#I gotta find them I know I liked them a long time ago

[trippinsorrows]

without you + four

authors note: damn. it's been a minute. wanted to at least update this story for ya'll before christmas. i'll try my best to not make the next update take as long.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two + three

words: 5k

“Ooooh, this some nice white people shit.”

“Alexis!”

Leave it to this girl to always say some out of pocket shit at the wrong time. You offer an apologetic gaze to the workers who cast her an almost strange look at her outburst before elbowing your best friend. “Bitch, would you shut the fuck up.”

She sucks her teeth, offering an excuse versus an explanation. “What I say?” She gestures around the backyard that’s just about fully decorated. “You know black people. We usually got that one nice centerpiece of them big ass balloons and a Sam’s or Costco sheet cake for baby showers. That’s about it.” Rolling your eyes, she just has to add on. “It’s like when we have a funeral, and they done put Grandma Rose in them ghetto ass clouds talking about some sunrise to sunset.”

At that, you have to laugh. “Okay, you not wrong there.”

“I’m never wrong. Duh.”

“Whatever.” You take in once more just the opulent display that Alexis and Kaylah have been working on over the past few weeks. Initially, they wanted to find a venue to rent, but considering this baby shower will only include close friends and family, a venue seemed like too  much. Not to mention that Joe has been adamant about trying to keep this pregnancy as private as possible. Not necessarily from a place of wanting to hide it. No, if that was the case, he wouldn’t have shared some of the maternity pictures you took not even two weeks ago to his Instagram.

Or even some faceless photos of Callie. 

But, that’s something he can control. A sharing he has autonomy over and full say in. Paparazzi crashing your baby shower is not, thus the two of you deciding that the shower should just take place at your home.

And given the massive size of not only the actual house but your backyard, it’s a great decision. 

“It’s all looking so nice.” Kaylah’s voice enters the conversation as she walks over, clipboard in hand and a smile on her face. “How you doing, mama bear?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer honestly, “feeling big and pregnant.”

“Well….”

“Shut up, Lex,” you mutter, rubbing your belly. “These babies have definitely been kicking my ass with this back and breast pain.”

Granted, being five months pregnant with triplets, it’s an expected sort of discomfort. It’s helped immensely to have a fiancé that’s home and attentive and always willing to do whatever he needs or rather, whatever you need. He’s taken over Callie duties on the evenings where you just feel tired. He cooks most nights, partially because he knows your feet hurt and are swollen usually. But also, that little traitorous little girl of yours has made it clear she prefers daddy’s food over mommy’s food. He’s even gone as far as calling your mom and asking for tips on how to do Callie’s hair, as your ever growing belly has made that a little bit more difficult.

Put simply, he continues to be the perfect man. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life. 

Kaylah moves closer, hand on your stomach. She, along with other close family and friends, never need to ask. It’s just the strangers who you don’t know that need to stay six feet away at all times. “I can’t believe we’re only four months away from meeting them.”

Alexis shakes her head. “Earth, Wind, and Fire truly have no idea what kind of big ass, loving, chaotic family they’re about to be born into.”

Blowing out a breath, you scold her, “girl, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling them that?”

“Would you prefer Thing 1, 2, and 3?” No answer is all the answer she needs. “That’s what I thought.” And, of course, she has to just sneak on in there another attempt. “If you would just tell me the sexes—”

“Ain’t happening.” You shut that shit down real fast. “Joe and I already made it clear. We’re not revealing that until the shower.” A special thing kept between yourself, your fiancé, and the child you already share, as Callie was present for your last checkup appointment where you were able to find out the sexes. 

“Bitch, the shower is literally tomorrow.”

“And you, along with everyone else, will find out tomorrow then.” Alexis is visibly, playfully annoyed, as Kaylah only laughs. 

“I understand. We’re just excited. That’s all.”

And, you get it. The farther along you get in your pregnancy, the more excitement you feel at getting to meet your babies. All the shopping, the setting up of the nurseries (you and Joe decided on two rooms), even the deciding of the names. Even more, it’s been so special to have a partner in all of this. You might not have gotten that with Callie, but you’re damn sure getting it now, and it feels good.

—------

“I don’t know if I should take her to Disney by myself.”

Joe’s seemingly random statement takes you by surprise. Turning to him with a frown, you ask, “what?”

He sighs, also angling his body to you while his focus remains on your belly. “You’re so far along in your pregnancy. Anything could happen.”

“But, it won’t,” you stress, reaching up to palm his cheek. “Joe, I’ll be fine. My mom will be here with me. Both Kaylah and Alexis are less than 15 minutes away. I won’t be alone.” Because that seems to be what he’s thinking. “I want you guys to go. She’s really looking forward to it, and not just because the kid lives and breathes Disney.” Largely thanks to yourself and your mom. “Plus, that’s what she wants for her birthday.”

“Or a puppy.”

“I swear to God, if you or your mini me bring up that damn puppy one more time.”

He chuckles and moves to kiss your temple. “Just don’t want to not be here if you need me…”

“I’ll always need you in one way or another, Joe.” The God’s honest truth. “But, our daughter needs you more, and I want her to get in as much one-one-time with you before the babies arrive and she suddenly has to share you with three siblings.”

He eyes you, recognizing the unspoken concern in your statement. “You still think she’s going to get jealous?”

“I know she is,” you answer, matter-of-factly. “She’s a little kid. A mama and daddy’s girl. It’s natural. We’ll just have to make sure we reassure and look out for any signs.” Though you know not everything can be caught, and kids are sometimes good at hiding what they don’t want their parents to see. Granted, Callie has always been pretty open with you, so you hope that doesn’t change. 

As the two of you move back to folding clothes, you find yourself changing the subject, “also, not related, but before my baby brain kicks in, I was thinking, what if I applied for a job at her school?”

It’s something you thought about when you and Joe toured the private school that Ellie attends, a nice, expensive but safe option considering sending Callie to public school in the fall doesn't seem like the best or smartest move.

Working at your daughter’s school is also just something that would make you feel a little better. A new school. A new educational milestone. You wanna support her and be there for her as much as you can.

However, the less than thrilled look on Joe’s face definitely takes you by surprise. 

“You’re gonna work?”

It’s such a simple but silly question that makes you scoff quietly, “of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, grabbing another item to fold. A part of you is wondering if you’re even going to have room for the gifts you’ll receive at the baby shower tomorrow. You two have already gotten so many things, clothes especially. “Maybe because we’re about to have three newborns.” 

Rolling your eyes, you calmly counter, “No shit. I’m not thinking of going back right away. Maybe next fall. They’ll be one. Callie will be starting first grade, so it would be nice to be working at the place where she, and they, eventually, will be at.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you’re inclined to prompt a follow up when he finally breaks his silence. “I don’t know how that’s supposed to work.”

Frowning, you ask, “what do you mean?”

Joe sighs, an edge in his voice. “You seriously want to go back to work when we’ll have three one year-olds?” And before you can respond, he continues. “Who’s going to stay with them, Y/N? You’ll be working. I’ll be on the road—”

“It’s not like we’ll be working 24/7, Joe. And we’ve got a huge support system here. Your family. Kaylah. Alexis. It’s not like we’re alo—”

“You don't need to be working.”

Silence.

It’s a good minute before you speak again. “Excuse me?”

He blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair that’s down and hanging. “I want you to stay home with the kids full time—”

“Joe.” Cutting him off isn’t the best thing, but your emotion is starting to get the best of you. “You know me. You know damn well that I’m not the stay at home wife type. I’ve worked consistently since I was sixteen years-old, and I’m not about to stop just because you want me to.”

You love what you do. Teaching might be a stressful career, but it’s always been more rewarding than anything. And truth be told, you can’t imagine a life for yourself where you’re not doing it in some capacity.

Joe’s voice is even, his expression stern. “It’s not about me, Y/N. It’s about what’s best for the kids.”

“And if what was truly best for them is for me to be here full time, then I would do that, but it’s not necessary—”

“And that’s where I disagree with you,” he pushes back, angled completely toward you, arms crossed. He shrugs. “I think it is.”

Partially taken back by his stance on this, it still doesn’t prevent you from standing your ground. “Well then, I guess we’re not on the same page here then.”

“Not at all.”

It’s a strange thing, being on such opposite ends of the spectrum. Joe has always matched you so well, and unfortunately, that can include the level of stubbornness. He is never one to back down, but neither are you. 

So where does that leave you two?

“Mommy.”

Callie’s quiet voice breaks the intense impasse. Clearing your throat, you turn to her and force a small smile. “What’s up, sis?”

She moves her hands behind her back, teetering up and down on the heels of her feet. “Will you color with me?”

An easy answer if it will get you out of this room that’s suddenly filled with an uncomfortable amount of tension. 

“Callie, mommy and I need a few min—”

“Of course, I’ll color with you, baby.” Again, you fully recognize that cutting him off is rude and not the best way to handle this. A petty way, certainly. But, he also knows that when you get pissed off, it’s best to just give you some space.

Even if it’s not the best thing overall.

Not even bothering to look back at him, you walk over and take Callie’s hand, escorting you both out the room with another word.

Left alone with his thoughts, still irked at the conversation as a whole, Joe quickly and easily realizes telling you what he wanted you to do wasn’t the right approach.

He knows he has good reasons for his preferred plan regarding the whole work thing, but he also knows you, or should know you well enough, to know that trying to tell you what to do has never and will never end well.

It’s just he definitely wasn’t expecting your approach and outlook on this job thing, even if it makes sense for your character and what he knows about you. There was just this part of him that was thinking you’d maybe take a couple years off before returning to teaching. Wait until the kids are a little older. That makes most sense to him, and he’s sure if he maybe responded better and was cleared on his reasoning, you’d have been a bit more receptive.

Maybe not have walked out.

Joe’s phone dinging in his pocket prompts him to pull it out.

Megan: Hey there! Just wanted to follow up and let you know the housing and travel arrangements are all finalized.

Megan: Though I’m curious, you requested a house instead of an apartment? 

Megan: That’s a lot of room for just one man. 😉

Joe does find the added emoji a little strange, maybe unprofessional by some standards, but it’s the least of his worries right now.

Joe: Thank you for the update. My fiancée and daughter will be coming to visit when I have to stay for a few days for filming. Need the room for them.

And, it’s not set to happen very often, his management working with the film execs for a schedule that’s pretty flexible and allows him to be back home the same day for most of the filming. It’s just those few instances where he has to stay overnight, a couple days even, that he and you decided would be the times where you and Callie would stay with him.

Megan: Oh.

For some reason, Megan's response rubs him the wrong way, which is strange because up until this point, he’s had no issues with the young woman. She’s been professional, helpful, and informative. 

Megan: I think it’s so cool how family oriented you are. So freaking sweet.

Joe truly has no idea how to respond to that, because it’s not inherently wrong. If anything, it’s just a compliment, but there’s something about it…

Megan: Anyways, won’t keep ya! Hope you have a great rest of your evening, babe! ❤️

It’s that message, however, that crosses the line, prompting him to reply and remind her of his boundaries.

And her place.

Joe: As you said, I’m very family oriented, so I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that. The emoji is also inappropriate and makes me uncomfortable.

Someone never uncomfortable with setting a boundary, he feels nothing when he sees the typing bubble appear and reappear several times before her response slides in.

Megan: I am SO SO sorry. I’m so used to working with women, so my dialogue is sometimes women coded. Again, my apologies. Have a great evening, Joe.

It’s a response that he appreciates and doesn’t feel the need to respond to. He said what he needed to stay. She apologized and made it right. It’s all water under the bridge.

Joe goes to lock his phone and put it away when a thought crosses his mind. 

You have his passcode, are free to go through his phone, not something that you’ve ever done but something he doesn’t care about regardless. However, if you were to go through it for some reason, seeing this exchange could most definitely make you feel some type of way. 

And, it’s not that he feels guilty, Joe knows he handled it appropriately and accurately. But, he doesn’t want you getting upset, doesn’t need you experiencing any kind of unnecessary stress.

Something he’s already inadvertently contributed to by not handing your argument a few minutes ago correctly. 

None of that is good for you, and especially not for the babies, and when it comes to this pregnancy, he's not taking any risks.

Especially not with you as far along as you are.

Joe ultimately decides to delete the last three texts, letting the conversation stop at the “family oriented” comment from Megan.

Again, he doesn’t need a situation that’s not even a real situation being an issue.

It’s just better this way.

—------

You’re touching up your makeup, about to apply another coat of mascara to add the finishing touches to the complete look for the baby shower when you take a moment to appreciate your appearance. The white dress is beautiful against your melanin, and your mom did the damn thing with your hair. Ultimately deciding to wear your hair natural, mama opted to put it up in a beautiful, fancy updo that perfectly frames and highlights your beat face. 

The final product is something stunning and perfect, the ideal look you wanted and were aiming for on this big, special day. 

A knock on the bathroom door prompts you to lift your gaze to the mirror where you’re met with the lingering stare of your handsome fiancé.

Taking in his outfit, a white, short sleeved button up shirt, khaki shorts, topped off with white and gold Nike Freeks, a small smile falls on your face. It’s the perfect look for him. So Joe.

He walks in and closes the door behind him, coming to stand behind you. Your eyes shut as he holds you, hand on your bump, head in the crook of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments with a kiss pressed against your moisturized skin. 

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, reaching up and caressing the back of his head. “I’m sorry….”

“Naw, I’m sorry,” he interrupts in an equal voice, carefully turning you around as looks down with an apologetic countenance. “It wasn’t right for me to try to tell you what to do.”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly trying to be receptive.” Sleeping on it helped you arrive at that realization that with all of the glaring, embarrassing clarity. “I think I’m so used to doing things my way that I forgot it isn’t just about me and what I want, it’s about us and what works for my family.”

“I don’t want to take away from your autonomy, Y/N.”

“I know that, Leati.” Hand moving to palm his face, you remind, “but these babies mean we’re all going to have to adjust one way or another. I might have to take some time off from working full time.”

Because as much as you love what you do, Joe was right in that your kids might need you to be home more. Full time, even. And while it would definitely feel a little off going into a school year and not having a classroom to call yours, taking care of your children and making sure they’re straight would more than fill that void.

“And, I’m going to see about making my part time schedule permanent,” he shares, moving his hand to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze when you open your mouth to protest. “It’s what I want, babe. I told you before, I don’t want to miss anything else.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, suggesting, “maybe you could do something part time?”

“Maybe.” You shrug, reassuring, “regardless, we’ll figure it out and do what’s best not for you or for me but for our family.”

Because that’s what most important. Doing what’s best not for one but for all of you.

“We will,” he agrees, brushing his lips against yours, “I don’t ever want to go to bed not on good terms again, you understand me?”

Your thighs shouldn’t clench together the way they do at his commanding tone. It’s a serious thing that you agree with, but it’s the combination of his hard body against yours, his cologne invading your senses, and his minty breath against your face that has you pushing back….something.

“Yes, daddy.” A cheeky, double entendre that has his eyes narrowing. 

There's something so innocent yet downright filthy as he promises in a darkened voice, “you know Imma fuck the shit out of you when all is said and done today, right?”

Fuck.

More fluttering, even if it’s something you already know. Because it’s been three days, and that’s far too long to go without your favorite pastime. 

Hand moving over his crotch, you palm his dick through his pants. “Good, cause mama needs her fill.” Licking your lips, you add, “if we had time, I’d suck your dick right now.”

Because five months pregnant or not, so long as you can find a way to have this man inside of you, that’s exactly what you gon’ do. You both love sex too much to go too long without it. And, you both know the window in which you can realistically be sexually active during this pregnancy is waning, so you’ve gotta make the most of the time you do have.

Joe’s glare is light and teasing. “You such a nasty lil’ thing, you know that?”

Smiling and moving your arms around his neck, you cheekily remind him, “but that’s part of why you love me, ain’t it? Because I match your freak. Because mama loves when daddy puts her in her place. Ties, whips and bondage included….”

“Fuck, Y/N, you tryna make me hard?” A rhetorical but also serious question as he drops his hand to your backside, taking a handful of your supple ass in his big hands. “Want daddy to fuck his pussy with all them people down there and outside waiting for u—”

Several hard knocks on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Mommy! Daddy!” A smile breaks on your face as he closes his eyes, clearly trying to settle himself. “Grandma says it’s time!”

Laughing quietly, you call out, “okay, baby. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

And, of course, your forever inquisitive child has to ask, “what are you guys doing?”

Joe chuckles and slaps your ass before moving to open the door, a grinning Callie smiling even harder as she looks up at her favorite person. “Daddy!”

Reaching for him, Joe doesn’t hesitate to lean over and pick her up. Your smile grows at the sight of Callie dressed in her adorable white and gold dress, your mom also styling her curls into two big pom poms. 

She looks so much like Joe in this moment.

Callie gasps and compliments, “mommy! You look so pretty!”

“Thank you, Callie Bear.” You move over and kiss her cheek, deciding your current look is good enough. 

It’s time to celebrate your growing family.

—------

The Baby Shower is something out of a dream. 

Beautifully decorated, whites, blues, and pinks spread across your backyard, the aesthetic is very Pinterest aligned and everything you could have imagined for a day meant to celebrate the three lives you’ve created. 

Guests including several members of Joe’s family like his mom and sisters, Jon and Josh and their families. Alexis, too, of course. Jadah was invited but unable to make it due to work obligations. Regardless, it’s a wonderful outcome, being surrounded by all the people you love the most here to be with you during this great time in your lives. 

It’s a lot of laughter, a ton of great food, a tremendous amount of gifts, and an abundance of love that's felt from the moment you, Joe, and Callie walk out to the sound of Baby by Ashanti playing. Continues as there’s a damn near mass chorus that’s formed when When I See You by Fantasia comes on.

And the classic dances such as the Wobble and Electric Slide to Candy by Cameo that you most definitely get your big and pregnant ass to partake in.

But, one of your favorite parts has to be the photo station, several photos taken of yourself and Joe, various shots of his hands placed protectively over your stomach. Callie joins you for a couple photos as well, though it’s not missed upon you when she makes a face after one of Joe’s sisters jokingly makes a comment to her about “not being the only kiddo in the house anymore.”

It’s something you’ll certainly circle back around to at the end of the party, and it’s a time that’s nearing as the three of you start to kick off the moment everyone has been waiting for.

Joe’s deep voice travels across the spacious yard as he keeps an arm around you, Callie holds onto his shirt and stands on the other side of him. “We just want to thank all of you for taking time out to be here with us today.” 

“You already know we weren’t about to miss this,” Trinity shouts.

Jon laughs and adds, “hell no. Can’t remember the last time we had a set of triplets join the family.”

“That’s cause it don’t happen a lot in general,” Alexis chimes, sipping on her Henny. “But Big Di—”

“Like Joe said,” you cut her off, already knowing where that was going. “We’re so happy and blessed to have you all in our lives, and it means the world to us that our children, the babies and Callie, have so many people who love them just as much as we do.” 

Because knowing these amazing, wonderful people love your kids, even the ones that haven’t even arrived yet, as much as you and Joe do, truly is the best thing ever.

“But, we all know what ya’ll really wanna know,” Joe chuckles. “You wanna know the genders.” 

A round of agreement prompts laughter with someone shouting out “hell yeah!” and Josh saying something about “winning the bet.” 

As one of the workers brings over the three sets of balloons and pins, you and Joe make sure Callie has the right one before you take over. “Alright, is everyone ready?”

“Girl, would you hurry up? The new season of Baddies drops tonight!”

“Alexis, shut the hell up,” you laugh, shaking your head before turning to Joe. With a head nod, volume increased, you start with an excited tone, “the first baby is…..” And a small second of intentional delay before you pop the balloon, revealing blue confetti. 

More rounds of applause and cheers as Joe proudly announces, “a boy.”

“I knew it!”

“The Tribal Chief got a tribal heir!”

“Whew, sis, start them kegel exercises now!”

When the celebration dies down, Joe and Callie focus on you for your turn. You lift up the balloon as he kicks off this time, “the second baby is….” Another intentional delay followed by a pop, revealing more blue confetti.

Eyes watering, you share loudly and proudly, “another boy!”

The pure excitement on everyone's face, including your mom who has silent tears streaming down her face, has you blotting at your eyes. This moment couldn’t be anymore perfect.

Joe moves to pick up Callie, kissing her cheek, asking, “you ready, Callie Bear?” She nods with excitement, you and Joe speaking in synchronization as you stand close to him with your hand on his stomach, “and the third baby is…..” Callie counts to three, closes her eyes, and pops the balloon.

And as pink confetti blends with the blue, she shouts with all the happiness, “a baby girl!”

The crowd of family and friends is the loudest during the last and final reaction, deepening your happiness, mimicking that of which was felt when Dr. Young revealed the sexes to you at your last appointment.

Two boys and one girl is literally perfect. 

Your little family truly is truly going to be complete.

“And,” you cut through the cheers, one glance at your fiancé and daughter before you continue. “We have another surprise for ya’ll.”

“Don’t tell me there’s a fourth!”

Rolling your eyes at Jon, you cut right to it, “we’ve decided to share the names we’ve picked out.”

Gasps and excitement go around, Joe once again being the one to start off. “The firstborn boy will be named Iosefa Anoa’i.” 

Iosefa.

The Samoan variation of the name Joseph.

Gaze on Joe, it fills your heart with so much love to see and hear the pride in his voice and on his face. Having one of your sons named after him is the least you can do for this man. 

It’s what he deserves.

Clearing your throat, you provide the second name. “The second baby boy will be named Isaiah Anoa’i.” A strong, Biblical name. A name given in honor of your mom who has always loved said name. A moving gesture she clearly recognizes given the way she places both hands over her heart, mouthing ‘thank you.’

You mouth, 'I love you, too' back as both yourself and Joe redirect your focus to Callie for her big moment.

She giggles when Joe tickles her stomach before yelling, “and my baby sister will be named Moana Anoa’i!”

Deciding on names was such an intimate, thoughtful, moving process, and while they may not be as alike or even common as most triplet names, they mean something to you, Joe, and even Callie, who both yourself and your husband decided to let name her sister. 

Callie is your firstborn, special to both of you in ways that you can’t describe, so giving her that only felt right.

And as you re-enter the group of friends and family who have gathered here for this special occasion, you can’t help but imagine what that’s going to be like when it happens again. On a different day. For a different reason. A year or so away, when you stand before them and God and take the man who completes you as your better half.

A beautiful day indeed, even if it’s more for show and aesthetic anyway. 

Because unbeknownst to most of the guests, outside of Callie, your mom, and Joe’s mom, you have an appointment at the courthouse tomorrow morning at 10am sharp.

Because after tomorrow, not only will you and Joe Anoa’i share children.

You’ll share last names.

Because tomorrow is your wedding day. 

You’ll officially be Mrs. Y/N Anoa’i.

[firephoenix23]

So I know a lot of the pilots of Disney shows have been going around but someone sent me the pilot of what slugterra was going to be and I thought I would talk about it because it is interesting. First off it’s really short only about 3 minutes but basically it’s Eli or Elias Stone chasing what looks to be Dr. Blakk with Pronto or Pinto as he is called in the short

I want to apologize in advance some of these photos are not the best quality but I did what I had to. First off Slugterra was not originally called that it was called Subterrainea which thank god they changed it that is kind of a mouth full and it was a lot more western than sci-fi western we get later. Like even the blasters look like guns.

But let’s address the elephant in the room, why does Eli looks so ugly in this show 😂😂 and so much younger too. I feel like in the current show they make Eli look younger by making everyone around him look jacked as fuck even though all the younger male models look buff as well. But in this show he literally looks like a middle schooler. And I guess Trixie is like his friend from school who is the only one who knows about his adventures to Subterrainea. We don’t know if she goes with him or not but she at least knows. But thank god they changed Eli’s color scheme to blue, orange, white, and black. He’s a little better to look at than green, red, and pale yellow. I do wonder why all the changes though. I’m going to be wondering that the whole time

Which is the other thing I want to address is that Eli or well ELIAS and BEATRIX go to SCHOOL! We don’t know if Elias is like the protector or just goes down for the lols but we do know that he is trying to juggle this secret double life of going to school like a normal kid but also protecting the secret of Subterrainea like wow NEVER heard that premise for a kid show before 😒

That’s why I’m glad they cut out the surface all together but kept the secret part. I think it makes more of an impact in slugterra especially since it’s like who knows what. Also it just makes more sense. Like what kid would escape the world of slugterra travel 100 miles up just to go to middle school. Like nah fam couldn’t be me. Also I don’t actually know if they are in middle school but come on look at them.

Pinto is literally just Pronto even down to the voice acting. I like that they had the comic relief character down first before the main character. Also funny note did you know that Pronto in canon has a twin brother named Pinto. In ROTE Will Shane says like oh I’ve met you before and Pronto says no you’ve met my identical twin brother Pinto. I just think it’s funny that it’s a little nod to his pilot name

Uh Dr. Blakk kinda looks the same except for the hat and the mecha beast. It didn’t look like he was using ghouls just regular slugs so I’m not sure what Elias is chasing him down for. Elias shows Beatrix that he got a slug from him and then she touches it and the school lights go out which brings in SOOO many questions. Like is the surface electricity powered by slug energy???

I was gonna mention the slugs next but they are relatively the same except design wise. They look a lot more stylized and detailed than in the show which makes sense gotta save money where you can. Be honestly I’m glad they changed them some of them are kinda ugly like the joker looking one.

There are so many other things like why did they change Eli’s last name, why did they give him a white wolf mecha instead of the white horse (probably because it looks cooler not gonna lie), why is Elias Stone so ugly 😂😂 so many questions. But I think it’s just cool what slugterra could have been. It gives me such nostalgia for the late 2000s/early 2010s DisneyXD shows like Randy Cunningham, Kick Buttowski, Max Steel. Like all the EdGy boy cartoons that I somehow ended up watching as a little girl 😅

I mean I just looked and season wise and success wise Slugterra stomps them all. I mean which show has its own Roku channel the one and only Slugterra baby! 😂 But anyway I’m glad they made the changes that they did.

[jrueships]

guess whos not going in at all this week, actually

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Barça Boy

♥ masterlist

♥ pairing: pablo gavi x fem!driver!sainz!reader

♥ synopsis: for as long as you can remember your older brother carlos sainz has been a loyal fan of the football team real madrid. you were an f2 driver who never took your mind off of your own sport; that was until carlos brought you to a barcelona v real madrid game and you fell for a player on the opposing team.

♥ smau - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and hate comments !!!

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 243,530 more

yourusername I've been kidnapped (not clickbait)

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carlossainz55 I'm literally taking you to a madrid game

yourusername exactly 😔

user60 you should be greatful

user60 I'd kill to have those tickets

user71 she's always so ungrateful 🙄

user80 celebrities that don't know anything about the sport getting shit for free pisses me off

user6 @/user80 pretty sure Carlos payed for the two of their tickets but go off

user56 @/user80 not sure she even counts as a 'celebrity'

user7 NEED me some sombas

user8 im obsessed with their dynamic

user2 the sainz siblings >>>

landonorris @/carlossainz55 take me with you next time

user5 aww carlando dates

user3 gonna need a carlando football landolog asap

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Could you at least pretend like you're watching?" Carlos said, gazing at you as you scrolled through your phone.

You clicked the device off and slid it into your pocket.

"I'm sorry Carlos I'm just not really as interested in this as you are..." you paused. "I mean if I want to make it into F1 I gotta train right? I should be on the sim right now."

"C'mon," he groaned. "You're a Sainz, of course you're going to make it. Relax a little. Enjoy the game, please?"

You rubbed your eyes and sighed, "I'll try."

You crossed your arms and watched the game unfold. One of the Barcelona players scored a goal and went sprinting past you into a knee slide. He really caught your eye and you couldn't help but watch him the rest of the match.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, fcbarcelona, and 563,649 more

carlossainz55 up for adoption: Y/n. Formula 2 driver and FC Barcelona apologist. Former Sainz.

view comments

fcbarcelona we'll adopt you y/n

yourusername do I get a kit?

pablogavi you can have one of mine

yourusername @/pablogavi 🤭

user9 THE @ IS CRAZY

carlossainz55 😐

user7 GAVIIIII

user5 find yourself a man who will love you even when you wear sunglasses with hot sauce (possibly ketchup?) bottles on them

user8 former sainz 😭

user12 "barcelona apologist" 💀

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pablogavi, fcbarcelona, and 430,594 more

yourusername I guess I'm a culer now. thanks for the kit @/pablogavi it fits perfectly 😘

comments are restricted

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourusername, yourbestfriend, and 947,483 more

pablogavi look who I found

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user6 carlos’ face 😭

user50 thought you were “too busy” for football 😐

user61 no way gavi is settling for her

user2 no bc she’s so pretty 😍

user9 they’re literally the cutest couple

user1 those family reunions are gonna be awkward tho lmao

prema_team its good to see you gavi :)

*liked by original poster*

user12 he’s my favorite wag

liked by pablogavi, olliebearman, and 539,922 more

yourusername signed a contract with ferrari next season. I’ll see you on the grid big bro @/carlossainz55

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pablogavi estoy orgulloso de ti hermosa (I'm proud of you beautiful)

yourusername gracias mi amor

user7 so cute 🥹

user8 if I knew thirsting over him on main worked I woulda tried it years ago 😔

user6 madridista v culer war ferrari edition

user10 “my girlfriend is hotter than you” true 🤷‍♀️

carlossainz55 congrats or whatever

yourusername you know you love me

[honeyhotteoks]

always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date. 

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either. 

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers. 

You just wish you never told Mingyu. 

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid. 

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure. 

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you. 

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it. 

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile. 

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth. 

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought. 

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you. 

You do fast math, panic math. 

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home. 

Your stomach churns. 

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you. 

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain. 

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this. 

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots. 

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call. 

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing. 

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride. 

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box. 

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone. 

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,” 

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?” 

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?” 

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop. 

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys. 

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops. 

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,” 

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming. 

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first. 

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress. 

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care. 

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless. 

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.  

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately. 

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. 

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse. 

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill. 

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air. 

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather. 

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way. 

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?” 

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,” 

He blinks, “y/n,” 

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,” 

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality. 

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you. 

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,” 

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position. 

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.  

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?” 

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red. 

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know,” 

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.” 

Oh. 

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,” 

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words. 

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,” 

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact. 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?” 

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,” 

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish. 

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,” 

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.” 

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,” 

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait. 

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory. 

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,” 

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone. 

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,” 

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little. 

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,” 

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road. 

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,” 

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile. 

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,” 

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,” 

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?” 

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,” 

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave. 

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,” 

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in. 

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.” 

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?” 

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,” 

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,” 

“I know,” You breathe. 

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?” 

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,” 

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,” 

 “I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,” 

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,” 

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?” 

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.” 

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly. 

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,” 

His hand tightens on yours. 

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” 

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour. 

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,” 

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,” 

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.” 

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,” 

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green. 

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,” 

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty. 

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,” 

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?” 

“Shut up,” He sighs. 

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?” 

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,” 

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,” 

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,” 

He grimaces, “Ugh,” 

“Exactly,” 

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,” 

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal. 

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?” 

“You want to come up?” 

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol. 

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times. 

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,” 

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here. 

“So,” He clears his throat lightly. 

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,” 

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride. 

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding. 

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go. 

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,” 

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands. 

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps. 

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,” 

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,” 

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,” 

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?” 

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,” 

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom. 

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself. 

But then he laughs again. 

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?” 

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf. 

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,” 

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign. 

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile. 

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,” 

He nods, “I remember,” 

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,” 

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,” 

“Mm,” You laugh. 

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee. 

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise. 

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’” 

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,” 

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,” 

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little. 

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,” 

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,” 

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?” 

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,” 

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you. 

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,” 

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back. 

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue. 

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,” 

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” 

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee. 

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question. 

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods. 

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”  

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash. 

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,” 

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply. 

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning. 

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it. 

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least. 

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” 

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,” 

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,” 

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,” 

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has. 

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours. 

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist. 

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird. 

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?” 

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in. 

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,” 

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you. 

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,” 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,” 

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw. 

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,” 

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already. 

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants. 

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss. 

“God,” He shivers. 

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,” 

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away. 

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,” 

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,” 

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back. 

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,” 

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth. 

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart. 

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms. 

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip. 

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?” 

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small. 

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,” 

“Okay,” 

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?” 

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards. 

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.” 

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,” 

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze. 

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,” 

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?” 

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,” 

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And you wanted me?” 

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,” 

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,” 

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,” 

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity. 

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,” 

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out. 

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,” 

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat. 

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,” 

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders. 

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,” 

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,” 

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again. 

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,” 

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,” 

“Baby?” 

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,” 

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley. 

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,” 

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?” 

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,” 

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you. 

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” 

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?” 

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?” 

“Please,” You whisper. 

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric. 

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess. 

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,” 

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else. 

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,” 

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,” 

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,” 

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises. 

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,” 

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again. 

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction. 

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently. 

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,” 

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,” 

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

  “Can I eat you out?” 

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,” 

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you. 

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you. 

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,” 

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze. 

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,” 

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile. 

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” 

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly. 

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,” 

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly. 

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,” 

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam. 

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip. 

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this. 

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.  

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little. 

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,” 

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?” 

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high. 

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?” 

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” You kiss him back. 

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast. 

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,” 

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,” 

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?” 

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,” 

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?” 

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,” 

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,” 

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,” 

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,” 

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth. 

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,” 

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,” 

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. 

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you. 

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,” 

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,” 

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts. 

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap. 

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,” 

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,” 

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder. 

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit. 

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,” 

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,” 

Everything you are is trembling in his hands. 

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,” 

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin. 

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,” 

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open. 

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,” 

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,” 

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,” 

He sighs, “This pussy,” 

“Cheol,” You blush hard. 

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,” 

“Anything?” 

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.” 

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?” 

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,” 

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,” 

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench. 

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen. 

You want him inside you so badly you could cry. 

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his. 

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder. 

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs. 

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,” 

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,” 

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,” 

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?” 

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder. 

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?” 

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand. 

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,” 

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls. 

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper. 

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,” 

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,” 

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

Your muscles clench down around his fingers. 

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?” 

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?” 

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again. 

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,” 

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you. 

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz. 

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again. 

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you. 

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams. 

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go. 

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease. 

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms. 

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,” 

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?” 

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,” 

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?” 

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone. 

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,” 

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him. 

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,” 

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock. 

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,” 

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him. 

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,” 

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him. 

He nods, just a little. 

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,” 

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers. 

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this. 

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,” 

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?” 

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,” 

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs. 

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel. 

“y/n,” He pants tightly. 

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down. 

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,” 

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early. 

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,” 

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,” 

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again. 

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips. 

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest. 

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,” 

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,” 

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards. 

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,” 

Your eyes slam shut. 

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,” 

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming. 

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”  

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,” 

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

  “So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss. 

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,” 

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm. 

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,” 

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you. 

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,” 

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together. 

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move. 

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,” 

You laugh against him, “Next time?” 

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,” 

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,” 

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,” 

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly. 

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,” 

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,” 

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,” 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,” 

“Good,” He sighs. 

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,” 

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,” 

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs. 

Maybe you could rally. 

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,” 

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,” 

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing. 

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed. 

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. 

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine. 

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads. 

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,” 

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest. 

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake. 

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention. 

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,” 

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,” 

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,” 

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,” 

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,” 

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups. 

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,” 

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,” 

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?” 

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest. 

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,” 

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog. 

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel. 

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,” 

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks. 

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,” 

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,” 

“You what,” You blink. 

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,” 

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go. 

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,” 

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side. 

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue. 

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,” 

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you. 

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,” 

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap. 

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,” 

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?” 

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,” 

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand. 

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,” 

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,” 

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch. 

[ssorenz]

F*CK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY!!

pairings (separate) ୨ৎ : toji fushiguro x reader, gojo satoru x reader, choso kamo x reader, suguru geto x reader

contains ୨ৎ : adult content (mdni), piv penetration, jealous/angry s*x, face sitting, c*nnilingus, overstim, car sex, squ*rting, edging, oral s*x (giving and receiving), pet names

a/n ୨ৎ : i might make a part 2 w/ sukuna, higuruma, nanami and shoko (or others), but it depends on how well this does!! not proofread btw, i posted this while half asleep 👎

in honor of me hitting 300+!!

toji fushiguro—☆

“fuck did i tell you about hangin’ out with that— bastard?” toji emphasizes each of his words with a snap of his hips. deep, merciless strokes into that, slick, puffy cunt of yours.

it was tired, tired from all the abuse it had taken. toji managed to pull three— no, four orgasms out of you in the span of an hour.

impossible for some. but toji? never that. he knew you like the back of his hand.

which is exactly how he knew you’d be so gullible, so naive, towards your conniving coworker.

of course you didn’t notice when he’d take glances at your tits as they restrained in your uniform. of course, when he offered to take you out to restaurants, you thought of it as ‘strictly business’.

but of course, thats what toji was here for— to keep you in check.

“im, haah— m’sorry tojii!!” you choked out a pathetic sob, trying your best to find common ground with the man. this torture had gone on for.. god knows how long. your brain was too fuzzy to even attempt to recall what time it was.

“sorry, my ass. shoulda’ been sorry a long time ago, mama. s’too late for all that now..” he grunted in reply, still continuing the ungodly pace he was going at.

jackhammering himself into you at this point— his full, aching balls slapping against your wetness.

he had your back arched— face up, ass down, hands tied behind your back, bobbing up and down with each mean thrust. red marks ingrained into the fat of your hips from the way he hooked his nails into them, making sure you’d be unable to run from him.

and it wasn’t just your hips that were marked, oh no. the crook of your neck, just along your collarbone, the inner and outer regions of your plush thighs. toji made sure to mark you up real nice and good.

“if you were really sorry,” he continued. “you would’ve stopped fuckin’ talking to that asshole months ago. then he woulda never thought it was— shit, be so handsy wit’ ya’.”

as toji replayed the scene in his head, his strokes were even sharper, practically burying you into the mattress at this point. he remembered picking you up from work, in your blouse and short pencil skirt that rode up your ass.

your coworker stopped you before leaving though, exchanging a quick goodbye, and a ‘simple hug.’ atleast thats what you called it.

but having his hands around your waist, slowly inching towards the hem of your skirt was anything but simple.

“toji, please— m’ really sorry! didn’t know..” you almost incoherently babbled out. the way his cock repeatedly pummeled its way against your sweet spot, it had you dumb. stupid, even.

“ya’ never fuckin’ know, huh? poor thing..gotta protect you from these men out here, yeah? need me by your side at all times?” he cooed sarcastically as you frantically nodded in reply.

“need you, daddy. n-need you to protect me—”

toji chuckled darkly, almost feeling bad from how pathetic you looked, how pathetic you sounded. the way your eyes rolled back as he hit your g-spot over and over, or the helpless cries that left your mouth as he did so.

“good. n’ thats how it needs to stay, mama.”

satoru gojo—☆

satoru couldn’t wait. he physically could not wait until he got home. no no, he needed you now.

his hands were engulfed in your hair, grabbing a plentiful handful as he bobbed your head up and down, soft groans of pleasure emitting from his parted lips.

“you thought that shit you pulled today was funny, yeah? messy fuckin’ girl.”

gojo had a meeting earlier with the higher-ups, discussing training for his students. you were practically on your knees, begging to tag along. after some consideration, he obliged (of course)—after all, who’s he to deny his favorite girl?

unfortunately for you, the meeting was more boring than you thought. listening to their voices drone on for what felt like eternities made your head ache.

unfortunately for satoru though, you let boredom get to the best of you.

he looked so damn attractive next to you, so professional— like his whole demeanor changed. your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere. your hands couldn’t help but wander either, as they discreetly drifted to the middle of his lap.

gojo let out a soft groan as you began palming him through his slacks, but was quick to conceal it with a cough. he tried desperately not to react too visibly, but it was becoming increasingly tormenting with each passing moment.

finally, after what felt like an eternity for both of you (though likely only seconds), satoru couldn't contain himself any longer— interrupting the meeting abruptly by announcing that you both needed to leave early due "to personal matters." with that excuse out of the way, he dragged you out before anyone could question the sudden departure.

to be quite frank, it was hilarious. well, in your eyes atleast. for satoru…?

ah, not so much.

mascara ran down your cheeks, tears welling up—blurring your vision as you felt the tip of his cock hit your uvula over and over. you could feel it throbbing angrily in your mouth as your tongue slobbed around the base.

gojo continued thrusting his hips back and forth into your mouth, holding onto your hair tightly. looking up, you could see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, milky strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

even in his state, he still looked so dreamy.

satoru held you down, forcing you onto his base, your nose brushing against his well-kept happy trail. you choked, strings of drool pooling effortlessly down his cock. he let out a deep, throaty moan that seemed to reverberate inside the car. your mouth was so warm, so welcoming.

gojos thrusts intensified as he continued to recklessly pound himself into your slack jaw, the salty taste of his precum dribbling onto your tongue. he was close to cumming— you both knew it.

his movements became more shaky and jagged, sloppily going in and out of your mouth before stopping. before you knew it, sweet yet salty ropes of his essence painted the back of your throat— making you instinctively swallow. satoru quickly pulled out, resting his bare cock on your face as he felt another load arising.

and it did, painting your pretty face with his sticky, pearlescent seed.

gojo looked at the sight beneath him, cursing underneath his breath as he admired how good you looked. even covered in his cum, even with your hair all disheveled, you still looked amazing.

“a-acting out to get what you want— tsk, what a brat.” he teased, still recovering from his orgasm. typical gojo, even in his weakest moments, he never lost his charm nor attitude.

“well it worked, didn’t it?” you retorted, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

“i- uh. . . no comment.”

kamo choso—☆

choso was never the type to take his anger out on his loved ones, especially you.

the half curse, half human wasn’t unfamiliar with the feelings of anger and jealousy, although he never experienced the writhing feeling first hand.

but of course, there’s always a first time for everything.

“mine, mine, mine—“ choso whined, a series of breathless moans following soon after as he shamelessly pummeled into you. he had you in a nasty mating press as you lay flat on the bed, legs damn near reaching your ears.

“you’re my girlfriend, no one else’s. . . especially not— hngh, his.”

your male friend, who obviously had the hots for you. choso was baffled you couldn’t tell, as his flirtatious remarks and actions weren’t even that subtle.

the way he’d compliment your outfits, blatantly staring at your chest— especially when you wore lower cut tops. or when he’d ogle at your curves, licking his lips as his eyes rode up your thighs.

or like today, when he suggested you leave your boyfriend for him. now that, was choso’s last straw.

"you really shouuuld, ya know?" he slurred into your ear, clearly intoxicated from the drinks you both were sipping on. choso was just a few feet away in the living area, engrossed in some show he was watching. but his eyes flicked over to you occasionally, as he kept an eye on the situation.

"i mean, why are you even with him?" your friend continued, his voice a loud whisper, clearly thinking he was discreet. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you. someone like... me."

choso was enraged—he undeniably heard every word. someone who really appreciates you? the nerve.

standing up, he approached you two, shooting daggers into your friends wicked expression as he wrapped his muscular arm around your waist.

but that cockiness soon faltered after noticing your boyfriends deadly glare. your male friend started pathetically apologizing, claiming it was a ‘joke.’

but even choso knows that drunk words are sober thoughts.

“f-fuuck, ‘cho…he, aah— didnt mean it!”

“dont c-care…” he grunted, low and rough. his jagged, uncontrolled, breaths tickled against your skin as he nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. “i appreciate you more than he, nngh, ever w-will.”

you let out a soft moan, his words shooting shivers down your spine. choso was never like this— so possessive. but who’s to say you were complaining?

he continued ravishing into you, so carnally— the feeling of being so completely claimed by him was both exhilarating and terrifying.

but damn, it turned you on like nothing else.

his pants echoed in your ears as he picked up speed, his body moving against yours in perfect rhythm, the sound of his thighs slamming against your own. any thoughts you had, fled from your mind except for the sensation of his cock bottoming out inside you and the way he took control of both your body and mind.

as the intensity built, you could feel yourself getting closer to you peak. you didn't want it to end, but you also knew that when it did, the pure feeling alone would be delectable.

“choso— m’gonna, f-fuck! mm’gonna cumm~!” you blubbered out, your eyes starting to pool. with those words, he picked up his pace even more— delving deeper inside of you. just as you were about to let go and give in, adrenaline coursing through your veins, choso objected.

"n-not yet,” he denied. “m’ not done with you yet."

geto suguru—☆

“s’too much, sug’!” you sobbed loudly as geto’s tongue danced around your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

you squirmed and writhed on suguru's face, your hips grinding against his mouth as he expertly teased your clit with his tongue. you couldn't believe how good it felt, how skilled he was at his craft.

"suguru..." you panted, gripping the headboard tightly as yet another wave of pleasure hit you like a semi-truck. "m’sorry, please. i-i didn’t mean it…”

suguru chuckled softly against your sensitive flesh, his expression twisting into a devilish grin. "oh?" he teased, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "didn’t mean what? i can’t quite recall what it was."

he knew exactly what you were implying. yet, he was teasing— because the both of you knew what you said earlier contradicted this current state you were in now.

you bit your lip, feeling a warm blush creep up on your cheeks at the memory of what had come out of your mouth during the heat of the moment. "..‘said that you n-never make me cum," you mumbled sheepishly.

geto paused for a moment before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor, causing yet another surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. "is that so? hm… i’ve never made you cum?" he asked mockingly, his voice full of amusement. “well she’s tellin’ me otherwise baby.”

he was referring to your cunt. the way “she” squelched as suguru slid his slender fingers in with ease, coated from your own slick mixed with his saliva.

the way he curled those digits inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch and moans escape from between parted lips even as they were pressed against his face.

as his fingers continued to stroke your inner walls, searching for that perfect spot that would send you over the edge, his other hand reached up to play with one of your nipples.

the combination of the two was enough to make your head spin and your body shudder with anticipation. "s-suguru..." you whimpered out between gasps for air. "please... don't stop..."

his only response was a low rumble from deep within his chest—vibrating against your cunt as he swirled his tongue around your clit once again before finally taking it into his mouth completely, plunging two fingers deep inside of you.

a sharp hiss escaped from between your clenched teeth, followed by a subdued cry as suguru circled inside of you. he smirked, watching eagerly as your facial expression twisted lewdly with each nasty ministration. he was such a tease.

it felt as though your very being was on the verge of exploding. every nerve ending screamed for release, begging to be set free from this torment. the tension coiled tightly within you, threatening to snap at any moment and send waves of ecstasy crashing over your body.

you could feel it coming closer now— that inevitable peak where all sensations would converge into one, resulting in a mind-blowing orgasm. your heart raced, pounding against your chest like a drum signaling an approaching storm. sweat trickled down between your breasts and pooled at the small of your back as you arched further into suguru's touch.

but as quick as the pleasure built to a crescendo, it ended just as fast.

geto pulled his mouth away suddenly, grinning up at you from his spot between your legs, eyes sparkling with mischief. "since you said i never make you cum," he teased, his fingers curling inside of you in a way that threatened to push you over the edge yet again.

"i’m sure someone else will be able to help alleviate that little problem of yours." and with those words, he rose from his place underneath your figure. your legs being shaky, unstable, gave out beneath you, making you plop onto the mattress.

as geto sauntered towards the door with a smug smile on his face, he turned back to give one last taunt. “dont worry," he said with an air of false concern. "it shouldn’t be too hard finding someone that makes you cum as hard as i do."

DSIIRESBLOG™ 2024 — comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[revasserium]

Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

[whateveriwant]

Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️

Ghost

When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent

I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet

He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter

This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day

So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now

It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist

You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly

He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you

Soap

Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth

All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office

It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news

While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop

However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples

The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation

Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound

Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case

Gaz

"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first

However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself

It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing

It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University

At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands

He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow

Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet

It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead

Price

Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two

Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something

To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future

He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?

Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy

Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets

At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man

"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"

[theemporium]

[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

“She is hiding something.”

Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 

“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.

“Cap’s new girl.” 

Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 

“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 

Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”

Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.

“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 

“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 

“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 

“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”

“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 

Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”

“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 

Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 

Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.

“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 

“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.

“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”

“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”

“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”

“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 

Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 

“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 

Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.

“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.

“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”

“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

…

All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.

And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 

“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 

Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 

“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 

Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”

Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 

“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 

“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 

“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 

“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 

“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  

“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 

Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 

Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”

Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thursday night?”

“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 

But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.

It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.

“I fucking knew it!” 

Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 

“Knew what?” 

“She’s a vampire!” 

Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”

“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 

“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”

“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 

Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”

Jonas raised his brows in response. 

“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 

“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. ��Hughesy has a point.”

“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 

“Uh, like five?” 

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 

Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 

“Shut up and answer the question.” 

Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 

“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 

Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 

“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 

“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 

“Low blow, Bas.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”

“I’m gonna prove it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Just wait and see, Siegs.”

…

Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 

It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 

Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 

Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 

“Ready to eat dirt?”

Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 

“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”

“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.

“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”

Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 

He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 

“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.

“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 

Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 

“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.

“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.

“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 

Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 

“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 

You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 

Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 

“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 

“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 

“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.

“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”

“You need help.” 

…

The next attempt happened a week later. 

You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 

“What?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.

“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 

Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 

“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.

Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 

Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 

“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 

“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.

“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 

“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 

“Like what?” Nate questioned.

“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.

“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 

“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.

“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 

For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.

…

During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.

Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 

It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.

“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”

Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”

Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 

Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.

All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.

“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”

Jonas frowned at his wording.

“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”

“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 

“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”

“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.

“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”

“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.

Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”

“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 

“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”

“You know I’m right!” 

“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 

…

Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 

He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 

Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 

But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.

In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 

Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 

And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 

They do not show up in photographs. 

It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 

It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 

So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 

Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 

He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 

Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 

“C’mon, say it again.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 

“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.

You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”

Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”

“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 

However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 

“Jack?”

Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 

You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.

Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 

Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 

“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”

You blinked. “I what?” 

“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 

Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 

“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 

“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 

Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 

“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”

“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 

“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”

“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”

“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.

“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.

“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”

You snorted in response. 

“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 

“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.

“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 

You snorted in response.

“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.

You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 

This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.

…

“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 

Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.

“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”

Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 

“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 

“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 

“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.

“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 

Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.

“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 

You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 

“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 

“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.

.

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day 2: Stalker / Somnophilia

Azriel x Reader || WC: 1.8k

You threw your head back in a rehearsed laugh, it was too perfect, too well-timed, like it had been used a hundred times before. And it had been, ever since you started working at Rita’s a couple months ago. 

You got along well with everyone you worked with, Rita herself was a good boss, the patrons aren’t awful, but the males can be annoying. 

It’s usually about ten males and females that flirt with you. Trying to convince you to sleep with them, using the same sleazy pick-up lines. The males almost always reeking of alcohol while giving you fuck me eyes as they order another drink, and that’s on a slow nights. 

The females are usually more charming, at least. 

On busier nights, it's anywhere between twenty to fifty males or females, trying to convince you, and tonight is no different. At least they tip well. 

The male sitting in the bar stool in front of you is no different. You couldn’t really hear his pick-up line over the music, the dancing patrons, or the fae seated at the gambling table to your left, but you laugh anyway. He does too.

You reach for a new clean glass, and with a practiced hand you pour the drink from the tumbler, the amber liquid cascading in a steady stream. Then place it in front of the blond haired male with the same practiced smile you give almost all the patrons. 

His hand wraps around your wrist before you can pull it back–which is what you wanted–he smirks, “Here you go, beautiful.” He places two gold marks in your palm. 

You force your smile a bit more, making your dimples show, “Thank you.”

His eyes fall to your lips and his hands linger on yours. “What time are you off?”

Blowing out a soft breath, “Not for hours,” you frown. 

“I’m a patient male, I can wait.” He replies, his words slurring slightly. 

Feeling like someones watching you, you look away from him, eyes scanning the pleasure hall, but don’t see anyone watching you. Hmm, weird. 

Looking back at the male in front of you, giving him a small smile, “Maybe another night. It looks like I’ll be here till the sun rises.”

He nods. “Another night, then.” Then he rejoins his friends at one of the gambling tables. 

You pocket the gold marks, in one of the pockets of the apron tied around your waist when Rita comes up next to you, smirking. Her warm brown eyes follow your hand amusedly. A manicured brow arching. 

“What,” you chuckle. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

She shakes her head laughing, “You say it as if I don’t pay you enough.”

“Oh you do,” you grin. And she does, very well actually. “But, a little extra never hurts.”

Rita grins back, “No, it does not.” You reach for a clean rag to wipe down the counter when Rita speaks again. “Y/n, do you mind going to table 7 and taking their order?” 

You glance at her, “Yeah, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she beams, already walking to the other end of the bar. 

You finish wiping down the counter and start walking backwards, towards the hinged section of the counter. “Hey Kai,” you call your coworker who’s also bartending tonight. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to take a table order!” 

He nods. You lift the hinged section of the counter, slipping through, and let it fall back into place with a quiet thud. 

Weaving through drunk and dancing patrons, heading straight for Table 7, declining their invitations to dance. 

Finally, getting through the crowd, you spot long familiar golden blonde hair and curves dressed in red. 

As soon as you get to the table, Mor squeals, “Y/n!” Pulling you in for a hug. “I missed you!”

You laugh. “Mor, I saw you yesterday.”

She pulls back, still gripping your shoulders, “So what, I can’t miss you?” 

You laugh again, and the same feeling of being watched washes over you. Your eyes flit around the table and find hazel eyes already fixed on you. 

And you don’t know why, but you smile at him. A real genuine smile for Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court. He tips his chin down. 

Looking back at Mor, “You can do whatever you want.”

She grins, “I always do.” Then sits back down.

With a small tentative smile, you greet everyone at the table. The High Lord and Lady of Night and their inner circle. “What can I get for you tonight?” 

Nodding every time one of them says an order and then going back to the bar to make them. Five minutes later you go back to their table, all their orders balanced on a tray.

You hand out their drinks, eyes lingering on Azriel a little longer than necessary, he does the same. 

Taking a step back with the tray tucked under your arm, “Enjoy your drinks,” you say politely. They all thank you and you turn on your heel and head back behind the bar. 

You continue working for the next few hours. Mor comes up to the bar a couple times for a few more rounds throughout the night. Her and the inner circle call it a night two hours before closing time. 

It’s an hour left before the sun rises and you’re finally on your way home. Kai wraps an arm around your shoulders as he walks you back to your apartment. 

You two have been friends for centuries. His boyfriend is actually your cousin, distantly, but still. And they live around the corner from

you.

“Make good tips tonight?” He asks.

“Yeah, not too bad.” You got really good tips tonight actually. Thank you Mor. “It was a busy night.”

“Yeah, it was,” Kai agrees.

You’re a few minutes from your apartment when you stop abruptly. Looking around. 

“What?” Kai asks, looking at you. 

Shrugging, “I don’t know. . . I just feel like someone’s watching us.” Watching you. A pair of hazel eyes comes to mind.

He looks around. “I don’t see anyone.” Neither do you. 

You let out a soft sigh, “I think I'm just tired.” 

He nods, “let’s get you home.” 

The rest of the walk to your apartment is in comfortable silence. Kai walks you all the way up to your door and waits until you step inside before leaving. 

Entering your apartment, you walk past the kitchen and head straight towards your bedroom. 

Trudging into the en-suite bathroom, your moments slow and heavy as you turn the knobs of your shower. The shower head sputtered before a steady stream of water began to flow. 

You lazily undress and step into the shower. The warm water cascading over your aching body. You stand there for a moment letting the exhaustion wash away before reaching for the soap. Showering quickly and efficiently before shutting the shower off. 

You dry off and climb into bed naked, too tired to change into your night clothes. 

Hazel eyes belonging to a certain Illyrian are the last thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep. 

You dream of him. Of Azriel. His face is clear, his deep voice like silk, and his hands are touching you. Exploring you. His leathers feel cold against your bare skin. 

“Azriel,” you whisper breathlessly as he kisses and nibbles on your neck, chest, and tummy. 

One of his hands roaming over your tits, and they harden into peaks beneath his touch, his other hand teases the skin on your lower tummy. Right above where you actually want him. 

His touch is light, faint like a shadow, making your hips buck. Trying to get him to touch you where you want. Need. 

“I’m here, angel.” Azriel murmurs, his voice is like dark silk. 

“Touch me,” you pant lightly. “I want you to touch me.” 

You feel him smile against your skin, then his hand lowers and you spread your soft thighs apart, one thick scarred finger pushing into you. 

Moaning when he starts to curl it. His thumb tracing tight little circles on your clit. 

Azriel groans deep in his chest at the sound his finger draws from your wetness. “Is this what you wanted, angel?” 

“Mhm,” you moan. “But I want more.” 

“You want another finger? You want me to fuck your sweet little cunt with my fingers?”

Your breath hitches at his words, but you shake your head, gently. “I want you to fuck me, Az.”

He makes a tortured sound, low in his throat, “Are you sure, angel?”

“Please,” you nod eagerly, your hand moving to cup his hardening length that’s pressing against your thigh. And you feel it twitch beneath your touch. “Please fuck me.” 

Azriel doesn’t say anything. He just pulls his finger out of you and you feel him move, settling between your spread legs. 

The sound of his leathers coming undone fills your ears next. 

A large scarred hand settles on the back on your thigh, holding you in place, and then he pushes in slowly. 

He sucks in a sharp pushing in, inch by inch, his thick hard length stretching you. 

When he’s fully seated you clench around him, earning a low moan from him, but he doesn’t move. Not yet. He waits, letting you get used to his size.

“Move,” you breathe. 

He leans back, rocking back into you slowly. Tenderly. Sensually. 

“Az,” you whine, and he pushes in deeper, the head of his cock massaging that sweet spot inside of you. 

A gasp escapes your lips, eye’s snapping open at the feel and bright hazel eyes meet yours. 

You gasp again and Azriel grins at you darkly. His hazel eyes nearly glowing in the darkness of your moonlit bedroom. “I told you, I was here, angel.”

His shadows leave him to play with you instead, some push your hair back and caress your face, others explore and trace every part of your body. Those shadows seem to favor your hard nipples and swollen clit. 

You open your mouth to speak, but a loud moan comes out instead, “Oh, gods!” 

A deep coiling tension starts to build deep inside you. Walls fluttering around his cock. 

Azriel grunts, hips never faltering as he pushes into you somehow deeper. Chasing both of your climaxes. 

“You’re mine,” he growls. “You’ve been mine since I first saw you four months ago, your first night at Rita’s.”

“I-I never,” you huff between breathes, “saw—“

“Saw me that night?” His thrusts start to get more frantic. “I know, but I saw you.” His breathing gets heavier. “I’ve been keeping an eye on what’s mine ever since,” he admits.

“That was you!” Your shock comes out as more of a whimper. But the tension in your body tightens at his admission. 

Azriel answering smirk is feral. “Say you’re mine,” he growls. And you know he can feel you cunt gripping him. 

“Say it!”

“I’m yours!” You cry out and it’s enough to snap the tension. 

Both of you coming undone together, with one word on your lips, “Yours!”  It pours out of your lips in a pleasurable chant. 

“Mine,” pours out of Azriel’s in a vow.

Time slows as you both shatter, splintering, as the world seems to stutter on its axis. Azriel nearly collapses on top of you from the force of his orgasm and you claw at his back, the only thing tethering you to your body as your vision blurs.

Your knuckles accidentally rubbing against his wing making his entire body shudder as his cock pulses inside you. Your cunt clenching around him in response.

****

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Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[sunrizef1]

Try Again Pt.2

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: None

A/N: wrote this while sick so it took a while sorry

Pt.1

———————————————————

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by judebellingham landonorris and 21,080,321 others

load comments…

user1 she’s so pretty

user2 WHERES LEWIS

user3 where is she???

user4 she tagged England on her ig story a few days ago but there’s some pap photos that say Monaco

user5 she’s so hot dude

landonorris six glasses for u n who???

liked by yourusername

landonorris don’t just like my comment you bitch

liked by yourusername

user6 I miss dad

user7 beautiful

user8 would it be enough if I could never give you peace… 😭😭😭

user9 the way these lyrics have nothing to do with the post 😒

user8 I just miss Lewis girl 🙄

user10 maybe we just leave them alone… just an idea

charlesleclerc 🇲🇨🤩

yourusername thought this was a compliment for me but then realized ur just in love with Monaco

charlesleclerc you can’t change me 🤷‍♂️

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris jackharlow and 28,008,981 others

yourusername 🇲🇨🌊☀️

load comments…

user11 LEWIS

user12 TARGET ACQUIRED 🎯

user13 FOUND HIM

user14 Lewis i know that’s you

user15 you don’t have to hide his face girl… we won’t hurt him

user16 his apology better have been pretty fucking grand

user17 why???

user18 vibes say he fucked up

user19 not to mention the shit he pulled with that ig model after the breakup

landonorris I’m gonna find you

yourusername ???

landonorris lock your doors

f1gossip 🤭

user20 I’m not sure about this one…

user22 bad vibes bad vibes

user23 I’m so glad they’re back together

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris rubendias and 16,098,234 others

yourusername back home ✈️🇬🇧

load comments…

user24 girl what happened with you and Lewis???

user25 r u okay girl???

user26 I feel so bad for her

user27 what’d he doooooo

landonorris answer ur phone nerd

user28 puppy 😍

user29 is she from England???

user30 no but she’s lived there for a rly long time, it’s how she met Lewis and Lando

charles_leclerc my love ❤️

yourusername again, I’d be flattered if you didn’t mean the dog

charles_leclerc I ❤️ your dog

user31 if you wanna keep me, you gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta love me harder 😭

user32 all my homies hate Lewis Hamilton

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story!

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton taylorswift and 98,009,873 others

yourusername if you wanna keep me

load comments…

user33 THEYRE BACK

user34 this better stay this time

user35 love me harder caption???

user36 SO WHAT DO I DO IF I CANT FIGURE IT OUT

user35 YOUVE GOT TO TRY TRY TRY AGAIN

user37 SO WHAT DO I DO IF I CANT FIGURE IT OUT

user38 IM GONNA LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE AGAIN

lewishamilton 🖤

yourusername 🖤

user39 awwww (I think)

user40 where’s Lando

landonorris CALL ME NOW PLEASE

yourusername can’t, with my bf

landonorris since bf stands for best friend your a liar because im nowhere near you

yourusername lonely

landonorris 😠

_______

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername landonorris and 83,092,876 others

lewishamilton ive gotta love you harder

load comments…

user41 the lyrics in the caption, ok thoughtful

user42 we love a man with the ability to remember the lyrics to a song he was on

user43 SLAYINGGGGGG

landonorris boo 🍅🍅🍅

lewishamilton ???

landonorris what r ur intentions with my daughter

yourusername I'm older than you

landonorris boo 🍅🍅🍅

user44 I missed them

user45 they're so adorable

user46 🥳🥳🥳

user47 love them

user48 I know Lewis did something to cause that breakup and the re-breakup but she seems so much happier with him

yourusername love you 🖤

lewishamilton love you too 🖤

user49 PARENTSSSS

____________________

Tags: @sunny44

[workingbynyx]

Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)

of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚

(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)

Very affectionate behind closed doors

Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.

A pretty decent cook, to say the least

Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3

Midnight joyrides are the best

Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd

Getting out of bed is almost impossible

The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."

Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist

I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)

He asks for fashion advice, sometimes

Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch

This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.

Very protective over you

It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.

Acts all tough, but melts when you're around

Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.

Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse

Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Beautifully Broken (Eric Draven x Reader)

Ever since you arrived to the rehab facility you were sent to, you can’t keep your eyes off of him… 900wk, Unprotected sex, choking, dirty talk 18+MDNI Part 2

A/N: I just saw this movie an hour ago and I am absolutely possessed. Bill skårsgard is the love of my life and this just did something to my brain. You’ll probably be seeing more of him…

Ever since you arrived here there’s only been one thing on your mind, one thing keeping you going and it was him. He was so beautifully broken that you were immediately taken by him, even if you’ve never spoken to him. But you watched. You watch the way he almost always chooses silence over speaking. He never shared at circle or sat with anyone during meal time. You watched his defiance to the guards and doctors. The way he rebelled against them with a stone expression and a locked jaw, still not saying a word. You watched the way he would draw, scribbling away in his sketchbook like it was the only thing in the world to him. The way his large tattooed hands would grip onto the charcoal pencils made your thighs clench and his face was so beautiful it made your heart ache.

His sea green eyes always held a look of determination, his plush pink lips were always slightly downturned and it made you want to know what he looked like when he smiled. His jet black mullet was always slightly messy and the pink sweatsuit sat taunt against his large frame, you’re surprised they even had a size long enough to accommodate his height. He was an irresistible mystery that you wanted to pick apart and piece back together with pieces of your own broken soul. So you couldn’t watch anymore, you couldn’t wander, you had to know. You square your shoulders and march forward with purposeful steps before plopping yourself down at the table next to him.

“Hi.” You give him a soft smile and tell him your name and he just stares at you, those striking eyes roaming your face intently. That ever neutral expression gave nothing away. His eyes lock with yours and you stare at each other like you’re trying to search each other’s minds. After a moment he releases you from his hypnotizing gaze to glance around the room before looking back at you.

“They don’t really like opposite genders sitting with each other.” He rests his hands on the table, tapping the metal of his rings against the cheap glazed wood.

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” You tilt your head to the side, your eyes sparkling with mischief and your lips turned up in the most beautifully sinister smirk he’s ever seen.

“I’m Eric.” His corner of his lips raises slightly and it makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. You can’t help but wonder what his laugh sounds like.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eric.”

“Shhh, baby, you gotta be quiet for me.” Eric’s inked hand comes up to cover your mouth as he pounds into you deep and rough from behind. He has you pressed up against the wall in the back of the laundry room with your pink sweatpants pooled at your feet. Your back is arched as far as it can go, your hips meeting his own with each brutal thrust. His free hand is shoved up your sweatshirt, groping your braless tits and playing with your sensitive nipples. Eric leans down to place sloppy kisses on your neck and it has your pussy clenching around him. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm!” You moan into his palm, your drool starting to drip down his wrist. Eric moves his hand from your mouth so he can grip onto your throat instead and it has your eyes rolling back.

“I want to hear you say my name when you fall apart on my cock.” His voice is like honey when his lips ghost against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Touch yourself for me.”

“Fuck, oh my god, I’m so close.” You bring your hand between your legs and find your slick clit, the feeling of your fingertips against your sensitive bud sending you over the edge. “Fuck, Eric! I’m coming, I’m fucking coming.”

“Yeah, that’s my girl, fucking cum for me.” His grip on your throat tightens as he fucks into you mercilessly, chasing his own high. “I’m going to fill you up so deep it won’t be leaking out until we are in the yard for gym hour and you start doing jumping jacks.”

“Oh, fuuuuck. That’s- that’s so fucking hot, please please, give it to me. Give me your cum, Eric.” You reach behind you to yank on the hair at the nape of his neck and it has his hips stilling against yours while he spills inside of you.

“Fuck, that’s my good fucking girl.” Eric growls in your ear as his cock continues to twitch inside you, filling you to the brim just like he promised. He pulls out gently, holding onto you with one arm so your legs don’t give out. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs and over your sensitive pussy, gathering the cum that leaked out before pushing it back in. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste.”

He leans down and pulls up your pants and your panties before flipping you around so your back is against the wall. Eric chuckles before smiling down at you sweetly, those beautiful green eyes twinkling with adoration and it���s everything you could’ve ever dreamed. He’s so beautifully broken, and entirely yours.

Divider is by @thecutestgrotto