#I can imagine right now: Will trying to be nice and offering to get him a new hat

[lucem-stellarum]

Tfw I made a whole post about how, while I LIKE James' storyline, I can't seem to really dig into it because he's too much like my father to connect with the way that Mr Redacted intends (being, y'know, a bfrp channel and all)

But I completely ignore the most obvious parallel to a different character:

(you know it's legit because storing it brim down flattens it out)

(yes he wears it every time he goes out somewhere, including to work)

(there are Rules about appropriate hat wear and care)

(some of the Yee-Haw South stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. not THAT one, but some of them)

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo and your son, Sen, getting into the nastiest fight to date.

"Doman expansion: Infinity Castle!"

You feel yourself floating right side up, then everything shifts and you're suddenly falling upside down. You hit the tatami mats with an "oof!"

Sen's domain is a Japanese-style castle with infinite rooms he can manipulate at will. The domain is infinite and some rooms can lead to nowhere, reminiscent of Satoru's domain. When he and his best friend Naoki overlap their domains, one could find themselves isolated, battling shikigami in various parts of the castle.

Sen and Satoru land on their feet not far from you.

"Yikes," Satoru says. "Pretty crude, if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking!" Sen would say, powering up his next attack. Satoru would move to counter and by now you have a headache and a bruise, and you've had it with the bickering.

"Domain--"

"Enough!" You put your hands together. "Domain expansion: Thousand Heavenly Gates"

The scene shifts and you find yourselves standing on water with a clear sky above you. One thousand torii gates stand tall all around you. Your ex and son feel the rage inside them start to fade away.

Pointing an accusing finger, you scold them, "You two are two of the strongest sorcerers who ever lived. Using your gifts to bicker with each other is some of the most blatant disregard for your stations I've ever seen! I don't want to see another domain used for this kind of stupidity again. Am I clear?"

"Yup."

"Yes, mama."

"Now," you say slowly. "When I drop this domain, you two are going to spend some civil father-son time together. Go get lunch. I don't care where, but on the way back, pick me up an ice cream. Double scoop. Satoru?"

You ex-husband grimaces and has the decency to look chastised. "Yeah, I know what flavor. That swirly one you like."

"Good. Don't come back until you've learned to play nice."

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo picking you up from girls' night.

Sen goes back to the school dorms at night, so you figured you go out for a few drinks with your friends to catch up. Satoru heard about the event from Shoko and offered to take you home. You agreed and on the way took a detour to your favorite arcade from when you and Satoru were teens.

"Ugh! I swear these things are rigged!" you groan in frustration when the claw game drops the plushie you were aiming for.

"My turn," Satoru says. He scoots you out of the way and focuses hard on the white one-eyed cat you've been trying to get.

In the reflection of the plastic, you notice a slight glow behind Satoru's blindfold.

"No way you're using the six-eyes for this!" You whack his arm playfully, trying to stifle your laughter.

"Don't hate the player, babe, hate the game," he replies. With that, he presses the button and the claw drops. It hits the toy dead center. Closes. Lifts. The two of you hold your breaths.

And drops right into the chute.

"Yes!" you squeal while Satoru retrieves it. His face screws up in a look of contempt.

"Ew, it's even uglier up close."

You snatch it from him and hug it close to your chest. "Don't say that! He didn't mean it, Gege, don't worry."

"You named it already?"

"I named him."

"His face makes me mad for some reason."

"Your face makes me mad for many reasons."

Satoru lightly punches Gege in the face, which leads to you chasing him all the way back to the car, brandishing your new friend like a weapon.

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo walking you to your front door.

You thank him for the ride and for taking you to that arcade. He doesn't need to know this, but being there with him made you feel like you were seventeen again.

Many things about Satoru remind you of how happy he made you. Even now.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," he says. Your reminiscing means you didn't catch the first part of his apology but you nod like you've been paying attention the whole time. "We're not together any more and I haven't been good about respecting boundaries and I'm sorry."

He blabbers on some more but all you can think about is how this whole apology is exactly the kind of communication you'd been wishing for throughout your marriage.

"So if you're seeing someone now, I get it. I mean, it doesn't matter if I get it or not because it's none of my business but--"

"Oh, shut up, Toru!" Fisting a hand in his shirt, you drag him to your level and kiss him like you’d never get to again.

~

Thanks for reading!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[fastandcarlos]

Engaged, When? : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: with all your friends settling down around you, you can't help but feel like you and charles are slipping away from everyone else

After what could only be described as the day from hell, the last thing you wanted to do was go out to a celebration. But that was exactly where you found yourself. Carlos’ and Rebecca’s apartment was bustling with people, noise and lots of excitement for the newly engaged couple. 

Whilst many others wore wild smiles on their faces, your expression couldn’t have been more different. All you wanted to do was go home and rest, but Charles refused to go to the party without you, ignoring your protests and encouraging you to show your face and happiness for the pair. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for them, because you were, if anything, you were disappointed for yourself. Whilst Charles mingled and made sure to say hello to as many people as possible, you preferred to hang back and blend in, simply doing enough to try and make it seem like you were enjoying yourself. 

If there was one person that you weren’t convincing though, it was Charles. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you looking far from impressed, you might be able to deceive most people, but not Charles. Through the dances and the chatter, he made his way over to you, with many of his bosses around, he still felt the need to impress. 

Your body tensed up as Charles came and stood beside you, “I know you’re tired but at least try and look like you want to be here, we’re supposed to be celebrating our friends right now.” 

“It’s lovely, imagine falling in love and getting engaged so quickly,” you mumbled, taking a sip from your drink. Charles hummed as he walked off, not quite getting what you were saying. 

Just as Charles walked off, another figure appeared beside you. The smile on Pierre’s face was comforting for you as he nudged your side, wanting to make you smile too. 

“I know how you’re feeling,” Pierre sympathised as Kika appeared beside him. “We’ve talked about this enough times, but I promise you that he really does adore you.” 

It was easy for others to tell you, but truthfully, you were far from sure anymore. You and Charles had been together for almost a decade, and yet your relationship felt like it was stagnant these days. 

“How many more engagements do we have to celebrate?” You asked the two of them. “How many more times do I have to stand here wondering when it might be my turn?” 

“I’m sure Charles has got his reasons,” Pierre tried his best to reassure you, but even he was confused these days. “You have to trust me though, he is still madly in love with you, Charles wouldn’t still be with you if that wasn’t the case.” 

“Why can he not show me then?” You shrugged, “it’s not even about proposing anymore, it’s about doing anything to show me how he feels.” 

You knew the honeymoon phase was never going to last forever, but after ten years with Charles you hoped the next stage was going to arrive soon. If you were honest, you’d hoped it would’ve arrived by now, especially after watching so many of your friends get engaged and seemingly leapfrog the two of you. 

“I absolutely know he wants to marry you,” Kika added, offering you a warm smile. “It might not feel that way right now being here, but trust me, he does want to.” 

Your head nodded as you tried to use Kika’s words to convince yourself. “I’m glad you guys all feel that way, it would just be nice to feel that way myself. I’m supposed to be happy for Carlos and Rebecca, and instead I’m stood here wondering what about me?” 

As you felt yourself hit a wall of emotion, you excused yourself from the pair and walked off to get yourself another drink. Your shoulder brushed past Charles as you did so, going to say your name, but you were already gone. He looked to Charles and Kika, heading over to them for answers. 

“Why are you both looking at me like that?” Charles questioned, feeling like he was in for a scolding. 

“She’s really upset Charles, have you not noticed?” Pierre asked him. 

“Yeah, I know she’s a bit tired.” 

“It’s not just that.” 

“No?” Charles questioned in surprise. “You mean to say there’s more to this?” He quizzed them both. 

As Pierre nodded, Charles followed you to just outside of Carlos’ apartment and onto the balcony. You were resting on the railing as his figure appeared beside you, eyes watching you closely as you gave away nothing to let Charles know what was wrong. 

“Talk to me,” Charles whispered, his voice soft and calm, “what else is going on love?” 

Your body shifted so that you were facing Charles, “I’m supposed to be happy for these two, but if I’m honest, all I can feel right now is jealousy and frustration.” 

Charles’ brows furrowed as you spoke before the realisation hit him. A sigh escaped as he realised finally what it was that you had been hinting at, not just tonight, but for so many years as you celebrated others. 

“It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but feel like these days we’re being left behind. We’ve just stayed exactly where we are for years,” you confided in him. 

“We’ve always been so strong together, getting engaged, married, having kids, whatever it is it doesn’t define the two of us,” Charles spoke, draping his arms across your shoulders. “Maybe I’ve just become so comfortable that I never really thought about us taking that next step too.” 

You hated the fact that you allowed getting engaged to turn into some sort of competition for you, but your mind could think of nothing else. “I just feel like after ten years it should have happened, or at least to me it feels like it should have happened by now.” 

Charles took yet another step closer towards you. “I’ve thought about marrying you, more than you could ever imagine. I guess I’ve just never really felt like I’ve found the right time to.” 

“Is that right time ever going to come?” You asked, “I mean I always thought we’d be the first ones to settle, have a family, grow old together, but now we’re back of the pack.” 

“We can still do all of those things Y/N.” 

Your eyes looked desperately back at Charles, “then can you please start making me feel like they might be possible someday?” 

Hearing the frustration in your voice sent a shiver down Charles’ spine. He’d never considered how you felt about proposing, marriage and everything else that life threw at you. But now as he looked at you, he could see just how much it truly meant. 

“Am I the person you want to be with? Forever?” You quizzed, “do you really see your future with me Charles?” 

He took a tight hold of your hand, bringing your head towards him and kissing the top of it. “There’s no doubt in my mind that I see forever with you. And I promise all of those things will happen for us, but when the time is right for us.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered back across at him. “I just needed to hear that to reassure myself, with everything that’s been happening for our friends, I guess I just let the doubt begin to creep in.” 

Charles hummed, understanding exactly how you were feeling. He'd become so comfortable in your relationship he’d forgotten to think about how you were feeling. But as he felt you press a kiss against his cheek, he knew he couldn’t do that any longer. 

“Who knows, maybe it’ll be us that we’re all celebrating next time,” Charles joked. 

“I might just hold you to that LeClerc.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[saetoru]

Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

[bleedingoptimism]

“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy. 

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing. 

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt. 

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him. 

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times. 

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling. 

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again. 

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him. 

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!” 

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes” 

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better” 

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.” 

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie. 

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him. 

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.” 

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely” 

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end. 

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after. 

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?” 

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

[rebelfell]

A li’l more self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff…

reader w/ boobies, cont’d from here

“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”

Ringing. There’s a ringing in Eddie’s ears and he’s pretty damn certain his jaw is on the floor. And he is going to need about a million q-tips stat before he believes he actually heard those words come out of your mouth in that exact order.

Did he die? Is this a dream? A coma? Did he get trapped in the Matrix? If so, which color pill does he take to stay in it forever?

“Eddie? You okay?”

Your face fell the longer he took to respond, shrinking into yourself as worry washed over you.

Thinking you must have misread things, thinking he was just being nice, thinking you’ve just ruined everything by throwing yourself at the best friend you’ve ever had…

YES, YOU IDIOT! SAY FUCKING “YES” SAY SOMETHING YOU’VE BEEN QUIET FOR WAY TOO LONG SHE’S GONNA THINK YOU’RE—

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Pretty sure I hallucinated. Uhh…any chance you can repeat that?”

“Eddie…”

He can almost hear you scoff and see your eyes roll before it happens. You glance around, looking for where you tossed your bag when you got here, but Eddie reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist. His thumb rubs over the delicate skin on the inside of it, praying he’s not imagining it that he can feel your pulse quickening underneath the calloused pad.

“Sweetheart, you just offered me the single greatest honor and privilege of my life,” he says. “Forgive me for wanting some extra reassurance. Seriously…how is that even a question?”

Relief floods Eddie’s brain as your lips slowly spread into a smile prettier than every sunset he’s ever seen before combined. His heart is pounding in his chest, all his other organs shuddering with the force, as your hands carefully pull from his grasp and drop to the hem of your shirt.

The pounding stops. His breathing stops.

Everything stops as you lift it off fully this time, letting it fall to the floor beside your feet. It lands in a heap and Eddie is struck with the urge to fold a piece of clothing for maybe the first time ever in his life. Because if you ask him, that thing should be in the Smithsonian behind a bulletproof glass barrier—the shirt you removed in his presence.

If that’s not historically significant, what is?

Except Eddie can’t even think about that any more, because now your arms are raising again and your hands are reaching behind your back to unhook the clasps of your bra.

Forget the Matrix. This is heaven.

He stares at you raptly, not even trying to hide the fact that his eyes are about to jump right out of his skull. Black lace falls to the floor and Eddie is tempted to join it, more than ready to sink to his knees for you and do whatever you say for the rest of his life. Only he can’t form the words to tell you that because all he can think about is how your bare fucking boobs are out in his room.

You are topless and literally a foot away from his bed and—god fucking damn it why didn’t he change his sheets?!

“Can I, um…”

His eyes dart between you and them, his mouth still agape. His hands flex at his side, his fingers trembling with the need to grip their softness, to mold and squish them in his palms, to roll your nipples between his thumb and index until he hears the sweet, sweet sound of your moans—

“Please,” you whisper.

Okay, yep. Definitely heaven.Only in heaven would you be the one pleading for Eddie to touch you.

“Fuck, they’re so pretty,” he sighs, almost mournfully, his eyes rounding as his hands came up to cup them gently. “How do you walk around with ‘em all day? I’d never get anything done if…”

He trails off, a flush coloring his cheeks, bashful smile making his dimples deepen.

“If, what?” you prompted.

“If they were mine.”

His eyes lifted to meet your gaze, deep brown irises brimming with heat. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and his hands stretch, his fingers spreading wider and squeezing tighter.

“They’re all yours, Eddie,” you tell him with a small smile. “Do whatever you like.”

He doesn’t need any further instruction.

A breathy laugh flutters in your chest as he buries his face in between them. Eagerly, as if he was trying to suffocate himself. Shit, maybe he is. He’d happily die right now with your warm flesh on his face, the scent of you in his nose, and his breath rippling down the middle of your sternum.

He kisses and kisses and kisses them, like he’s the pope and you’re the tarmac. And then he’s shaking his head back and forth, moaning and humming and groaning while you erupt giggles—downright giddy with all his attention on you.

It almost makes you feel…proud of your boobs.

Because there were ones out there that were bigger than yours; ones that were smaller than yours; ones more evenly sized or shapely that better filled out dresses or low-cut tops.

But none of those boobs were the ones currently reducing Eddie Munson to a puddle before your very eyes. That’s just yours.

And they are perfect.

Eddie jumps when he feels you pull away, his head popping up, his bangs mussed and sticking out to reveal his vast forehead and his panicked eyes. Shit, what did he do? Did he bite you? He could have sworn he only thought about doing that, but maybe—

You step backwards, smiling as you walk him to the bed and guide him down with you to lay on the mattress. He slides up next to you, his body finding a home against every dip and curve of yours. He looks at your face, brows raising in a silent question until you give him a nod.

“Can’t believe this is really happening,” he moans, burying his face back where it belongs. “I’ve wanted this so long, you have no idea...”

“How…how long?” you gasp, breathless as he kisses all over them, his tongue swiping over your nipples. “Eddie, how long have you felt like this?”

“Fucking forever,” he groans into your skin and the vibrations make waves across your chest. “Can’t remember the last time I went to bed and didn’t think about this…about you.”

And you know you should be melting. You know you should be flattered by what he’s saying and to be over the moon that the boy you’ve been in love with your whole goddamn life actually wants you too—but all you feel right now is rage.

“OW! What the—”

Eddie yelped as you reached over and pinched the skin on his stomach as hard as you could. He pulled away, staring down at your hand and the bright red spot it just made on his pale skin.

“You idiot!” you snapped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wh…what?”

“I’ve been going out with losers for years trying to get over you.”

Eddie blinked back at you, his mouth falling open so he looked a bit like a carp with stage fright. His head started to shake back and forth, wiry curls rustling as he stammered out an answer.

“I…I thought…”

His head dropped, shoulders slumping as he thought of all the men he’d ever seen you with. Cool guys. Normal clothes. Normal interests.

No freaks.

“The guys you were picking were nothing like me. I…I figured I wasn’t your type.”

His big, round eyes flashed back up to yours and soundly vaporized all the anger that overtook you. Because it was true. You always avoided guys that reminded you of him. Always went for the dishes the polar opposite of the one you craved.

Because eating frozen yogurt only ever made you want ice cream more.

“You should have said something, Eddie,” you whisper. Half scolding, half an apology.

“You should have said something,” he countered.

But Eddie nodded, leaning in close to bump your head with his. It made you both smile, yours and his cheeks both pushing up as they touched. And then it wasn’t just your cheeks touching.

His lips met yours with a gentle brush. Almost accidental, but not quite. Delicate and light like the start of a snowfall. It made your stomach swoop and your neck stretch, chasing the feeling. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of hesitation before he dove back in.

There was none.

“Now, if you don’t mind…” he smirked as he crawled on top of you, scooting down until his face was level with your chest, “I’m getting back to the greatest moment of my life. That okay?”

thank you for reading, love you mean it 😘

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

[strwberri-milk]

hello i'd like to request something if thats ok!! imagine walking in on the l&ds men getting themselves off to the thought of u and they get all embarrassed but then u go and help them & make them see stars<33 i just love them a lot n wanna give them allll the pleasure they deserve. ty!!!! have a nice day lovely

i love this sort of trope, nsfw under the cut!!

Zayne typically is able to wait for you to come home to take care of himself. It doesn't happen very often that he's this desperate for you in your absence and he thought he could wait for you to come home. He collapses onto the sheets after taking a shower, fully thinking that the cold water would soothe him and it does! Until he smells you on the bed, remembering the warmth of your body in his arms.

He's reaching under his robe before he realises it, the cool touch of his hand on his cock nothing like the way you'd hold him. He has to make do with your memory, settling himself comfortably on the bed as he strokes his cock slowly. He doesn't want to cum too quickly but he also knows he should finish before you get home, not wanting you to catch him in such a compromising position. He knows you wouldn't say anything but the thought of it is still a little mortifying to him. He has a reputation and image to uphold after all and biting the back of his hand to muffle his moans is not a part of it.

Thankfully he's not too much of a moaner, light pants and soft groans the only thing that escape his lips as his hand works his precum down his shaft to make the glide of his fist easier. His hips buck into his hand every so often, trying his best to imagine that his fist is your tight warmth. If he closes his eyes and doesn't focus too much on how his hand feels he can imagine that it's you, jolting when a second hand joins him.

His eyes open and there you are, straddling his legs with an evil smirk on your face as you take over his pace, cooing at him for being so needy that he couldn't even text you to tell you to come home. He's about to reply when you squeeze him in that way that always makes his mind blank, telling him that you're going to have lots of fun bullying him now that you've found him like this.

Xavier woke up hard, patting the bed beside him in hopes of finding you to grind up against. Even if you didn't want to have sex you'd be nice enough to let him run his cock along your ass, sometimes even offering up your thighs when feeling especially generous.

You're gone, probably off getting started with your day or something. He sighs a little, debating between waiting for you or taking care of things himself. He wants to wait for you but he also knows that he's far too hard to consider doing anything else at the moment, closing his eyes as he starts to sleepily jerk himself off.

His sounds are soft and breathy, not really trying to hold back. If he's caught by you he can definitely play innocent and maybe you'll take pity on him and let him take you the way he needs to right now. He loses himself in his touch, hips bucking up to fuck into his fist when the sound of you clearing your throat from the door stops him. He looks at you a little sheepishly before coaxing you to come to him, biting his lip as you approach.

You start undressing as you come to him, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you crawl on top of him. He feels you press him between your legs, cock twitching as he pulls you in for a deep kiss, showing you just how badly he needs you.

Rafayel was moping in bed again after you left him to run out for groceries, the tossing in turning unfortunately rubbing his cock against the front of his pants in a way that made him hiss. Without thinking he's got a pillow between his legs, blinding reaching for the pyjamas you left behind to take deep breaths of as he rocks against the pillow.

He knows it's a poor imitation of you but right now he can't think of anything but you, the way you smell on your clothes making his mind spin. He's always been weak for you but especially right now, knuckles white as he holds onto your clothes desperately. He misses you so much and he won't admit it to you yet for fear of being teased but he really can't get off if he doesn't have something of you with him. Whether it be your voice in his ear or your clothes in his fist, just something has to be there for him to actually cum.

He's about to spill all over the sheets to the thoughts of you when he feels your hand close over his. You're about to tease him when you see his tears lightly lining his eyes, looking up at you desperately as he softly mutters your name. You can't do anything mean to him when he's looking at you like that, pushing him down onto the bed as your mouth takes him in, clasping his hand in yours as your tongue runs all over him.

Sylus hadn't been able to see you in a while thanks to his busy schedule. That means he also has been too busy to relieve himself, which isn't really an issue until he sees you've texted him. You sent him a selfie, one a little more risque than you expected with how innocent the subject matter was in your text. He knows you didn't mean to turn him on but now he's sitting in his study jerking himself off to the photo you sent him.

He can't help it. He's cursing you under his breath, blaming you for making his skin flush and this desperation coursing through his veins. The next time he sees you you're going to be punished for doing this to him but for now he has to alleviate himself with the rough pace of his hand, looking through his phone to the secret gallery he has of other photos you've sent him. The sight of your body makes him go into overdrive, moans escaping past bitten lips as he's about to cum.

You come into his office with a surprise for him, slack jawed as the flush on his cheeks and heavy breathing make it clear what you just caught him doing. Instead of acting shy about it he sits back in his chair, raising a brow at you and gesturing for you to shut the door. When you come to his desk he spreads his legs a little more for you, cock twitching against his stomach as he asks you to help him out.

His gaze makes you swallow heavily, going to your knees as you crawl between his legs, peppering his thick cock in kisses before starting to bob up and down on his cock.

[alastorss]

hii!, hope you have a nice day<3, could I request alastor with a VERY VERY ticklish reader? with like alastor giving a hug to reader and him figuring out they’re ticklish (and using it to his advantage, fluff too!♡︎)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor has tried everything he could think of, but your mood still hasn't improved.

He's resorted to the most humiliating scenario imaginable: knocking on Charlie's door and asking for her help while grinding his teeth. For you, he's swallowing his pride.

There's no discernible reason for you to be upset, nor has the Radio Demon been successful in finding a way to make your terrible crying stop.

You might as well plunge your hand into his chest and squeeze his heart until it stills. At least then he wouldn't have to feel this horrible ache just looking at your tears.

"Did you offer them their favourite food?"

"Of course I did."

Charlie thinks for a moment, hand on her chin. The Princess of Hell has a whole whiteboard of ideas going on how to make you feel better.

"How about hot chocolate? Hot chocolate always makes me feel better!"

"I don't think that's quite—"

"Oh! I know! What about singing a song? That always makes us feel better!"

Alastor's head tilts. While that was true, he's not sure the sentiment would exactly carry over.

"I... don't think so, my dear."

Finally, after filling the board with countless ideas and subsequently crossing them off, Charlie sighs and flops onto the couch next to him. "I give up. If only they could be cured with your hugs or something."

"... Hugs?"

Deathly silence fills the air as the Princess stares at him blankly.

"You... did try that, right?"

Alastor's ears twitch in lieu of an answer.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You've decided to hole up in your room again.

For whatever reason, it annoys Alastor. He hasn't been able to see your face all day, and as ridiculous as it sounds, he's become quite attached to you.

He doesn't bother knocking, instead opting to slip through the crack of your door in shadows and materializing beside your bed with a dimming smile.

You don't seem to stir at his sudden appearance, apparently used to his shenanigans.

"What do you want?" You murmur miserably from under your blankets, which are coiled up around you while you wallow.

"Come now, darling. It's a beautiful day in Hell! Why don't you join me for a stroll?"

He perches himself on the edge of your bed as you groan and pull the sheets tighter to your body.

"Go away, Al."

"Why, you've been absolutely pitiful, my dear. What's gotten you so down?" Reaching over, he peels the blankets away from your face so he can finally look at you.

There's a familiar throbbing ache of his heart when he sees your tears. When you don't answer, he sighs.

"Would a hug help?" He asks, trying not to cringe. He holds his arms open with a shaky smile. You blink at him with wide eyes.

"... Really?"

He hesitates, but then your eyes sparkle with the tiniest bit of wonder and happiness, so he surrenders. "Hurry and come here before I change my mind."

You shuffle across the bed, abandoning all your blankets and pillows in the process. After you've shed the layers, you slot into his arms.

At first he's stiff as a board, awkwardly patting your back. But then you relax in his arms, melting against him. Smile softening, he pulls you closer into his chest and squeezes.

Giggle.

Alastor's eyes fly open. Jerking back, he looks at you in bewilderment.

"Is something wrong?"

"N-No!" You exclaim, slithering away from him.

"Are you... ticklish?" He asks, amused by your flustered expression.

"I'm not!" You lie through your teeth, squirming to put some distance between your bodies.

"Really, now~?"

He suddenly lunges at you, enveloping you again in his hold and purposefully poking at you with his fingers. You burst out into a fit of giggles, writhing to get away from him.

"Al!" You shriek with laughter. Shoving him away, you finally have a moment to catch your breath while you wipe away the tears gathering in your eyes.

Alastor reaches out, gentle this time, thumbs pulling at your smile. He admires it softly. As much as he hates to admit it, just seeing your face lit up fills him with relief.

"That's more like it, darling. Show me your lovely smile."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda (send an ask to be added!)

[min-imum]

ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me

anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.

mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.

additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.

he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.

so, naturally, you fall for him.

just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.

you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.

you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.

“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”

you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”

“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.

Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.

ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.

“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”

he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.

—

good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.

mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)

you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—

he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.

“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.

“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.

“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.

“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”

“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.

“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”

he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.

“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”

you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.

—

when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.

what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.

you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.

“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”

you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.

“no,” you squeak.

“then, may i touch you?”

you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”

you shiver. “yes. please.”

“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”

you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.

“can i kiss you?”

in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.

“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.

“just mingyu.”

“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.

“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.

“do you wanna fuck them?”

his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”

the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.

the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.

he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.

slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.

it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”

with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.

his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.

“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.

mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”

he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.

“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”

he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”

you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”

he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”

soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.

with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.

mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”

“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.

he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.

then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.

“mingyu?!”

“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”

you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”

you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.

his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.

“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”

“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”

“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”

he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”

his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.

he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.

“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”

“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”

“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”

he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.

“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”

you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”

he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.

“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.

with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.

you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”

“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.

“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.

“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”

his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”

you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”

with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.

“with pleasure.”

[yeonzzzn]

🧊just come over, would ya?: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k

synopsis: snow storm causes the whole apartment complex power to go out, in which your hot neighbor offers to help keep you warm…

genre: neighbors au!, neighbors to lovers, smut

warnings: swearing, jerking off, fingering, finger riding, unprotective sex, cuddly + funny jake ♡

Your whole body shook, pulling yet another blanket over your body. 

Your sweatpants, sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and beanie were not enough to keep you warm through this power outage. 

This was one of the moments you wished you had a fireplace in your small apartment, yet here you are. 

What was supposed to be a small snowfall turned into a snowstorm and the whole apartment complex’s power went out with no word on how long it would take for the power to come back on. 

Your teeth grinded together as you pulled the blankets over your head, pulling your legs to your chest in hopes of getting warmer. 

You tried to sleep, hoping it would pass the time, but due to your freezing, sleep was not going to come. 

You decided to check your phone in hopes of seeing a message from the apartment complex's owner about when the power would be back but instead saw a text from your neighbor. 

Jake: How are you holding up? Heard you sneezed earlier. The building is way too quiet.  You: Obviously I’m freezing.  Jake: Oh, you don’t have a fireplace, right?

You rolled your eyes at your text from him. He was clearly teasing you for not having one. 

Jake was always teasing you any moment he could get. You both attend the same college and have many classes together, so once he moved next door the amount of “good neighbor” jokes he would say was more annoying than his shit-eating grin when he’d say them. 

You: Jake, you obviously know I don’t have a fireplace, don’t be a dick :) Jake: Want to come over and use mine? The fireplace obviously, not my dick. 

You bit your bottom lip in debate. It would be nice to finally be warm, but the thought of being stuck with Jake for god knows how long made you irritated. Mostly after his joke just now.

You: No thanks. I’m good.  Jake: Y/N, I can clearly hear your teeth chattering through these walls.  Jake: I am trying to be nice here.  Jake: Just come over, would ya? Jake: The door is unlocked. 

You knew the best option would be to rush next door and sit in front of the fireplace with him.

Fuck it. 

You jumped from your bed, slipped your feet into your slippers, and rushed out of your room. 

The hallway was way colder than inside your apartment. The darkness of the hall reminds you of something from a horror film, the moonlight outside being the only source of light. 

You quickly jumped in front of Jake’s door, knocking frantically. 

After a soft “come in” was heard from the other side, you opened the door and quickly stepped in shutting the door behind you. 

You quickly took in Jake’s living room, his couch being pushed up closer to the fireplace. 

Jake raised a hand from his couch, “Over here.”

You kicked your slippers off, ready to sit close to the fire, only for your smile to turn upside down seeing Jake sprawled out, lying down. 

The only thing you could see was his eyes, the rest of him being completely covered by his blanket. 

You stared back at him? raising a brow, “Move over?” 

Jake furrows his brows, “No, Hi? Hello? How are you? Nice weather we are having?” 

You rolled your eyes, “Hi Jake, the weather sucks, move over, ya?” 

Jake lifted the blanket off his body, patting his hand to his stomach. 

You blankly stared at him, confused. Until it clicked in your head. 

Jake could read you like a book, your facial expression telling exactly how you were feeling, “Y/N, just come lay down.”

You shook your head, “No, I will sit on the floor.” 

Jake rolled his eyes this time. This was further than ideal for him too. All he was trying to do was be nice. Even with the fireplace he was still freezing and can only imagine how cold you were. 

“Y/N, we would warm up faster, it’s basic science and survival tactics.” 

You tucked your lip between your teeth. You knew he was right, plus he has his couch so close to the fireplace that you wouldn’t be able to fully sit in front of it anyway. 

You rolled your eyes and dropped your arms at your side, “Fine!” 

Jake smiled at you as you laid down on top of him, your head nuzzling in his neck. He threw the blanket back over your body, his arms wrapping around you. 

You hated to admit it, but this was nice. Your body slowly warms up, but obviously not fast enough. 

“If we strip down, we'll warm up faster.” Jake teased. 

You weren’t looking at him but you could feel his smirk that was slapped across his face. 

“Shut up, Sim.” you scoffed at him and a little chuckle left his lips. 

“Hey, I am just saying.” he shrugged his shoulders and you barely looked up at him, glaring at him. 

Jake absolutely loved teasing you. He loved how easy it was. You looked way too cute to him when he got you all mad. 

The way you’d look at him and the smiles you would try to hide when you thought he was being funny. It pulled at his heart more than he’d like to admit. 

Jake closed his eyes and wrapped his arms a bit tighter around you, his main focus to help keep you warm. 

Unfortunately laying in the same position was making you uncomfortable. You slowly started to wiggle around, trying to lay more comfortably. 

The friction of you moving against him was sending Jake’s thoughts into other places, biting down on his lip and steadying his breathing to keep calm. 

But you noticed all the well the bulge growing in his sweatpants against your stomach. 

“Sim Jaeyun,” you warned, shifting your leg up a bit, accidentally rubbing your knee against his hard length. 

“Stop moving then, jeez.” Jake spat out, his heart racing against his chest. 

You could hear how fast his heart was going, how it threatened to beat out of his chest. 

You just wanted to be comfortable, “Let me get comfortable and I’ll stop moving, I promise.” 

You slowly lifted your leg a bit more, Jake’s hand flying to your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Y/N,” he softly breathed out. You looked up at him, seeing the lust that filled his eyes, “If you keep moving on top of me, I can’t promise I’ll stay on my best behavior.” 

The way his voice spoke those words sent chills down your spine. You’ve never seen Jake look so serious and so…hot. 

You’ve always been attracted to Jake, he was such a good-looking man. But the Jake in front of you with lust and want written all over his face was enough to dampen your panties. With the way your name rolled off his tongue in warning made something in you click. 

Jake slowly laid his head back down on the armrest, his grip on your thigh not leaving. 

With the way Jake looked at this moment, made you want to test his limits. The way his eyes searched for something on the ceiling to focus on while his heart pounded and his dick twitched against your tummy. 

The hand that rested on his chest, you slowly slid down, your fingers brushing his soft skin where his shirt slid up from your leg. 

Jake hissed at your touch, his eyes closing, “Y/N, this is your last warning.” 

But you kept going, reaching your thumb to slide against his tip over his sweatpants, a soft “fuck” leaving his lips. 

You moved your hand down more, all your fingers grazing his clothed hard-on. His hand leaves your thigh to grip your hand. 

“If you keep up-“

“Kiss me.” you interrupted him. And that’s all it took. 

Jake’s lips found yours, one hand was placed at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other went back to your thigh. 

Jake kissed you with such hunger, his hand squeezing your thigh tightly. 

His tongue found its way into your mouth and rubbed against your own as he moaned on your lips. 

You snaked your hand down his sweatpants and underwear, wrapping your hand around his length, your thumb rubbing the precum around his tip. 

Jake released his lips from yours, resting his forehead on yours panting with each stroke your hand made. 

Strings of “Fuck fuck fuck fuck”, rolled off his tongue as you pumped him. 

You released him, sliding both hands up his torso and pulling his shirt along with them. 

Jake helped you remove his shirt and right after removing your own. Your shirts and beanie being thrown off somewhere else in the room. 

Jake kissed you again, his hands sliding from the sides of your face down to your shoulders, his fingers looping at your bra straps pulling them down. 

With just two fingers, Jake unclasped your bra and removed it from your body. 

The skin-to-skin contact drove you insane with how warm his body felt against your own. 

Jake squeezed your ass, a soft moan leaving your mouth and oh god it was music to his ears. 

Jake wanted to feel every inch of you. To worship your body the way it deserves to be. 

“Take your pants off,” he whispered, his thumbs looping into your sweatpants. 

You sat up getting rid of your pants and panties, your hands reaching for Jake helping him slide his off. 

His cock slapped against his abdomen, the precum glistening from the light of the fireplace. 

Jake’s hand snaked between your folds, groaning, “You’re so wet for me baby.” 

His long fingers pumped in and out of you. You flip your head back and dig your fingers into his chest. 

You rolled your hips against his fingers. Jake bit his lip at the site of you riding his fingers, your juices coating them.

God you were a sight to see, your facial expressions sending Jake over the deep in. 

He loved the way your hips rolled against his fingers, he needed to see how they’d work with his dick deep inside you. 

“Baby,” the Aussie man pled, “I need you on my cock, please.” 

You nodded, lifting yourself and lining the tip with your entrance. 

Jake threw his head back onto the couch’s arm as you slid down into him, “Oh fuck baby.” 

You started rolling your hips, placing your hands on his chest for support.

His hands went to your breasts, cupping both of them. Squeezing them with every roll of your hips against his. 

“Fuck baby, you look so beautiful riding my cock. Such a good girl for me.” 

“Hmmm, Jake, you f-feel so good.” you moaned out, sitting yourself up even more to bounce on his dick. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Y/N. Oh, fuck me.” Jake groaned, his hands flying to your hips, slamming you down onto him. 

He helped you pick up speed, the knot in your stomach ready to burst. 

Jake knew you were getting close with the way your breath became unsteady and how you clenched around him. 

He felt like he was in heaven being fucked by an angel. 

Jake has dreamed of this moment since the day he met you in class and knew it was fate when he moved in next door. 

The moment he heard your soft moans coming from the other side of his bedroom wall he dreamt of being the one making you moan. 

He tried so hard to cover his ears, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to be listening to, but found his hand wrapped around his cock as he pumped himself to your moans. 

Now that he could hear your moans clear as day in his ears drove him wild. 

“Jake, I-I’m cumming.” you pant, your movements becoming sloppy. 

Jake pulled your body back down onto his, lifting his legs and wrapping his arms around your waist holding you down into place fucking into you. 

Your hands went into Jake’s hair as you chanted his name. 

“Cum for me baby girl,” he said between breaths, “Make a mess on my cock for me, ya?” 

You let go, the ecstasy washing over you. 

“That’s my good girl, so fucking good for me.” 

Jake fucked you into overstimulation, his cock twitching inside you, ready for release. 

“Jake,” you whispered into his cheek, placing small kisses. 

“I’m cumming baby, fuck, I’m cumming.” 

Jake connected his lips back to yours as he pumped his load into you, moaning against your lips. 

Jake loosened his grip on your body, slowly moving his hands up and down your bare back as the kisses went from lustful to soft and sweet, filled with passion. 

The only sound heard was your lips moving against each other and the crackling of the fireplace. 

As if on cue, all the lights in his apartment came on. The sound of the heating system starting up. 

“Guess the power is back.” You whispered against his mouth, slowly laying your head down on his chest. 

“I don’t know about you, but I was plenty warm.” Jake teased, earning him yet another glare from you. 

“And we are back to teasing, I’m going home.” 

“No no, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jake said, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “I am not ready for you to go yet.” 

You giggled, “You know we are neighbors, right?” 

“Mmhm,” Jake hummed, “Make sure you always treat your neighbor well, never know when another snowstorm will hit.” 

You couldn’t be mad at him for that joke. He did keep you warm and won your heart over. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, Jake?” 

“Let’s do this more often.

a/n: this was a bit rushed and I apologize, but I still hope you all enjoyed it!

[sturniqlo]

Grammys- C.S

summary: chris is singer!y/n plus one to the grammys, he can't help but be proud of her and her accomplishments.

cw: mild cursing, FLUFF

an: olivia rodrigo will be the fc for this but feel free to imagine who ever you'd like! also, i just love social media fics so much, this is also a social media fic!! it's a long one and it's officially my favorite thing i've ever written!!

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

Following the release of her second album. Y/n has been nominated for three awards at this years Grammys. She's been nominated for the following categories; Best Pop Album, Record of the Year, and Song of the Year. When Y/n had found out she was nominated for three Grammys she was over the moon. "Holy shit, Chris!" With Chris next to her, on their daily walk, they jumped up and down, Chris picked her up and spun her around and kissed her face. "I'm so proud of you!" Later that night, Y/n and the triplets went out for dinner to celebrate her nominations.

christophersturniolo just uploaded to their story. (left)

y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)

Two years ago, she had won two Grammys for her debut album, one for Music Video of the Year, and Best New Artist. Unfortunately, Chris and her were only friends at the time so her plus one was her mom, which she was still excited to share that special moment with her, but Chris was happily watching at home with his brothers and other friends cheering her on. Luckily, this time Y/n asked Chris to be her plus one to this years Grammys. "Of course I will!" He said giddily. Later that week, Y/n's manager had called her and told her she was invited to perform. "Are you serious? I- yea!" When she hung up and squealed and ran to Chris who was brushing his teeth. "Chris, you'll never guess what happened!"

It was the night before the Grammys and Y/n's team booked her and Chris a hotel room close to the arena where the Grammys were going to be held. "Do you want to go out for dinner, baby?" Chris rubbed Y/n's shoulders as she laid on his chest, controller in hand flipping through the channels on the tv. "Please, I'm starving." She turned off the television and threw the controller somewhere on the bed.

Y/n cuddled Chris, moving on top of him to bury her face into his neck, placing a few light kisses along his skin. "You nervous for tomorrow?" She asked, lifting her head off to look at him. "No, I don't see a reason to be nervous." He giggled. "Just don't pick your nose, or do anything that will make you feel embarrassed on live, national television." She teased him. Y/n felt him tense under her. "Baby, you can say that. Now I'm starting to overthink." He whined. "I'm kidding" She laughed into his neck. "Come on, let's go to dinner." She patted his chest as she got off of him and made her way to the bathroom.

At dinner, a couple of fans went up to both Y/n and Chris. They took a picture with each one and then one together with both of them. There was also a paparazzi outside the restaurant they were at. Luckily, he was a nice guy just trying to do his job, unlike other paps they've ran into in the past who asked invasive questions, harassed them when they wouldn't stop to pose for them, and pushed them to get a picture. They stopped and had a small conversation with him, and even offered him dinner which he kindly declined.

Y/n and Chris took a stroll around downtown, surprisingly the streets were pretty empty and they could enjoy a nice walk together before a hectic day. "I've never seen LA so empty before." Chris said, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth. "I was about to say that." She looked at him with a smile. Y/n loved intimate moments like these, just the two of them with no interruptions. "You're so pretty." Chris stopped and grabbed both of her hands and brought them to his chest.

"Chris." She whines, trying to hide her face in his chest. "Don't hide from me, let me see you." He lets go of her hands to gently grab her face. Face to face, she's beat red. As much as she loved the compliments he never failed to make her blush and same with him. "See, look at you. So beautiful. Can't wait to see you all dolled up tomorrow. Walking down the red carpet. Going up on the stage to perform, to win all three Grammys." He planted a kiss on her lips. Y/n couldn't stop smiling that she cheeks hurt. "Baby, you don't know if I'll even win or not." Chris hated when she doubted herself especially when it came to her music. "I know you will. Tell me, have I ever been wrong about any other award ceremony?" Every award show Y/n has even been invited to, she always won every category she was nominated for. She shook her head.

"Exactly, this time is no different. By this time tomorrow night, I'll be able to tell the world that my girlfriend is a five time grammy award winner."

Going back to their hotel, Y/n was skipping down the streets as Chris jogged lightly behind her giggling like high school teenagers hanging out for the first time. Chris stops jogging, and pulls his phone out to capture a picture of her. "Babe, look!" He says to her. As she turns to him, he takes picture. "Let me see!" She skips to him as he goes to the picture. "Send that to me!" She gasps.

christophersturniolo just uploaded to their story. (left)

y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)

The next morning, Y/n's alarm blared at the crack of dawn. "Turn it off." Chris mumbled his morning voice making an appearance. He rolls closer to her and tucks his face into Y/n's neck who is sleepily trying to reach for her phone to turn it off. "I'm trying." She yawns, finally grabbing her phone and shutting off the alarm. "What time is it?" Chris picks his head up and yawns, running a hand through his messy hair. "six thirty." She says, throwing her phone next to her and wrapping her arm around Chris' bare torso. "Ughh!" He groans. Y/n stifles a laugh. "I don't think I've ever been up this early since the Billboard Awards." He leans his head on hers.

"Stop being dramatic." She giggles. After few minutes pass and Chris is slowly dozing off before he feels Y/n get off the bed. "Where are you going?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the bright sun that is entering the room. "The bathroom." She slips her slippers on and stretches. "Can you bring me a robe? I want to wear it. Wait, nevermind I'll go with you." He grunts as he gets up and walks towards the door where Y/n is waiting. Exiting the bedroom, they walk through the living area, the room being lit with sunlight, considering that they're in a high rise and there's no blinds in that area. "Woah! If I wasn't awake before I am now."

They take turns using the toilet, trying to wake up fully as they waited for one another. "Do you want a robe?" Chris asks, as he ties the robe closed. Y/n nods. "Why not?" He hands the last one to her and she slips it on, feeling the soft material on the parts her sport bra and sleeping shorts don't cover. "Soft, isn't it?" He hugs himself. "It really is." She does the same. They look at each other and laugh. As routine, they brush their teeth together and Chris takes his phone and hands it to her so she can take a picture.

"Room service?" Y/n asks Chris as they sit on the dining table provided for them. "Yes, let me get the menu." Chris gets up and runs to where he saw the menus earlier. "I'll have whatever you get." He tells her. Y/n picks up the phone and dials the room service number. Chris stares at her, blurring out her voice as he just stares. When she finishes, Chris realizes something and gasps. "What?!" Y/n gets startled. "We haven't kissed at all this morning." He says. "I thought it was something serious!" She gentry swats his robe covered arm.

"This is serious! Come here." He grabs her chin and kisses her.

A knock at the door breaks their small conversation of what today will look like. "I'll get it." Chris gets up placing a kiss on her cheek before going to the door. "Hello, good morning!" Y/n hears Chris greet whoever is at the door. "I can take it from here, thank you so much. Enjoy your day." Chris comes back in the room with a tray full of food. "Breakfast is here." He carefully places the tray down. All four plates are covered with a cloche. Chris places two in front of her and uncovers them. "Ta-da!" He says, Y/n giggles. "Thank you, Chris." She leans over to grab utensils and syrup for her waffles. "Im assuming I got the same." Y/n nods at him as she digs in her food.

"What time is everyone getting here?" Chris questions. "Rudy is coming here at nine to pick us up for sound check. And then we're coming back here at around eleven. My stylist, hairstylist, makeup artist, and photographer are getting here at twelve so we can both start getting ready."

christophersturniolo just uploaded to their story. (left)

y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)

At soundcheck, Y/n and Chris spotted all of the other artists who were performing. And they were starstruck to say the least. They saw Harry Styles, which Y/n was over the moon for although she had met him a few times and needed a minute after those interactions, Billie Eilish also sound checked and both of them took a picture sneakily and sent it to the group chat with Matt and Nick. At home Nick was going crazy. They also saw H.E.R, Jack Harlow, and Lil Nas X.

"Alright, Y/n, you're up!" Her manager, Rudy, stood up to walk her backstage so she can get mic'd up. "I'll be back." Y/n kissed Chris as she walked away. He waited patiently, excited to know what songs she was going to since. She hadn't told him yet, but all he knew is she was going to sing a mashup of two songs. He stared at the stage, seeing her band members tuning up their instruments and playing a light beat. "Guitar needs to be turned up a bit." Someone working for the production yelled. As Sage, her guitarist kept playing a light strum he heard it get louder. "That's good!" They did that with the rest of the band and their instruments.

Finally, Y/n came out on the stage and waved at Chris. "Ready?" The same guy spoke to Y/n through around mic. "Ready!" She held up a thumbs up. "Alright test the mic." Y/n cleared her throat. "Testing one two three, three, two, one." She spoke, her voice could now be heard throughout the arena. "Turn it up just a tad more." The same man spoke. "Keep going." He said to Y/n. Repeating the same words her voice got louder. "Perfect! Now, let's hear her and the band together. Band, whenever you're ready."

The band started to play a light melody Chris soon realized what the song was, Invisible String, which was one of his favorite songs by her. It was about their relationship, and how they had certain moments in their lives that connected them to one another. Y/n, who grew up in New York had family in Massachusetts where Chris was specifically from and she would frequently visit them. Her career had just started at the age of sixteen so she would get stopped by a few people in his small town. However, years later they realized just how often they were face to face at the frozen yogurt shop Chris worked at. Eventually, they met again in LA at a movie premiere.

Before she got halfway through the song, the beat changed and turned into a new song. Pov, which was also about him and was her most popular song from her new album which was also nominated for both Record of the Year and Song of the Year. After soundcheck, they stopped by a spot to pick up a quick lunch to eat back at their hotel. They had a good half hour to eat until everyone would arrive. Y/n, Chris, and Rudy all ate their lunch and had a fun conversation about certain conspiracy theories.

Forty minutes later, their hotel room was full of people running back and forth from Y/n. Chris was first to get ready since he didn't need much. He just got his hair styled and his clothes fitted. He was memorized by Y/n, she would occasionally glance at him and wink making him giddy.

christophersturniolo just uploaded to their story.(both)

"I'm nervous!" Y/n places her gloved hand on Chris' bouncing knee. "Why? It's just like any other award show." Chris looks at her. "It's the Grammys! And there's way more people watching plus we're sitting near the front and we'll be in the shots throughout the whole night. I'm going to embarrass myself." She regrets telling him what she did last night. "Baby, I was only kidding about what I said last night. You're not going to embarrass yourself, I promise. Okay?" She places a kiss on his cheek. "Okay, okay." The car comes to a halt and the driver up front tells them they have arrived.

"Ready to head out?" Chris nods. They get out and they are met with the red carpet, there's many artist walking on and stopping for pictures. "Hello, you must be Y/n and Christopher!" A lady in a suit speaks. "Hi, that's us." Y/n giggles, grabbing Chris' hand. "It's nice to meet you, let's get you two checked in! Follow me." They get checked in and get informed what time Y/n will be pulled out to get charged into her performance outfit. "Alright, you guys are ready for the carpet. I'm pretty sure your manager went over these things but you're free to ignore any questions you don't feel comfortable answering and also you can skip interviews but it's all up to you."

During the red carpet, they took pictures alone and together. Y/n decided that she did want to do interviews. "Here, let's do some interviews." She leaded Chris towards the interview section. "Y/n! Over here!" They both looked who called her and they're met with Liza Koshy. "Liza!" Y/n squealed. "Look at you, you're gorgeous!" Liza hugged her. "And you must be Chris, it's nice to meet you, I love watching your videos with your brothers." Chris thanked her.

"Can I interview you, Chris?" Chris froze. "Oh- uh, sure." Y/n smiles, watching Chris as he does his very first interview. "Excuse me, Y/n! Can we interview you for E!" A man dressed in a suit asks. "Of course!" During the interview, Chris walks behind and her and gets out of the shot. "He looks a bit nervous." The interviewer says. Y/n giggles, "He just had his first interview."

"You did great, babe!" Y/n tells Chris as they walk inside the arena to find their table. "You think so?" He asks. "I know so!" Soon, they find their table, remembering they saw their name cards on a table yesterday as they were setting them up. "Wait, look who's sitting there!" Y/! stops. "Who?" He's confused. "It's Harry!" Chris looks and it's enough there he is. "Holy shit! I'm going to be sitting next to him." Y/n gives him a stare. "Lucky, motherfucker."

"Hey, you be sitting next to the Christopher Sturniolo." He laughs. As they get to their table, they greet the people who have been hired to be sit ins at tables. "Hello!" A british voice says next to Chris. "Oh! Hello, I'm Chris!" He greets Harry. "You're Y/n's boyfriend, correct?" Chris nods. "I thought so, I saw you two here yesterday during soundcheck. She was amazing."

"Next up, please welcome grammy award winner and nominee, Y/n." Chris quickly stands up and starts recording on his phone. "Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park, I used to think I'd meet somebody there." Y/n's voice can be heard throughout the area. Chris can hear the crowd above in the seats singing along. "And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some, invisible string, tying you to me?" Y/n looks over at Chris and points at him and then points at her.

She keeps singing the song for a couple more seconds before switching songs. "I wanna love me, the way that you love me." Chris doesn't notice but, a cameraman pans the camera to him and everyone watching at home got a scene of Chris smiling at her.

"You did great!" Chris tells Y/n as she returns back to her seat in her dress she had in before. "Thank you, I was so nervous!" Chris hugs Y/n. "I recorded the whole thing." He kisses her temple.

Minutes go by, performances go by and awards go by until it's time for Y/n's first category she is nominated in. "You got this, babe." He grabs her gloved hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. "And the Grammy for Best Pop Album goes to..." Dua Lipa says into the mic before opening the envelope. She sees who the winner is and nods her head smiling. "Y/n for her album Heart Beats" Y/n freezes in her seat and Chris jumps in his seat grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Babe, you won! Holy shit!" Seconds later, Y/n turns to Chris and they both get up. "Go up there, 'M so proud of you." He hugs her tightly rocking her side to side. "Oh my god, Chris." She grabs his face and kisses him quickly before walking up to get her award.

She hears one of her songs playing throughout the arena and covers her mouth. Soon she reaches the stairs carefully going up them. Dua Lipa meets her half way and gives her, her Grammy. "Congrats!" Dua pulls her into a hug. She stands to the side, and Y/n goes up to the mic, "Oh my- I- I want to start off by saying thank you to the recording academy for this award. I would also like to thank every single person who made this album possible, from the producers to my band and the person who inspired this whole album." She looks over at Chris who is recording but his head is turned away from his phone, looking directly at her and they both blush. "And I want to take a moment to thanks my fans, my supporters, my listeners this," She holds up the Grammy. "wouldn't be possible without you guys or your support. Thank you so so much! Lastly, thank you to my family, my friends, and my boyfriend for always believing in me and showing me endless love and support. I love you guys. Thank you!" She holds up her Grammy, before walking away backstage.

Her manager, Rudy, is waiting for her backstage. "Congrats, kid! Only two more to go!" He gives her a side hug and grabs the Grammy for her to put it in a safe spot before she goes back to sit down. "You did amazing!" Chris wraps his left arm around her and rubs her shoulder. "I was so nervous, sorry if I kept weird eye contact with you." She leans her head on his shoulder. "Only two more to go!" Suddenly and ring covered fist appears in front of Y/n. She realizes the familiar cross tattoo and lifts her head off Chris' shoulder. "Congrats, Y/n" She bumps Harry Styles' fist. "Thank you so much, Harry!" All three of them keep a conversation going until it's time for that last four awards. Y/n was surprised to hear that Chris and Harry had several conversations while she was up out of her seat. She even found out they took a picture together.

"And now, the winner for this year Song of the Year is..." Jared Leto opens the envelope. Chris, once again hold her hand. "Pov, by Y/n" Y/n throws her face into Chris' neck. The crowd erupts in claps and cheers. "Holy shit." She laughs. "You did it again! Song of the fucking Year!" Chris says, kissing her lips and getting up to hug her. She wipes her eye, and walks past Harry who pulls her into a hug. Walking up to the stage, she receives the Grammy from Jared and goes up to the mic. "Wow, hello again." She giggles. "Once again thank you to everyone in the recording academy for choosing me out of all of the other great artists. I'm incredibly grateful for even being here. I want to thank my producer, Fred, who helped me add some lyrics to this song. Thank you, Fred. ."

"I would like to dedicate this award to the person who inspired this whole song, and anything and everything I write, is my boyfriend Chris, without him I really wouldn't have been able to write this song. He is my muse, my best friend, my everything, he's really made me a better version of myself. I think I'd be lost without him. He also is truly one of my biggest supporters. Chris thank you for always being proud of me, for showing me what true love really is. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She smiles bowing a kiss in Chris' direction before walking off the stage.

By this time, Chris can't stop smiling, his cheeks are completely red from how much he's blushed and his eyes are glossed over from her heartwarming words. "I love you so so much." Is the first thing he said to her as she sat back down. "I love you more."

"Now, the grammy for Record of the Year goes to, this is a big one." Trevor Noah, the hosts says before opening the envelope. "Aha, Y/n! Pov!" Y/n gasps and turns to Chris. "My five time grammy winning girlfriend! You're amazing!" Chris engulfs her in a hug. "Chris, oh my god! This is actually insane." Y/n cant believe that she won all three grammys she was nominated for.

"This- this is absolutely insane. Wow," She blows air out. "I did some research when I got nominated for this grammy and found out this is for the best sounding song, which now blows my mind that I won. Thank you, recording academy. I also want to thank my producer once again, Fred, unfortunately he couldn't be here today. Also, thank you to the engineers and mixers, Jack, Travis, and Pat for their incredible support on the song. My band, Sage, Derick, Eve, Angel for playing the instruments on this song beautifully. And my mastering engineer Delaney. My team, everyone at Columbia Records. Just, thank you, to everyone who has ever and always supported me! Thank you so much! Goodnight!" She holds her Grammy up and walks away.

Back at the hotel, Y/n and Chris were exhausted to say the least. They decided to skip on the after parties and just stay huddled up in their room before they returned to their respective home the next morning. "I can't believe I won all three Grammys." She says as she wipes off her makeup sitting on the bed. "I told you, I'm never wrong when it comes to your awards." Chris grabs one of the three Grammys off the bed and reads the engraved words.

National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences

Y/n Y/l/n- Artist/Producer

Best Pop Album

"Now you can put these next to the other two you have on your bookshelf." He says grabbing all three carefully and placing them on the dresser that was provided. "Do you want to keep one?" Y/n says out of the blue. "What?" He says shocked. "Yeah, do you want the Song of the Year one? I like to call it your song. So it's your Song of the Year." She explains tossing the dirty makeup wipes in the small trash can near the bed. "But it's your Grammy." Chris says, walking over to her. "And it's your song." She adds on. "Are you sure?" Chris asks. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't." She smiles. "Okay, I'll take it and put it next to my Y/n shrine." They both laugh.

"Have I told you how much I'm proud of you?" Chris teases. "You've told me once or twice." She nods, smiling. "Well, that's not enough. I really am so proud of you. Like so much I can't put into words."

"Thank you, Chris. I love you."

extras!

[rinhaler]

hii <3 more uncle nanami please? extra smutty hehe <33

still can't get over how much everyone likes uncle nanamin tbh agjdkshlgadsg, enjoy x

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, sex toys, squirting, age gap, manipulation, forced orgasm, ddlg esque.

words: 1.3k

“What’s in the bag, uncle Nanamin?” you ask, blinking up at him so sweetly as he sits on the edge of your bed. He hands it to you, it’s a glittery pink gift page, and your eyes widen with excitement. “For me?” you ask, taking it from him.

“For you, sweetheart.” he nods, watching as you take a long, gift wrapped box out of the bag. You look at him for permission to open it, to which he nods, again. It’s wrapped so meticulously, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Your uncle is so precise about every little detail. So you try and offer the same in return. You don’t tear into the wrapping paper, you do all you can to open it with minimal ripping. He sees how your eyes widen with fear when the object comes into view, and he strokes his thumb over your thigh. “Don’t be scared.” he tells you.

“I-It’s big…” you tell him, looking at the size of the box and the white Hitachi wand printed on the front. “Is this… a sex toy?” you ask him, innocently. He smiles at that, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.

He nods, again.

You open the box to reveal the toy, and it’s bigger than you could have imagined. You pull out the wire and plug it into the extension plug down the side of your bed. He watches you, like you’re a child opening gifts on Christmas day. And he chuckles when you turn on the wand and feel how powerful the vibrations are.

You meet his stare again, gulping heartily when you feel out of your depth.

“I— uncle Nanamin…” you pout.

“Awe, you don’t get it?” he asks, and you shake your head. He stands up and locks your bedroom door. He knows you’re home alone but he isn’t willing to take the risk. He’s thankful for his upstanding gentleman exterior, and he’s even more thankful that the rest of the family seems to fall for it. Even you, to an extent. It’s the perfect cover for him to spend this time alone with you. Corrupting you with each visit and moulding you into his perfect little girl.

“Do I use it on my… my…” you feel your skin sear with warmth as you flush with embarrassment, unable to bring yourself to complete your sentence.

“Your little pussy? Yes, sweetheart.” he finishes it for you. His fingers hook under your t-shirt, pulling it over your body to reveal a pretty, blue push up bra beneath. He reaches around behind you and unhooks it, your breasts spilling free as they’re bared to him. He hisses, quietly, enamoured by the sight.

“It’s scary…” you tell him.”

“No, no it’s not scary,” he continues. He pulls you further down the bed until you’re flat on your back. He pulls at your shorts and commands you to lift your ass so he can remove them fully. You’d decided to forgo any panties. You know they don’t stay on your body for long when your uncle is in town. “Gonna make you feel nice… I’ll show you.”

He takes the wand from your hand and puts it down for a moment. You’re already dripping wet for him, he supposes it’s some sort of pavlovian response to his voice at this point. He never fails to find you dripping whenever he sneaks into your room.

Your thighs are pushed into your chest until your knees are by your ears. He traces a finger from your slick clit down to your clenching little hole, his fingers ghosting the entrance until he pulls away completely.

He smirks when you jolt at the sound of the toy coming to life. Your whole body shakes as he teases your inner thighs with it.

“Remember I told you I want to see you make a mess for me one day? This will help.” he reminds you.

“Will it hurt, uncle Nanamin?” you ask him, your body trembles as the vibrations surge through you.

“No, it’ll feel nice. Really nice. It’s just tickling you now, right?” he asks, and you nod, agreeing. “Well. How about now…” he questions, lowering the large vibrating head to your cunt. And the moan you let out is raucous when he finds the perfect angle on your clit.

He covers your mouth, demanding that you be quiet. You’re home alone, yes, but that isn’t to say your family won’t come home sooner rather than later. His eyes are strict, but compassionate all at once. You’re humming, loudly, and dampening his palm as you try to wriggle away from the toy.

“Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me.” he tells you, moving his hand slightly to give you the chance to respond. “It’s good. Isn’t it?”

“Too much!” you yell, “too much f’me!” you cry you, earning his palm sealing your lips again.

“Be quiet.” he warns you, strictly again. “You don’t want to get in trouble, do you? You’ll like it when you cum, so be a good girl and take it.” he commands, turning the vibration setting up a notch.

Your eyes fill with tears and your body convulses wildly. This is nothing, he thinks. And yet, you’re flailing around like this? Your screams are muffled by his large hand, but he longs to drink up every decibel of their true volume. His pants begin to tent and strain and he relishes in the sight of the cutest forbidden fruit he’s ever head the pleasure of handling.

He turns the notch up, one last time.

Your eyes cross and you swear your heart stops beating. You’re cursing, though he’ll never know, as he presses the wand hard onto your firm clit.

“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” he encourages you, adding the slightest pressure yet again to your trembling clit. “Make a mess of the toy. Make a mess of me. Wanna see, so show me, princess.”

And you can’t resist a direct order from your favourite uncle. You begin spasming, your cunt twitching as you cum. And it’s the hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. And you feel happy, you think, when you realise how elated your uncle is upon seeing your pussy gush out a fountain of liquid for him.

Your sheets are ruined, completely soaked and you can’t think of anything worse than doing laundry after how spent your little cunt is. But he’ll do the laundry. He’d never expect you to do something so menial because of his demands.

He’s thrilled to see you’re capable of such a feat. His trousers are equally as ruined as the sheets below and he hopes he’ll have time to change before the family returns from their shopping trip.

“Good girl, pretty fucking pussy…” he speaks, though you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or directly to your cunt. He pulls upward on your skin until the hood of your clit raises, putting more pressure on your overworked pearl. You yelp, helplessly, trying again to escape the feeling. “Sorry, princess, got carried away.” he switches off the toy.

He holds you in his arms for what feels like a lifetime as you try and process what just happened. You’re so wet. And you feel cold. But the warmth of his body caressing yours is enough to feel better.

“D-Do I… can I keep it?” you wonder.

“Yes.” he nods, “If you liked it, it’s yours.”

“Will you use it again? I-It was nice… so nice…”

“Of course.” he smiles, kissing the crown of your head. “And while I’m gone you can use it on yourself. You can make yourself cum whenever you like when I’m not here.”

What you like about your uncle Nanami is how considerate he is when it comes to you. But what he likes most about you is how easy to manipulate you are. You’ll become addicted to that wand and associate it with him. He’s never been worried about you straying and wanting to fuck other guys when he isn’t around. But he wants to be careful. He wants to make sure you remember who you belong to. You need to remember the only man who should make you cum like that.

What’s wrong with a man giving a gift to his favourite niece, anyway?

© 2023 rinhaler

[bajicantspell]

Kodzuken in my DMs ❕

Summary: Kenma trying (and failing) to make a move  → Warnings: cursing (Fluff) 🎧 This is part one, although both can be read as a one shot Part two right here

Despite his dislike for being recognized in public and the inevitable social interactions that fame entails, he couldn't deny that it came with its advantages. For starters, living in a big house in his early twenties wasn’t something he could complain about. Sure, it might have been just a rental and not in Roppongi Hills, but that wasn't due to any financial constraints; he simply chose not to. Kenma couldn't complain, he loved helping his loved ones. Whether it was sponsoring his friend's volleyball career or paying off his parents' debt, it felt nice to be useful.

Honestly he never expected himself to get this far this early in his life. It really felt like one day he was streaming in his old room for the ten people that happened to join and the next day he’s a ceo of a company. 

However, one thing that Kenma anticipated to be much easier, but found it wasn't, was dealing with women. Its not like the requests weren’t piling up; it seemed like every hour there was a new girl in his requests offering him everything lewd imaginable.

 Sure, meaningless sex could be nice once in a while, but lately he’s been feeling very lonely. Kuroo was always working, his parents lived far away, Hinata was in fucking Brazil. Aside from calls with them and the occasional visits, tedious work meetings, and interactions in his stream chat, he had no contact with anyone. Kenma also considered that it might be FOMO, but the fact that he had never had a girlfriend didn't help. In high school, he avoided women at all costs. In college, he went on a few dates, but nothing serious came of them—just one okay-ish hookup. Then he went viral, and dating became harder, because it seemed every conversation ended up being about him and his internet presence. 

Kenma sighed while scrolling through another dating app. Everytime he matched with someone and the first message they’d sent was “OMFG ARE YOU KODZUKEN”  he wanted to smash the phone screen just a little more. Giving up, he sank deeper into his gaming chair, taking a few deep breaths. He needed to be relaxed for the stream he was about to start.

If you could tell your awkward-ugly-duckling middle school self that you would one day have nearly ten thousand Instagram followers just for being pretty, she would have laughed in your face. Though you were extremely grateful, it wasn't as if your life was substantially different from anyone else's. You don’t get payed for posting, you’re still a regular university student, and aside from the occasional scammy sponsorship offer that you always turned down (and the creepy men asking you to start an OnlyFans), there wasn’t anything outstandingly different about your life.One thing you did brag about to your friends, however, was that the famous streamer Kodzuken had been following you for a couple of months now.  Part of you was convinced it was accidental though, since he never watches any stories or interacts with any posts. Bummer, you thought he’s really cute. 

“I’m gonna buy a fucking gun and shoot myself” Kenma complained to Kuroo during their weekly call. 

“You say while wiping your tears with money” 

“Oh fuck off, I’m serious! I tried everything. I swear I’ll resort to just fucking my hand for the rest of my life” 

Kuroo snickered, then he started thinking of solutions for his lonely friend. “Okay, instead of being a drama queen in her fucking castle lets try to be reasonable. What have you tried so far?”

Kenma sighed, “Mostly dating apps to be honest. Ain’t working. Also checked my requests and they all sound like the plots to a bad porno.” 

“Seriously? Like what?” Kenma could hear Kuroo’s smug smile through the phone.

“Dude there was one where she offered to lick my toes. Not gonna lie it was tempting.” Kenma joked, earning a loud laugh from Kuroo. 

“Damn, living the dream. Anyway, have you tried making a move though? Cause what I’m getting from this is you expecting the woman of your dreams to fall from the sky.” 

“How could i even do that? Can’t go outside without a crowd following me around. Can’t imagine a girl who feels comfortable getting hit on by a dude with an army behind him.” Kenma sighed. 

“I didnt mean that dumbass, I know that. I mean like shooting your shot through social media or something. There must be at least one babe that cought your eye.” Kuroo reasoned. 

Kenma paused and thought for a moment, his cheeks flushing the slightest shade of pink.

“Well there is one…” 

“Oh yea? Who?” Kuroo smirked. 

“She’s not like, famous or anything, which I like. It’s @(youruser). Found her a couple of months ago. Physically she’s exactly my type, like everything is exactly what i like in a girl; face, body, hair, style, the whole shtick. Followed her a couple of months ago, didnt have the courage to say anything though.” Kenma nervously explained. 

“I say send her something, what’s the worst that can happen? Getting rejected? So what? Then you move on.” 

“I don’t know…I think she’s really pretty, shooting my shot and then messing up means it’d be weird to still follow her. Don’t wanna make her uncomfy. She doesn’t post anything crazy, just selfies and outfit inspo, but she’s so fucking cute in every pic and video, drives me crazy.” Kenma sheepishly smiled. 

“Even if she does turn you down if you’re nice about it I doubt she’ll be uncomfortable. I say do it.” 

Kenma sighed, knowing Kuroo was right. He opened Instagram and searched for your profile, keeping the call with Kuroo active in case you replied quickly. 

*ding* 

 You were in the middle of doing some coursework when your phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, you expected it to be a new follower. Your eyes went wide when you realized the notification said ‘@kodzuken wants to send you a message’.

No fucking way, you thought. 

You anxiously unlocked your phone, your focus completely shifting from your studies. 

What you didnt know is that  an equally anxious Kenma was patiently waiting for at least a ‘seen’ with his best bud on the line. 

You opened the message. 

Kodzuken: Hey :) 

Your finger hovered over the keyboard of your phone for just a second before replying.

You: Hiiiii

You cringed at your reply, it seemed to childish and dry at the same time. 

Kenma didnt think so, he was too busy panicking over the fact that you replied. Maybe he never got over his social anxiety after all. 

“Dude she replied.” He said, not fully believing himself. 

“Damn, that was fast,’ Kuroo smirked, ‘I’ll leave you lovebirds alone, gotta catch up on some work stuff. Talk to you later!” 

“Wait Kuro don’t-” before Kenma could finish his sentence the call was over. 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance- “Asshole”, he mumbled.  

He stared at the screen, unable to muster the courage to type anything. It was then that he realized this might be the first time he truly liked a girl, due to the anxious feeling that had left him since high school. With trembling fingers unable to type anything, he sighed and set his phone down, promising himself he would reply in an hour. However, that hour stretched into several, and then two days passed. He felt insanely pathetic. 

Kenma was on call with Kuroo again, Kuroo couldn’t stop complaining about the shitty meeting he had the day before.

“He was such an asshole, fucking bastard rolled his eyes everytime my colleagues and I talked. Like shut the fuck up. If you hate your job this fucking much at least don’t bring misery into ours.” 

Kenma could only hum in response, preoccupied with setting up for his stream while his mind was flooded with self-critical thoughts.

Kuroo noticed the uncharacteristic response from his best friend- If there was one thing Kenma loved, it was shit talk, and Kuroo knew that all too well from years and years of friendship with him, and the countless brutalities that Kenma would throw at him and others he was comfortable with. He would point out things in such a monotone way, you couldn’t even be mad. Kenma was a hater to his core, so not hearing even a snicker from the other side of the line was concerning. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” He asked.

“Yea its whatever.” 

Kuroo suspected what this might be about. 

“So uh.. how did things with the girl go?” 

“They didn’t fucking go.” Kenma let out a huff of laughter through his nose, tinged with self-pity.

“Hm? How come?” 

“I panicked and left her on seen. And I highly doubt I can recover that now. Like what am I gonna say? Hi sorry I left you on seen even though I texted you first, I’m just too fucking high and mighty to reply.” 

“Well definitely don’t say that.” Kuroo joked. 

“I seriously fumbled. Fuck,” Kenma muttered just loud enough for Kuroo to hear, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, man. These things happen,” Kuroo said empathetically, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Everyone fucks up sometimes. You just need to give yourself a break.”, though he didnt get a response from the overthinker. 

“You’re gonna start a stream soon yea?” Kuroo changed the subject, he knew that the best way to make Kenma feel better was to distract him or piss him off a little. The second part was coming later. 

“Yea, almost done setting up. Gonna start in five.” 

“I might stay and watch a little today, I’m off work for the weekend.”

“Kay, I’m gonna hang up now. ‘Bout to start.” 

You checked the chat a couple of times during those two days, though the bitter ‘seen’ never changed. You couldn’t lie, you were a little disappointed. You didnt know much about video games, but you enjoyed his streams once in a while. He was a bit of a celebrity crush for you. 

It was the weekend, and with not much to do, you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram stories to kill time. You stumbled upon Kodzuken’s story, it was a picture of his monitor, with the text “streaming” and a link to his twitch. Although you were disappointed with the outcome of your “conversation”, you thought it couldn’t hurt watching for a bit. 

You clicked the link, and as you entered the stream, the first thing you noticed was his not-so-happy expression. His chat was filled with messages asking if he was okay.

You watched for a little bit, nothing particularly special happening. 

As you were about to click off, Kenma snapped at his chat. "Guys, I'm fine! Please stop asking." The irritation in his voice was evident. Despite his words, the tone of his voice betrayed him, revealing a hint of underlying frustration or perhaps even distress.

Another autogenerated voiced question popped on the screen, something that happens with every donation. “Okay man! Whatever it is, don’t worry, we won’t nag you.” The robotic tone of the voice did little to mask the genuine concern behind the words.

 Kenma’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he forced a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” he muttered, the frustration in his voice easing slightly. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I appreciate it, really. Let’s just focus on the game, okay?”

You decided to stay for just a little longer, puzzled at the unfamiliar demeanor of the famous streamer. 

A few minutes go by, and another donation followed by the familiar robotic voice  “@KUROROROTETSU : don’t mind him he fumbled the insta baddie” 

Your cheeks flushed for just a second though you were quickly brought back to reality by the man on the screen in front of you.

“Fucking kill yourself. Like I’m not even kidding I need you dead on my doorstep.” Kenma cursed to distract you the audience from his embarrassment, his eyebrows furrowed and a huge shit eating grin plastered on his face.

The chat started blowing up with laughs and ‘Kodzu’s back guys’

Kenma added, “before anyone cancels me that was my best friend of twenty years, don’t take the clip out of context.” He laughed.

Your favorite comment was someone saying “guys kodzu gets not bitches he’s just like me fr”, it made you let out a small giggle.

You debated with yourself, engaging in a mental monologue. ‘If I send him a message and it turns out to be about me, that’s the best case scenario. The worst case is completely humiliating myself in front of someone really famous,’ you reasoned.

You decided that a little embarrassment was a risk worth taking this time.

Kenma continued playing as usual, engaging and laughing with his audience. He felt his phone buzz and saw the screen light up beside him.

@(youruser) : for the record, I don’t think you fumbled me <3

He glanced at the screen, reading the notification, and immediately turned beet red. His heart raced as he processed the message. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the camera, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment, as if he were looking directly at you through the screen.

“I uh.. hold on guys i need to reply to this for a second.” He said as he proceeded to pause metal gear solid. 

Your screen was still open to your chat, and a surge of excitement ran through you when you saw the telltale indicator that he was typing.

Kodzuken : holy shit I’m so sry, didn’t know you were watching 

(Youruser) : ahahah dw its fine

Kodzuken : can I text you after I’m done? Totally fine if u don’t wanna tho

Well it wasn’t totally fine, he really hoped you’d say yes.

(Youruser) : I’ll be waitiiiing :) 

Needless to say, that was the longest a stream had ever felt. He could hardly wait to finish so he could talk to you; properly this time.

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤 ↓。

part two right here , also i found these banners on Pinterest, if anyone knows who made these pls lmk so i can give credit

[cameronspecial]

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases. 

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.” 

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.” 

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.” 

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall. 

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it. 

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity. 

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld