... I mean, it wasn't explicitly—" She begins her excuses as though her asking this anonymous man to come meet her was shameful. Her fumbling words get a giggle out of Yujin.
"Calm down, Rei, no-one is judging." Gaeul gives her friend an easy smile. 
"This was just to hook up and no strings. He had a hotel room." Rei rubs at her neck. Blush overcomes her face.
"Love that vibe." Gaeul holds up a lazy thumb of approval. "The no-strings thing."
"So this wasn't a vanilla fucking, I bet. Did things get wild?" Wonyoung asks as she squeezes her grip on your cock in excitement. "Were there handcuffs or leashes involved? What was it, a spanking? Maybe even gotten yourself a strap, Rei?"
"Oh my god," the embarrassment hits Rei even stronger, even more colour blossoming into her skin, "you're unbelievable," she manages. "So, uh. Not that exactly."
"Yeah? Well, do tell," Gaeul smiles politely. "Might pick up some ideas for my fiancé."
"So there were handcuffs," Rei mutters, then shrugs in an almost nonchalant gesture.
"Yes!" Wonyoung whisper-shouts. "Nice. Let me guess, tied up and whipped." Her hand is the most motionless it has been on your clothed cock the entire time. As if it's frozen in anticipation.
"He restrained me. Cuffed me to the bed. Had his way with me," Rei reveals. It's obvious now she was looking anywhere but in your direction. "The guy was packing too. And knew what he was doing. My whole body was shaking, legs like jelly," she continued, eyes glassy, dreamy even, a thin film covering their beauty, staring ahead without focus. Her nails tap idly at her neck, like she is recalling the memory.
"Fuuuck," Wonyoung swears loudly. "That’s good." She can only speak in hushed tones now, the heat having sapped her strength and turned her speech breathy.
Wonyoung rolls her hips back. Just the slightest bit. But enough for you to feel it, a soft brush across the side of your leg. A brief acknowledgement of contact. An assurance, to you, that Wonyoung hadn't forgotten you or the movements of her hands.
"Shut up," Rei blushes at her friend.
"Look, you're squeezing your thighs together now. Just thinking about this mysterious Mr Orange is turning you on. You sure you're not dripping now?"
"Alright Wony, you're making it weird now." Yujin laughs at her, breaking some of the tension. "Sounds like you need to get laid. Still not doing anything with that boyfriend of yours?" The whole question rolls of her tongue while she’s staring at you. You’re caught in some unspoken, twisted game.
"Nope. Never will. You know I don't like him." Wonyoung’s words are ice cold. You never pushed for details on it, but you have picked up on bits and pieces of this before. As best you understand, her family pushed the relationship on her. He's some wealthy heir from another chaebol family. They never loved each other, or even knew each other properly. The relationship was purely political. Strategic.
"I have to go," Gaeul speaks while frantically tapping away on her phone. It's painfully obvious to everyone in the room what’s happening and where she's going. Her fiance is probably already getting the cuffs ready. But she doesn't seem to care to hide it and, to be frank, she cannot be the only person excited about the prospect of sex right now.
"You two girls should probably go too. I'm going to stay and work on my form a little." Wonyoung turns to face you. "And you're going to help me, right?"
"Of course, whatever you need." You respond automatically, feeling almost obligated at this point. Yujin chuckles at you. Probably internally mocking just how easy you really are. Just like how she described you earlier. Total sub.
"Okay, see you." Gaeul stands abruptly. “I need to—”
“We know.” The rest of you say together. She nods her head and then is heading for the door in a rush, collecting her stuff messily under her arm. She drops her hat at the door and stops to pick it up. While bending down, she looks back at the four of you.
“Have fun!” Rei calls out with genuine excitement.
Gaeul nods again and spins, rushing out the door.
Rei moves slower to leave, reluctant, almost. But once Yujin stands and is gathering her things, Rei follows suit. 
“Aren't you supposed to be taking us home?” Yujin looks at you. She already knows how this will play out, but she wants to make her point.
“You could always wait outside for him.” Wonyoung responds for you with a cocky smile. There's no way she is letting you go.
“Why do you need him, anyway?” Rei asks.
“Rei, sweetie, look at her hand.” Yujin turns to her but gestures her hand out towards you—towards your lap. 
“Oh. OH!” You can see in her face that she has so many questions, but the stare from Wonyoung makes her keep her mouth shut.
“Let's go,” Yujin places a hand on Rei's shoulder.
The two girls are walking away from you, and all you can do is watch their asses leave. Leggings hug one, the other in shorts, both thick. Plump asses, firm thighs, wide hips. The stretchy material of their clothing barely constrains them.
"Alright, now let's get down to business." Wonyoung immediately shifts to sit astride your thigh. It's not that she doesn't know that Rei and Yujin will spend their whole journey home talking about you two. It's just that she doesn't care. 
She's straddling you. Her own leg pinning against your hard bulge. Wonyoung rolls herself along you, sending pleasure radiating in ripples throughout your body. Wonyoung smiles mischievously. "We've got half an hour, maybe."
Her hot breath hitting your face. It's hard to be sure how much of it is from her arousal and how much from the intense dancing not ten minutes ago.
"Fuck, that was so hot. The idea of Gaeul getting her pretty mouth fucked." Wonyoung lets out a satisfied sigh as she sinks her hips against your clothed leg. "Did you see her face? I bet she was creaming at just the memory."
Wonyoung's fingers slip under your waistband, then her hand follows them, wrapping around you and pumping. "You liked it." The confirmation is in her hand, but the grin on her face grows, evidently pleased to find your arousal. She licks her lip hungrily and gives a slow pump of her hand. "That's perfect. I really need a cock right now. In my throat."
As she says it, she backs off your lap, stands and steps away. Just a slight separation, but the difference is enormous: the absence of her hot, wet centre creates a vacuum—impossible to ignore.
She's already twisting around on her heels. Then she pulls her tight, tiny shorts down and takes her thong with them, squatting slightly to pass the clothes over her legs, leaving her bare ass in front of your face. She turns back to you, wearing only her skin tight tank top. Her sodden cunt is now right there, bare and as pretty as ever. "Clothes off."
Obedient and efficient, you pull at the bottom of your shirt to lift it over your head. There's no slow tease, just business: you lift your hips and pull off your shorts and underwear together, while kicking off your shoes.
"Get up," is her instruction, the stern bite on her voice only seeming to harden her demeanour. Wonyoung takes your place on the bench, sitting delicately, like an idol would. Cross-legged and her hands atop her knee. Her top still hugging her frame. She raises one hand and angles a single finger towards you, her wrist pointing to the ceiling. She beckons you, parting her plump lips and resting her head against the mirror behind her.
Mouth, Wonyoung signals again and, with that, you're moving towards her.
Wonyoung demands your attention. Everything about her is inviting: the playful half-lidded gaze as her tongue swirls in her mouth and she lets it roll slowly along her lip. Even just the sharp cut of her jaw and long strands that frame it are striking and you'll be the last one to object to giving her what she asks for.
“Wony—”
"Shh." A sharp sound. Her lips purse. Inviting. "come here."
Without a sound, your stiff cock presses toward Wonyoung's silky-smooth face. Though her lips are glistening and begging for you to glide in, they rest unmoving, arrogantly waiting for you to do the work. It is only for a brief moment, but it's infuriatingly unhelpful. The silence breaks though, and she groans in a mix of anticipation and irritation and tilts her face up, angling her hips against the edge of the bench as a soft hiss escaped her lips. "Now."
Your hand tangles into her hair as she wraps her mouth around you—wet, warm and oh-so very inviting. And she wastes no time in pushing forward and dragging your head in deeper, enveloping you, with her tongue sliding on the underside of your length. And she hums gently, the vibrations reaching you and rippling through the depths of your groin. She is eager for your cock, her hands reaching and clawing. A controlling grasp on your hips.
Your hands remain firmly wound into the strands of her hair, gripping as if you are afraid of floating away, all the blood in your system rushing to your centre, dizzying your brain. She began pulling your hips against her, directing the movements and ensuring each pump brought another inch into her mouth. She continues eagerly. Wonyoung's technique was a blend of savouring and indulgence, an incarnation of sheer passion.
Even from beneath you, Wonyoung maintains all power. She guides you without the slightest hint of effort. The flex of her shoulder, the flow of her arm. She pulls you in.
Deeper.
Every pump bringing your hips closer and closer to her face. Every move is for her, from the angle of her head to the arch of her spine and even the hollowing of her cheeks. She owns the power in your body—and she wants it that way too, drawing you ever deeper, encouraging more movement, silently coaxing and promising a glorious reward at the end.
Keep going. Words unspoken but never more clearly conveyed. The flutter of her eyelids and the fire they temporarily conceal. Her throat contracting against the tip of your cock every time she guides you in. The warm comfort of the excess saliva running from her lower lip.
Eyes fixed on her pretty face and innocent gaze through the not-so-innocent act. Everything around you in a haze.
Deeper.
Captivating. Her movements never waiver and her determination is infallible as your mind clouds and you feel that coil in your belly tighten and constrict and burn through. You know this can't last forever. No matter how much you wish it could, but you're lost in the trance and there's nothing that could break you out of it—except maybe Yuj—fuck, not now.
Wonyoung stops, throwing you a look as if she knows. As if she felt the doubt inside you. She parts her lips and draws her head back.
In a move that washes away all those doubts, Wonyoung brings right leg over left and follows through the movement, lifting her legs onto the bench, feet flat and knees in the air. Back flat against the bench. Head suspended from the end of it.
You're on autopilot, following her face down, your soaked cock leading the way. You shift, putting your knees on the hardwood floor.
She puckers her lips, closing her eyes and arching her back. Wonyoung lures you in. Her tongue curls and reels you inside her mouth. Just an inch and then two, then three, then four. Your eyes revel at the sight. The mirror to your side only elevates the experience as you watch your cock disappear in her. Two Wonyoungs laid side by side, taking two cocks.
Wonyoung continues arching as you push on. Further and further and further.
Deeper.
Until... no more.
Until her eyes squeeze shut and the walls of her throat clenches, seizing down on you.
A strangled moan rasps in your throat as you lunge forward, trying desperately, selfishly, to press beyond the possible. You could lose to her right here and now. 
Not now, no, not yet, not without fucking that tight little throat first.
Her throat bulging with the girth of your cock, her muscles desperately attempting to repel the foreign invasion.
Air is at a premium for the petite girl strewn out on the end of your cock. And yet, she settles, relaxes. She feels at home with a throat full of cock. Her long, slender legs remain folded together, yet while you were caught up in the intensity of entering her mouth, Wonyoung found the time to bury a hand between her thighs.
She's fucking her own hand. Rotating her hips and squeezing her thighs.
You draw out of her mouth, only for a second, just to give her the gasp of air she so desperately needs before you fuck into her throat again. Her legs clench as you thrust. Every little bit of pleasure that Wonyoung desires, she gets—as always.
There it is again, the vibrations against your tip as she moans.
Your fists full of hair and now, you pound into her pretty little mouth without pause. Creating the lewdest of sights. Wonyoung on the verge of orgasm, her face filled with you. 
She's only becoming more of a mess as you fuck it, the saliva pouring from her mouth running over her. You keep going for so long that she’s spluttering. She’s choking now between the brief moments you give her, just like Gaeul was in her story. This is what Wonyoung wants, exactly how she wanted it. 
It’s funny that for a girl so intent on you not making a mess of her, this is what she has become. She just has to really want it. Duly noted.
And god, is she fucking loving it. The pleasure washes over her as her body wriggles, and you continue your thrusting. She continues her own. Together, you take her to her peak. And you don't stop. Her hand doesn't stop—pushing past it, forcing herself into a state of bliss.
It's messier still. It's so fucking messy when she cums. Tears streaming. Saliva drooling. Sticky cum enveloping her hand.
And it's good. It's so fucking good when she moans on your cock. It's soft. It's tight. It vibrates, sucks—holds you and stimulates you. Her throat is—if only for a moment—the best sex toy that money can’t buy.
You have to give it to her, she’s playing the role of toy perfectly.
This toy? It plays with you.
She pushes her hand against the base of your cock. No more fucking. No more exploring the depth of her delicate throat. She had just came, after all.
That’s what matters to her.
You—you're on the edge and hanging on for dear life. The knot is twisted so tight that it hurts. And holding you on that edge is Wonyoung, holding you by the cock. An unmoving hand. If you weren't already on your knees, you would fall to them.
"Fuck, that was good." Wonyoung peeks around the cock she holds above her face, a wry smile painting her lips.
You want to reply, but your need to cum is clouding your mind like the most powerful of drugs. Words are just letters floating around your mind. Intoxicated by a woman, as you have been so many times. She's not just any woman.
"What's wrong? Aww, do you want to cum?" She playfully, with no real grip, twists and pulls her hand on your cock. It's not enough.
You let out a huff and nod.
She flashes an evil grin. "How about on my face?"
It's not something she's ever offered before. As much as you thought, so many times, about covering her pretty face in your cum, you never expected her to offer it. Perhaps that alone should serve as a warning. Too good to be true.
But at this point, you don't give a fuck. In her throat, on her face, you just need her to give you a sweet release. You chase it, pushing your hips towards her hands, desperately searching for friction. Blinded by lust, as dumb as a dog.
"First, tell me something." It says a lot about her. How she can be mostly naked, on her back underneath you, freshly fucked throat and all. And somehow she holds all the cards in this situation. "Did you fuck Yujin?"
"No..." It's not strictly a lie. You never put your cock inside her.
"I saw your dirty faces, the way you look at each other. And the way she told that story, about you, with you right there."
"Wonyoung. We didn't fuck. But even if we did, would that be so bad?"
"But she let you cum on her?” Wonyoung laughs aloud and starts playfully stroking your cock again. "You should have fucked her."
The action of her hand is torture, keeping you dangling and off balance. You were so close to the release and now she is holding you over the precipice, with no warning of a fall either way. You're as lost for words as you are for action. But truthfully, is it even a surprise that Wonyoung doesn't care if you do fuck her friend? She is the one cheating on her boyfriend, after all. Your only crime may be not telling her first.
"Now, will you cum on my face already? I know Yujin will never let you do this." And that’s it. The crux of it all. It all makes sense, doesn’t it? The reason this is happening, any of this here in this room, is because she refuses to be outshone. She intends to match act for act with all her friends, except Yujin. Yujin, she wants to beat—and the game is you.
And the irony is, she would never let her boyfriend do any of this.
"Fuck, Wony, you're insane," you grit, nearly delirious. This couldn't get any better. Two identical hot girls, mirrored and now they're getting even more adventurous. And Wonyoung finally ready to give you the satisfaction of blowing a load on her face? You couldn’t care less why it was happening, only that it was.
You fucking into her grip. In some metaphor for the whole relationship, your hips do work while her hand guides, keeping you aimed at her innocent face. She softly closes her eyes, slightly parting her lips. Waiting. She looks so beautiful, relaxed and comfortable, despite knowing what was coming. Despite the saliva still running from her mouth. Despite the post orgasm glow on her face.
"Anytime now." Wonyoung opened one eye, her face still pointing directly upwards. "Don’t make me ask again."
The feeling takes over, starting at the root of your spine, in the base of your gut, and bubbling like a cauldron ready to explode. Her soft hand strokes harder, working you the last few paces as her tongue slips past her pink lips, flicking over them gently.
The sensations erupt. That familiar hot-cold tingle. Those electrifying nerves firing off. You buck wildly, firing off ribbons of cum across Wonyoung's flawless, innocent face. Her lips spread apart in a wide open-mouthed gasp and then shut immediately afterwards.
And, amidst the spurting of cum and the euphoric high, Wonyoung deviously began licking, slurping, sucking. Swiping the fluid off her lips, catching every shot. Her face is the image of debauchery. You're fixated—stretching out the few remaining seconds of orgasm as your cock twitches in her hand and on her face. She's draining you dry with her naughty smirk.
Even when it’s over and done, she maintains that same confident look on her face. Her nose and lips are shiny and dripping with cum. But she never hesitates; her mouth parts and her tongue juts out, curling up to you. Your cock disappears inside, a wet-hot paradise. She's cleaning you. Swirling her tongue and sliding up the length, pulling off the mess. Sucking on the tip to coax the last remnants to pool inside her waiting mouth.
Your body burns. Satisfaction seeping out your limbs and leaving your body weightless, barely holding yourself over her on the wooden bench.
She draws you out. Dripping with her spit. Hanging heavy. Sensitive as her mouth lets go and pulls back, the suction releasing. Then, lips tight, mouth closing, her neck moving as she swallows.
Wonyoung twists and rises, sitting again the bench, in your kneeled position this leaves you eye to eye.
Pain. Stinging.
So much of it on your left cheek.
She just slapped you. She fucking slapped you. You're bigger than her, stronger than her, and yet you feel so small.
"Next time you fool around with another girl, you get my permission first."
Her voice is icy. You shake your head, holding your face. Staring at your reflection in the mirror; you're flush but one cheek is redder than the other. And you can see her too. She’s pulling up part of her top, wiping away most of your cum—the bits that didn’t already fall onto her body or into her hair, anyway. Her face looks like an angel's, but her actions betraying the illusion.
"Now make it up to me." She's looking at you through the reflection. Then, turning and facing you directly, she reaches out to hold you by the jaw, pulling your focus back to her. It’s hard to believe that she’s the one cheating here.
She slaps you again.
You're locked in a cold and silent stare. Tied together by tension. 
You're stunned. Left at her mercy. Wonyoung dips her head forward, going in for a kiss, her heart-shaped lips plant directly on your own and before you know it, you're returning the kiss.
It's rough, and it's messy. She bites at you—hard—while her fingers claw your skin, running along your muscles. All until suddenly she pulls you, guides you. Not physically, but that's certainly what it feels like. Such is your response. You take her place on the bench, sitting while she leans over you.
Wonyoung breaks the kiss and leaves you to watch the scene unfold and admire her perfect form, lithe and slender but not without toned definition, which is exactly why she could pull off outfits that would send men insane, simply based on how she looks underneath.
Her hands splay across her flawless flesh. Deliberately. Slowly.
Never a movement out of place and ensuring her head is held high and regal—a queen's demeanour.
Standing over you. Looking down upon you, no less arrogant than before. It’s her natural position. Her default state. To have power over man.
If she didn't look so angelic, you'd swear she's a devil.
Starting at her shoulders, fingertips slipping over the porcelain skin of her arms until they reach the elbows and hop over to her waist, gripping the hem of her tank top. It doesn't sit as tight as it did before—bunched up, a little twisted, and dashed in cum. It doesn't sit in any fashion for much longer as she pulls it overhead in a single motion. The top lands discarded and forgotten. Her hair, damp and ruffled, now cascades over her petite shoulders in thick strands.
She's bare now. Head to toe. Your eyes dart all over, drinking her beauty like a tall glass of water. Taking in all her stunning details—she is a perfect portrait of a perfect woman, a fantasy even.
This image has been burned into your mind many times over. Yet somehow, each and every time feels new. Awestruck, you admire her petite body, the lean and firm muscles, and just enough of a pair of breasts that gravity calls their name.
"Wony. You're so—"
"I know." She cocks an arrogant smirk.
"I think—"
"I know." She stalks slowly closer. Like a predator over its prey.
"I want to—"
"Oh. I know." She's so damn cute when she giggles. It almost feels inappropriate for what's going down. And then the little devil rears within her again, manifesting in her expression. Darker than it was before.
Her fingers trace her flat stomach, rising and falling in time with her breaths. A cadence to them which tells a story of excitement, no less excited than the first time she teased you in your car. Now here, and over a month later, you still haven't gotten your fill. Even this—maybe especially this—could never be enough. The slightest and subtlest hints of arousal are beautiful on her. She's practically purring when she perches on top of you and pins you back against the mirror by the shoulders.
"Who does your big dick belong to?" She poses the question while delicately lowering herself onto you, staring into your eyes. You hesitate to answer, too stricken by the image of Wonyoung finding a comfortable seat on you.
"You." No matter what your relationship might be or who else was involved, in this moment, like so many before it, you are hers and no other. "Fuck me, Wonyoung, please."
"So very needy." The words roll off her tongue as the heat of her cunt skates up toward your middle. So close against your skin, you can feel her pulse throb against your stomach. Her petite ass pressing down onto your stiff cock. Her hands spread wide and palms flat on your chest, steadying her, giving her strength. Her hips roll, coating you with the wetness between her thighs. Back arched, neck strained, head tilting upwards. Every muscle flexes in her exposed form.
She is unadulterated eroticism, every grind of her hips and caress of her hands. An utter marvel.
"Don't. Move." Every word has her breath caught in her throat.
Been through this so many times before that there's an unspoken understanding. Wonyoung scoots her body over you. Hand reaching for your cock. Delicate fingers. Dainty, as she grips it, guiding, angling it against her. Lower, lower until—she finds the entrance and presses it against herself. A sharp intake of air. Her eyes squeezed closed. She holds there for a second until gravity takes control, hips dropping to impale her onto your length.
Your eyes roll back and so does your mind, back to the view of Wonyoung's body moving during the dance. Does she know she's mirroring those mesmerising hip movements on you? Maybe not. But it doesn't change anything. Not to Wonyoung. She does it so naturally—the consummate performer, who knows what works.
You're looking down. Down. Down to where she's perched on your dick. Admiring her tight cunt, working so hard to take you in. Muscles gripping. Walls clenching. Stretching to fit. Working her body downward.
Her ass never rests on you. This is all her work. Perpetual motion. Constant and consistent. Down and then up and then down and back up. Gradual. Calculated and controlled. Fingers raking at your chest as the motion of her body doubles as the dance, sending that intoxicating swaying motion through her and into you.
Eyes travel up. How her toned abs flex. Trim and petite. It all only serves to highlight just how pretty a figure she cuts. Elegant and alluring. Sinking down, squeezing you into her.
Higher. Her perky little tits in front of your face. Smooth, perfect, porcelain.
Higher. Her sharp collarbone, all the little contours, carved for her as though by the most brilliant artisan.
Higher. Neck curved, shifting from her swallow and gasp.
To her blood-red lips. They part and between them her tongue flicks, hitting her front teeth before she bites down on her lower lip. It stifles a soft moan until it's barely a whisper.
And her eyes. Sheer focus. Not on you. But on the mirror behind you.
On her own reflection.
All the time you spend to admire her, she is doing the same thing. Staring herself up and down. It is selfish and greedy. An egotistical desire. An intimate moment—with the person she truly loves most.
It's narcissism taken to a degree you've never seen before. An addictive kind of worship. For both of you.
"Wony..." holding your eyes up to hers, watching her as she's watching herself. She looks like a goddess. "Does it feel good? I love the feeling of my cock inside you," you say in an attempt to gain her focus. "Fuck. You're perfect."
A soft exhale as her eyes lock onto yours for just a moment, then her lashes flutter closed.
She takes a hand from your chest and plants it over your mouth. Her eyes flicker back to life and she's got them on the mirror again.
She's aggressive now. The girl in the mirror is hitting her hips harder than before onto the cock beneath her. Her crotch hitting against your own. You can't help but steer into the skid, being the silent participant she desires. You're pawing your hands at her cunt now. Figuring out then matching her rhythm and pushing your finger against her clit. It's obscene, hearing her wet cunt smacking against your legs.
Her almost silent focus breaks. She's not stifling her moans anymore.
And fuck you for saying this: but watching her watch herself makes the moment fucking magical.
Her eyebrows knitting as the tides of pleasure crash over her. Her lower lip quivering. The wrinkles on her nose. Her chest fluttering. A struggle to maintain her posture.
She's shaking. From her arms to her knees and through to the tips of her fingers.
She throws herself forward against you.
Head on your shoulder. Her forehead against the glass.
Wonyoung's entire body is convulsing on you. A string of incomprehensible cries echoing against the empty walls. You grab at the flesh of her ass with your hands, clamping her tight, encouraging her to keep pushing back into you and ride out the orgasm. She is shaking violently in your embrace. She is grinding, squeezing, tightening, and quaking all at once.
You run a hand up her moist back, along her spine. Meeting many moistened locks of hair, sticking to her skin. You hold your hand at the top of her back, supporting her limp frame against you.
Her mouth is right by your ear. You listen to the final quiet noises of bliss escaping her. Washing out of her. She lets you know just how good it was, if not from those satisfied groans and the shuddering of her body, then from the deluge of her arousal pooling around your cock and her cunt. She is dripping cum. Hot and sticky, in more than one spot. It was messy. Messy, but it was unbridled fun.
"What the fuck was that?" you whisper. She raises her head off your shoulder and leans back, sitting tall on top of you. Still, your cock is inside, throbbing and ready for its turn. Her hands snake to your jaw and hold it tightly.
"Exactly what I needed."
"And the mirror thing?"
"What can I say? I look pretty when I'm fucking." Wonyoung laughs, soft and breathy, an intimate moment shared only by you two. Now it’s not like you should be surprised by any of it. On a scale of one to ten, Wonyoung is an eleven, though you imagine you asked her. She would give herself a twelve.
The hands leave your jaw, only to be replaced with the pressure of Wonyoung pressing forward again to kiss you. More? Finally.
"You wanna cum again?" she asks, words separated by kisses before moving to your neck.
"Mmmm..." is all the answer you can give, distracted by the feeling of her body shifting against yours.
Wonyoung pulls back from your neck to look at you, burrowing her hand into the hair at the back of your head. She squeezes into a fist, forcing a grimace of pain from you, which brings a grin to her lips.
"Is that a yes?" Her voice a blade edge against your ears.
"Fuck. Yes. Of course."
"That's what I thought." The sly girl, hiding the self-assured vixen underneath her exquisite exterior. "Stand. I want you to fuck me against the mirror."
Still planted to the hilt inside her, you begin to stand.
You're unable to pull out of the tight wet warmth that is Jang Wonyoung. Her grip tight on you—coiling around your cock—effectively pinning you in her. Her body melts against you like candle wax. Warm and lax.
She's weightless as you stand, her slender frame clasped around your body. It's easy to manhandle a girl this small—one of your hands, pressed firmly to her back, can encompass her tiny waist. Your other arm hooks under her ass, holding her suspended. And, for the time being, all of her is draped over and around you.
You press her to the cold mirror, and she shudders, arching her back. Her entire body stretches as if trying to get further from it—leaving a smear of sweat on it. Legs lock around your hips. Folded tight. Locking in the key. Caging you between her thighs. You hold her with a single hand now—curling it under her tiny ass. Fingertips gripping, digging into flesh. The other against the mirror—for balance.
You bend your knees, taking position, gaining posture. The slightest movement it causes inside her brings a gasp. She's clinging tighter to you. Her arms coil around your shoulders, her ankles crossed around the small of your back, her core tightening and squeezing her pelvis forward—grinding herself into you. The squeeze on your cock exhilarates. The pressure is immense—inside and outside. You've never had her this tight.
A rumble rasps through your vocal chords as a growl escapes your mouth. It vibrates against the warmth of her neck and into her small frame.
"Come on, give it to me, don’t hold back" her lips barely move as they whisper against you.
"Is that what you want, Wonyoung? You want me to fuck you as hard as I can against the mirror?" Your hips press firmly against hers. Her tight cunt does its best to embrace you.
"Fuck. Yes."
That was all the cue you needed, drawing back and then slamming yourself deep in her—and back again—forming the thrust into a series of unforgiving blows.
She bounces between your pelvis and the cool glass, rattling as her naked form is hit against the mirror. Small, supple and yielding, taking your full force, each movement amplified and exaggerated in her tiny frame. Her cries—from shock, surprise, pleasure, and delight—they echo. The lewd smacks of flesh hitting, the loud moans and the heat. It all collides right here on the wall of the studio.
It's frantic. It's furious. It's fucking euphoric. You're locked inside a beauty who is getting filled to the absolute brim by your cock. It's a power rush—Wonyoung's eternal play on control and dominance being robbed from her and your ability to just keep pounding into her tight, wet cunt.
"Ah!" Wonyoung winces. You pause for a brief second. Did she really mean stop? But a moment later, her lips curl into a grin, "Yes! Harder! Don't hold back. I need you to wreck my fucking pussy!"
And it begins anew—all the noise. The bouncing, slamming and swearing. And despite the fire and the fury, you can sense a strange calm. Like this is exactly where the two of you are supposed to be. This is exactly where the both of you always needed to be. Right here. In the moment. Because Wonyoung doesn't need a man and she didn't need someone who would fall at her feet and treat her like royalty—she has enough of those. No, all she ever needed was a dick who could fuck her within an inch of her life.
A hard slam sends Wonyoung crashing back to the mirror with a shrill yelp and a wide grin. "Yes! Exactly like that!"
Firm fingers twist into your flesh, her hands clawing, desperately grasping at anything she could find to ground her, all while your brutal assault continues unabated, sending waves of ecstasy cascading through both bodies. Her wails rise and break—crescendos interrupted—but never stopped. Both of you are a complete mess as the furious fuck brings out everything each of you are. The deep animalistic desires. And when you hear her scream, it is a different kind of high.
"Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop! Don't fucking sto—mm!" she struggles and gasps for breath, struggling to keep track of her words, the raging bonfire between her legs clouding her mind. "F-fuck..."
"Cumming? Cum." The only words you could manage. You could feel it too, the rising tide. A mountain climber, clinging to the peak, each and every muscle engaged in the fight.
"Yes—" her breath is snatched before another animalistic moan. "Don't stop." She pulls at your hair, claws at your back, a fierce warning. "Don't fucking cum yet."
She holds, gripping onto the ridge, the muscles in her arms, in her legs, her hands tense. The world turns, spinning, and spiralling—the two of you holding tight to one another, both grunting with the strain. She is cumming now, you know it. She spasms against you, against the mirror, and she’s becoming ever more difficult to hold.
Your feet are failing you, threating to give way. In a desperate act, you spin from the wall, drop to your knees, taking Wonyoung with you. There's no stopping you now. Feral. Bestial. Both of your bodies crashing together. She's arching, clawing, and pulling and urging you forward. On the hardwood floors, you fuck like animals. Your legs may have given way, but your hips don't surrender. Don't succumb to the exertion. You're fucking her in to the floor. Her tiny ass pressed against it.
The thundering smack of flesh.
Tumultuous breathing and roaring, unbroken moans.
Arching, bending.
Heating and rising.
You're right on the edge.
She never lets you finish inside.
"Wonyoung, I..."
"Don't fucking dare." Her voice sharp. You hold on to the feeling for dear life. "On me."
It's enough. You accept that it’s never in her. Never before on her, but now twice in a day. It’s enough. She can't possibly mean it...
"I'm—Fuck, I'm..."
"On me. Yes. Cum allover me." She releases you from her grasp and you pull back to your knees. She spreads herself for you. Arms out to her side, palms flat on the hardwood floors, legs pulled apart with her knees resting on your hips. Presenting for you.
Your hand wraps around your shaft, throbbing and hot to touch. You beat your cock for a few quick seconds, with balls tight, with Wonyoung laid prone for you, watching you stroke your cock. 
Watching her. She arches, presses herself upwards, offering her breasts, her stomach... her face.
You don't have any time to think. It is happening.
You unload on her with a sharp grunt, met with a shocked gasp. Coating her petite form. The white stuff gliding across her porcelain skin, decorating the gorgeous girl beneath you. The lean cut of a dancer, now adorned in your cum. You shoot ropes of it across her perky little tits and narrow stomach and her pretty face. A sticky sheen glazes her and drips down. Her tongue flickers, collecting what she can and her mouth hungrily welcomes each droplet.
What's this, you wonder? Is this to be her addiction?
Every motion of her body screams need, sexual need. She wants it all, greedily licking and lapping it up as you drop the final rivulets of cum onto her tummy.
You're captivated as you watch Wonyoung, laying patiently under a sputtering of cum, a thin layer glossing parts her body. She didn't bother to wipe it or scoop it up, instead; it ran down her, following the channels carved out by her subtle contours. A work of art in your eyes—this pretty face, contorted in twisted lust—at the feeling of hot, sticky fluid painting her perfect body.
In all these moments you two have shared, this truly is a first. A messy, debauched cum covered Wonyoung.
"Does it feel good to cover me with your cum?"
You nod.
"Say it. Out loud, I can see it in your eyes. You like seeing your cum on my pretty little face? On my body?"
"I fucking love it, Wony," you mutter and she laughs, a laugh somewhere between playful and impish.
"I feel filthy," Wonyoung confesses with a devilish smirk. "I bet you love to hear that?"
"Yes. Yes," you breathe the words out as you desperately try to catch your breath. Her leg comes up, sliding her toes along the underside of your sensitive cock. Too sensitive.
"Agh," you flinch. "Fuck."
She pushes the tip of your cock against your stomach, rubbing her toes on it and you start to pull away, the friction causing pain.
"Stay." Her tone is a firm demand, in control of the situation—despite her current state. Your body obeys the instruction. Her toes start to roam across your softening cock again. Slick with her fluids. She twists, rubbing the shaft. Pinches, rubbing the head. Pulls, tugging down. The intensity of stimulation is mind numbing. A sick mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Who's the best?" Wonyoung asks. It takes a few seconds to process, a delay, and longer than normal. Your brain fogged. Too much to even formulate words.
"Who's the best, hm? Answer me." Her demand is no louder but feels heavier. Her foot slides down your cock, pushing at the base, pushing at your balls. 
Your words are slow to follow.
"Wonyo—" she presses more, and a shock runs up the base of your spine. "Agh...you. Wonyoung, you." Your words choke up. "You're the best."
"Thought so."
Another moment of silent pause. She puckers her lips, sucking up and swallowing a patch of your cum that found it’s way to her hand. It draws your eyes to her, a silent spectacle. She locks on you, her gaze so steady and so piercing.
"And, who's going to clean this mess up so we don't get caught?"
"Me." The words tumble out, falling off your lips.
"Good. Your bathroom is down the hall. Don't get caught, and don't leave a trace." She recoils her foot and then climbs out of the mess the two of you left on the floor. Her step is awkward. Your load is now starting to harden on her. Her calves slick from her own cum. The gloss of it shining on her skin.
All the time, her face beaming. Satisfied and glowing. Wonyoung is relishing her depraved state. She doesn't wait for you to follow. Not even a look as she collects her clothes. Her shorts with the thong. Her completely ruined tank top. Both shoes. She starts to walk, again with that awkward gait.
After only a couple of steps she looks over her shoulder, back at you, still subdued on the floor. "By the way. That was your best yet. That… was amazing." She smiles softly and heads to the changing room. She disappears. Leaving your mind and your imagination to swirl as you stare at her spot on the floor long after she was gone.
The cum, her sweat, the stickiness—all the marks that prove she was there, the evidence that paints a picture of what went on in this dance studio.
You never see her leave. She must have slipped out between trips to and from the bathroom, and then the janitor's closet, which you eventually found. You thank the stars for Wonyoung's privilege—that meant no staff are needed on the evenings she is here.
What a strange silence it was as you cleaned—nothing but the rain outside. An unsettling contrast between what went on before. Almost tranquil—like that weird place just before waking, before reality has time to assert itself and erase the dream of the night before. 
***
"It's dance practice tonight. I take it you'll be there again, following Wonyoung as usual?" Yujin mocks you playfully while playing with her straw between her delicate fingers. Her glass half-full of milkshake which she lazily stirs and drinks. Drinks loudly with a slurp on the straw.
"Don't you want me there?" you reply after swallowing the last bite of your meal and setting down your cutlery. The cafeteria is as lively as ever. Aside from this particular table, where it's only the two of you. It's not the type of table just anyone can take a seat at—Wonyoung wouldn't allow it.
"Doesn't matter. Wony's the one that invited you."
"She just wants me to—"
"Wants you to fuck her. Yeah, we all know." Yujin lets go of her straw, and it settles into the milkshake. You both lean back in the plastic cafeteria seats. She crosses her arms. "And no, it's not that I'm jealous. Don't even try it."
"I didn't say anything." You show her the palms of your hands. Not guilty is your plea.
"At least if I hang around, I can take you guys home, right? No need for your father to send a car." Always the people pleaser, you are.
"And did that happen last week? No, it didn't." Yujin picks up her drink and takes a slurp from the straw while staring at you. It's hard to tell if she's actually annoyed at you. Her words would say so, but her tones remain calm and soft when she speaks.
Besides, she knows that she could just as easily make the same demands Wonyoung does, and you'd be on your knees for her in a second.
But it's been 8 whole days since that night at Yujin's house. And she's yet to even hint that she wants it to happen again. The more you think about it, the more confused you get.
"Not interrupting am I? I can give you some alone time if you like?" Gaeul places her hand on your shoulder, looking down at you and grinning.
"Not funny Gaeul. And no. Sit." Unusually cold from Yujin, she avoids your eye and gives Gaeul a short-tempered response.
Gaeul walks around behind Yujin, giving you a wide-eyed glare as she goes. As if to say 'what did you do?' It's impossible to answer with words. It's all too much, too tangled.
She takes a seat next to Yujin, placing her iced coffee on the table along with her protein bar. It's typical Gaeul. She's always on the move, living life at an aggressive pace, constantly busy. Even now she's on her phone, scrolling through something. You can't see what from this angle, and you've barely got the chance to catch her eyes and smile at her. But her face lights up, the brightness mirrored as you smile back.
"They're announcing the casts tonight for the graduation performances." Yujin nods as her finger points toward Gaeul's phone.
"We already know how it's going to go down. They’re not going to deny the money and status of a Jang. And we’ll be there to back her up." Gaeul pauses and takes a sip of her drink. "For us anyway. That's all that matters."
Gaeul slips the phone back into her bag and then scoops up the protein bar, starting to unwrap it. Before she takes a bite she asks you, "what about you? Why didn't you ever sign up to anything?"
"Because he's too busy sitting in the back of dance classes staring at our asses," Yujin answers for you.
"Actually, I'm still new here, remember? I just haven't got around to it yet."
"Yeah, because you're too busy staring at our asses," Yujin persists with a coy smile.
"Sure. Let's call it that. So I've been too busy staring at your asses to sign up for any classes."
"Alright, not too loud." Gaeul laughs. How did the conversation always end up going the same way? And how are you always in the middle of it? Thankfully, Gaeul decides to bail you out. "So, bro, any plans to go to the party tomorrow night?"
"You mean the one I didn't get an invitation to?" you're quick to ask back.
"You can be my plus one."
"Boyfriend not in town?" Yujin is quick to ask before you can reply to Gaeul.
"Nope. But I can't let that spoil my fun, plus it means I can bring a friend." Her eyes flutter back across to you. "Unless you've already got a plan for tomorrow night?"
"Sure, why not? Not like I've got much else going on. Are you going to be there, Yujin?"
Yujin swallows the last slurp of her milkshake, the loud straw sucking noise filling the void of the pause. "I'll be there. Actually, I need you tomorrow, before the party."
"Before?"
"Yes. You're going to help me pick a dress." It's not exactly the exciting rendezvous that sprung to mind. You weren't even sure exactly why you had to go. Why Yujin would need your opinion?
You open your mouth to speak but before even a syllable comes out, you spot Wonyoung across the room, heading towards the three of you. Yujin catches on and follows your gaze, not long before Gaeul follows suit, twisting in her chair. For a moment, the three of you are watching Wonyoung stride over the tiled floor. Each footstep seems to make the world grow quieter. People all around seem to part for her. It's not even conscious on their part.
It's hypnotising. It's captivating. It's utterly spellbinding the way she moves.
She has a sense of dignity, class, and poise. There's an elegance to her, and just a hint of sway in her hips. At the same time, Wonyoung's every movement also screams of a fierce strength. An undercurrent of steel. Not intimidating—not intentionally at least. Maybe simply the natural impression of a strong young woman, fearlessly unapologetic.
She reaches the three of you, greeting with a grin. "Did I miss much?"
Gaeul is the first to reply. "Just talking about the party."
"Oh exciting. I've seen the guest list. I can't wait." Wonyoung slides gracefully into the seat by your side, carefully placing her designer bag on the table. No need for her to say any more, Wonyoung and high-brow parties go hand-in-hand.
The room around you is slowly, subtly coming back to life. Sounds from everywhere start, one by one, to creep back in. The conversations return. The low hubbub. The clattering of trays. It's getting loud again.
Wonyoung continues, "and I do need to get out of the house. Father is away again and mother drives me insane."
"He's away again?" Yujin asks, shuffling in her seat and then leaning forward. She brings her palm to her chin and her elbow onto the table.
"New York this time. Something like that. Company business." Wonyoung dismisses. You are well aware that they've never been close. He's worked from the earliest day she can remember up until now—that’s the life of the head of a chaebol. She told you before about how he's rarely home. And even when his body is, his mind is still half-way around the globe. His wife probably suffers for it, too. She raises the kids alone.
And look, you were never one to pry, so the details aren't all there, but Wonyoung seemed confident that her father wasn't exactly faithful. The kind of stories you'd normally imagine just being made up by rich housewives who had too much time on their hands—but she told you he had quite the appetite for the kind of services the elite always seemed to appreciate.
"New York?" Yujin thinks for a moment, living in her own head. "I could do New York. Me and you? A girl’s trip. That sounds..."
"But what about the guy?" Gaeul points at you.
Wonyoung puts her hand on your leg, sliding down and rubbing your knee. "You'll stay here and wait for us, won't you?"
"Well, I was thinking that, you know, you could take him with you?" You never saw this coming. Maybe you should, but it caught you off guard. The three of you in the Big Apple for a week? Sign you the fuck up, and then some.
Not that you'd have a chance in hell of affording such a trip. The reality is often harsher than the dream.
"We could, but I don't think it would be fair on Yujin. Unless we..." It takes the others a moment to figure out exactly what Wonyoung is implying.
"No way, don't bring me into this. You already said that it would be weird. We’re too competitive."
They're speaking in tongues now and Gaeul's face full of confusion likely mirrors your own.
"What are you two talking about?" Gaeul questions, for her sake and yours. But before she get's an answer, she's looking out of the corner of her eye. She freezes for a minute and then turns to face the vice principal. She's headed right for your table and the four of you succumb to silence.
There's not many reasons a staff member would visit a group of students while they're eating at lunch. None of you are late with an assignment nor have you failed any tests. Not even a recent school event gone wrong. It must be something worse.
"Am I interrupting?" The Vice Principal stands over your table, looking over the four of you.
You all shake your head in unison, a lock of hair falling over Yujin's face, which she quickly sweeps back behind her ear.
The vice principal points in your direction, pointing right between your eyes. "You. Principal's office. Now."
The eyes of the girls fall on you. All of them shocked by the statement.
It's unheard of to be dragged into the Principal's office on a random Friday for seemingly no reason.
What's your first reaction? A chill in your stomach. Butterflies in flight, soaring. Fingers gripping tight to the fabric of your pants. Heart racing in your chest. Feeling dizzy. Lightheaded.
"Ummm. Can you tell me what I'm doing wrong?"
"You can ask the principal. Move."
***
"Take a seat." The principal gestures with an open hand at the two chairs across the desk from her. She's staring right at you through the reading glasses hanging on her face. Her perfectly pressed suit makes her look powerful—imposing. 
And this room? This tiny room, with its uncomfortable hard-backed chairs in front of the big imposing mahogany desk? That's as much of a psychological tactic as it is functional. Because you know this; everyone knows this: the people who sit in these chairs are invariably there to get told off.
This room is designed with a sole purpose; to cause you discomfort and make you feel small. Make you regret your actions. Remind you that this isn't a friend's house, and you don't get to act up here.
"Sit." She insists. The tone of voice is harsh, but you're certain there's an undertow of regret there too. You sit, almost falling into the chair in the most awkward and graceless way. It squeaks under the pressure, but thankfully, no sound comes out of your mouth. Not a peep.
"Effective today. You are expelled from the institution."
What the fuck?
"What the fuck?"
"You will be escorted off the premises immediately. Your bags, belongings and text books will all be packed and returned to you at your registered address."
"You can't do this!" Can they? How is this fair? What went wrong?
"You will not be able to return to campus, as the academic board has taken into consideration the severity and inappropriate nature of the events that occurred on the grounds."
The severity and inappropriate nature...
Her words—they hit hard. Suck the air out of the room, leave your lips dry, and a strange emptiness in your belly. Your fingers grip tight to the armrests of the chair, fighting for a grasp on any emotion—any hope or words to grasp onto.
Nothing.
There is nothing you can say. No reason or explanation you could offer. Nothing.
The walls around the both of you stand, large, impenetrable and collapsing on you.
"The evidence produced to myself was conclusive. You and an unknown partner committed obscene acts last week in the school library. That is grounds for expulsion without appeal."
Unknown partner? Of course.
Now what?
coup de théâtre
Next part
1K notes · View notes
undercoverpena · 4 months
Text
it means something
joel miller x f!reader | masterlist
Tumblr media
summary: compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.
to @joelsflannel, i took aspects of all your prompts. i tried to make it fluffy, her a little romantic, i tried to give you a quote that i hope you adore, with a man i know you already love. and i sprinkled in a hard day for you, but with some stress-easing fun to unwind with. merry christmas <;3
wordcount: 3.2k warnings: softer!joel, soft sex (p in v), talks of love, jackson era joel, mentions of ellie, joel in a towel (like damn). written for @pedrostories secret santa event.
Tumblr media
You’re tired, drained.
Somehow, you find yourself able to drag your feet from the livelier part of Jackson to the quieter, almost more peaceful part. The soles of your boots draw lines behind you, all of which will likely be covered by the newly settling snow within the hour.
It's picturesque, this place. The kind of location you expect would have once been on postcards that people would be sent to loved ones saying 'wish you were here'.
You don't have to wish.
If your eyes weren’t like pinholes, you’d take a second to admire it.
Stamp your boots in one spot, and enjoy the crunch of it under your feet. A thing you’d do on any other day, if not for the fact, that you were so ready to be in the warmth, to be with him—to curl into him and breathe in his scent.
The kind of scent which buries itself into your nose, to your soul. It wraps its fingers around you and digs its clutches into you. Not that you complain. You'd bathe in it if you could, happily letting him smear it over your skin whenever the two of you have the chance.
It’s why you continue to move. It's why you force one leg in front of the other, muscles begging for reprieve.
By the time you’re up the steps, fingers wrapping around the handle of the front door, you realise how badly you wish to shed your layers. Desiring nothing more than to slide out of your coat, unwrap your scarf, remove the hat, gloves and second pair of socks.
Twisting the handle, the door doesn't fight letting you inside. Instead, it welcomes you. Allowing you to move quickly inside, more than anyone would expect from someone so fatigued—removing the layers, hanging each in turn on the rack beside his.
A sight which tugs at something inside you. It loops its fingers around that feeling within, gently pulling—it is all warm, unexplainable; all hard to describe, but the closest word is lovely, nice—welcomed.
That feeling had been born before the end of days, but it had been nothing but an ember then. Now, it was a roaring fire, all lit by him.
You're sure he knows. Not that either of you talk about it. It added to the long list of things you never speak, not for his sake, but for yours.
Even when you first began your… thing with him, you’d found it as difficult as him to know what to call it. Especially, when it had all happened so randomly, with no explanation or sight that it would occur. It just did.
Smiling, you allow yourself a moment to think back to it. How warm it was. How the setting sun smudged an array of shades across the sky, how you'd been bitter about something, mumbling under your breath until a noise cut through your dismay. His laughter. All gruff and born from his throat. It had expelled into the space between the two of you, cut through your bad mood.
Because it had been louder than you’d ever heard it as the two of you walked back, as you did on so many other nights. But that night had felt so different—and it was.
One moment you were staring, and the next his lips found yours, all chapped, but soft. His fingers around your cheek, whispering your name so gently. Stroking your skin, all worn, a bit rough.
Now, the two of you are a habit. A routine.
Nothing has ever been discussed, nothing ever exchanged. Just some nights you ate dinner with him—knee pressed against his. Sometimes your things sat along his in his home, bobby pins and whatever book you were reading.
Some days Ellie let herself into your house, had made a bedroom out of one of your spares, and sometimes she asked if you wanted to come round to theirs.
The only constant thing is that at least once every week, your limbs found themselves tangled with his. His mouth latched itself onto your neck, hand grasping at your breast, fingers pinching the peak of your nipple as he gruffly told you how hard you’d gotten him.
You liked it. Craved it.
Enjoyed the way you took him apart as he focused on making you a mess.
You liked seeing his salt and pepper curls cling to his forehead, liked running your nails through the hair on the back of his neck—back arched into him, feeling fuller than you’d ever imagined you could. Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, saying words he'd never say if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of you.
But then, you only call him Joel when he's between your thighs too.
"Miller?"
His name rings around the first floor of the house.
Checking the package in your pocket, you sigh as the day drips from your tight muscles. Hand moving to rub the back of your neck, staring at Ellie's half-open comic and the pencils you'd lent her over the table.
You knew she wouldn't reply, not when tonight was movie night. A Christmas one, she'd told you. She had already let it slip she was going, told you as she kept watch on the door so you could continue your surprise for him.
Her request for you to join her faded when you looked up at her, likely seeing the same look which now greets you in the dust-covered mirror.
Kicking off your boots, and removing one layer of socks, you sigh at the way your feet can all of a sudden breathe—even inside his thick socks. Wiggling your toes, you smile as you begin to curl and unfurl them, before your hand finds the bannister, dragging yourself up the stairs until you reach his room.
His empty room.
Heart falling, you consider calling out again. Using his first name this time—letting each of the four letters carry around the house.
But, his bed looks comfortable. It calling to you. Somehow finding yourself lying on it, your face pressed into his sheets, your bones and muscles sighing in relief that you're in a bed.
Eyes wishing to flutter shut, body unwinding against the mattress, the sheets. It’s on the third heavy exhale, do you realise you hear water. It falls in pitters and patters, distantly, likely from the bathroom across the hall.
That’s when a smile curls across your face because you’ve always found comfort in the sound of running water.
Whether it’s rivers or rain, and showers or leaks. It reminds you of calmness, of things fading from reach—washing away, starting anew. Memories of times trying to colour themselves in your mind, fading before they do as sleep tries to coax you away.
The only thing which displaces the grip sleep has on you, is the comforting sight that comes to a stop at the foot of the bed.
Steam swirling around him, all broad shoulders and still damp skin—the hair on his chest, arms, and stomach, clinging in half-swirled curls and straight lines, the towel clutched at his hip.
The first time you saw Joel Miller naked, you’d almost lost the function to speak. All man—all soft and muscle simultaneously. Something constructed from fantasies, made in real life, carved and moulded by hands you think never thought he’d be real. You were close to not being able to speak all over again now.
Eyes tracing, outlining and shading—squirrelling away a sketch of him you’ll think about when the other side of the bed is cold and not filled with him.
“Didn’t hear you come in.”
You hum, lifting up onto your elbows, admiring him, finding him doing the same—even if you suspect you’re not half as good-looking right now as he is.
Least of all when he takes your ankle in hand, moving you sideways with him as steps between your legs now hanging off the bed, the fabric of his towel brushing over your jeans, his palms coming down on the mattress on either side of your neck, staring at you with a look of concern.
“Y’not been sleepin’?”
“Just been busy,” you reply, arms looping around his neck. “Not lots of time to rest.”
You suppose at some point between summer and winter, things became soft—less about need and company, and something along the lines of real.
In another world, one not ridden with fungi and death, you suppose it would have been labelled, added something which tied the two of you together—something meaning more to others than it likely would do to you.
Smiling, you force your eyes to open properly. Watching that look of hunger slowly bleed out over the concern, vanishing entirely when you smirk. If the two of you were different, you suspect you'd tell him you miss him. Tell him you've thought about him.
Instead, you whisper, “Want you, Joel.”
Even more so when you trace the words over his mouth. Aware of his hands on your jeans, and how he's popped open the button, how he's dragging down the zipper. The fabric freely slides from your skin as your hands slide down, dropping to the towel at his waist—thumb digging over it, all ready to pull, unravel it. “Need you.”
His eyes narrow swallowed in darkness. “Yeah?”
Nodding, you roll your lips, dragging your fingers to the tuck, undoing it, not taking your eyes off him. Seeing something in his eyes that is more than just reciprocation of the words spoken, but the ones left unsaid.
“You want me?”
However, you’ll have me.
You’re not sure you speak it, but you're sure he hears it all the same.
For how aloof people think he is, he’s a man who listens—not just to the crunch of branches and the rustle of trees, but to the things people don’t say. He hears their secrets and pulls away their lies. Skills he told you one night he levelled up in when the world tried to keep taking more than it had already.
You suppose it’s how he knows you, your body, what you want and what you crave.
More so as he tangles his tongue with yours, all heady—gripping him firm, tightly as his fingers snake between the two of you. Desperation thrumming through your fingers as you push them into his skin, into his muscles—feeling the coil tighten as he moves his fingers with nothing short of precision. Knowing you, having mapped you out, learnt your cues—it’s why you don’t fight it, the incoming wave ready to drench your taut muscles, let him undo you, unravel you out so you’re nothing but spread out for him.
He likes it like that, you can tell. Likes how you surrender to him, how you lay out for him, letting him move you how he needs you.
It used to be rough, desperate—pure carnal. But, it’s been replaced by something else, something not soft or romantic, but you’re sure it’s a distant relative.
Once you’d gotten a bruise on your hip that pulsed, shifted in shades from being nudged against your kitchen table. Now when he leaves them, he traces them with his thumb, hoping to suck out the sting. Because now you’re treated to comfort—too recently washed bedding and his fingers inside your cunt as your body bends into him, practically curls, sings, hums.
“Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”
Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show. Each lick of his gaze makes you glow, and feel like something worth choosing, having been picked, plucked—and placed on some mantle you don’t even mind being perched on.
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, breathing a struggle, practically gasping, you mumble his name—murmur it, almost a whine. “Fuck me now, Joel. Want you inside of me.”
Then, you’re overwhelmed.
Bathed in both the scent of fresh soap, dewy skin and absolute fullness. Your legs wrapping, crossing at the ankles as he slides into the hilt—pausing, just as he always does, fingers brushing over your jaw until he’s tilting your chin.
That same look—the one you first witnessed after the kiss under the dusk.
It doesn’t vanish until you show him, either in a whisper of the magic words or a movement he can read as a spell. Your hips rolling, rocking—please, please.
Your hands take in the feel of him breathing, the way his chest expands, fills with the knowledge, the realisation, nails digging, almost all in order. One he answers, delivers, fucking stamps.
Joel makes your toes curl, makes white noise appear in your ears, and makes you forget every important thing you’ve ever filed away. All hot, scorching against your skin as you grasp him closer, hoping you’ll be smothered in burns—hoping the same when you swallow his grunts, his hisses off your name. His hips pistoning, aiming to send you over the edge before him, hands—riddled with the evidence of his survival and his new hobby keep you rooted, don’t allow you to wander off into bliss without him.
“Too good f’me, sweetheart.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, right against your pulse, before he licks against what beats under your skin.
You snort amidst your whine, clutching all the strings which keep you whole as you close your eyes—banish him from looking into your soul. He’s seen all there is there, let him in before, provided flashes, evidence of your shattered soul and broken mentality. It comes to the surface easier here, when your walls suck him in, and your body calls for him in a chorus of pleading and begging.
Because you’re close—not needing too much from him tonight, the sight of him is enough. The knowledge of his existence, knowing he’s yours without confirmation.
“There, right there,” you moan, heels digging into the base of his back, feeling the jostle of him, the way he rears and fucks.
He smirks, shifting, just enough to make the head of his cock hit the spot which makes your thighs shake, tremble, fucking quake. His mouth still split open, words there on his tongue, all ready to drape over your skin—
But, you just feel it’s incoming arrival. All white-hot, blinding—too much pressure, yet needing just a little bit more. Your body is not yours, mind empty, gone, faded. You want to sink your teeth into him, bite down, cut into him and leave a mark like the ones he leaves inside you each time the two of you do this.
Because it means something. This. The two of you in this little house in fucking Jackson. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?
“Yea’,” he grunts, palm on your face, tilting you up roughly, forcing your eyes to open.
And you swear he smiles when they flash open. You swear it.
“Means somethin’, sweetheart. This—fuck—us.”
The words grind into you. As though he's the pestle and your mortar. Your breath is lost, unable to be grasped, your body hanging, pleasure a bigger force—swallowing the room, casting you in shadows and misting over you—until you cry out. Squeezing, fluttering.
Not able to see anything but his face, the look on his face—the twisted expression of his lips and the deepness of his eyes. More black, than brown—but they’re somehow still soft, still full of something you hope is pleasant and full of emotions.
It only vanishes briefly when he spills inside of you.
When he collapses on top of you—his heart hammering against your ribs. And, even if it isn’t the first time, you feel yourself still—pause, no rash movements, because this is nice, this is something you want without asking for it.
“Can’t believe I can hear y’brain already.”
Snorting, you roll your eyes, glancing over—finding his lips have slid into his cheek.
It gnaws at you, the reason for your lack of sleep. The thing which you've traded hours of rest for. That dormant part pushed to the edge by exhaustion, now awake and very much worrying.
“Got you something,” you whisper, biting your lip, watching his brows furrow and lines appear between them.
Standing up, you steal the dressing gown from the back of his door—the one you’d traded for months ago. The one which is far too big, even for him, making it only cosier when you borrow it. Shooting him a smile, you almost disguise it, worried it's far too soft, too normal, before you mumble about being right back.
It's a hurry to the front door, all feet hammering down on wooden steps before your hand digs in your coat pocket, retrieving the wrapped thing you’ve lost shuteye over.
When you enter, he’s under the sheets—hair at odd angles, looking both a mixture of energised and fucked out that you wish you could paint with your fingers, so you'd forever have it.
“Didn’t wanna give this to you on the 25th—just in case you popped a vein trying to figure out what it means.”
Kneeling on the bed, you take a levelling breath, before handing it to him. His eyes travelling from you to it, fingers taking it—all delicate, measured. Before he unpeels the ribbon, undressing it with more care than he often shows you, before it rolls free of the paper you managed to find. It catches the ceiling light, glinting, gleaming, the handle looking even more detailed in this light than under the candles you’d had to use to remain discreet.
In your hand, the knife had appeared large, and menacing. In his, it looked right.
Yet, his face looked as though it was anything but.
Enough for you to prod, needle. To nudge closer on your knees, to smooth out the sheets and then flick your lashes up, finding him already staring, weighing it up—whatever coated his tongue, had been written in his mind.
“Sweetheart… I don’t… I don’t deserve this—”
More words fall in silence, not quite spoken, yet somehow loud.
Enough for you to say his name, to rest your knee on the bed and deeply sigh.
“You…’m not a good man.”
You almost laugh, but you don’t. Crawling up, placing your hand on his chest, you take a shaky breath. “I’m not sure I care.”
And you don't.
Because it's easy to feel something for him, to love him. It's natural, there one day and the day after. It wasn't hard or difficult, but very fucking easy.
Your mouth even opens to say as much, but you close it again before a syllable is muttered.
Wrapping the gift, he moves it from between the two of you, to the bedside table. His fingers linger, hovering over the carved wood—the one which caused splinters and made your eyes almost cross over. “Y’should. M’not an easy man to love.”
“I disagree,” you whisper, fingers having slid up to the base of his neck, your fingers teasing his curls. “Since I’m pretty sure I already feel those things for you.”
His brows lift, and you smile—letting it speak the words you can’t say, and you’re sure he’s not willing to hear.
“Don’t sweat it, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours. Yeah?”
Nodding, he bites his cheek, placing the knife back into the packaging—moving it, replacing what he’d been holding with your wrist as he pulls you close.
“Got you somethin’ too.”
Nose bumping his, you shift closer, thighs finding themselves on either side of him—his hands finding a place on them, sliding up, callouses grazing on your skin, before squeezing.
“But y’gotta wait until the 25th. Like a good girl.”
Smirking, you cup his cheeks. "Okay, Miller. I'll wait."
Tumblr media
an: merry christmas, i hope you love this <3
1K notes · View notes
vampiresbloodx · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Older!librarian!Wanda finally takes you out on a date after being too nervous and having that doubt that you don't actually even like her the way she thought you did, you two talk all the time whenever Wanda has a break on her shift, it's her favourite part of the day, just seeing you, smiling and laughing.
She was right about you being in college. It seems you're in your last year and still have no clue on what to do with your future. Wanda can see how much stress you're in with the finals coming up, it pains her to see you like this. She'd give you the whole universe if she could.
She doesn't know why she's so interested in you, these feelings are definitely not like anything she's already experienced. She was slightly confused herself, what she actually feels towards you, but what she does know is that it's love.
Wanda wants to hold you close to her, kiss you, make you happy, make you laugh, cry, and smile. She wants to see all of it. All of you. Every inch of you.
Maybe she's been reading too many romance books and sapphic fiction.
She just wants to wake up next to you, go to sleep with you every night.
And of course, there are other sinful things she wants to do that she finds herself thinking of when she's at work, in the shower, at home, it doesn't matter where, god, the sound of your voice, the way you look at her, ignites a flame inside her that she didn't know was even there.
Wanda grew up in a pretty Christian neighbourhood. It sucked. She was so used to tradition, how everything should be, not how she feels it should be.
Then you changed her mind on it all.
With one smile.
Wanda hasn't been on a date since.... Forever. Hell she doesn't even know who it was with. It probably was pretty bad then. She has been getting used to her phone so she can text you more and call you, just to hear you speak, when she asks you out, she was expecting a humiliating rejection, but when you smiled up at her, adorably so, you accepted.
"pick me up at 8?"
You said to her.
She nodded.
"see you then."
She watches you walk away, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding in.
Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest.
She felt like she was in highschool again.
Wanda had rushed home after her shift ended and she closed up the library for the night, she was panicking, unsure of what to wear and if she should bring wine or flowers, Wanda decided on both, and chocolate, but what if you were allergic? Dark chocolate. Or just roses.
She wore her best dress that made her feel young again, did her make up, and she felt good.
It was time to pick you up, she drove to your address that you had given her, it was a nice little apartment building she parked outside of and went to the door, pressing on the number of the button you told her to do.
"hello?"
There came your voice.
"hi, it's Wanda."
"oh hey! I'll be right down."
When she saw you, her mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, she felt so lucky, you looked gorgeous, you shy away from her gaze as she eyes you up and down, she steps closer, grabbing your hands as she kisses your knuckles.
A shiver went down your spine when you felt her lips, wanting to kiss her immediately.
"you look stunning."
Your cheeks burned.
"uh... Um, you look really beautiful too. Like really beautiful."
It was her turn to blush.
You chuckled, leaning in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, her face practically turning red.
God you don't know what you're doing to her.
She took you out to a fancy restaurant, she saw your reaction and how surprised you looked, she chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes wondered all over the place.
"ms. Maximoff?" A guy at the counter greeted her, she nodded, smiling at him.
"your table is ready" he guided the two of you to a nice private era, with a candle lit.
Once he left you spoke up.
"damn, I was not expecting this. No one has ever taken me out to a restaurant!" You gushed.
She grinned, "how come? Anyone would feel lucky enough to show you off."
You bit down on your lip.
"keep flirting with me like that we won't even last till dinner."
She laughed, shaking her head.
-
The dinner went perfectly, and for a surprise, she took you back to the library, where you two first met, in that same spot.
"are we allowed to be here?" You asked in a whisper.
"hon, I practically run it."
"I know but what if we get caught!" You said, standing close to her.
"we won't" she says, unlocking the door.
You both entered as she locked the door from behind so no one else could get in, you two laughing as she brought you to the same spot she first saw you, you got quiet as you remembered it exactly, she smiled, caressing your cheek with her hand as she pressing her body against yours, your back hitting the book shelves.
"you look so pretty" she cooed, "god, I want to ruin you."
You whimpered, her eyes darkening at the sound as she leans in, kissing you on the lips, your hands coming up to wrap around her neck.
509 notes · View notes
ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months
Text
Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Two
Tumblr media
Summary: The morning after the disaster that was your engagement party has got your head pounding and you're not even sure what your next move is gonna be. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5k~ Warnings: Explicit Language (maybe idk I can't remember lol) an argument and idk that's kinda it lol and ofc barely edited lmao a/n: I'm putting out part 2 early as a thank you for all the notes and just the over all interaction you all have given my blog and this story so thank you. I've barely written anything for part 3 so there's gonna be a bigger gap between uploads so forgive me but be sure to check out my other stories as well in the meantime 🥰 Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜
Hearing the birds outside is the first thing that brings me out of the dream state I had been in. I open my eyes and scan my surroundings and notice that I'm still at Jungkook's house. "What happened last night?" I say aloud, rubbing my eyes and sitting up before laying back down, getting an instant head rush.
"Y/n?" I hear Jungkook from the other side of door. "Come in" I say before thinking twice, not remembering anything about what happened last night. "Good morning sunshine" he says quietly, walking in with a glass of water and pain killers and I sit up slowly as he comes closer.
"How did I end up in here?" I ask and wordlessly thank him and take it real quick and start chugging the water while waiting for his response. "I carried you" he replies leaving me choking at the image.
"You carried me in here?" I ask, embarrassed that he had to take care of me like that. "Yeah you pretty much passed out on me so I kinda had to" he laughs, rubbing my back hoping to help me stop coughing. "I'm sorry I kinda don't remember anything" I admit and I see his face fall a little leaving me panicking again.
"Did I do something stupid?" I cringe and he laughs at whatever memory he has leaving me even more nervous. "No don't worry you were just being cute" he teases and I let out a breath I had been holding, thankful I didn't make too much of a fool of myself, or at least by his standards.
"I'm sorry I guess I lost control a bit" I say, looking down at my hands, embarrassed that I had given him so much trouble to deal with. "You know you say sorry a lot for someone who doesn't really have anything to be sorry about" he say and I sigh, not believing his words but not having the energy or brain capacity to argue.
"Hey" he says, tilting my chin up to look at him, you're fine y/n don't worry. I'm just glad you let me be there for you. I couldn't let you leave in the state you were in so thank you for trusting me to take care of you" he says while rubbing his thumb up against my cheek and all I can do in response is blink, so caught off guard by the sudden skin ship.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting go of my chin and taking the water glass from my hand. "Yes and no. Honestly I feel like I'm gonna throw up" I admit without thinking twice. "I mean I-"
"It's okay, you really did drink a lot so I'm not surprised. Let me at least make you some soup so you have something in your system" he says and I nod which satisfies him. "I'll let you know when it's ready" he continues and I nod again, watching as he makes his way out.
I hold my head in my hands, begging for the medicine to kick in so this pounding in my head goes away.  Although I know though that the onset stress of not knowing what happened last night is the real cause of this headache. 'What happened last night?' I question myself silently this time, going through everything that happened yesterday but the part after me coming back inside the house after everyone left is still a little fuzzy.
I sit and think for a little while longer and before I know it Jungkook is knocking on the door again. "Foods ready" he says with a sweet smile making me forget how exactly I'm supposed to respond. "Is everything okay?" he asks, coming to sit on my side of the bed. "I just, I really don't remember what happened last night" I say and he nods and thinks for a second before responding.
"How about this, lets get some food in you first and get you feeling a bit better and then I'll tell you. Okay?" he offers, tilting his head at me and I nod after thinking for a second or two. "Great, now can you get out there on your own or do you think you need some help?" he asks and I quickly go to shut down his offer.
"No Jungkook that's okay I can manage" I say and throw the covers off of me and slowly get up off the bed and I hear him chuckle a bit. "What are you laughing at?" I ask, confused as to if he's making fun of me or not.
"No, no it's nothing. I'm just surprised you called me Jungkook on your own this time" he says as I start to stand and my heart rate picks up, not even realizing I had done that. "Well you wanted me to call you that right?" I ask shyly, but I lose my footing when I stand up, still a bit weak to my dismay but before I have a chance to fall Jungkook catches me and pulls me onto his lap.
"I-" I start but am caught off by the proximity and the memories of last night start to flood my brain and I rest my head on his shoulder just like I did before I passed out.
I groan and he laughs at my reaction, "It all coming back to you isn't it?" he asks and I nod, not daring to make eye contact with him. "I can't believe I asked you to do that. I'm sorry" I say and try to get off his lap but he pull me back on it with his hands that are firmly placed on my hips.
"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong" he says, brushing the hair that had fallen on my face out of the way. If I couldn't breathe before I definitely can't breathe now, especially since I catch him looking down at my lips before quickly flipping them back to my eyes.
"Okay" is all I can manage to choke out and before he's able to do anything else I quickly get up off his lap and walk out of the room, needing to break the tension that had started to build between us.
'What the fuck am I doing? Kissing my best friend...well ex best friend's dad? Like what the fuck is wrong with me?' I walk into the bathroom in the hallway to get an extra five minutes alone so I can try to stop my heart from racing. Who would've thought that in less than twenty four hours I would have a mental breakdown not once, but twice in this same bathroom. 'Why does this shit always have to happen to me?'
After taking a few more breaths and washing my face I walk into the kitchen where I see Jungkook enjoying his morning cup of coffee, or should I say afternoon cup of coffee as I check the clock seeing it's already past two.
"Did I really sleep this late?" I ask, cringing at the thought of yet again inconveniencing him. "Yeah but don't worry I was planning on having a lazy day anyways" he says, reading my mind and motioning for me to sit down at one of the stools on the island he has in his kitchen.
He turns his back to me and starts preparing me a bowl of soup but I can help but check him out, his strong broad shoulders that lead down to his small waist and accompanied by his ass and thick thighs I could just-
"Here you go" he say, placing the bowl in front of me and I quickly bring my eyes to the food he's given me. It smells strangely like home, almost as if my mom had made it for me when I had been sick as a kid. "Thank you" I say quietly and take a bite, moaning at the warm and rich flavor that hits my tongue without even realizing what I'd done.
"That good huh?" he asks while leaning back on one of the counters with his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh- um, yeah. Yes, thank you" I say, quickly tripping over my words but he just smiles before taking another sip of coffee and I quickly go back to eating my soup. This time quietly.
"So what are you planning on doing?" he asks casually after I've finished eating, as if I know what he's talking about. "What do you mean?" I question after taking a drink of water, him having refused to give me a cup of coffee until I had at least drank two cups of water.
"You live with my daughter right?" he questions and my whole mood turns upside down. He takes notice of it and quickly back pedals, "I guess I should've waited for you to wake up a bit more before asking you that" he says, now offering me an apology cup of coffee.
"No it's okay you're right. I probably should figure out what I'm gonna do. To be honest I think I'll move out. Just because being in the same space that I used to spend time with them in just sounds like I'm setting myself up for heartbreak" and he nods at my reasoning but I decide to continue anyways, verbally processing it all.
"If I stay there I'll be reminded of all the good times we had and the many memories we made together and I don't want to be haunted by those images. Plus a fresh start sounds perfect to me" I say and he continues while adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar to my coffee, weirdly.
"So are you just going to stay there until you find a place?" he asks and I think about how awkward it's going to be just working around her until I find that perfect place. "I was thinking I could probably ask my sister if I could crash at her place for a bit" I say thinking of the first solution that comes to mind.
"But doesn't your sister live on the opposite side of the city from your internship?" he questions and I slump at that realization. "You're right. I guess I'll just have to wake up a bit earlier" I say, trying to figure out how to remedy this problem full well knowing it's been hard enough for me to wake up and get there on time even though I only lived ten minutes away.
"Why don't you stay here?" he offers and my whole body straightens up instantly, "You would let me stay here?" I ask, my eyebrows raised as high as they possibly could, surprised that he would even offer something like that and he nods in response.
"You would let me stay here?" I question again, clarifying if I heard him right. "Yeah why not? I've got plenty of space and it's not like we're strangers or anything. Plus your internship is only about ten minutes further from here than where you live now" he says, making good points as to why I should take him up on the offer.
"I couldn't possibly do that to you. I mean I wouldn't want to disturb your life like that. But thank you!" I say, shutting down the idea right away but he persists nonetheless.
"Again, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. You're more than welcome to stay here and you can even move upstairs into one of the bigger bedrooms. Plus I have a storage unit that I haven't really used so you can store any big pieces of furniture you might have" he continues, trying to convince me even more and when he sees that I am about to refuse again he comes up with a compromise.
"Stay one more night. Tomorrow's Sunday right? That way you won't have to worry about work or anything like that so we can just relax and talk about things over today and tomorrow and then you can decide what you'd like to do" he says and it gets me to think about it for a second which makes him hopeful and ultimately I end up accepting.
"I guess I could stay one more night" I say and he gives me a half smile which some how makes me more nervous than a full one and so I take the first sip of my coffee that has honestly gone cold by now.
"Perfect. Did you want me to go take you to your place to pick up some clothes that you might need?" he questions, jumping at the opportunity to be helpful. "No that's okay. I drove here so I have my car out front" I say, shutting his next offer down but he make another good point that has me second guessing myself.
"Are you sure you want to drive when you're hungover? I don't think I can let you do that" he says, falling into a protective mode which is endearing but I don't think I could take advantage of him like that since he's already done so much for me. "I'll be fine Jungkook don't worry" I say and he nods his head respecting my choice and I let out a breath, happy that I don't have to fight him on this one too.
"Okay, did you want to borrow some more of my clothes so you can shower before you go?" he questions and I smile awkwardly, happy that he offered but guilty that he yet again is helping me out.
"I'll be back in a sec" he chuckles and walks past me, placing a hand on my back as he passes by which makes me sit up straight at the feeling and I watch him as he jogs upstairs to go retrieve said clothes.
He comes down seconds later with the clothes, a towel and even a toothbrush in hand. "Thought you might want one of these too" he says and I accept it all sheepishly before excusing myself and making my way into the bathroom.
How am I even supposed to act in this kind of situation? Like my ex best friend's dad who I kissed last night while I was drunk is now offering to let me stay here so I can move out of the apartment I share with his toxic daughter that my boyfriend cheated on me with. Like this is just way too much weirdness for me.
I shake off those thoughts and get in the shower to quickly get rid of all of these roaming thoughts and just hope and pray that somehow things will work out and I can settle into a new normal with my own place as soon as possible but I guess that luck just isn't on my side these days...
~~~~
After getting out of the shower and getting dressed I dry my hair with the hair dryer I happened to find under the sink and try to make myself look as presentable as possible so when I go back home I don't look like the complete mess that I know I am on the inside.
There's no reason I should be showing any kind of weakness around Jina or Jared so I just need to get in and get out of there as fast as I can so I can avoid as much awkwardness as possible. Being hungover doesn't help this situation in the slightest so I just really hope that she's not even there.
Walking out of the bathroom I'm met with a freshly clean Jungkook, scrolling through his phone while sitting on the couch and he quickly turns his head once he notices I've finished up.
"You feeling okay" he asks, always concerned for my wellbeing and I guess I just need to chalk it up to the parent side of him. Maybe that's all this is? Maybe Jina hasn't really given him an opportunity to be her dad in a while so he's just seeing me as another daughter he wants to take care of. That makes a lot more sense so thinking about it now I think I can go into this with a lot clearer mindset than before.
"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better thankfully" I say and head to the guest room where I stayed last night. "If you wanna just throw all of that into the washing machine I'll get a load going later on" he calls after me and I simply do as he asks and then head back into said bedroom.
"Hey Jungkook have you seen my phone?" I question while throwing the blankets around, trying to figure out where I could've put it. "Yeah you left it out in the living room last night so I put it on the charger when I woke up. Here" he says and I jolt at the sound of his voice being in the room with me, full on expecting him to still be on the couch.
"Thank you" I say while holding my hand out to take it with the other one placed over my heart, trying to calm down after the shock of him getting here so quickly. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" he chuckles and I wave off his apology, not seeing any need for it. "It's fine don't worry about it" I say and once I unlock it I see call after call after call after call from not only Jared but Jina, my mom and my sister, with just as many text messages to match.
"Looks like you're really popular today" he jokes, trying to make light of the situation. "Not for the right reasons" I mumble and lock my phone, not bothering to sift through the hundreds of notifications just yet.
"I've gotta head out and get a few things at the store so why don't you come with me? We can stop by your place to get your things and then this way you can help me pick out some groceries so we have stuff that you like as well" he says while grabbing his keys and instead of trying to refuse I simply nod and follow him outside.
We get in the car and drive silently to my place but once we get a bit closer I stop him. "Would you mind parking around the corner? It's just...well I don't want Jina to see you driving me around and make a big deal about it" he nods his head and without a fuss pulls into the coffee shop parking lot around the corner.
"Is this alright?" he questions and I nod and get out of the car. "Let me know if you need any help. She's my daughter so it's not like she would do anything drastic if I was around" he says, referring to her sometimes short temper. Plus with these added hormones there's no telling how she gonna be reacting to things now that everything is out in the open.
As I make my way to the apartment I check my phone to see if she's still sharing her location with me and thankfully she is and I see that she's still at work so hopefully if move fast enough I should be in and out before she comes home.
Walking into the apartment it looks as though she's started gathering her own stuff up in boxes, almost as if she's getting ready to move out. I appreciate the fact that since she fucked up that she automatically volunteered to move out but she's more than welcome to keep this place as far as I'm concerned.
I jog back into my room, reminding myself of the task at hand and I grab my duffle bag and start putting as many things as I think I'll need to get me through at least a few days in case anything happens. Better safe than sorry right?
My last stop is the bathroom where I pack up my shampoo and conditioner as well as my skincare products and throw it all into a plastic bag that I'm able to place easily on top of the rest of the items in the bag but before I'm even able to finish getting the rest of my toiletries together I'm greeted with the sound of Jina walking in.
"Y/n?" she calls out and I swear under my breath, trying to think of a way to make this whole situation as quick and painless as possible. "Y/n?" she says again, rounding the corner and finding me in the bathroom where I've started to pick up the pace and throw things in haphazardly wanting to get the fuck out already.
"What are you doing?" she questions me and I walk past her and back into my room and throw the bag in my duffle bag and zip everything up. "Please don't ignore me" she says in pretty much the most pitiful voice I've ever hear out of her and I scoff and roll my eyes. "You don't have the right to be acting like that. I'm moving out so don't bother moving out if you want the apartment" I say and throw on a baseball hat and walk out of my room and make a b line for the front door.
"Y/n please talk to me" she pleads and it's taking everything in me not to slap that 'poor me' attitude out of her. "You wanna talk? Let's speed this up for the both of us alright? You slept with my boyfriend behind my back, got pregnant and ruined my relationship and now I'm moving out. That pretty much covers everything if I'm not mistaken so let's just call this conversation over. I'll be back to pick up the rest of my shit later so don't touch anything" I say quickly without giving her a second to get a word in.
"When's later?" she asks and I roll my eyes at her pitiful excuse in trying to keep me here. "Whenever the hell I feel like it Jina. Sorry I can't make everything magically disappear right away" I say and turn to grab the handle but she just keeps going.
"Where are you staying?" she has the audacity to ask and I smile and shake my head at her stupidity. "Why would I ever tell you that? So you can come bother me with your lame excuses of apologizing. Or oh yeah even worse telling Jared where to find me so he can do the same thing. Why don't you guys do all of us a favor and stay the hell out of my life" I say and walk out the door, making sure to slam it right behind me.
While walking back to Jungkook's car I try my best to calm my breathing so I can hide what happened from him. There's no reason why he even needs to know that she showed up so might as well keep it to myself.
As I get closer to his car I watch as he looks up and sees me coming and gets out to grab my bag from me. "Is this everything you wanted?" he questions, taking it from me and placing it in the trunk. "Yep that's everything. Or at least enough to get me through the next few days" I say and get in the car with him following suit soon after.
"Are you okay?" he asks, concern now laced all over his expression. "I'm totally fine, why do you ask?" I question in the most awkward tone of voice I've ever heard come out of me. "Because you're shaking" he points out and grabs one of my hands, holding it between two of his.
"No it's okay I'm fine" I say, my voice now getting wobbly, matching the shakiness of my hands. "Something happened in there didn't it?" he asks and I shake my head but he raises a questioning brow at me which has me nodding a moment later, admitting to what happened. "Jina came home" I say and take a shaky breath in and out, trying to keep myself from crying.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he questions and I quickly shake my head and he nods his and lets go of my hand and turns to start the car and pull out of the parking lot but as soon as we're on the main road again he reaches out for one of my hands and holds onto it again, not letting go until we get to the store.
~~~~~
Grocery shopping with him feels weirdly domestic and felt as though we had done it dozens of times before, with both of our methods on how to shop quickly and efficiently matching up perfectly and so time flies and before I know it we're already putting the groceries away in his kitchen.
"We make a pretty good team huh?" he says and tossing me an apple and I catch it in time, further proving his point. "I guess we do" I say amusedly and take a big bite out of it. "No I'm serious! I swear whenever I go alone I always end up forgetting one of the most obvious ingredients and with your help I don't think I forgot a single thing" he says taking a bite of the apple he had gotten for himself.
"Well I'm glad to have been of some help. I feel bad since you've been doing nothing but taking care of me for the past twenty four hours and I haven't been able to give you anything in return" I admit, twisting the stem of until it pops off.
"You've given me plenty in return" he laughs off, as if I had said something ridiculous. "Oh yeah like what?" I ask, taking another bite of the apple and leaning back against the counter.
"You've definitely given me quite a few laughs today" he says and I scrunch my eyebrows together knowing that he's just making fun of me. "And you've definitely made my day a whole lot more interesting. Plus I learned some new things about you" he says and I gulp at that last part, knowing I've definitely overshared with him quiet a few times.
"Like how you prefer green apples over red. How you prefer white bread over wheat and that you get shy whenever I get close to you" he lists off, the last one obviously catching me off guard.
"I-" I start but I'm frozen in place as he gets closer to me and I just realized how I've backed myself into a corner. "Jungkook I-" I try again but my efforts die in my throat when he places his hands on either side of my hips, trapping me against the counter, staring at me as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.
"Do you wanna tell me why that is?" he asks, tilting his head almost taunting me. "I don't know what you're talking about" I say, doing my best to remain level headed. "You sure about that?" he asks and I nod my head in response, not trusting my voice to stay steady this time. "Then why are you holding your breath?" he says while placing his hand on my neck and using his thumb to press down on my chin, encouraging me to open my mouth which I do with almost no hesitation.
"I don't know" I whisper but he leans in closer, bringing his lips closer to mine. "I think you're lying" he say, his warm breath fanning my face, promises of pleasure hidden behind those words and it has me whimpering at the thought. 
"Y/n, earth to y/n" Jungkook says, bursting the bubble of the incredibly inappropriate daydream I had been having in front of him. "I-i'm sorry what was that?" I stutter, making it clear that I hadn't been paying attention. 
"Maybe you're running a fever" he says, walking over to me and placing the back of his hand to my forehead, his cool hand causing a shiver to run down my spine. "What makes you say that?" I ask, looking up at him, taking in his features from our closer proximity. "Because you're burning up, and your whole face has gone red" he says and I feel my cheeks getting even more red at his observation. 
"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, making purposeful eye contact with me. "Yeah I just, I think I need to go lay down for a while" I say, finding the easiest escape route possible. "That's probably a good idea. I shouldn't have kept you out for so long" he says, guilt clouding his expression and I take one of his hands in mine without giving it a second thought making him jolt for a second but tighten his hold around mine just seconds later. 
"I'm fine don't worry" I say with a small smile, "It was my fault for drinking so much. If I'm ever around you again and there's alcohol involved could you do me a favor and stop me from drinking so much" I laugh, trying to lift his spirits and it seems to do the trick. 
"Of course darling" he says and places a kiss on the center of my forehead. "Now go lay down, you really are burning up" he says, having felt the heat radiating off of me from the kiss he had graced me with. I smile up at him and nod my head before turning around and heading back to my room. 
Living with him might not be so bad. It's been a while since someone's taken care of me or even shown me such simple kindness without needing anything in return. I'm not sure if it would be the smartest decision but I'm definitely warming up to the idea...
prev / next Series Masterlist Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie
Join my Taglist!
Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)
508 notes · View notes
libraryofgage · 4 months
Text
Addams Family B-Side (3)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)
Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol
Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol
There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘
--------
For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.
Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.
He names her Nox.
Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.
The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.
Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.
Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.
He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.
"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."
Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."
"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."
"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."
Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.
"Just beer then?"
"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."
He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.
Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.
"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.
Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."
"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.
With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"
Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"
Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.
"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.
Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.
"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.
"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.
Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.
He's going to kill Pubert Addams.
--------
Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"
Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.
Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.
"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."
She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."
And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.
By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.
Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"
"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"
"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."
Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."
"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"
"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."
Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.
"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."
"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.
Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."
Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."
"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."
"What comes first?"
Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."
"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"
"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."
--------
Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.
He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.
Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.
Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.
That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.
The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.
"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."
Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."
Smooth. Real smooth.
When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.
He can't wait.
-------
Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)
@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara
@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest
And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
486 notes · View notes
lesbiankimdahyun · 5 months
Text
good evening i've been um.,,.,. Thinking about GP!Momo lately...
Tumblr media
CW: degradation, light bdsm (Momo slaps R, has control over her but it’s CONSENSUAL)
The bed shakes as Momo plows into you, her favorite little stress reliever. She’s been extra vocal in bed this time and it only sends you further and further into subspace. “You’re so pathetic,” she says with a grunt, greedily stuffing more of her cock inside you. “Look how wet your pussy got for me after I called you stupid. Do you really like that?” She notices you looking at her breasts instead of her eyes and promptly slaps the side of your face, making you look up at her with a moan. 
“Dumb little slut, is my body that distracting to you?” Momo’s voice is a mix of honey and venom and your cheek burns as you watch her lips move. “Can’t even answer me when you’re being fucked, huh? At least you take my cock well.” 
Her words sink deeply into your head. You relish being degraded like this, talked down to  and humiliated until your body and mind are free range for Momo to wreak havoc on. Your eyes are hooded, your mouth open. Her cock fills you so deeply, it takes almost all of your energy just to keep your eyes on her and pant with each of her thrusts. 
“That’s it, baby,” she coos, one hand moving closer to grip your throat lightly. “Keep that pretty little head nice and empty for me. No need to try and think-- I know you can’t. Not when your sweet little cunt is being filled, right? I’ll do all the thinking for you.” 
Both of you pant heavily, sweat forming across both of your brows. Your pussy clenches around her length eagerly, and Momo laughs at the lewd squelching sounds. 
“Damn, baby,” she says with an amused huff. “You really like this? Maybe next time I should offer you to Jihyo first if you wanna be used so badly.” You look up at her and her hand around your neck loosens for a moment. She meets your gaze readily, challenging you to call her bluff.  
Except, you realize, she really means it. And you’d let her.
You nod a little, making her smirk.
“Oh, now you can respond?” she says, gritting her teeth. Her hand finds its place around your throat again, gripping a little tighter this time. “God, you’d really let me share you with anyone as long as they’d breed you, huh? You’re really fucking filthy, aren’t you?”
Her pace is merciless now and you cry out, scrabbling to grab onto her, any part of her for some support. Your hands claw at her back and arms but by this point it’s nearly useless– you were both about to reach your peaks. 
“Don't forget, you easy little whore,” Momo leans down to purr in your ear, “No matter who I let touch you… you belong to me.”
Your jaw drops, but no sound comes out. It’s enough to send you both over the edge– knowing that not only would you let Momo say the most degrading things to you again, but she would let you be passed off to one of her friends like the toy you so badly wanted to be. 
You come at the same time. She’s surprised since you usually come after her, but it adds even more to both of your pleasure and she shudders a little, spilling into you with a sharp exhale. 
Momo thrusts a few more times into you, wanting to make sure you're nice and bred before she finally starts to come down a bit from her high. She peers down at you, making sure you’re okay while the two of you are still connected at the hips. It’s that tiny slip— that microsecond of tenderness while she’s still in a more dominant headspace that flips a switch in you, making you a little more desperate suddenly.
As Momo catches her breath, you whine a little, moving your hips with her still inside you.
“Baby?” She watches your hips start to find their own rhythm as you work fervently to grind down on her. Her cock was still hard but sensitive; she wasn’t quite ready to go again. 
“N-need more,” you whine pathetically, finally finding your voice as you started to fuck yourself on her cock. 
“Fuck,” Momo replies, sucking in her breath. She watches as you begin to mewl, desperate for stimulation, and some of her sensitivity subsides. She still couldn’t fuck you, but she hums from the pleasure of you working yourself around her cock. “You’re unbelievable,” she says, her tone cruel as ever. “You just came and already need more? Cock-hungry slut.” 
You can only nod and whine, reaching for her. She denies you of being able to hold onto her, instead taking your hands and pinning them down to the side of the bed. “Ah, ah," she says. "You wanna come so bad? Keep riding.” Momo watches in satisfactory amusement while you do just that, working yourself back up to the edge of another orgasm. 
It doesn’t take long at all. Your body is incredibly sensitive like hers and it's borderline overwhelming, but you can’t stop. Momo lets out a low moan, watching you intently. Her gaze makes you feel small and exposed as she watches you squirm and whine, your hips gyrating and thrusting desperately while you rub away at your soaked clit. 
“Go on baby,” she purrs, seeing your own slick start to drip down your fingers. “Come on my cock again, I know you want to.” 
It’s as close as you’ve ever gotten to coming on command. Your breath hitches and you gush around her length, trembling and gasping. Momo, feeling you clench around her cock, bites back a moan. She’s ready to have at you again but holds back, releasing your hands from being held down and leaning in to kiss your sweaty forehead instead.  
She brushes her hand against your cheek lightly, admiring the redness from her earlier slap and you relax into her touch. When you’re finally able to, you sit up a bit and Momo slides out of you slowly. Your cum runs down her stiff cock, making her dick twitch with want as she watches a mix of both of your cum leak out of you. You’ve made a mess on the sheets again, but Momo never minds cleaning you up (or the sheets). 
The two of you sit back together for a minute or so, and then Momo helps you stand. You wobble unsteadily on your feet, barely able to speak. In lieu of your voice, you plant appreciative kisses along her cheek and neck, making Momo laugh lightly. 
“Baby,” she says, gripping your ass in her hand. “You’ve been so good and I understand if you’re too tired…but if I hold you up, do you think you could take me once more in the shower?”
Your eyes light up immediately. “Yes,” you breathe eagerly. You will your tired body to lead the way for her, but she holds onto your arm, slowing you down so you won’t fall on shaky legs. “Easy, jagi,” she murmurs, a smile at the corner of her lips. “One more time and then we’ll clean you up and get some rest, yeah?”
361 notes · View notes
just-null-cult · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kokichi, similar to Noritoshi in the sense that they're analytical and kinda tsun, but that's mostly it. This is another Megumi and Noritoshi situation where, on the surface, they appear to be very similar, but you squint and realize they're extremely different.
Whereas Noritoshi isn't as bold because he still holds remnants of pride, Kokichi is just shy about it since it's so new. He won't back down from it, just hesitate.
[Long ass rambles under the cut! + bonus doodles.]
Tumblr media
When referring to shyness, Kokichi leans into the awkward and stiff type. There's always confusion and slight fear in his eyes when he's experiencing something new or romantic. He doesn't want to mess up, but if he does, he just hopes it works in his favor.
Being born in a body where he was under constant pain and stress, someone touching him was the last thing he wanted. He'd never known the loving touch of another because the heavens decided he wasn't allowed to.
After meeting you, that yearning to be next to you became too much. To hell with his restrictions. He'd to do whatever it takes to be able to be with you even if he had to sacrifice others to do it.
In retrospect, he feels like he should've done it sooner. Being touched or even grazed doesn't feel like his skin is falling off anymore.. Plus having both arms and working legs is always a good thing. It's new and odd, but not terrible. His mind never once wandered back and regretted those he's thrown under the bus because why would it?
Unfortunately, when his body was being healed, Mahito made him healthy.. and that's all. Knowing Mahito, he'd leave Kokichi to struggle with catching up to the rest of his peers by working for his own stamina, weight, and strength from square one. Though Kokichi isn't complaining much about it. He'd still take this rather than being stuck in that god forsaken tub for a second longer.
He used to hate being fussed over because of his illness. He prefers to do things on his own and now he can. Yet, Kokichi still gets pitiful looks on other's faces when he's too weak to carry something. It makes him want to spit at them, he can use Mechamaru to do his heavy lifting for now. He doesn't need a beefed up body to do it.
Unless you're the "beefed up" one fussing over him.. He doesn't mind it when it's you. In fact, Kokichi feels grateful when it's you, endeared even. He never feels belittled or pitiful when its you.. Only you.
Judging by how he treated panda for having the ability to interact with others in person despite being a cursed corpse, Kokichi has a number of insults and creative verbal abuse he's ready to spew out once someone tries getting a little too close to you. Scratch that, he's rude in general to those he isn't familiar with.
Kokichi has a lot of anger for those he deems ungrateful. What do you expect from someone who thought he was gonna rot in a bathtub for the rest of his life to do? Not harbor resentment? Luckily, he holds just as much, if not more, love for you who he's unbelievably grateful for!
Your affection is so odd to him, a new experience that he never knew he could grow to yearn for. It's not terrible, quite the opposite. It's so wonderful he can't get enough. Every time you're around, he wants to have at least one hand on you at all times. Doesn't matter where, just as long as he feels you're around. Safe to say, he's extremely touch starved.
Oh how Kokichi would drop everything for a walk with you. He'd use every Mechamaru he had just to make sure no one disturbs either of you. Murder is just a side effect if they get too persistent. He just wants to spend time with you!
Though he likes walks, he still gets out of breath easily. Walking is nice, but he still needs time to get used to it. Offering to help will only cause him to lean against you, it's not too difficult, he doesn't weigh much for better or worse. He loves when you lend him a hand, it's just another reason to get close to you.
When you part, it's only natural that Kokichi gifts you a little trinket he made. Rejecting it will only reward you with the most devastated frown, so just accept it. If you get rid of it when coming home, it somehow always finds its way back to you? Destroying it will lead to Kokichi giving you another one.
Yes, it follows and watches you, but it's just to keep you safe! Who knows what could happen. Whether or not the little trinkets are subtle, all depends on how you reacted to him asking if it was alright to know your location at all times when he's not around. Kokichi is understanding if you're not okay with it. He'll just make his gifts extra subtle so you wont know he's watching.
He just wants to be by your side constantly, even if he's not able to be there in person. Watching you through a screen gives him a sickly familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it's better than not knowing what you're doing. He can even pick up little things about you this way for when he sees you next time! This is nothing but a win-win in his mind even if others beg to differ.
Kokichi never felt blessed. Not once since the day he was born, not until he found you. You who he feels is truly a gift from the heavens. You who he would give up everything to have. In a way, Kokichi is delusional. He sees you as the reason he got a heavenly restriction. It was as if other worldly forces tried to keep him at bay from pursuing you, but you're also the reason he broke his restrictions. He now has the body he wished for thanks to you, his drive, his motivation, his purpose, his love.
[extra shit]
Kokichi’s so fucking low key about being a chuunibyou. you're telling me he named his mech after an anime he watched. half his attacks have ultimate or ultra in the name.. HE MADE A FUCKING MECH. Your ass can't tell me he didn't watch anime while growing up and got inspired to make it a reality. He probably watched Evangelion or something.. Woah, anime dates with him where he makes your favorite creature and uses it to his advantage.. woah.
[Bonus Kokichi verbal abuse]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
255 notes · View notes
afro-hispwriter · 1 year
Text
Rhaegar’s Nameday
Tumblr media
Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!reader x Aegon ii Targaryen
Summary- it's Rhaegar's name day and he's in for a few surprises 
Warnings- poly relationships, Aegon is scared of a 6-year-old, use of the word whore and bastard, brief smut, y/n being a worried mother, Aemond gets a daemon moment
Part of ‘A Good Wife’ Universe 
Wc-4.8k
-
"Cake, music, and food are finalized." You say as you cheek off the boxes. "I am never planning his birthdays again." You were stressed out for Rhaegars Nameday as well as planning your wedding. 
"You should have let us do something." Aemond kisses the top of your head. 
"He's turning six, it needs to be perfect." 
"He'll love anything, Rhaegar is not an ungrateful boy," Aegon says from behind you. Aemond then pushed some of your hair away from your neck and started kissing down your neck. You let yourself relax into the kisses even throwing your head back slightly. 
"Aegon." Kiss. "Help me take care of our princess." It wasn't long before you felt a second pair of lips on your neck. 
"Not ready." You say and reach up to grab the back of their necks. "Few more weeks." 
"We don't need to fuck you with our cocks to help you relax," Aegon says. "Stand up." You did as he instructed and they started guiding you to the bed. Aegon sat down first and pulled you on his lap, he then placed his hands on your hips and started grinding you against his leg.
"Mmm." Aemond sat down next to you and slowly started pulling down the top of your dress. When your breasts popped out Aemond immediately attached his mouth and started sucking. As you were still lactating his mouth was flooded with milk. You tugged on Aemonds scalp and he groaned. "More." Aemond pulled away then grabbed your dress and pulled it over your thighs. He dropped lowered and started kissing and sucking close to your mound.
None of you heard the door opening, it was the small gasp that made you all jump apart. 
"Rhaegar!" You exclaimed and pulled your skirt down. Aemond sat on the ground and wiped his mouth. 
"What's wrong?" Aemond says and Aegon shifts uncomfortably and moves from behind you.
"Why is uncle Aegon kissing momma like that?" He instantly frowned and you saw his eye start to gloss. "Do you not love each other anymore?" 
"Oh, baby." You frowned and stood up to go to your son. You picked him up and started walking back, Aemond sitting on the bed now. You say in between the two brothers. 
"Rhaegar, your mother and I love each other very much still." 
"But why-." He started but you cut him off.
"Shh. You know the story of our ancestor Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives?" He nodded. "Me and your father had to marry for duty but it turned into love very quickly, we were in love before the wedding." You looked at Aemond and smiled at him, he was already smiling, thinking of all the fun you had. "Now I know it's not quite the same as them but we love uncle Aegon, just like me and your father love each other." 
"So father and uncle are like Rhaenys and Visenya and you are Aegon... in a way? Do they fight over you?" You laughed.
"Not anymore and yes I guess you could say that." 
"Are you going to marry uncle?" 
"Son," Aemond says, pulling Rhaegar's attention to him. "We should also tell you that yes your mother is marrying Aegon but it's not just her marrying him, as I as well." Rhaegar took in the information, he may not understand completely, but he knew enough.
"Okay. Will uncle be my father now? Since you're marrying him?" Your breath hitched and you looked at Aegon. 
"Rhaegar." He says. "You don't have to call me father, I can always be uncle it's whatever you are comfortable with." The little boy nodded. 
"Does that mean when you have uncle's children I'll have to fight them for a place in court?" You all raised your eyebrows in confusion.
"No, no you don't have to worry about that." You knew why he asked that. "Our situation is similar to Aegon and his wives but it isn't the same as Visenya and Rhaenys fighting for their sons to have the throne." 
"Oh okay." You sighed. You had to tell him about Elyas. "Rhaegar, about Elyas." 
"Y/n." Says Aegon and he was staring at you almost pleading for you to stop. 
"He must know." Rhaegar tilted his head to the aide and waited. 
"Elyas is your half-brother... so he is Aegons, son." He didn't answer he just furrowed his eyebrows and you gently passed your hand into his silver curls.
"He is still my brother, and I will still protect him just like I protect Aerys." His words couldn't help but bring tears to your eyes. "Can you take me to bed momma?"
 "Of course my little dragon." 
-
"We should've told him when this started." You groaned as you entered the room. "This could ruin his whole day tomorrow." Aemond sighed and walked to you.
"Y/n it's going to be alright, Rhaegars is still young and doesn't understand what it all means yet."
"Aemond me and you both know our son isn't stupid." 
"Yes, I know." Aemond pulled you in his arms and gives you a big hug
"Well to me he took it quite well," Aegon interjects and you peered over Aemonds shoulder to glare at him.
-
"Aemomd what if he's not ready?" You ask him as the five of you walk to Rhaegar's room, Elyas strapped to your chest and Aerys in Aegons arms.
"My love me and you watch Rhaegar train with Aemond and Daemon all the time, we all know how good he has gotten." 
"I know, I know you're right I just don't want him to hurt himself." 
"He will not because I am going to go over the rules," Aemond says while he holds a long skinny box that carried Rhaegars present. It took a while to convince you to let him get a sword for his son. It was a small one, suitable for a six-year-old. You knocked on his door but received no response. 
"He is asleep." You opened the door and walked in. Rhaegar was curled up in his sheets, sleeping soundly. "Rhaegar." You shook him gently and he started to stir. 
"Muña?" He asks groggily.
"Happy name day my little dragon." He shot up immediately and a bright smile came to his face. You bent down and started kissing him all over his face, he giggled and moved away. He looked down to see Elyas' head poking out from the swaddle. 
"Hello, Elyas." He whispers and kisses his brother on the head. You turned your head to Aemond and Aegon and gave them a knowing smile. He the. looked around and saw his father, uncle, and little brothers. Rhaegar shuffled off the bed and immediately wrapped his arms around your legs then he ran to his father. Aemond set the case on the floor and went down to one knee and pulled his son in. 
"I remember when you were such a small thing." He placed a soft kiss on Rhaegars cheek. Aerys squirmed in Aegons and he set him, the little toddler then stumbled towards his father and brother to join the hug, laying his cheek on Aemonds bicep. Rhaegar pulled away and took a few steps to his uncle. 
"Morning, uncle." 
"Happy name day, Rhaegar." Aegon ruffled his nephew's curly silver hair and he giggled. You sat on the small bed and Aemond picked up the case.
"Rhaegar come here," Aemond says and Rhaegar started walking towards him. 
"Yes, father?" 
"I have a gift for you but you need to understand that this isn't a toy." He turned around and you saw your son's eyes brighten. 
"A sword? For me?" He instantly reached out for it, and Aemond placed it in his small hands. He instantly adjusted it in his hands to hold the handle.
"You will not swing this sword while your brothers or little cousins are near, this sword is for training purposes. Do I may myself clear? Because me and your mother will not hesitate to take it away from you, she knows how to handle a blade." 
"Yes, father." Rhaegar lowered the blade to his side. Aemond felt satisfied and turned back to grab the belt that contained the holster. 
"Put this on once you get ready." Rhaegar nodded and you smiled.
"Eowyn will escort you, we will be in the dining hall waiting, do not take long."  You say and he nods. You all start making your way out the door, Aerys holding your skirt with his thumb in his mouth.
When the door closed Rhaegar couldn't help but feel overjoyed. The events from the previous night washed away. The new sense of responsibility and freedom from his parents overthrew everything.
-
"The tourney is being prepared as we speak, it should be finished by noon." Says Daemon who was balancing Aerys on his knee.
"Good, we already have guests and other houses arriving." You say as you fed Elyas. "As well as Daeron and his wife."
"That's good, w-will my mother be there?" Asks Aegon, and as you were trying to come up with the words, Rhaenyra beat you to it. 
"Yes, Lady Alicent will be attending, she will be with us but has stated she won't be speaking to any of us or anything of the sort." Aemond and Aegon both bit their cheeks and they fumbled with their hands awkwardly. They loved their mother, no matter how much they went through with her, especially Aegon. It hurt that she wouldn't speak to them. 
Alicent only spent her visit with Helaena and her children. She visited Rhaegar and Aerys and only greeted Elyas if he was in the room, never seeking him out. Her and Rhaenyra's relationship was beyond repair when Rhaenyra was crowned queen and beheaded her father. Maybe he deserved it maybe he didn't, he caused Rhaenyra suffering during her youth and turned many people against her, as well as trying to unsurp the throne to put Aegon on there but it was shut down. 
"But on the bright side, Rhaena and Baela are arriving with Jace and Luke soon, and they'll be staying for the wedding." You say trying to brighten up the mood. Of course, you couldn't let your younger sisters in the dark, they knew everything that happened, and no doubt their husbands do too. "Daeron should also be arriving with Lady Baratheon but after the tourney, just in time for the celebration." 
"Ah, the man of the hour." Your father says as he looks at the big doors. You turn to see your son standing there with a big smile on his face. 
"Join us Rhaegar." Aemond patted a seat next to him and Rhaegar started walking towards him. Ser Eowyn trailed behind and pulled the chair back for Rhaegar and let him slide in before pushing it forward and stepping back. 
"How has your day been?" Asks Rhaenerya and you swore you could see the boy shake in excitement.
"Father has gifted me a sword!" 
"Oh, how exciting." She responds
"Lucky." Jaearhys pouts from the other side and Aegon raises an eyebrow.
"Well maybe if you attended your lessons you'd also have one." He poked his son's belly and he giggled. 
"Alright let us eat, we are all famished." The queen says and instantly the food is brought out. Everyone dug in, passing plates of food around so everyone got their share.
"Aemond are you ready?" Suddenly asks Daemon from across the table. You looked at both of them and set your utensils down.
"Ready for what?" 
"Father and Grandsire are going to be fighting against each other during the tourney." Your eyes widened as did everyone else's at Rhaegars words.
"Aemond, my love weren't you the one who said that you didn't give a shit about the tourney?" You placed a hand on his bicep and squeezed.
"I know what I said but my son wanted this and I will go through with it." You took in a deep breath before sitting back in your chair and grabbing the utensils again. 
"Okay." You say almost in an amusing tone, the tone that scared Aemond quite a bit. "Rhaegar, what else would you like to do before the Tourney?" 
"Um, would it be okay if uncle Aegon took me on Sunfyre?" Everyone looked at Aegon who had a blank stare. 
"You'd have to ask him." You felt Aegon place a hand on your thigh and squeeze. 
"If that's what you'd like, Sunfyre has been dying for a flight." Rhaegar nodded and sat back in his seat. Aegon released his grip on your leg and rubbed his thumb up and down. 
"It's going to be alright." 
Aegon didn't know if he believed you. 
-
As the dragon keepers brought out Sunfyre from the pit, Aegon was fastening the last pieces of his riding gear as you helped Rhaegar into his. Aemond had to go and prepare himself to fight. He left quickly, as much as he loved you he did not want to hear an earful from you. 
"Calm down Rhaegear." You say trying to calm him down. 
"Im just so excited." He says, practically bouncing on his heels.
"I know baby." Sunfyre crawled out of the pit and let out a roar. Aegon mumbled something to his golden dragon while rubbing his large nose and the dragon seemed to respond in his own way. To say you weren't jealous of their bond was an understatement. Vermithor is your grumpy dragon but you know the two of you love each other.
"Whenever you are ready Rhaegar." Says Aegon as he now waits patiently by Sunfyre. 
"Okay go." You say and he shot off to his uncle. You walked towards them and Aegon opened his arm.
"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" 
"I'm sure, have fun now." You kissed the edge of his mouth. Aegon smiled and nuzzled your cheek with his nose and placed a kiss on your jaw. 
Rhaegar looked up at his mother and uncle and furrowed his eyebrows at the man. But seeing the growing smile that adorned his mother's face made him relax. 
"Alright ill go up first, Rhaegar you follow, carefully." Aegon started his way up Sunfyre and settled on the saddle. He then leaned to the side and held his hand out. Rhaegar grabbed on the ropes and hoisted himself up like he's done many times before. Aegon grabbed the boy a lifted him up onto the saddle.
"Come back before the tourney." 
"Yes, princess." Aegon winked at you. "Soves Sunfyre." You stepped back as the golden dragon started walking towards the large exit before opening his wings and taking off. 
-
"Where do you want to go?" Asks Aegon as they now flew over the Keep. 
"Can we go over the sea?" 
"Of course." He urged Sunfyre to the direction of the water and it wasn't long until they were over it. 
"I love the water, do you?" Rhaegar asks and Aegon just chuckles. 
"It makes me quite uneasy." 
"Hmm." He grunted and Aegon smiled at the familiar sound. 
"I remember my mom crying a lot and my parents fighting." 
"Parents fighting is the worst," Aegon says, memories of his youth coming to mind.
"My father made my mother sad, but you make her happy... do you love my mother?" 
"Of course, I love her more than life itself." 
"Good, because if you didn't I'd have to kill you." 
To say Aegon didn't fall nervous is an understatement. His eye flashed to the side and saw Rhaegars little hand on the handle of his sword. 
"If you hurt her, I will hurt you." Receiving a threat from a 6-year-old was not something Aegon was expecting. 
"I wouldn't dream of hurting your mother." 
"Good." A silence fell over them, Sunfyre flapping in the air. "I'm still going to call you uncle, but I wouldn't mind if Aerys calls you father, he is still young, and doesn't understand." 
Aegon's hands started to twitch as he tightened them.
"I appreciate that, but in the end, it's truly up to your parents."
"I know." Rhaegar looked down to see a ship flying the Velaryon and Targaryen flags. "I think those are my aunts and uncles." Aegon looked down and smiled. 
"Why don't we go great them?" 
"Really?" Rhaegar looked up at him with large violet eyes. 
"Of course, I never miss a chance to give our family a scare." They smile at each other mischievously before Aegon urged Sunfyre to go up near the sun.
"Why so high?" 
"Im assuming nobody has taught you battle tactics on dragon back?" Rhaegar shakes his head. "Well, say the enemy has yet to spit you yet, if you fly up just enough towards the sun the glare of it will shine on your enemies preventing them from seeing you until you're already attacking." 
"That is smart." When they got into position Aegon made sure to tighten his arm around Rhaegar tightly. 
"Hold on." Sunfyre started to dip down towards the ships. Rhaegar giggled and laughed as the fast winds almost blew him away. But just before Sunfyre hit the water, Aegon pulled the reins gently and the dragon straighten out just behind the ships. The force Sunfyre created brought water in waves behind him, completely drenching the people in the ships. People shouted in displeasure as they watched the golden dragon take off.
"Sorry, Auntie," Rhaegear yelled loudly down to the ships and the twin sisters just shook their heads in displeasure when they noticed who it was. 
-
"Please do not injure yourself or get killed by my father, he has many reasons to kill you." You say as you stand in the corner of Aemonds tent.
"He won't kill me, hurt me yes." He mumbles and you sigh. "When are Rhaegear and Aegon returning?"
"Hopefully-." You were cut off by the tent opening and a little boy running in. 
"Father! Aegon took me so high up and we snuck up on my aunts and uncles it was exhilarating!" Rhaegar practically threw himself at Aemond. 
"And how did you do that?" As Rhaegar explain the tactic to his father(that Aemond already knew), Aegon leaned over to you.
"He threatened me." Your eyes widened and Aegon just holds his hand out.
"It's alright, he must get it from being with Daemon so much. He just wanted to protect you." 
"Hmph, doesn't mean it's right. Rhaegar let's go see your grandfather then sit down." You walked to them and placed a hand on Aemonds shoulder. "I'll see you later." You pecked his lips a few times before Aemond deepened it. 
Rhaegar looked back at Aegon and he stuck his tongue out in disgust. Aegon chuckled at the reaction and shook his head. 
"See you out there." 
The brothers watched you leave hand in hand with Rhaegar.
"Well, now Daemon can now kill you without any legal consequences." 
"I know." 
"Don't die. Please." The sudden crack in Aegon's voice caught Aemond off guard. "Imagine how destroyed Y/n would be, your children, our mother, Helaena... Me. I've grown to really care about you brother." Aemond swallowed thickly and looked down.
"As have I." He says quietly. "I'm not dying, I can't even fathom leaving any of you behind." 
"Good."
Aegon couldn't help but walk up to his brother and place his hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down. Aemond hesitated slightly but let his brother place his slightly chapped lips on his cheek. Aegon let his lips linger before pulling back. Aemond turned his head letting the tips of their noses brush gently.
"Kiss me." It came out a small whimper almost, Aegon could barely hear it. 
"Win and I will." 
Aegon settled in beside you and you immediately grabbed his hand. 
"Did you talk to Daemon?" 
"Yes and he said he wouldn't kill him, but that doesn't mean he won't do something." 
"It's going to be fine." He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. He heard a familiar laugh to his side and looked to see his mother laughing with her ladies-in-waiting. He searched for her eyes but received nothing.
The Herald stepped out onto the ground and started saying what he had to say. It was quite boring so you just chose not to pay attention. 
"Now for our first fight. Our Prince Consort, Daemon Targaryen versus Prince Aemond Targaryen." People cheered and screamed for them, you tried but only clapping came out. 
Daemon came out on a black horse wearing his helmet with dragon wings on it. Aemond then came out on his grey horse he's had since his teens, he wore his heavy armor and a helmet that didn't hide most of his face, so it would make it easier on his eyesight.
They trotted their horses to the royal family stand and stopped side by side. 
"I would like to ask for the favor of the Queen," Daemon says and lowers his head. Everyone looked at Rhaenyra and she stood up and walked to the table that carried all the favors of the other ladies and princess. They both smiled at each other, such admiration in their eyes. 
"Princess Y/n, may I have your favor, it shall help ease me into victory." You grabbed your favor and tossed it on the poll. You leaned against the railing and frowned. "Don't do that gevie, ill be fine."
"Okay." You immediately turned away and sat back next to Aegon, watching the two men go to their spots. Aegon looked at you and watched a tear run down your cheek. 
"Hey hey, don't do that." He grabbed your chin and tilted you towards him. "He's gonna be fine."
The Targaryen men went to their respective sides and waited for the horns. A fanfare started playing followed by drums. The Herold raised his flag and quickly lowered it. 
They yelled and urged their horses to run. Right before they reached the middle, they lowered their poles down. But before they touched you instantly looked away just hearing the crash. Rhaegar cheered beside and Aegon elbowed you. 
"Still on their horses." He kissed the side of your head. They were on opposite sides now, grabbing new polls to charge back at each other. This was usually the time when one would be knocked down, and it's never Daemon. 
Aemond crashed to the floor and everyone sucked in a breath. Daemon hopped off his horse and was handed the Dark Sister and a shield. Aemonds sword was thrown at him and landed next to his head.
"Fuck." He groaned already regretting agreeing to this. He scrambled to his feet, swiping the sword in the process. Daemon was looking at him in amusement while slowly walking towards him. "Remember our agreement uncle?" Daemon just chuckled.
"Yes I know, but you think I will let you win so quickly without me getting a few strikes in." Daemon raised his sword to strike but was blocked by Aemonds shield. They grunted and yelled as they clashed. People cheered but Rhaegar seemed the loudest. He cheered for both his grandpa and father. 
"You're getting old uncle," Aemond says as he watches Daemon pant and limp. 
"And I can still kick your ass." It seemed to spur Daemon on so he charged. Aemomd doges and swung his sword back slashing Daemon. He cradled his side as blood started seeping through. 
“I doubt that.” Aemomd almost laughed and they clashed again. It wasn’t long until Aemond manages to trick his uncle and knocked him to the ground. The people cheered loudly, some yelling to Aemond to finish Daemon. 
“In any other circumstance, I would run you through,” Daemon says as Aemonds blade sits on his jugular. 
“Not with your son here you won’t.” Aemond let the blade slice the skin slightly and watched the blood start to ooze out before pulling the sword away. 
Aemond didn’t dwell on his victory and limped away from all the cheering.
-
The party was in full swing. The people were dancing and getting drunk. And it was now at the point where you could relax and enjoy yourself after feeding Elyas and making sure Aerys was asleep. 
Rhaegar was enjoying the party, mostly because he got to play around with his cousins. Daemon has gifted him a small dagger and has been warned multiple times to not pull it out on his cousins. 
Aemond got patched up but the fall from the tourney has kept him sat for the entire party.
Aegon drank wine but only small sips so he doesn’t drink much, while he twirled Jaehaera around. 
You on the other hand got whisked away by your father for a dance.
“You bounced back quicker than Aemond.” You laugh and he chuckles. 
“He still has much to learn if he ever wants to be as good as me.” 
“He will be better.” You say and look at your husband who was in deep conversation with the queen. “I know it.” 
“Hmm, Aegon seems to be doing better.”
“He is.”
“Does Rhaegar know? About the three of you?” 
“He does, it will be slow but I know he will accept.” You look up and him and he smiles. 
“I'm so proud of you.” He says and grabs the side of your head and placed a kiss on your forehead. Tears start to well up in your eyes and you sniffed. 
“Thank you.” You wrapped your arms around his body and held him tight. Daemon hugged you back tightly, but the moment was short-lived. 
Some bumped into you harshly making you stumble. 
“Excuse me?” Daemon starts and he pulls away. An older man, a lord really, turns around and scoffs. “Apologize to the Princess.” Daemon places his hand on the hilt of his sword, at this point people have stopped and looked, Aegon ushered his daughter to her mother and moved his way to the crowd to stand next to you and grab your arms. 
“I will not apologize to that whore.” People gasped and Aegons hands tightened. “She is unfaithful to her husband and had a bastard child with her husband’s brother, now the three of them are to be wed.” 
“Choose your next words carefully, Lord,” Aegon says, darkly almost. 
“I will not listen to a man who intends to marry a whore, and fathers a bastard at that. Who knows maybe all her fucking children are bastards. AHH FUCK.” He was suddenly stabbed in the thigh. When you all looked you saw Rhaegar holding his new dagger to the Lord's leg. “Oh, you stupid cunt.” The lord shoved Rhaegar hard to the ground earning more gasps. 
“Shoving a Prince is Treason, Take him!” Rhaenerya yells at her guards and they start moving but it was too late. The lord suddenly had no head. His body fell to the ground and his head rolled toward the people. Aemond stood above him already cleaning his sword.
“Tis not a party without a death.” 
You instantly ran to Rhaegar and grabbed him from the floor. 
“Oh, my sweet dragon are you alright?” 
��Yes, mama.” He says but you could see tears. “I wanted to protect you.” 
“And you did,” Aemond says and crouches behind him. “You did well.” Rhaegar dug his face into your neck and you pulled him in tight. Aemond kissed both of your heads before standing. “I think we should turn in.” You nodded in agreement and kissed Rhaegars cheek before standing. 
“Let's get you to bed.” You walked past everyone and left with Ser Eoywn in tow. 
“I will oversee that the cunt is made into dragon food, the two of you should go with her.” 
“We will,” Aegon says and tugs on Aemonds arm. 
-
“Okay go get ready and you can sleep with us tonight.” You tell Rhaegar and his eyes light up.
“Okay.” He runs out of the room almost knocking into Awmond and Aegon on the way. 
“He is going to spend the night with us.” You tell them and they say nothing.
“Are you alright?” 
“I guess.” Aegon pulled you into a hug.
“Don’t listen to what they say, it's not true.”
“I know.” You kiss his neck and pull away. You looked at Aemond and smile. “I love you so much.” 
“I love you too.” 
Rhaegar came in already for bed. 
“Im ready.” You all laughed and he climbed on the huge bed. 
“We’re going to get ready for bed you just wait there.” You say and walk away to change. Aemond goes to follow but Rhaegar calls for him. 
“Kepa.” He turns around to his son.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for protecting me and mama.” Aemond can't help but smile.
“I will always protect all of you, u til my last breath.” 
-
A/n- this was unnecessarily too fucking long
826 notes · View notes
oneofthetorturedpoets · 6 months
Text
She’s a maneater part 1/?
Tumblr media
parings: melissa schemmenti x reader
warnings for this chapter: melissa is a bully
-
you woke up with a jolt as the blanket was ripped off of you for the fifth time that night.
"oh my god, melissa" you groan, turning over, expecting to see her sleeping but shes wide awake on her side, with her head resting on her hand.
"you kept letting go of me and im tired of it." you chuckle slightly, trying to ignore your irritation. you pull her into you quickly, she yelps out. you lean in close.
"a simple ask would do you just fine, my love." you whisper against her lips.
"well, you know me, stubborn as always" she smiles and connects your lips, the domestic nature causing your heart to stutter, she pulls away slowly, her hand coming to your cheek. "I love you."
you and melissa weren’t always this way, it took a lot to get where you are now.
-
you were late your first day, traffic was stressing you out and you struggled to find parking spot in such a busy street, you had to park 5 minutes away. you were rushing into the school doors, through the hallway when-
BAM.
you slam right into the red headed teacher. her papers went flying and so did your ego. the look she gave you might as well killed you.
“i am so sorry-” she immediately drops to the floor, grabbing her stuff. you follow, trying to compensate for your clumsiness.
“why are you running through the doors anyways? if your kid is late then sign the damn tardy slip” angry radiating from her words.
“oh no- i don’t have a kid. i work here. i actually just got hired” her head swings over to look at you. you wish the earth would swallow you whole.
“30 minutes late on your first day” she scoffs. “great first impression, you’ll definitely get along with ava” she storms off, leaving me confused and flustered.
I walk down the hallways to the principals office, Ava is already leaning on the door frame, ready to great me.
"you're late." she says, sternly.
"I know, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find a parking spot so I parked super-"
"it was a joke, I don't care" she walks into her office. "pshhh no one told me I hired another Janine." she laughs, looking at the camera. the guy zooms in on my confused face. "anyways, you're in room 12, just down the hall, where you came in. your kids are currently with ms. schemmenti's class, room 13, you're taking her third graders also. if you talk to Melissa, she'll sort out who's who's." Ava's already on tiktok, laughing about a video before I can respond.
its going to be a long day.
-
I look up at the sign on the door that says room 13, I take a deep breath before opening the door, knocking as I do so. All of the attention is on me as the room goes quite. I look around the room, only seeing the students.
"hey kids! I'm the new third grade teacher that's going to be next door." they all shout hi in return. "where's your teacher?" I ask as the door opens again.
"oh god, not you again." I spin around, seeing the same redhead from earlier.
"uh- hi, im y/n y/ln. the teacher next door" I say, holding my hand out waiting for hers. she looks down at my hand and then back up at me, before rolling her eyes.
"alright guys! this is ms. y/ln, she will be taking half of you's with her, so if you're in third grade, please line up at the door, single file!" the students jump up, lining up in an almost perfect line.
"thank you, ms. schemmenti, if you need anything, ill be just over there." I say as I point towards the wall. she doesn't even look at me so I take it as a hint to leave.
-
three months later
“i’m tired of the new kid, she waltzes in here, all miss clumsy but charming, takes over the kids hearts and everyone loves her” melissa vents to barbra
“remind me again, are you trying to offend or compliment her? she’s been doing everything right, she’s the teacher we’ve been wanting to work here, what do you hate so much about her?” melissa stands up, pacing the 2nd grade class.
“she’s a newbie, and newbies make mistakes that we can’t afford” barbra shakes her head, not believing melissa.
“that’s not the real reason” the bell rings “talk to me when you find out the reason, until then, be nice to the kid” melissa huffs as she sits back down, watching barbra walk out and her kids march in.
-
a/n: first chapter of my new series is done!! this is a short chapter just to get something out there, hope you guys like it!
taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @dopenightmaretyphoon
to be added to my taglist, send in an ask!!
157 notes · View notes
agustdiv1ne · 1 year
Note
okay but just imagine our man park seonghwa preparing you a bath, washing your hair for you and then massaging your entire sore body after a very stressing day
and maybe doing wonders with his mouth if you're up to.
in love with this concept tbh ♡ nsfw under the cut! (oral - f receiving)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
our darling seonghwa can just tell when you've had a rough day — your shoulders sag, and some of your hair sticks haphazardly upwards from your fingers running through it too often. he recognizes your tells, and he immediately guides you to the bathroom as soon as you walk through the door, making sure the water is warm enough before filling up the tub and adding in a bath bomb of your favorite scent. you're sitting on the counter next to the sink, silent but appreciative, and he turns when he feels your eyes on him.
he sends you a lovesick smile and moves to help you out of your clothes, hands brushing against your bare skin. goosebumps rise, but he ignores it as he helps you sink into the tub, the warm water melting the stress from your muscles.
he takes his time washing your hair, dull nails scratching against your scalp. the sensation makes you moan softly and sink further into the warmth surrounding your body. he's humming a tune under his breath as he works, cupping your forehead to prevent the soapy water from reaching your eyes. allowing you to you soak for awhile after he's done, he just sits there and admires your now serene expression.
when you're ready, he helps you out of the tub with gentle hands, wrapping a fluffy towel around your form. he takes another towel and wipes the excess water from your skin before he's guiding you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed.
"let me take care of you," he breathes, expression teeming with adoration.
"you don't have to," you whisper. "i'm sure you're tired."
"i want to," he responds, and so you concede. seonghwa's hands reach for one of your own, thumbs massaging your palms with light pressure. they move up your forearm, your bicep, then to your other arm and down to your other hand, pressing a tiny kiss to your cheek as he massages the tense muscles. you close your eyes and bask in the attention. he asks you to turn over, and he rubs the knots from your shoulders and neck. you sigh into the pillow below you as he travels down to your aching feet from standing most of the day. you hum as he rubs the arches, feeling the pain melt away. fingers travel to your calves, then the backs of your thighs. he squeezes.
"can i?"
"please," you whisper, and so he unwraps the towel from your body, rendering your bare before his eyes, before he asks you to flip over for him. fingertips gently brush against your closed thighs, and you shyly part part them. smiling at your little act of obedience, he shifts so he's laying between them, nosing against the sensitive skin near your core.
"i didn't even need to ask. good girl." the praise warms your stomach, causes you to giggle as he gently bites down on the flesh. he sucks a light mark into your thigh before his lips move up further, his warm breath tickling your sensitive little clit.
"hwa," you plead breathily, and he laughs, hands slipping under your thighs to hold you in place.
and then his mouth is on you.
his tongue dips down to your aching entrance, collecting the sweet nectar on his tongue before bringing it back up to your clit. you jolt at the first swipe of his tongue, the tip dipping below the hood to really get your mind reeling. your thighs try to close around his head, but he holds you open, vulnerable to his sweet, slow ministrations. he swirls the muscle a few times before his lips join the mix, sucking your now swollen clit into his mouth.
he's moaning, you're keening, and it doesn't take long for the pleasure to rise in your stomach, whines and whimpers growing louder as you warn him that you're gonna cum. fuck, you're gonna cum please don't stop.
and he doesn't, not until your limbs are jelly and the quaking of your legs die down. pants pass your lips as he moves up to capture them with his, the taste of your juices invading your mouth, but you don't mind in the slightest.
your eyes droop, but you attempt to reach for the tent in his own pants. he stops you, telling you that it's okay. "you should sleep, pretty."
"i love you," you whisper as you drift in and out of consciousness, not even realizing when he lifts up your torso to slip one of his oversized shirts over your head. he lays you back down onto your pillows and swaddles you in blankets.
he presses one final kiss to your forehead before you're officially out, and though you can't hear him anymore, he murmurs, "i love you, too, pretty."
542 notes · View notes
brights-place · 3 months
Note
Hiii! so I was wondering if it would be ok to ask for nsfw king trollex headcannons. ( you don't have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable) remember to drink water and stay safe!
-🌹imuridiot🌹
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Trollex X NSFW Headcannons
Pairing: Trollex X S/O
Warnings: Lots of Fluff, Mild cursing, MDNI!
A/N: GOD I LOVE THIS TROLL SO MUCH! HE IS SO FUCKING WVEHACUW GAHHH!!
- GOD I LOVE TROLLEX I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I GO FERAL OVER HIM
- OKAY OKAY! LETS START BEFORE I START LIKE AN FERAL DOG AND CAT
- all extremely protective over you. And always so ready to defend you. - When you first start with foreplay he was SO gentle he touches you as if you were a fragile glass next thing you know he is bending you over somewhere grunting loudly
- very touchy whether it’s a little hand hold or a full on thigh grab he needs to have his hands on you at all times your his partner though would start to turn into an flustered mess if you grabbed his waist or thighs - you know how he loves holding your hand or even shows PDA Whenever he's stressed out, he likes knowing that you're there with him, and holding your hand is the perfect way for him to do that he'd do the same even when its sexual
- he puts so much effort into learning how your body reacts to him and his touches until he’s like an fucking expert at taking you apart piece by piece.
- loves kissing you when your sitting on something, weather it be a counter or your bed, he just loves kissing you like that.
- grabs your waist to grind you down onto him/guide your movements
- Trollex and social cues weren't a match... this man would just burst through doors out of nowhere - If he's in his heat he'd go feral grab you put you over his shoulder and taking you to his room telling his fellow techno trolls he's busy - He's def not pulling your hair in your shared bedroom as he makes sure he could hear every single sound you make... - so whenever he'd feel like it he would sneak his arms around you and grab your tits, or sneak his hand up your skirt or down your waistband when he got a peek of your ass or thighs
- It's not as if he can't keep his lips off of you his love language is physical touch - but he typically always gives you at least a peck on the lips or the cheek when you or he enters the room.
- Teases you he would just slowly thrust in and out of you or tease the tip of your member as you beg for him for more and cling to him sobbing
- would chuckle at how you’d thank him for making you feel so good and being lovely
- His favorite positions are probably cowgirl,Reverse Cowgirl, Sixty nine, doggy style, The the slider, and the lean in - What are his turn offs? talking about your ex regularly, Cheating, bad breath, being just an asshole, and Poor hygiene - he loves to be sensual; praise you, kiss you and touch you all over.
- His hand are placed onto your hips as he makes you rock back and fourth you slowly bouncing on him.
- he makes you squirt every single time you guys fuck more than once and he loves it when you squirt on him
- Random ass thought but what if he's dick looks like an rainbow glowstick... Just me? Okay
- He makes sure you feel good no matter what
- Every part of him is rideable but literally when needed he grabs you by your thighs and makes you sit on his face as he giggles excitedly
- Trollex can be slow and soft but also rough and fast when she’s in the mood
- praises will leave his lips as light whimpers escaped as well sometimes degrading words a swell for fun but your the one who mainly praises and degrades him he loves it - He will hold your thighs open so you don't close them whatsoever unless he wants you too he's def an thighs and ass manhe'd kill to have you crush him with your thighs
- he even praises you when ever he's legit going to town
-though it's very muffled, he will talk about how good you taste, how obedient your being, and even how much he loved you in general.
- He'll be riding you and his hands will grip on you shoulders, begging and trying to go deeper to hit his favorite spot as he sounds like he's saying random words
- wants you overstimulated and fucked out he calls it a easy win as he chuckles
- Any choked, quiet sounds that emit from your mouth is a fucking symphony to his ears because he knows you’re too stupid to think of anything else to say while he smiles and praises you for being so good for him while he’s stuffing you with his cum
- When finishing doing the deed he's amazing in after care. Would say how amazing you did while cleaning you up
- he stayed by your side giving you all of the peace and comfort he could give you after doing the deed
reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact
Tumblr media
92 notes · View notes
twsted-kinks · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
>ageless and minors dni<
Fjsjsjn thank you for liking my work! I may write something similar again but it was when I was really early in the game and didn't know the characters well plus I escalated things very fast and didn't know where else to go from there.
Anyway, I'm used to virgins being the ones humiliated so this idea is definitely interesting to me. Had to think about who's a virgin and who would humiliate the reader. Decided to keep this one limited with characters cause I tend to get carried away
This can be read as either connected or seperate. Your choice.
Slutty MC X Azul & Sebek
Reader: is Yuu, you pronouns, gender neutral (if you want to read this afab pretend birth control is free and on it, unless you like the risk of pregnancy then don't)
Charactes: Azul (Sugar daddy & prostitution), Sebek (prostitution and hate fuck)
Content Warning: Humiliation, dubious consent and noncon in places, virginity loss, gangbangs, prostitution, everyone being problematic, Jade and Floyd wanting a turn in Azul's part, Sebek choking reader in his
Azul
It was a simple proposal. Azul at his desk with his cheeks bright red while you stand across from him with arms crossed.
"I'm sorry. What?"
"I'm your personal fuck toy and you pay me for my time." You lean forward over the desk with a smirk. "Or is a whore like me not good enough for you?
"D-do you really think I would be persuaded by-" Azul gulps. "I do not need your... services."
"Oh?" You chuckle. "You don't want a bit if stress relief? I can tell you're tense, Azul. When's the last time you got laid?"
Azul opens mouth to say something before looking away with a grimace.
"Won't tell me? Or is it cause you're a virgin?" You undo the buttons on your dress shirt and let it fall off your shoulders.
"That's none of your business." Azul refuses to look back at you. "I don't need some slut waltzing in here and distracting me. Go whore yourself out to someone else."
"No need to be so mean, Azul! You don't even want to take me for a test run?" You undo your pants/skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
"I don't- Why would I want a test run?"
You strip the last of your clothing and pull Azul's chair from under his desk. "I'm offering a free fuck. If you like it, you can pay me for more. If you don't, well you're not paying anyway."
Azul gulps as you sit down on his lap fully nude and right on his growing dick. "You fucking whore."
"Exactly. You can touch me however you want, use whatever hole you want, and cum wherever you want, even deep inside me." You take Azul's hand and guide it to your hole. "I'm all prepped and ready for you. What do you say?"
"Fine, you fucking whore." Azul stands, lifting you, and dropping you on his desk. "Prove to me you'll be worth the money."
You reach down, undo Azul's belt and zipper, and pull his hard cock from his pants. "Of course. For the next hour, you own me. All free of charge."
It doesn't take long for Azul to lose his virginity as he immediately shoves himself into you balls deep and ruts into you at a quick pace. You squeeze his cock and move your hips to meet each of his thrusts. You reach up and pull his face down to meet yours, pulling him in for an open mouth kiss. He'll never tell you how that was his first kiss as well.
Azul surprises you with his stamina. You expected him to many last a minute before he'd cum and make a contract with you. You didn't expect someone like him to be able to keep up. Even while sweat dripped down his neck and his breathing was heavy, he paid attention to you. Angled his cock in different ways until he found the right one that made your back arch. You reached down and began playing with yourself. Maybe you'd actually get to cum for once. Hell, you may even cum before him.
Before either of you can finish, the door to Azul's office opens and Jade and Floyd step inside. Azul freezes above you before trying to pull away, but you lock you legs around his hips, preventing him from pulling out.
"I- What are you-" Azul struggles to firm a sentence.
"I was wondering why your meeting with Shrimpy was taking so long." Floyd laughs. "We're gonna get a turn, right?"
"If Azul agrees to the deal, sure." You answer before Azul can.
"Oh? What type of deal?" Jade asks.
Azul grunts and begins thrusting into you again. "This slut wants me to pay them to be my fuck toy, but I don't think their holes are worth it."
"Aw, really?" You whine. "And let your friends leave with blue balls?"
Floyd takes out his cock and steps towards the desk. "Come on Azul! I wanna fuck them!"
"If they'll be your toy, won't that mean you can decide who they fuck?" Jade hums. "Think of all the customers that could attract."
"Mmm, yes." You moan under Azul. "I'll fuck anyone you want me to fuck. Any cock in any hole. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"
"That's what you want isn't it? Azul ruts into you faster as he grunts and groans above you, making your legs shake as your core gets tighter. "You just want to be a cumdump, but you don't know how to profit from it. You just want every cock on campus to fuck you, don't you?"
"Yes! Make me fuck them all!" You moan and throw your head back as you cum around his cock.
Azul thrusts faster until his hips still, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum. "Fine, it's a deal."
Sebek
"Y-YOU PERVERTED HUMAN!!!"
With your mouth currently being occupied by a cock while you get spitroasted, you flip Sebek off in response.
"DO YOU HAVE NO MODESTY!?" Sebek's screams with a red face. "THIS IS A PUBLIC RESTROOM!!"
The men fucking you ignore Sebek. The one fucking your face pulls his cock out, strokes himself, and cums across your face and in your open mouth. The man fucking you behind finishes soon after, adding even more cum to your hole. Another man takes place, shoving his cock inside you and immediately rutting into you.
"Listen, Sebek right?" You lick your lips and look up at the half fae while the man behind you keeps fucking you. "I have a business to run, so either get in line and cough up some cash or leave us alone."
"I-I WOULD N-NEVER!!" Sebek stutters. "T-THIS... THIS IS SOMETHING YOU SAVE FOR YOUR SPOUSE!!"
"So you're a virgin? Well, virgins get a discount with me on their first fuck." You respond as the man behind you pulls out and cums across your back. "I'll even let you cut the line if it means it'll shut you up. Okay, big boy?"
"NO!!! I WILL NOT PAY FOR-"
"I'll pay for him." One of the other men says. "Would be fun to see him lose his shit."
"WHAT?!" Sebek turns to face the man who is already handing you the money. You count it and everything looks right. You step towards Sebek and place your hand on the tent forming in his pants.
"W-WAIT!!" Sebek's hands hover over your shoulders, unsure if he should push you away or... pull you closer.
"Shhh, enjoy yourself." You rub fingers along Sebek's clothed cock.
"Y-you vixen." Sebek mutters.
"Vixen? Haven't heard that one before." You chuckle, unzipping Sebek's pants and pull out his cock. You turn around, rubbing your ass against Sebek's cock. "Now, are you going to make me do all the work, or are you gonna prove to me that fae fuck better, huh?"
"Y-YOU HUMAN WHORE!!" Sebek shouts and grabs your hips. He thrusts his hips forward a couple a times, missing your hole each time. You reach back and help guide him. Finally, he thrusts forward and almost enters you fully.
"That's a good bo-" Your taunt is cut off by Sebek grabbing your throat.
"SILENCE YOU WHORSIH HUMAN!!" Sebek growls and starts fucking you hard. "HOW MANY HAVE YOU PLEASURED?! HOW MANY HAVE TAKEN YOU?!"
You try to speak but only choked out moans leave you. The heat that's been brewing in your stomach gets tighter.
"YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A LOOSE HUMAN HOLE!!" Sebek lifts your body off the ground, one hand wrapped around your throat as he uses his other arm to lift up your lower torso. His hips fuck you faster and deeper, pummeling your insides without holding back. Cum drops down your body and out of your hole(s), pooling on the floor beneath you.
You try reach your toes to the ground to get some stability, but each thrust has your legs shaking. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as choked moans escape you. It doesn't take long you you to cum around Sebek's cock, back arching as your hands grip at the one choking you.
"With how loose you are, I'm surprised I felt you cum!" Sebek groans in your ear, not letting up on his rutting. "A WHORE LIKE YOU DOESN'T DESERVE MY CUM INSIDE YOU!!"
Sebek fucks you even harder but then suddenly lets go of you, dropping you on the ground. You gasp for breath as Sebek strokes his cock above you. You flip yourself over, laying on your back, and Sebek steps above you, stroking his cock. You're barely able to mumble a single word when Sebek finally cums, painting your face and torso.
86 notes · View notes
spectres-n-soap · 1 month
Text
Hand in Hand
Content Warnings - afab and fem reader, pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort.
A/N - What I'm about to do in the next chapter will rip out my heart.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
His words echo in your head as you open the window. The smell of breakfast Simon is making wafts through the flat, its pleasant. Domestic in a way that twists the knife in your chest and shoves it deeper.
You close your eyes and take in a deep breath, the rain of early this morning fills your senses. You shut the window quickly, slam it closed as your eyes fill with tears. You lean your head with closed eyes against the glass, the coolness of it helps with the heat in your forehead. A few tears slip down your cheeks and you look at your stomach. Sometimes, as silly as it made you feel, you forgot you were pregnant. Its natural, second nature these days as you caress it and you immerse yourself into the fantasy that's been keeping you going.
Its his hand, warm and calloused, being gently placed onto your stomach where his baby resides. Johnny rests his chin on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek, everything is okay. "Yer doin' amazin' bonnie." He whispers into your ear. "Ye look amazin'." One hand wrapped around your waist and the other over your stomach, you lean back into his touch.
"Breakfast is ready." Simon calls out. You open your eyes as reality closes in. There's no one to lean into, Johnny is dead and he didn't even know. The same questions that you've been asking yourself since the very start echo through your mind. Frankly, you're getting quite tired of those questions.
How would have he reacted? Would he have married you? Would he have wanted to keep it at all? No, he would have wanted to keep the baby. This wonderful creation of both him and you. You swallow down the lump trying to form in your throat and waddle your way, because these days all you can do is waddle, to the dining table. You sit in silence as Simon fixes you a plate and then sets it in front of you. Its a typical breakfast, sausage links with eggs, buttered toast and grilled tomato. You feel like a toddler as you push the tomatoes to the side but you can't help that they make you want to throw up. Eating in silence with Simon is easy, like breathing or making the mad dash for the bathroom after the baby kicks your bladder. Simon had always been quiet long before you knew him as Simon, back when he was just Lieutenant Ghost. Back when you were just a sergeant who cracks a few jokes with Soap on comms. 
Back before the kisses, the near death experiences or this. Whatever this was.
"I think you should see a therapist." Simon finally speaks.
Your mind careens, your thoughts are sent flying like a grenade just landed at your feet. "What?" The question slips from your mouth as you look up with what must be confusion or something equal to it because he winces. 
"That came out harsh."
"Do not baby me Simon." You snap, the words come from your mouth easily. Its a comfort, to snap at him or anyone really. "Why do you think I need a therapist? Better yet, why do you think you have the right to make such a comment at all?"
"I'll go to." Simon offers up automatically and that's when it clicks. Oh, he's been thinking about this you realize. "You- I; we've not been handling his passing well." You bite your tongue and swallow the bitter laugh and words that try to rise up your throat. "The baby is less then eight weeks away from coming into this world and maybe talking about it would help with stress?" Simon adds on and you narrow your eyes at him.
"Did a nurse suggest this?" You question, stabbing the eggs as the anger rose up like a tidal wave ready to wash everything away.
"Your doctor and Mrs. MacTavish." Simon whispers the last part and your shoulders sink.
"How is she?" Your eyes don't look up from the eggs you had impaled on your fork moments earlier.
"She's worried, love. Worried about you and the baby." Simon is looking at you, you can feel it. His gaze always holds this chest collapsing weight but in this moment its a comfort. It weighs you down softly, keeps you connected to the moment.
You gnaw on your bottom lip before you concede. "I'll go." You whisper and his shoulders sink. Why does it hurt? Why does the fact he was ready for a screaming match hurt? You push those thoughts away. "Do you have a referral?" You question and he nods.
"The doctor gave it to me while you filled out the discharge papers."
"Alright then." The rest of breakfast is silent.
You lay awake again that night with sleep far outside your grasp as you stare at the wall. Simon is sleeping on the couch again but you doubt the sleep part. You swallow and turn over onto your other side, readjusting the pregnancy pillow to support your stomach again. Your hand is open and hanging off the side of the bed, right where it was connected to Simon's that morning. You stare at the wall, the only thing that separated you from him and you knew you'd only have to ask and he'd sleep on the floor again. You'd only have to wander out into the living room, swallow your pride and ask.
Was it really that terrible? Putting aside your pride? You'd already done it once today, twice if you count the sleep dazed request from when the day was still in the early hours. You shut your eyes and sink into another fantasy.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his warm chest. His body warms yours and becomes a beacon to you, a lighthouse that splits through the dark stormy night to guide you to shore. 
You launch out of bed, the fantasy wiping itself away as you wrap yourself in your blanket and wander into the living room. From your position, you couldn't see much of him but you did see his arms behind his head. Little tufts of blonde hair barely visible from behind the couch. You were right, he was still awake. The moment you step further into the territory of the living room he sits up. 
Simon sees you there, standing with a blanket wrapped around yourself like a shield and he doesn't need you to speak. He gets up from his spot on the couch and follows you into your room. He settles down by the side of your bed as you climb back into it, after listening to you get comfortable once again, your hand hangs off the side of the bed. He loops his fingers through yours and listens as your breathing slows as slumber over takes you.
He finds he can’t stay awake much longer either.
tag list - @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @snoopyee
83 notes · View notes
jeanboyjean · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PART 1: First Impressions
a/n: guys doing a chaptered fic is so hard bc u have to plan everything. ive outlined this one + written some of the next parts so this is part 1/10 (I think). see masterlist for synopsis + each part as they get updated. wc: 4.5k MASTERLIST | AO3
Tumblr media
A warm breeze tickles your skin as you step onto campus, the atmosphere thick with the restless buzz of first day jitters. The sun is well and truly shining today, clear blue skies with not a cloud in sight. You have to admit, it’s a gorgeous day. 
Of course, it hadn’t started out that way. The first thing you had heard in the morning had been the unwelcome sound of your alarm, jolting you awake at the pleasant hour of six o’clock. It had taken all of your willpower to drag yourself out of bed after giving yourself a half hour leeway to snooze. It’d been two months since summer break first started and you really had gotten used to having the free time to laze around and relax, going to bed late at night and waking up whenever you pleased. Now, it’s the first day back at Uni, back to reality and it’s like being splashed by a bucket of ice cold water over your head.
The morning is a blur as you rush to get ready and leave on time after staying in bed a few minutes too long. This year you’re living with your childhood friend Mikasa again. The two of you had moved together from your hometown of Shiganshina for University two years ago, along with Eren and Armin, the other two in your tight knit friend group. You’ve managed to snag a small two bedroom townhouse close enough to Uni that you’ll be in close proximity to everything you need for the year. Even better, you’re lucky enough that Eren and Armin have managed to sign a lease for another unit right next door. It just feels right that all of you stick together, their presence a slice of home that you hold near and dear to your heart. Unlike you, Mikasa is a morning person. A note on your kitchen bench tells you she's already up at the gym and she'll be home later for dinner. You shake your head and make a face - that could never be you.  
You decide to take a detour on your walk to campus and the first thing you do when you leave your place is stop by your favourite coffee shop. There’s just no way to avoid it. You're going to need some caffeine today, something to breathe the life back into you. Honestly, you had been dreading this day since the start of your break, a persistent doomsday countdown always nagging in the back of your head. At this very moment, there’s nothing you want more than to be still in bed, dreaming away the morning with no responsibilities or stress. 
You have fifteen minutes until your first class starts by the time you make it to campus. Although the sprawling buildings are a familiar sight, a small knot of dread ties itself in your gut. You always forget how much you associate with a place until you’re back. Now that you're here again, you can't help but relive the past trauma. You pass by a bench you remember you sat on when you got your grades back for that one assignment you spent hours and lost years of your lifespan for, only to be rewarded with a sad B minus. A shiver rolls over your body at the memory - that was not a good day at all. The old faithful library where you’ve spent countless nights staring at your notes, willing the information to absorb into your brain, is ever present in your peripheral vision as you make your way across the great lawn. 
Laughter erupts from a group of students sitting on the grass a few metres away from you and tinny pop music blares from a small speaker next to them. Reunions are happening around you, arms being thrown around shoulders and chatter bubbling away as your peers catch up with each other after the weeks apart. Despite the apprehension of being back at Uni, you're also excited to finally reunite with some friends yourself. You glance down at your phone lock screen - five minutes to go. A light breeze rustles your hair as you hurry your pace towards your destination, the science building. 
You’re out of breath by the time you make it up the steps and push open the doors to the building. It’s your third year of being a biomedical science student at the University of Mitras and it never ceases to amaze you how large the campus can feel sometimes. There are always moments where you start getting used to the expansive grounds and then you’ll be caught off guard by a towering building with grand architecture and you’re reminded not to take things for granted. 
You bring your phone up to your face again to quickly check your room in your timetable. Room 201. A sigh of relief escapes you; you’ve had classes there before. Despite almost having lived in this area of campus for the past couple years with the number of hours you'd spent here, it’s still a maze of corridors and you know from experience it’s not hard at all to find yourself getting lost. You race up the stairs to the second floor and, always a creature of habit, you take your seat in the same spot as you always had - third row, furthest to the left. 
Voices chatter away in the room and your fellow students gradually pour in in a steady stream, taking their own seats. You exchange smiles and waves with the faces you recognise. Most of you have shared multiple classes with each other since by this point in your degree, you’re all pretty much on a similar track.
A warm smile, bright as sunshine, greets you across the room and you straighten in your seat, waving enthusiastically. Your friend, Historia, who you had met as lab partners last year hurries over to you. Grinning, she stops short in front of your desk, dropping her bag down on the seat next to you. 
“Oh my God! I missed you!” She squeals, arms flinging open wide to capture you in a hug. 
You get up and squeeze her tight in a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you again! How was your summer?” 
“It was great,” she sighs wistfully. “I wish it wasn’t over yet. How about you?”
She pulls her bag off her shoulder and sets it down on the desk next to yours. Sitting down, she begins pulling her laptop and iPad out of her bag to get ready for class. The two of you jabber away, catching up on the events of the past few months. Every summer since you moved to Mitras, you’ve gone back to your hometown to stay with your parents. Meanwhile, Historia had stayed in Mitras with her girlfriend Ymir and they’ve finally moved in together.
“Ymir let me decorate the whole place,” She giggles. “Even the bedding and couch cushions.”
“I bet it looks amazing,” You say sincerely. 
“You should come over and visit! We were thinking of doing a housewarming party now that everyone’s back in town.”
Excited by the idea, you eagerly nod in agreement. A party sounds like a great way to start off the new year. The lecture room looks like it’s finally filled with students and when you look towards the front, you see the short stature of your lecturer Levi Ackermann as he finishes getting set up for class. Silence falls across the room when he gently taps on the microphone, signalling for attention. 
“Alright class. This is Biology 310. It’s 9:00 am now so we’re going to get started. Anyone who’s not supposed to be in this class please leave now.” 
Levi carries on, outlining the content the course would be covering for the rest of semester. It all sounds pretty standard to you, having been in his classes before, but it's a definite step up in terms of course load. You’re already dreading the amount of study you’re going to need to do to make sure you don’t drown in stress by the time exams roll around. Straightening up, you make sure to pay extra attention when he starts explaining the grading structure, starting with a weekly pop quiz, followed by four tests spread out throughout the term.
“You will be pleased to hear there is no final exam for this course,” Levi’s low, gravelly voice travels across the room. 
Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you turn to Historia. No final exam? You mouth at her and she shrugs. 
“Instead, you will have a final project that will be comprised of findings from your labs over the next few months and a final presentation. This will be a group project in pairs of my choosing.” 
Dread fills your body at his words and you try not to sigh as you slump down in your chair. Group projects have got to be the worst thing ever, a torture form created by the gods of education just in case you weren’t already struggling enough in your academic pursuits. Even better is the fact that you won’t even be able to choose who to partner with. In every piece of collaborative work you’ve ever done, there’s always been that one asshole that refuses to do their part and you’ve always been the one to pick up the slack. 40% of your grade , you hear Levi say and you groan inwardly, already fearing for the worst.
At the podium, Levi presses a button on his laptop and the projector screen lights up with a chart filled with names, grouped together in twos. 
“This is who you will be partnered with for the rest of the semester. I don’t want to hear any whinging and moaning about this because I’ve planned everything deliberately. I’m going to call out your names, put your hand up when you hear yours so you know where they are. When I’m done you can move over to sit together.”
He starts listing off the names with haste, barely looking up to confirm the pairings have identified each other before moving on to the next. You’re tense with anticipation as you wait for him to call out your name, eager to find out who you would be working with. Finally, you hear him say your name into the microphone and you perk up.
“... you will be with Jean Kirstein.”
Hand in the air, you turn around searching for his location. Your eyes fall on a man with light brown hair in a shaggy mullet, sitting a few rows behind you in the middle. His eyes meet yours and his hand lifts to give a small wave. You point your finger at yourself then around to him, signalling that you would move back to him.
Quietly, you pack up your things into your bag and wait. When Levi finishes rattling off the names, you push back and scurry over to Jean’s desk, plopping down next to him. 
“Hey,” you begin, smiling warmly. You introduce yourself to him, holding out your hand for him to shake.  
He just blinks at you blankly before the edges of his lips lift in what honestly looks like a small grimace. “I’m Jean.”
“Nice to meet you, Jean,” you reply, smile a little strained now with his chilly reception. You drop your hand awkwardly and wipe your clammy palms on your thighs. “How exciting that we’re going to be partners, huh?”
Ice runs through your veins when Jean winces at your words, actually groaning out loud. “Yeah, great. We’re partners.”
What the hell? Although his reaction stings a little, you try to shake it off. You're a natural people pleaser and one of your fatal flaws is that you always want to give off a good impression and give people the benefit of the doubt. You clear your throat and reach for your phone. “Guess we’re going to be spending a lot of time together now. How about we swap numbers so we can get in contact with each other?” 
Jean gives a small nod and accepts the phone you’re offering to him. As he enters in his digits, you shift in your chair, a little uncomfortable with his cold demeanour.  
"So, what’s your major?” You ask, cautiously. 
“Biomed.”
“Oh, cool! Me too.” 
His eyes flicker up to meet you and he wordlessly hands back your phone. 
“You also pre-med?” You ask him.
He just nods in response. Your fingers tap a restless rhythm onto the desk surface, about ready to take flight. The low hum of voices fill the room as your fellow classmates get to know each other and prepare for the upcoming semester. The silence between you and Jean, however, is thick and unrelenting. You wonder what could possibly be his problem. Sure, you’ve seen him in classes before but you've never had the chance to interact. There’s no reason why he should be acting like such a dick towards you. It’s just your luck to be paired with the one person who seems to have something against you. Fuck group projects.
You sneak another glance at Jean sitting next to you. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs extended in front of him between his desk and the seat in front, taking up the walking space as if it belongs to him. He’s tapping away at his laptop keyboard and curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in a little closer to see his screen.
“What are you doing?” You ask, leaning your weight half off your seat as you crane your neck towards him. 
At your words, his head snaps to you and your eyes meet. Your breath catches in your throat. Somehow, you’ve ended up face to face with him and up close you feel like you’re really seeing him for the first time. His eyes are locked on yours - amber with flecks of light honey. The world seems to slow for a moment as you stare at him, all of a sudden a deer trapped in headlights. You blink and clear your throat, leaning further away from him until you feel safe enough from the magnetism of his presence. 
“Jean?”
He straightens. The faintest hint of pink tinges the tips of his ears. “W-what?”
“I asked you what you’re doing?”
“Oh.” He turns back to his laptop, shifting the screen slightly so it’s easier for you to see. “I was just making an outline for this class … so I know what assignments we have and when they’re due and stuff.” 
A quick glance reveals a tidy table with colour coded headings and columns, half filled with empty spaces yet to be filled. You can’t help but feel a little taken aback. True, you don’t know anything about him but from first glance with his worn jeans and scruffy shoes, table empty except for his laptop, no notebooks or stationery in sight, he doesn’t really seem like the organised, neat freak type to you. He must be able to read the surprise on your face because his lips tug down and he lets out a scoff. 
“What? Didn’t think I would be someone to take my studies seriously?”
Huh, the fuck? 
You recoil. In an instant your body becomes as rigid as ice while your wide eyes snap to him in shock. “No! Why would you say that?” you question him, completely flabbergasted.
He just shakes his head, the displeased expression remaining on his face. “Whatever.”
You just sit there dumbstruck, completely lost by what’s just happened. Did you miss something? Did you do something? Why does he hate you so much? Possible scenarios race through your mind of potential ways you could have offended him, but nothing sticks. There’s honestly nothing you can think of to warrant this reaction from him. 
In your head you try to hype yourself up (It’s just one project - you can do it!) but the unease remains as you slump into your chair and groan internally when you remember that yes it’s one project, but it's worth 40% of your grade. As a pre-med student, you feel the weight of every percent and you’re barely holding on as it is. A memory of your father lecturing you about the importance of your grades flashes in your mind and you wince. If your grades drop even slightly this year it's going to be all over for you. This predicament had the potential to well and truly be the straw that broke the camel’s back. 
At the front of the room, you watch as Levi leans forward into the microphone again. Your peers quieten around you when he speaks, his amplified voice booming from the speakers. 
“Alright guys. That’s all the time we have for today. First lab’s on Wednesday. Any problems, just email me.” 
At that, the tables around you burst in a flurry of movement as you all pack your things and get ready to move to your next classes. You shove your laptop into your tote bag and sling the straps over your shoulder. You’re about to get up when you pause, remembering Jean sitting next to you. Stiffly, you turn towards him and open your mouth, unsure of what to say to him. 
“Well … I’ll see you in the lab,” you manage awkwardly.
Jean shoots a quick glance at you and nods once. “Yeah, see you.” 
Alright then. You turn away with a grimace. A gut feeling tells you this semester is going to be a real shitshow. As you walk away, you try to conjure up happy thoughts in an effort to erase the dark cloud currently hanging over you. Ahead of you, Historia waves to get your attention as you make your way to the doorway and she waits patiently for you to catch up. 
“Bio 320 next?” She asks, linking arms with you and leaning her head onto your shoulder. 
“Yup. We’re lucky it’s just down the hall. Let’s go,” 
As you start walking, the phantom weight of a pair of eyes on the back of your head urges you to turn around. When you glance over your shoulder, you catch Jean staring at you. From the distance, you can't make out his expression, but he has his head resting in his hand with his arm leaning on his desk. His eyes lock on yours and you can tell there’s no smile on his face. Your legs root to the ground as you both freeze momentarily, eyes wide. He's the first to break, quickly snapping his head away to look down at his phone. You watch the way his hair falls to hang in front of his eyes and his leg bounces restlessly as he feigns interest in whatever is on his screen.
Historia tugs your arm, shaking you from where you stand frozen with your head pointed towards his direction. There’s a slight pinch when she pokes a sharp nail hard into your shoulder. You reach up to rub at the sore spot and shoot her a look.  
“Ow, what the hell?” You yelp, glaring daggers at her.
She rolls her eyes and pulls your arm again. It causes you to stumble a little in her direction. “Quit staring and let’s go.”
“I wasn't staring,” you grumble, but your feet finally unroot themselves and you follow her lead towards the next room. 
“Yes you were … and I don't blame you. You got so lucky getting paired with Jean Kirstein. He's so smart, you’re going to have such an easy time with this project.” Her eyes light up and there’s a cheeky lift to her lips when she speaks her next words. “Plus he's not bad on the eyes right?”
You make a face at her. “I don't feel very lucky right now. I think the guy has it out for me or something. What’s the point in being smart if you’re a righteous dick” 
Historia snickers. A hand comes up to cover her mouth when she sees your disgruntled look but it’s to no avail because she can’t stop giggling. “Trust you to get on his bad side already,” she says between her tittering. “I talked to him last year once in a lab and he seemed really nice.” 
You huff and pull away from her, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Great, so it’s personal then. For some reason, this Jean guy must actually genuinely dislike you. Whatever. It doesn't phase you. He can glare as much as he wants and do his best to intimidate you or whatever it is he seems to be trying but it won't matter. At the end of the day, you're here to do the work and get the grades and he can continue being his miserable self if he pleases.  
The two of you walk into your next class and take your seats. You sigh as you pull out your laptop again, settling in for another lecture. It's only the first day but you're already counting down the hours until you get to go home. 
By the time you get home after your first day, you’re exhausted. It always takes some time for you to adjust to the routine of sitting in hours of classes and labs when you first get back from break. You kick off your shoes and drop your bag down on the floor as you shut the door behind you. The aroma of cooking spices wafts around you, getting stronger and stronger until you see Mikasa standing in the kitchen. A pot filled with a thick liquid bubbles in front of her as she slowly stirs it with a wooden spoon.
“It smells delicious in here,” you tell her enthusiastically, waving your hands towards your nose as you do an exaggerated inhale. “Whatcha making?”
Mikasa looks over her shoulder and smiles. “Japanese curry and rice. Is that okay?”
“Of course! I’ll eat whatever you make, Chef.” You lean next to her and peer into the pot. “That looks good. Need any help?” 
She nudges your shoulder and slaps your hand away playfully when you reach for the spoon. She waves her hands, as if shooing away a fly hovering over a plate of food. “No, I’m fine. I’m pretty much done - just need to plate this up.” 
You put your hands up in mock surrender and back away. Reaching into the cupboards above you, you grab a couple plates and pass them to Mikasa. She accepts them gratefully and begins scooping enough food to satisfy your appetites.  
“How was your day?” You ask her as you both sit and dig in. Steam wafts from the curry, fresh off the stove and you’re careful to not let the hot food burn your mouth. “Mmm, this is really good Mikasa,” you say between mouthfuls.
She smiles. “Thanks. It was okay. Nothing exciting.” 
Like you, Mikasa had started off as a science student too, but had soon realised halfway through her first semester that it just wasn’t for her. With her natural talents in athletics and martial arts, she had chosen to change to physical education instead. A part of you always feels a little jealous when you think about how easily she had made the change and stuck to it once she had made up her mind. If only you could change your major too, or drop out altogether. The dark cloud is back as you think back to the day you've had today. Without meaning to, your shoulders slump and you sag a little as you pick at your food. A bit of curry splashes out of your bowl when you scoop a little too forcefully. 
Mikasa cocks her head to the side, looking at you with mild concern. “How about you?”
You roll your eyes and groan. “Where do I start … Got to my first class only to be told we have to do a stupid paired project and then of course my partner turns out to be a fucking weirdo who hates me for some reason.” 
“Yikes … What do you mean by "hates you”?” She asks, fingers coming up to form air quotes.
“I don’t know!” You exclaim. “I’ve literally never met the guy before but he was acting like I killed his cat or something. I’ve never had someone be so hostile towards me before.”
“Would he be anyone that I know?”
“No, I doubt it. His name’s Jean and he’s a biomed major like me. I don’t think you would have ever met him.”
Mikasa shovels another spoonful into her mouth and hums in thought as she chews. Her eyebrows furrow slightly and her chewing pauses momentarily. “Jean … kind of sounds familiar” she mutters. “But you’re probably right, I doubt I would have met him.”
You shrug and pull a face. There’s a clang of metal as your spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. “He’s an asshole that’s for sure,” you grumble. 
You finish off the last of your food and sit back, folding your arms over your chest. Across the table, Mikasa scrunches her nose at you as she eats. She’s scolded you in the past for eating too fast but it’s a bad habit picked up from having to fit in feeding yourself between cramming for exams. Her eyes study your sour face with humour as she swallows her mouthful. 
“Wanna watch something? I can ask Eren and Armin what they’re up to. Would that cheer you up?” 
Despite feeling a little like a child being given a new toy to distract from throwing a tantrum, you can’t help but brighten up a little at her proposal. A smile forms on your face and you nod enthusiastically. 
“Yes! Might as well since we have nothing to study yet anyway.” 
She claps her hands. “Okay then. Let me send a text to the group. I'm sure they're free.” 
new notification in the 3 musketeers + eren 
mama mika: where are you guys rn    eren 😎: Just got done at the gym.    Armin ☀️: How was your first day guys?   mama mika: come over? movie marathon    Armin ☀️: Oh no bad day?   You: im stuck with an asshole all semester :/// i’ll tell you more later You: only a binge session with my faves will save me    Eren 😎: K we’ll come.  Eren 😎: Do you have food though I'm starving    You: yeah mikasa made curry and it's chef's kiss   Eren 😎: oh sweeeeet that sounds good Eren 😎: When are you cooking again?   You: tomorrow :D why?   Eren 😎: Cool. Remind me to eat before I come over tomorrow    You: what the hell You: my food is great wtf you would be lucky to eat it   Eren 😎: [sent a photo] Eren 😎: Why you lyin   you: i hate you so much You: not like i offered anyway 🙄   you have changed the group name to eren hate club    Eren 😎: why   eren has changed the group name to eren fan club   you have changed the group name to eren hate club   Armin ☀️: Guys don't fight. We'll be there in 15   You: he started it  You: yayyyy :)))) can you bring snacks?   Eren 😎: We don’t have any   You: :(((( you: wasn't asking u, dickhead   Armin ☀️: We’ll grab some on the way!   You: :DDD you: ok then see you soon 😘 you: i wanna watch fast and furious
Eren sent a photo of a pot with spaghetti on fire from when you last cooked for the team. It's only happened once in your life but he won't let it go.
Why does jean hate reader so much? 🤔 Surely he’s not someone that would intentionally be a dick for no reason. Stay tuned!!!
taglist: @honeybleed @cptnleviackerman @310802 @milky-aeons
66 notes · View notes
mc-lukanette · 5 months
Text
Luka walked his bike towards the Liberty, ready to sit on his bed and meditate since he didn't have anything more to do that day. It wasn't a particularly stressful time, but school had just started up again and he was still getting used to it.
He was about to lift his bicycle to cross the gangplank when a voice called out, "Luka! Luka Couffaine?"
Turning to look over his shoulder, he spotted a girl around his age hurrying down the stairs to join him on the path next to the Seine. She hopped down the last two steps in her haste, Luka hitting his bike's kickstand with his heel so it could stand upright while he spoke to her about whatever he wanted.
He opened his mouth to confirm that he was indeed Luka and ask her what she wanted, but she'd already advanced on him. She gripped his arms, looking at him seriously as she asked, "Do you know who I am?"
He blinked, caught entirely off guard. He would naturally assume that someone who would step into his personal space and grab him like that must've known him, but he couldn't put a name to her face. He eyed her black hair, her blue eyes, and her white, black, and pink clothes, trying to put together anything at all. Maybe she was one of Juleka's friends?
His heart strangely skipped a beat as he took her in but, in the end, nothing came to him. Feeling somewhat guilty, he replied, "Sorry. I don't."
Rather than the disappointment he expected, she stepped back with a grin. Smacking her palms together, she turned her back to him and raised her fists in the air in triumph, exclaiming, "Yes! I did it!"
He grew even more confused, a fact that the mystery girl didn't seem to notice immediately. She spun to face him again, wholly animated in her gestures as she rambled excitedly.
"This is great! I can't believe it really worked!" She flailed her arms about like she had too much energy inside of her. "I went back, and now there's not even anything stopping us from dating! I'm ready!"
His lips parted, but nothing came out. He had absolutely no idea of what she was talking about, though his heart skipped another beat at the mention of them dating. He put a hand to his chest, keeping his poker face on whilst trying to puzzle out the feeling he was having.
Finally, the situation caught up with her. Her eyes darted up and down, taking him in, then squinted in thought. She eased back, gaze wandering like she was trying to gauge what she'd said and what she hadn't. Luka noted that she was still breathing a little hard from having run to him and figured that the exhaustion hadn't helped her thoughts come through coherently.
"Ah, I came here, then asked... and then..." She trailed off, mumbling more to herself than him. When she met his gaze again, it was with embarrassment. "I should probably explain, right?"
——
"You're from the future?" he repeated as they sat at the edge of the path, him sitting cross-legged while she dangled her legs off to the side.
"Yes! Or—" She hesitated, crossing her arms and correcting, "Maybe not the future, exactly? This might be another dimension. I went back in time but the time before now must've changed too."
He only nodded, blindly following this tale to whatever unpredictable conclusion she had.
"Long story short, I - we - were heroes? There were these miraculouses that you used to power up, but someone was using them for evil." She brought one leg up so she could hug it to her chest, letting her chin rest on her knee. It was strange to see her without the energy she'd had before. "He got a hold of a bunch of them, even yours, and found out everyone's identities except for mine and Chat Noir's. I couldn't stop thinking about how much danger you'd be in, and after you..."
She trailed off and blushed, covering her face. Luka couldn't make out every word she was saying, but there was something in there about "not planning this far."
"Anyway!" She put her hands down, forcing her next words out. "I had to do something, to stop him, to protect you, to protect everyone, so I made a wish!"
"A wish," he echoed, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
"...Ah, I guess you wouldn't know," she realized. "You need my miraculous and Chat's, and then you can make a wish for a price. It's—" She brought her hand to her mouth, biting her thumbnail from nerves. "It's kind of against the rules? I think I made the right choice though. The miraculouses are gone, but I'm sure that's what the kwami would've wanted. Now no one can use them for evil anymore." She paused, gaze contemplative, then glanced at him. "Oh, the kwami are..." She waved dismissively. "Never mind. I sound crazy enough already."
"But you still told me," he pointed out.
"Well..." She shrugged, embarrassed. "You had one of the time miraculouses, so if anyone remembered, I thought it might be you?"
That was a blatantly bad excuse, especially with how she'd approached him. Leaning towards her, he asked cautiously, "Is it about what you said? About us...?"
He purposefully didn't finish to give her an out, but she didn't take it. She straightened, letting her leg back down with her other, and sighed.
"Yeah. I—" She stiffened in an epiphany. "Wait, I—I should've started with this."
She started patting herself down, searching her person for something unknown. Her jacket didn't have pockets and the ones on her capris were fake, so she opted to check the purse at her side.
"I think my body came back with me, so..." She gasped in delight, pulling out something small enough to be hidden in her closed fist. "Here! Look familiar?"
Luka watched as she opened her hand, revealing a Jagged Stone guitar pick resting on her palm. To anyone else, it probably seemed inconclusive, because how could a guitar pick that anyone could have - and that he personally had multiple of anyway - prove anything?
Except he knew his guitar picks, to the point of having them on display in his room. That was how he could tell that the one in her hand wasn't just any Jagged Stone guitar pick, but his. He could see all the notable wear that he'd done to it ("tough love," as his mother called it) like they were fingerprints on glass.
He reached out, giving the girl a brief look for permission, then took the pick from her and started examining it further. She was happy to let him do so to prove her case and he caught her smiling out of the corner of her eye.
"You gave it to me the day we met," she explained, a lightness to her voice that wasn't there before. "I was in a pretty bad mood over another guy, but he's not important now."
Luka had no idea that the "unimportant" guy she was talking about was Paris's sunshine boy, at least in another timeline.
"I'm, um... sorry for throwing all of this on you." She giggled self-derisively, rubbing an arm. "I was so happy that everything worked out, even if you didn't remember me. I was always so busy being a hero that I didn't have any time for anyone, but now I don't have to worry anymore."
And she'd thought to see him first, even if she didn't say it explicitly. Her story being accurate meant that there had been any number of people to check on or go to, yet he was the one she'd gone for. He was the one she blurted out her whole story to, despite how fantastical it seemed. Despite them not having any relationship that he could remember, she was comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him. If he took everything she said into account, that had also meant that they were either near-dating or one of them had confessed, and considering that she'd already mentioned that she was too busy for people, that only left him to have done so.
At the thought, he felt something warm on his skin; lights that weren't from the sun exactly, but what he imagined it would feel like to have stage lights shining down on him. It felt right, somehow.
"Luka?" the girl called.
He'd been lost in his own head, still processing everything she'd said. He stared, noting the hand outstretched for a friendly handshake.
She smiled, though it was more awkward than before. "I already changed the timeline, so things probably won't happen the same way, but... it's just nice to meet you again. I'm Marinette." She glanced off to the side, the edges of her smile twitching as she added in a murmur to herself, "I should've started with that too."
She'd reigned in her earlier statements now that she'd calmed, having gone from, "we can date, I'm ready," to, "it's just nice to meet you again." She was preparing - expecting - for the possibility that they wouldn't hit the same notes twice, but if he were honest with himself, he was already interested in her in a way. She seemed nice, funny, and incredibly adorable, not to mention how she was entirely unpredictable in her actions.
He chuckled, deciding not to voice the thought for the time being. As she'd said, she was apparently free of anything holding her back anymore, so they could take it easy.
He reached out to her outstretched hand, holding the back of it with one and placing the guitar pick back in her palm with the other. Her eyes sparkled with hope as her gaze darted between him and the guitar pick, reading the wordless reassurance exactly how he'd intended.
Returning her smile with his own, he replied, "Nice to meet you again too."
93 notes · View notes