#I missed that little rush when you fumble for your phone to write the words down before they leave your brain

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍🏻

Tagged by @tizniz 🩵

I think next snippet I might tell you more about this wip … maybe … I’m still debating whether to keep it a secret for a bit longer 🤪.

Anyway … have some more angsty feels from my secret buddie wip

Prev snippets here and here.

The ambulance comes to a screeching halt outside the hospital and then everything happens in a bit of a blur.

Eddie is unloaded, Buck’s hand clenched around Eddie’s tightly like a lifeline as the trauma team wheel Eddie inside the glass doors.

Inevitably, Buck has to release his grip on Eddie before they take him through to surgery, but it feels like he's severing a part of himself, the pain rippling through his body and threatening to bring him to his knees.

Someone is talking to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm and breaking through his trance.

“Are you a family member?” The woman asks, her voice urgent yet still kind.

Buck nods his head, wiping at the tears on his cheeks. “Yea, yes. I'm his partner, his - his boyfriend,” he chokes out.

The woman nods in understanding and says something else before she’s hurrying off behind the doors after Eddie and the trauma team, but Buck doesn’t quite register it, the sounds around him beginning to become muffled.

Buck watches with a sense of hopelessness as Eddie disappears behind another set of doors, feeling like he's being pulled apart at the seams.

He slumps against a nearby wall, sinking down to the ground as the sobs he’s been holding in finally break free from his chest and wrack through his body.

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @smilingbuckley @kitteneddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @wellcollapse @steadfastsaturnsrings @wildlife4life @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sibylsleaves @captain-hen @devirnis @disasterbuck @fiona-fififi @diazheartsbuckley @glorious-spoon @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @lonelychicago @spagheddiediaz @queerdiazs @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @bekkachaos @buckera @rewritetheending @ladydorian05 and as always, if you have something you want to share (art, an edit, some words) -> consider this your official tag 🏷️

[hoonigiris]

— things we never said

s. jaeyun x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k genre: angst (i think) content: exes!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, aespa's ningning and winter cameos for naming purposes only. normal people inspired. misc. notes: thank you to the jake fuckers (@gluion @mosviqu) for being my motivation to 1) write this drabble and more importantly 2) Finish this drabble. kept you in my thoughts when i wrote this xoxo. also a specific thank you to @sungbeam for being the first person to read it in full. and lastly, a special thank you to paul mescal for being just the perfect amount of pathetic i needed in bbc's miniseries normal people.

synopsis: in which it's heeseung's wedding, jake's had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say.

jake’s shoes squeeze too tight around his toes.

realistically, through the haze of the alcohol, he knows he should be worried about other things. maybe any other thing, like how he needs to figure out how to get this champagne stain out of his shirt before his company dinner on friday, or how the bass of the dj's last set is still ringing in his ears, or how he's pretty sure this little escapade would probably qualify as date-ditching, considering the way yizhuo has been texting him 'where r u??' for the past twenty minutes.

jake's head buzzes, the aftertaste of his last beer resting firm on his tongue. in retrospect, perhaps the fourth glass he filled right before they cut the cake was one too many, but it’s too late to regret it now. the glass is sitting empty on the table, and instead of being out on the dance floor with the rest of his friends, jake is here—under the gazebo, heart in throat, phone in hand. his thumb hovers over the contact, still saved, and stares for a long time.

he shouldn’t. he knows he shouldn’t.

(not that it really matters. knowing better and doing better are two things jake has never been very good at keeping the same.)

he hits call.

the dial rings and rings and rings. jake can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, he just keeps listening to the endless tinny trilling. and then— 

“hello?”

“hi.” his voice catches. “it’s me.”

you pause, the silence crackling over the speaker. “what’s up?”

jake’s throat goes tight, tongue heavy as he tries to fumble his way around his words. your voice is just like he remembers, intimately close even from the speaker. he wonders what he can say, to make up for the months of not speaking to each other. how are you? how’s work? do you still set 5 alarms in the morning before you have to wake up so you can enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep?

“it’s heeseung’s wedding today,” he says eventually. you didn’t show up.

there’s a beat of silence, before:

“i know,” you reply gently, the silent accusation he doesn’t mean to throw landing softly between the two of you. “i already called him this morning to say congratulations. there’s a wedding gift that should be shipped soon, actually,” you continue, as if it makes your absence any better. “i think he’ll like it, you know. he’s been talking about getting that coffee grinder on his wedding registry before that registry even existed—”

“y/n.”

the line goes completely quiet, like you’re bracing yourself for what he could say next. normally he would leave it be, set down the phone and apologize and go back to the venue to celebrate with the rest of his friends. but right now, jake is drunk, and his head hurts, and all the sounds ring around him and merge together into a single sound, pressed tight against his ear. his chest feels rubbed raw, the burning question flickering and coming out all in a rush. “did you not come because of me?”

“jake,” you chide, almost immediately. he missed the way you say his name, even like this. “you know that’s not it.”

he laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, feeling scolded. just like old times. “isn’t it?”

there’s a disapproving noise on the other end, like you take offense in him even having doubts. “you know i wish i could have been there.”

jake hesitates, just a little. it’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to say, but he supposes he should keep the streak going, since he’s already started tonight. “you could still come.” 

you let out a small laugh, entertaining the thought. “yeah?”

jake nods, as if you can hear it. maybe you can. maybe you didn’t have to, to know. “yeah, the night is still young. i’m sure everyone would be happy to see you again—you could come right now, if you really wanted to.”

“and do what, exactly?” you tease.

he shrugs, smiling. “give a belated toast? we all gave one, you know.”

“oh, and heeseung agreed to that?”

“as if he could stop us,” jake counters. “we had to make sure the bride knew what she was marrying! one embarrassing story from each of us!”

“and pray tell,” you say, bemused, “what story did you share with the audience? no wait—let me guess.” you hum, as if tapping your chin for the exaggerated effect. “the time he tried to flirt with that senior in the library and fell on his ass because he missed the chair? or the time when—oh! what about when he got drunk and wanted to get matching tattoos with everyone and then started crying the second it started cause it hurt so bad?”

“no, actually,” jake laughs. “sunghoon and jay already took those. mine was about when he accidentally hit on riki’s mom the entire night and found out the morning after.”

“you better have turned those stories into anecdotes about how happy their marriage is going to be,” you warn wryly.

jake waves you off. “sunoo and jungwon got the sentimental part. we were in charge of making sure minjeong knew what she was getting herself into.”

you sigh exasperatedly, something rustling on your end. maybe the papers you were reorganizing on your desk, or the tinfoil on the table as you tried to heat up a late night snack. “so much for adulthood—all you boys are the same.”

the same. as if he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so, so far away.

“you could still come.” jake repeats. it’s a sobering effect. at least, he’d like to think so, but he’s still trying his hardest for his tongue to not stumble over some words, and he can’t look at the fairy lights adorning the top of the gazebo for too long before his head starts to pound again. 

“you could tell your favorite memory of heeseung to make up for ours,” he continues, “write down your congratulations on the wedding book yourself. they’re even playing your favorite song right now, you could come and show everyone how it’s done.” jake fumbles with the ring on his index finger, twisting it with his thumb. the heel of his shoe scuffs once into the wood below his feet. it’s all too tight. “come—have fun. we could even pretend not to know each other.”

the line goes quiet. a breath drawn. and then, softly, “i would never pretend to not know you, jake.”

he blinks, swallowing hard. it would be funny, if it weren’t so sad, the way jake was the one who called you, yet he’s the one without anything to say. rather, the things he wants to say, he can’t. you would have cried at the vows, he thinks. the exchanging of promises at the altar, rings slipped onto each other’s fingers. you were always soft for those kinds of things. 

(everyone looked at heeseung and minjeong when they said their vows. the words creep up his throat; he pushes them back down. i thought of you instead.)

jake is sure everyone knows, to some degree, at least. it’s why heeseung looked at him a little strange when he saw his date at the entrance, why everyone seemed to avoid mentioning your name like the plague around him. it’s not for lack of trying—moving past you. it’s why he brought yizhuo along in the first place, why he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself, why he’s been trying his best to not think of you again.

but tonight was different. tonight, where all his friends are gathered to celebrate, and the alcohol in his system warms his skin as the evening air grows chilly, and everyone he loves is here within reach except for you, jake finds that he’s still admitting it to himself, even months after.

(i miss you. more words he can’t say to you anymore. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.)

“sorry,” he says eventually. jake isn’t really sure what for. maybe all of it.

“i…” you start out, but it trails off into silence. maybe it would have been an apology to match, but he thinks you knew it wouldn’t have sounded right either. there wasn’t really anything left to say. jake is here, and you’re there, and that distance isn’t really something either of you can fill anymore.

across the garden, jake can hear his name echoing across the venue. he’s pretty sure it’s sunoo, telling him to get his ass on the dance floor to get down to the dj’s newest rendition of apple bottom jeans, but it all sort of meshes together between the bushes and the trees.

“you should go,” you say lightly. “dance off the rest of the alcohol so you don’t wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow.”

you knew. jake burns a little out of embarrassment, feeling a bit like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that you could tell he was drunk from the beginning, or the fact that this meant you knew the first person he thought to drunk-dial was you.

“oh, don’t act surprised.” it’s a light-hearted jibe, but jake’s heart crawls up his throat and sits there, thick. “your pronunciation always gets sloppy when you’ve had too many drinks.”

of course you knew. you always did, like he never needed to say anything at all.

“you got me,” he responds, hoarse.

“what did you get this time? whiskey? margaritas? no way you got this drunk off hard seltzers—”

“beer.” sunoo calls his name again, closer, more insistent. “one too many.”

you laugh, and he wants to drown in it a little more, until he remembers it enough to not miss you anymore. “the great jake sim, taken down by an IPA.”

maybe he should thank it, if it got you to speak to him again. the skin sitting underneath his ring burns red. he needs to take off his tie. his shoes are still too tight around his toes. “i wish you were here.” maybe there were some things he needed to say, after all.

you smile, fond. he can’t see it, but there are some things about you he just knows, too. “bye, jake.”

but in the end, this is all there is to it: a him, and a you, and two versions of each other that you both can’t come back to. not anymore.

and that’s something that never needs to be said.

jake looks at the center of the altar, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of something else—the afterimage of love, a vision of two people left stranded from time. it disappears as quickly as it came. his breath hitches. there’s nothing left but this.

“bye, y/n.”

[purinfelix]

back home ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing: joão félix x reader (established relationship) summary: after a solo trip away, you're a little worried about how your boyfriend might react to your return warnings: none, angst if you squint hard enough maybe? w/c: 770

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVEE im sorry for being so ia akjdnsa no excuse i'm just lazy ... but in the mean time i did go on a trip with some friends (which is what inspired me to write this lol) and went to my first in person football match !!! anw hope yall take this as my apology for being so inactive <3333

“It’s only two weeks.” 

That’s what you told your boyfriend months before you had begun planning your solo trip, knowing he was the type to fret over you and whether you were organised enough. You continued repeating this phrase to him leading up to your departure - you had mumbled it into his hair, whispered it into his ear, and even shouted it across rooms when he raised his protests. Whenever he would think a little too hard about how long it would feel for two people who never seemed to spend more than a couple of hours apart. Even so, you appreciated his worrying over you, taking it as a sign of him caring for you. 

But now, two weeks later, as you fidgeted nervously in the backseat of the taxi he had called for you to take home from the airport you found yourself repeating the phrase again, only now to yourself. It felt as though the moment you two had separated, all of Joao’s worrying had found a new home within you, and you had already begun counting down until your reunion. This was only made worse by the fact that it seemed your boyfriend was growing more and more comfortable in his solitude - and ultimately, your absence. It worried you to see this, as much as you could through the frame of your phone screen during each of your nightly facetimes. 

Even now as you stood fumbling with the keys to your shared apartment, you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying. What if he had come to enjoy his ‘alone time’, and took it as a sign to distance himself? What if this distancing led to him spending time away from you, or even worse - a breakup? As your mind wandered to the worst-case scenario, you pushed open the door with trembling hands. 

A tuft of brown hair peeking out from above the couch cushions let you know your boyfriend was home. Your many bags slipped off your arms and fell to a heap on the floor with a soft thump, the sound alerting Joao. 

You braced yourself, ready for a scowling expression or even one that was completely vacant. Ready for him to scoff, stand up and walk out of the room, disinterested at your return. Or for him to begin telling you about how he had already begun moving out, and how maybe this time apart had done you both some good. 

“Oh, thank god.” 

His voice was soft, fragile almost, as it broke the silence between you two, followed shortly by the padding of his feet as he rushed over to you. His body crashed into yours, sheer force sending you a couple of steps backwards and any worries that plagued your mind far, far away. If it wasn’t for how tightly he was holding you, hands digging into your shoulders, you were sure you would’ve fallen over. 

You struggled to muster up more worrying thoughts, overwhelmed by the warmth of his body pressed up against yours, the feeling of his embrace. You let out a deep sigh, not of fatigue or frustration but pure relief, feeling yourself melt into his touch. 

“I missed you,” he muttered, face pressed into your hair as if he was afraid letting you go might cause another two weeks apart. 

“I missed you too,” you heard yourself admit, words muffled against his chest. But he still understood you, which he made clear by squeezing you even tighter. 

It felt like forever before you broke apart, but still not enough as Joao continued to press gentle kisses to your temple, lingering with each one as if trying to show you just how much he had missed you. Finally, he brushed past you to shut the door and pick your several bags off the floor - bags which had required much effort for you to haul around but he managed to pick up with much ease. 

“Welcome home,” you can hear the smile in his voice, even though he’s faced away from you as he begins to walk to your shared bedroom. You watch him disappear around a corner, and he begins telling you about how his plans to surprise you at the airport with a bunch of flowers were ruined by training running overtime. You’re still in the doorway, a little dizzy - from jetlag, from a lack of sleep and proper food, from how hard he squeezed you in that hug. Even so, you feel a smile tug at your own lips because even though it was ‘only’ two weeks, you couldn’t be more glad to be back home. 

[the-kr8tor]

Okay I had a fic idea and rushed to tumblr to see if your requests were open I'm lowkey shaking rn.

Anyway can we imagine hobie and reader who are friends but secretly having feelings for each other, and one night reader gets a little too drunk at a party and sends a confession text to hobie ?! And the way he would come to pick her up right after this and confess in return AAAAAAAKFODJODNXODBF do you think you could write something about it ? No one can write Hobie fics like you 💕❤️

Hi hi I combined both of your requests bc they were similar hope you don't mind. Changed it up a bit but it's basically the same! Thank you for requesting!! 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW alcohol, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Getting wine drunk is a bad idea, getting wine drunk alone is an even worse idea. Your vision swirls whilst you watch the most mind numbing reality tv there is. Mind hazy, the smell of stale popcorn filtering in the air, blanket comfortably on your legs. You look at your phone right next to you like it owes you money.

With a narrowed glance, the screen blinks open like you commanded it in your mind. You don't miss how you quickly take it in your wobbly hands despite the alcohol warming your insides. Huffing, you're immensely disappointed to see a notification from one of the games you play to pass the time.

‘Your castle is under attack!’ it says in bold letters, and you wish it was him texting you instead. Your wallpaper doesn't help much with your pining, the picture’s a bit blurry but even the blurriness can't hide how deeply in love you are with your best friend. You remember when the photo was taken, and you remember how fast your heart was beating in your ribcage when Hobie yanked you towards him. Sweat still clinging to him from his energetic performance, adrenaline still flowing in his veins as he squeezes his face close to yours. He gives the camera his signature smirk, whilst you could only manage a lopsided smile. Eyes shimmering under the spotlights, arms bravely wrapped around his middle.

You still can't believe you fumbled that day, you thought you had your confession in the bag, but when he stared at you with those brown eyes you loved so much since year eight, the words got stuck in your throat. With alcohol in your system, flooding your nerves with courage, you open your phone to finally tell him your feelings.

> Heyyy boo thang <3

You giggle whilst you hover your thumb at the send button. Backtracking and drunk off cheap wine, you add more to your message.

> Heyyy boo thang <3 just messaging u how ur doing and also I love u so much like a lot ever somce you held my hand during pe when that ball hit my face I loveee u and not just a friend muah <3

Eyes scanning the message, a sudden realization hits you like a truck, as if sobering you immediately. The thought of sending a love confession to *your best friend has you sitting up right on the settee, moreso via text message. But before you could erase it and forget about it, a sudden scream startles you, jolting, the sound making you drop your phone on the carpet.

“Shit!” You glare at the fallen phone then at the telly where the reality stars are now pulling each other's hair like they're in the playground.

With an annoyed click of your tongue, you take your phone from the ground to check the damage. Sighing in relief, you see no cracks in the screen, but your heart falls on the floor once you see that your drunken message has been sent. “No! Motherfucker—!”

Hobie’s head is pounding from the combined powers of the pints he chugged and the loud music banging on stage. The old leather seats of the booth scratch at his jeans, the smoky and musty air entering his lungs, and the warm lights shining in his blurring vision. He usually doesn't mind it, he thrives in the environment. But his band mates basically dragged him into the pub when he was supposed to be hanging out with you tonight.

“Mates before chicks!” James said, earning a loud slap from Yuri a second later. “You hang around her too much, we miss our guitarist.” Ned mumbles with his puppy dog eyes that Hobie never thought would actually work on him. “Just one round with us! And you can come back home to your girl.” Riri added with a teasing grin. Hobie didn't even correct her at this point, and he knows it’s not just for one round.

After sending you a heartfelt message using Ned's phone, he rescheduled the weekly hangout where you and Hobie would watch the crappiest show you could find airing on cable, and whoever leaves the couch first owes the winner dinner. To which Hobie always sees as a win/win, he gets to hangout with you more, and he gets to see you smile when he purposely loses. Hobie invited you to the pub, even though he knows you'd reject his proposal, simply because he knows you hate the place, and how the carpet sticks to your shoes.

He knows you more than he knows himself.

It's hard enough to find the time to see you with all his responsibilities. He hates it when he could only settle with a quick phone call every night to check in on eachother. Especially when just a few years ago you were hanging out with him almost everyday.

He never thought he'd miss you this much when he agreed.

Hobie loves his friends, he really does, but you just have a very special place in his heart that he wishes he was in yours too.

Nursing a pint, he drowns his feelings with the amber drink and loud chatter with his band mates. Riri grumbles something about her landlord, while Yuri replies back with a ‘mine’s always open for subletting,’ she says in a singing tone. A minute later, the entire table looks at him with similar glints in their eyes.

“What?” He asks a little too roughly.

“You should get your own phone, mate, because I don't want to see your bloody messages.” Ned scoffs, his phone in hand. “Seriously, this one is sweet and all but this could take a turn real fucking quick, and I don't want to see that shit.”

“What the fuck are you talkin' ‘bout?” Hobie doesn't think he's that drunk yet, even though he doesn't notice how his words slur together, or how his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.

Riri and Yuri giggle amongst themselves, while James takes a peek at Ned's phone before making a dramatic shocked face.

His nerves shoot up when James mouths your name. Are you hurt? Are you mad at him? “Y/N, texted? What’d she say?” Hobie tries to snatch the phone from Ned, to which his friend pulls it away from him playfully.

“Oh I'm gonna need some popcorn.” Yuri snickers.

Ned, being equally drunk, clears his throat dramatically while leaning away from Hobie, who is too drunk to even win against James who's currently holding him back. James laughs like a hyena in Hobie's ear, while Riri takes a picture of the chaos.

“Hey! Boo thang! Heart emoji.” Ned reads unabashedly, the girls laugh louder at Hobie's expense. “Just messaging you how you're doing, and also I love you so much!” Ned tries to copy your voice, “Like a lot—!” Hobie has had enough, cheeks hot (not from the alcohol) he uses his spider strength to push past James, then grabbing the phone so quickly that not even the owner processed what happened until he sees it in Hobie's hand. “You're no fun, mate.”

“Has anyone ever told you not to read someone else's messages?” Hobie hides the screen on his chest.

“It's my fucking phone!” Ned gestures wildly.

Hobie glares at his bassist, he peeks down at the bright screen, your name up top and caller ID smiling at him. He can't help but smile back.

He might be drunk, but he's not drunk enough to hallucinate you confessing your love to him. Via Ned's phone nonetheless.

He feels bodies crowd around him, Yuri's chin is pressed on his left shoulder while Ned on his right. Riri pushes James away to get a closer look at the screen while James settles to loom over everyone like some muscle-bound shield.

“What the fuck are you lot doin’?” Hobie asks, hands gripping the phone like it's about to be snatched from him.

“We're dying from anticipation here, bruv.” James says above everyone.

“‘Anticipation’, that's a big word, James.”

“Eat a bag of dicks, Yuri.”

“You first—”

“Would you all shut up?” Hobie hisses, eyes glued to the tiny dots at the bottom, indicating that you're currently typing.

“She's typing.” Riri whispers.

“We can all see that, Riri.” Ned whispers back.

Hobie shushes them both when the three dots disappear without a new message. His heart hammers at his chest, he feels like he's back in high school, way back when you could just smile at him and his day will be made better.

“Just tell her, mate.” Ned says a lot softer than Hobie thought he was capable. “We all know you love her, just bloody tell her because I'm gonna need my phone back to call a cab real fucking soon.” And he ruined it.

“D’you have a curfew, Neddy?” James asks teasingly, earning a scowl from Ned.

Ned rolls his eyes. “I'm just saying, she might appreciate it if you actually reply to it.”

“I think she's drunk.” Riri pipes up, everyone looks at her. She roams her eyes towards each of their faces. Rolling her eyes she points at the message. “Look, there's so many mistakes there and I've texted with Y/N before, she doesn't text like that.”

“What's wrong with texting with spelling mistakes? I do that.” James smiles.

“Because it's just you, you ding dong.” Yuri teases, and James fakes a deep frown.

“Being drunk doesn't mean she didn't mean the text. The alcohol might've just helped her send it.” Ned reassures Hobie.

“I did it.” Hobie half exclaims, bleary eyes repeatedly reading his text. I fucking did it, shit! He thinks to himself. Hobie's suddenly incredibly sweaty.

“Oh shit! That's my guy!” Ned punches Hobie's bicep. The rest look at him with bewilderment.

“What did you even say?” Riri scooches closer to read.

> I love you too I might be drunk right now but I wasn't when I first realized it I have loved you since you gave me hot chocolate when I was freezing my ass off trying to win that stupid selling contest

“Holy fuck.” Yuri pats Hobie's cheek. “Can't believe you're capable of being sweet.”

“Shit, bruv,” James sniffs, his tears falling on the screen. “that shit is awe inspiring— don't even start, Yuri”

“Wasn't gonna,” she shrugs.

Ned pokes Hobie's side when he realizes his friend hasn't moved an inch from his position. “You okay, Hobs?”

Hobie inhales shakily, a smile slowly spreading across his lips once your message pops up. He swears that fireworks suddenly lit up inside him.

“Oh my god—” Riri tears up, but before the rest of the band reads the message, Hobie jumps out of his seat, even forgetting his own jacket in the process.

“Hobie—shit! Wait!” Ned tries to call him back, but Hobie's already out of the pub, sprinting fast. “My fucking phone.” He could only scratch his head.

The wind nips at his bare arms, lungs heaving whilst he runs at full speed. He should've brought his web shooters with him, but he unfortunately left it in his jacket pockets. If he had them he'd be swinging to your place so he could get to you faster.

Hobie's glad that it's late, or else he'll be dodging people left and right. Boots thumping loudly across the pavement, hand gripping Ned's phone, getting closer to your familiar street, he curves around the corner, almost bumping into you.

He stops your momentum with his arms. He feels his own jacket against his arms, you wear his hoodie well. Your chest heaves, grin slowly appearing on your wind whipped lips.

“Hobie?” You ask and everything clicks together in his mind.

All the tentative touches you two shared, all the hugs that lingered a few seconds longer, all the times that you looked at him like he fished the moon out for you. And all the times he looked at you like you're made out of stars. It all comes together in that dusty street corner where you both have crossed a thousand times before.

“Looks like we had the same idea.” Hobie softly says, clammy hands sliding down to your own sweaty palms. He doesn't mind, it's you, so he would never mind it.

“I guess you read my message.” You hold him close, hands squeezing at his hands that you've mapped out in your mind.

He chuckles, sliding his hand out from yours to show you the screen. “‘Say it to me in person and I'll say it back,’ doesn't give me much leeway, love.” The streetlight above perfectly aligns above you, giving you both a spotlight.

You mirror his smitten smile. “What are you waiting for then?”

Hobie pockets the phone, then he holds your face gently, eyes staring at you like he always has. “I love you.”

You pull him closer by his collar. “I love you too, Hobie Brown.”

“Since when?” He rags you on.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Ever since I got hit in the face with a basketball and you deflated it with your spiked bracelet and then called the jock who threw it a wanker.” He smiles wider at every word you utter. Leaning closer, he smells the wine on your lips. “The hot cocoa, really? That—” you fight the tears from flowing. “That was years before we became best friends.”

“And I've continued to love you since then, and will love you as long as you let me.” Hobie presses his forehead atop yours, a kiss would suffice better, but for now, he'll settle for this.

You know him better than you know yourself. “Save me a kiss once we're both sober?”

“They're all reserved for you, love.”

[ser-rctslcyer]

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN! Reader  Word Count: 1.1k Synopsis: It’s snowing and as usual Steven somehow ends up covered in it. However, this time he doesn’t have to deal with it alone.  Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love A/N: I’ve deeply missed writing about this show so here we go!

Snow poured softly down from the dark sky, piling up on the fluffy layer stuck to the ground. 

From the window you could see people rushing, trying to return home to their warm beds and hot food. You were glad to have left at your normal time, making it home before the weather had begun to get worse. Though you had worried for when your partners would get home as it was getting later and later; you wished his boss would’ve let him off early like he asked. 

After putting your stuff up and switching out of your day clothes; you fixed yourself some dinner as you turned the TV. on. Eyes stuck on the screen in front of you as your ears waited for the familiar sound of the door. The later it got, the more tempted to pick up your phone when the lock clicked. 

“Gods, it's fucking cold,” Steven whined; the shuts with an echoing force. You set your empty bowl down quickly, and you skyrocket out of your chair to embrace your partner.

“Hey Steven,” you pause your greeting; catching the upset look on his face and the silky white bits that covered his hair and shoulders. “Oh, what happened to you?”

“I was about to walk into the building, but of course, I was fumbling to get keys and didn’t notice how low the snow was dripping,” he grumbled, tugging at the remaining bits of snow from his hair and the scarf Layla had made them.  

“By the time I opened it, I already caught a bucket’s worth of snow,” he pouted, rubbing his hands together; desperate to generate any heat from them. 

“Aw, I’m sorry hon.,” you walked closer, clasping your hands around his to help warm them up.

“I was doing so well too,” his frown grew a little larger; his tired eyes looked more and more miserable. 

“I know, it happens to the best of us, sweetheart. Mother nature can be quite a fierce one.”

“I wish she wouldn’t.”

“Y’know, you kind of look like a little snow fairy, if that helps,” you add; earning a small snort for Steven. 

“I don't like being a snow fairy if it’s like this,” he answered, a little less gloomy than before. 

“C’mon, you guys practically dress like one to fight crime,” you jab, earning a hearty chuckle from him. 

“Marc says it’s not our choice,” he gently squeezes your hands.

“So then he agrees?” you raise you eyebrow and he shakes his head/

“He argues more like a ‘snow devil’ to our enemies.”

“Probably, but to me, you guys are my snow fairies,” you tease again, happy to see a genuine smile on his face. He only hums in response, swaying a small bit, a little flustered by the nickname. You take this moment to pull him closer, hugging him for the first time since he’s been home. Steven is quick to reciprocate, hugging you tight as you both stand there for a second. 

“Would you like a nice warm shower to feel better? I’ll make sure it stays warm in here so you don’t freeze to death for a second time,” you suggested, rubbing the lower middle part of his back soothingly. 

“Thank you, love,” he steals a cold kiss before properly putting away his bag and hanging his jacket. You take the time to turn up the heat, grabbing one of the few fluffy towels, and setting it in the bathroom. While there, you turned on the hot water, letting it heat to the temperature it was supposed to be. 

“All yours,” you move, to shift past him but he cups your face and kisses you. His lips are warmer than they were before 

“Thank you, again,” his eyes beam as Steven gives his signature goofy grin, before slinking into the bathroom. 

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering as you set yourself on the bed; a delighted grin on your face. The shower turns on and you can hear albeit very muffled the sigh of relief that leaves Steven. He sings a little cheer, at which you giggle before he continues the rest of his shower. The bed feels even softer than ever during this season, and you waste no time getting under the covers to finish off the rest of your wait. 

“Alright, I’m all set,” he glowed, much happier being able to feel fingers and the warmth from his clothes. 

“Hurry up and get under here before I take all the covers,” you jokingly tug them over your shoulders; watching Steven scramble to get into bed with you. He grabbed the covers and you let him take some of them until you were both comfortable enough. Steven reached over to the nightstand to grab his book, the one he’s been studying up on since the beginning of this week. You dropped your head to his shoulder so you could read as well, even though you’ve only picked up on parts he’s read to you. 

“Come closer,” Steven lifted up his arm, his hand beckoning you closer. You obliged him, of course, tucking yourself underneath his arm, and his hand resting on your hip.

“This better?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, kissing the top of your head. “So, much better than the cold,” he hummed as you grinned at him. 

“Glad I could help, sweetheart,” you kissed the underside of his jaw, catching his quiet sigh as he turned the page. 

As much as you wanted to enjoy the read with him, your body began to settle. The fight to keep your eyes open was useless, as they shut after the third long blink. The heat from him engulfed you; the darkness felt like a soft blanket, keeping you content and safe. The normal hum of the a.c. blurred into the background as you found yourself drifting away until you felt a small nudge. 

“Sleepy?” his voice was soft, enough so that if you had been any closer to sleep you probably wouldn’t have heard him. 

“You’re warm,” you mumbled surly, with your eyes still closed, “feels nice.” He chuckles, gently rubbing your shoulder before placing his book on top of the nightstand. He pulls you closer as he lays down fully, letting you rest on top of him. Tender hands rub your back, fingers sweetly tracing, luring you to sleep. His soothing was the added cherry on top, as you yawned, finally giving into the night. 

“Goodnight, snow fairy,” you manage to mumble out, as your mind floats away; your thoughts fading into the delicate embrace. Steven quietly beams at the name, delicately sketching a little heart over your back and rubbing over that area until you were fast asleep. 

“Goodnight, my love,” he grins, kissing the top of your head, closing his eyes, and dreaming of you both in the fluffy white snow.

[tom-whore-dleston]

My Only Angel

Pairing ▹ boss!Harry Styles x f. reader

Genre ▹ smut

This fic contains ▹ boss x employee relationship, daddy kink, praise kink, office sex, dry humping, finger sucking, mention of blowjob, scratching, hickies, Harry gets cockblocked

Word Count ▹ 1.1k

Summary ▹ pt. 2 of Not a Typical Boss

Notes ▹ Here is my very late submission for @the-slumberparty's Blast from the Past (week 2) challenge. I missed writing for Harry and I had fun revisiting one of my earlier fics ♡ Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed!

After spending the three-day weekend with Harry, you had some bounce to your step upon arriving at work. Your coworkers stared at you in bewilderment, unable to recognize this uber happy version of you. Memories of your time at Harry’s place filled your head as you typed away at your computer. 

All of a sudden, your desk phone began to blare that annoying ringtone. You sighed, picking up the phone and bringing it to your ear. 

“Yes?” 

The sound of the secretary’s voice echoed through the other side of the phone. “Mr.--I mean Harry–would like to see you in his office immediately.”

“Got it. Thanks, Kandice.” As you hung up, you bit back a giddy smile, thinking of seeing Harry again. Never mind the fact that you showed up to work from his house. You smoothed out your dress and reapplied your lipstick before stepping out of your office. 

Harry’s door was wide open once you reached his office space. His feet were propped on his desk and he mindlessly twirled a pen in his hand. He must have sensed you since he whipped his head around, a devilish smile plastered on his gorgeous face. His eyebrows motioned towards the door, and you shut and locked it behind you. 

You wasted no time in rushing towards him, climbing onto his lap with each leg locked by his hips. Muffled giggles left your mouths as you held each other on his rotating chair. His lips attached to your face, leaving gentle kisses all over.

“Miss me already?” You teased, as Harry kissed down your neck. He smirked against your skin coated in concealer. Your boss gave you no mercy this weekend when he littered your body with hickies. This morning, you desperately applied makeup over the hard-to-cover parts of your body. All of that work went to waste as Harry swiped his lips over the concealer, revealing bits of the bruises.

“Can you blame me, darling?” He mumbled, his fingertips tracing over your marks before landing underneath your chin. “Besides, I need a little stress relief before my meeting.” 

Then, he pulled you towards him to kiss you passionately. You both smiled and hummed into the kiss, deja vu kicking in as your lips danced along one anothers. Your core instantly grew wet and you subconsciously rutted your hips against his. Harry moaned into your mouth, allowing you to slip your tongue past his lips. He lifted your tight dress up to your waist, revealing your bare thighs and p to him. 

“Good girl, you remembered my rules.”

“I just want to be good for you, daddy.”

“Oh, I do love the sound of that.” His ring covered hand lightly wrapped around your neck, pulling you into another heated kiss. Your rosy lipstick smeared around his face, but he could care less. All that mattered to him was how much he could relish his fill of you before his meeting.

While his hand caressed your neck, you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest which was also covered in your love bites. With your lips still on his, you raked your nails  down to his abdomen, creating red scratches over his tatted form. You had experimented this tactic with him in bed, and the reactions you pulled from him would be ingrained in your mind for eternity.

“Fuck, baby girl!” A growl erupted from his throat before firmly grasping your hips, guiding them over his clothed cock. You whimpered louder than you wanted, earning a hard smack on your ass. 

“Quiet, baby. Did you forget we’re not at home?” You pouted at him, which he quickly learned was your way of apologizing for being disobedient. Harry stroked your face before shoving his thumb into your mouth. 

“Can you be a good girl and suck my thumb?” He muttered seductively, causing your pussy to throb. You nodded, only to be met with another spank, the sting biting a little harder than the last one.

“Try again, but with your words, baby.”

You murmured with his thumb still in your mouth. “Yes, daddy, I can be good for you.”

Harry smiled before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Much better. Go ahead and keep grinding that little pussy on me.” You rolled your hips over him, feeling him harden underneath you. He wrapped his free arm around your torso, closing the space between you and him. This allowed you to grind harder on him and suck his thumb with more need. His cyaneous eyes fixated on your pink lips the same way he’d watch you sucking his cock.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good!” Harry groaned in a hushed voice. This motivated you to go faster, in hopes to reach that sweet release. The pleasure began to fill your lower belly as your wetness coated Harry’s slacks. 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. He yanked his thumb out of your mouth before gripping your ass and controlling your movements over his lap. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans into his collar bone.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum like that, daddy!” You cried into his skin. 

“Yeah, baby girl? You gonna cum for daddy?” He chuckled lowly. “You like being my little fuck doll?”

“Yes, I love it, daddy!” The desperation cracked in your voice as your clit rubbed over his length. “Please, make me cum, please!”

Harry didn’t need to say anything before he started rocking into you while still working you on top of him. Breathy grunts fell from his mouth as his abs tightened with pleasure. His fingers  dug into your hips as you slammed against each other repetitively. Before either of you could hit your high, the same ringtone that tipped you off cloud nine earlier filled the room.

“Fuckin hell!” Harry cursed under his breath, throwing his head back. He flashed you an remorseful look and you reassured him with a peck on his lips. Your boss quickly gained his composure back before answering the call. 

“How can I help you, Kandice?” You could hear the woman’s sing-song voice, reminding Harry of his meeting that will start in ten minutes. He thanked her before setting the phone down. Somberness dawned over his face for a slight second until he peered into your eyes, making him more at ease.

“Looks like we’ll have to pick up where we left off on our lunch break.” You nodded enthusiastically, and helped him look presentable for his meeting. Glancing up and down his tall frame, your heart fluttered and heat rushed to your cheeks. How did you get so lucky in stealing your boss’ heart?

“Thank you for helping me destress and clean up, darling.”

“Anything for you, daddy.” You shared one last kiss before watching him walk out of his office.

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[cowboybarzy]

Can you write something where Mat and his girlfriend get pregnant and it’s not bad but it’s super unexpected and they are very surprised and unsure about everything when it comes to a baby?

unexpected - mat barzal

thank you sm for the request!! loved thinking & writing about this!! sorry for the delay, this has been written for a long time I just delayed posting this lol

word count: 1.5k

PART 2 OUT NOW PART 2.1 PART THREE

Pregnant. Not one, not two, but four tests confirmed it. Crap.

Tears escaped your eyes, the anxiety eating at you until you ended up crying on the bathroom floor. You were not ready for a baby at all. You loved your boyfriend a lot and had just moved in with after two years together, but both of you were still young and your careers were just really taking off. You had finally gotten your masters and years of hard work and landed a good job and Mat had just signed an amazing deal with the Islanders that would put his career on another level. Throwing a baby into the mix, when you were both so busy already, was not ideal. However, picturing Mat with a little baby in his arms made your heart melt.

After you calmed down and processed the information with a clear mind, you had a couple of hours before Mat would be coming home from a road trip. No matter how many times you played out telling him the news, you got more and more anxious. Mat was a sensitive person and you knew he wouldn't get angry or leave you, but this was huge news at the wrong time.

"Babe? I'm home!," Mats voice rang through the apartment. You hadn't heard him come in or even checked your phone where he'd let you know he was on his way. You smiled softly at him from the couch you were sitting on when he stepped into the living room. He sported a big smile on his face and held a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. "How are you?"

You stood up to hug him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He was only gone for a few days, but you'd missed him terribly, especially now with you being unexpectedly pregnant, you really needed that hug. You pulled back to kiss him and thank him for the flowers.

"Maty? I need to talk to you." You suddenly got serious, sitting back down, not being able to keep this news bottled up inside you any longer.

"What's wrong?," he asked with concern in his voice when he heard how chocked up you got. With a deep breath and nervously fumbling with your hands, you just blurted it out: "I'm pregnant."

You looked up at him and saw his face go blank. He stared at you for a few seconds before sitting down next to you. "Wha- I- How?"

"I don't know," you whispered. "I guess when I was sick a couple of weeks ago I missed a day or the meds messed with it, I don't know."

"Fuck." He slid his hands through his hair. After a long nervous pause, he broke the silence again. "What do we do?"

"I don't know." You exchanged a glance. "I mean it's not like we're in a bad place right now, but it's not how I pictured us having a family."

"So you wanna keep it?"

"I don't know," you answered. "I think so."

He nodded, buried his face in his hands and then finally got up. "Ok. I- I need to process this." Then he turned around and left. You broke down crying the second you heard the apartment door slam shut. You knew he wouldn't be thrilled, but you didn't think he'd leave you.

But not even a minute after you heard the door slam, Mat came rushing back and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm sorry," he whispered against your head. "That was such a dick move. I'm sorry."

You cried more, clinging to his body for comfort. "Please don't leave me again. I'm scared. I don't know how to do this."

"Fuck, me too. I'm sorry, I panicked. But I won't leave you again. I promise," he mumbled and kissed the top your head. "We'll figure it out, eh?"

You nodded, staying silent, kind of just processing the fact that you were going to be parents.

***

Over the next couple of weeks things were definitely a little bit awkward in your relationship. You didn't really know how to act around each other, still adjusting to the enormous news you got. But you shared small gestures, glances, and kisses to reassure each other you were in this together and that you wouldn't leave the other.

Today, you had your first doctor's appointment, and you were definitely nervous. But the idea of having a little Mat walk around definitely grew on you and as scared as you were, you couldn't wait to see the little baby.

And you were glad Mat got to be there as well, holding your hand and asking the doctor just as many questions as you, if not more. "So it's ok to have sex?"

You turned red when he asked that question, but the doctor just chuckled. "Yes, that's perfectly safe."

"And there's some foods she can't eat, right?"

"Yes, I'll give you some brochures that will outline what's not recommended and if you still have questions you can always call and ask. Want to see the baby now?"

She got everything set up and walked you through whatever was showing on the monitor. You were shaking, anxious but excited at the same time. When you finally heard the heartbeat, your heart burst. But it wasn't until you looked over to your boyfriend and saw the huge smile on his face that you started to tear up. You squeezed his hand and his eyes wandered to you. You shared a meaning look, before looking back at the screen, watching the baby.

"Looks like you're about 9 weeks along. The heartbeat is strong, everything looks good." The doctor ran some more tests and took some pictures, before giving you a couple of minutes.

As soon as the door closed, Mat leaned over and kissed you. Surprised by his abruptness, it took you a couple of seconds to adjust, but then you kissed him back with just as much passion. Seeing your little baby and hearing it's heartbeat made you overcome with so much happiness you could burst. "We got this, eh?," he laughed, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, we got this."

***

Later that night, you woke up by Mat shaking you awake. "What?," you asked groggily, slapping his hand away.

"Should we get married?" Well that question certainly woke you up.

"What?," you asked, finally opening your eyes and looking up at him.

"Should we get married? I mean, we're having a baby. Shouldn't we be married? And a house. We need a house. This apartment isn't big enough. The little guy is gonna need space and a yard and-"

You stopped him with a soft chuckle by placing your fingers against his lips before he hyperventilated. "Maty, relax." You sat up and turned your bedside lamp on to be able to see him better. "We don't need to get married, not right now. And how do you know it’s going to be a boy?"

“I have a feeling.” He shrugged with a grin.

“A feeling? Okay. What if we have a girl?”

“A mini version of you? I don’t mind that at all.” You leaned against him with a smile. “You don't want to get married?"

"Of course I do, but this isn't how I imagined it. I don't want to get married because we have to. We can take our time, no rush." You stroked his cheek and kissed him gently, before falling back into your pillows.

"Ok, so no wedding any time soon, what about about a house?”

“Ma-at! I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?,” you groaned. He laid back down behind you, but hovered above you, holding himself up on his elbow.

“You’re saying no to marrying me and me buying you a house?,” he teased. A small grin formed on your face.

“I didn’t say no to the house.” He chuckled in response.

“So you’re gonna let me buy you a house?”

“I mean, I’m not gonna stop you, but we can take our time with that, too. Babies don’t walk until around their first birthday.”

“No, I’ll buy you a house. You’re carrying our kid. Seems like a fair exchange.”

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. “Yeah, it does sound fair, huh?” He chuckled and tickled you, before calming down to kiss you. “Now will you let your pregnant future house owner sleep in peace, please?” You turned back around, getting comfortable.

“You could also be a fiancée,” he said to which you kicked him in the legs. “Ow! I’m just saying.”

“You can propose to me, but don’t do it because you think you have to,” you explained again, hoping he would let you sleep now. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his body. His hand slipped under you shirt, nestling on your lower stomach, right where the baby was.

“Okay, we’ll talk about it again soon.”

“Mhm. G’d night.” You placed your hand on top of his. You were suddenly filled with so much warmth and happiness and you knew everything would be fine. You might have a lot of learning to do when it comes to raising a child, but you’d figure it out. Together. “Love you.”

“Good night. I love you.”

[cafeacademia]

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been warned to stay away from your scary, bad boy neighbour, Pietro Maximoff. He's a biker and rides with a gang and he's intimidatingly handsome. While you try to avoid him at all costs, he corners you, determined to make you realise he's just as soft as you are, and he doesn't want to scare you the way he does.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Reader is super terrified of Pietro, lots of softness after the initial fright of being cornered by him, soft autumnal feels, gentle fluff, kissing, pet names, Pietro - he is a warning himself of course.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 1.5k

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello loves! Here's a little Pietro fic. It's been a while since I've written for this boy but I really missed him! I hope you enjoy this, I've been excited to write this ever since I got the request from @reyhanahasanli!

He was outside again. Pietro Maximoff, silver hair, beautiful face. But god, he terrified you.

He leaned against his bike in his driveway, looking down at his phone. You needed to go outside to check your mail but he was right there. The only times you had ever interacted with him were when he tried to talk to you. But the old lady who had lived in your little house before you had told you before you moved in to watch out for the Maximoff boy. He was in a gang and he would hurt you if you got in his way, according to her at least.

So you kept your distance, scooted past him as fast as you could and even, on one rather embarrassing occasion, bumped into him and then squealed with terror as you ran away and into your house.

But probably the worst part was that Pietro was devastatingly handsome. You saw him from the front window all the time. He was usually out in his driveway, working on his bike. Or he was in his house, shirtless and standing way too close to the window. That always made you feel even more intimidated. How was that man so handsome but so terrifying all at the same time?

You decided after a very impatient five minutes of anxiously working yourself up to just going outside and ignoring him to get your mail, you finally flung the door open and rushed out to the mailbox.

“Hey!” Pietro waved at you from his driveway, but when you looked up at him, you looked like a little rabbit caught in the headlights and you almost had the reaction to run away. But you did come here for your mail, so you fiddled, uselessly with the keys, hands fumbling as you struggled to find the right one and hold it properly. “Hello?” His thick accent made you pause. You felt him standing over you, his shadow looming over your mailbox and you swallowed nervously before you slowly tried to get the key into the lock. You were here now, running back to the house without your post would make you look ridiculous.

“Um,” Pietro said, watching as you finally got the mailbox open and pulled out the magazine that had been delivered. “Huh cute, you read about knitting. Hey, wait, hold on!” Pietro stopped you before you could walk away, his hand coming down to gently hold your wrist.

“I am sorry - do you think I’m going to hurt you, mica Prințesă?” He asked softly. For once, you looked up at Pietro and didn’t feel so intimidated. His features were soft, he was pretty and his lips were turned down in genuine concern. “I-.” You couldn’t quite muster the words, but you nodded when they failed you. For some reason you couldn’t help but be truthful with him, no matter how embarrassing it was to admit that you were afraid of him. “I won’t hurt you, I promise, Printesa. I just came to ask you what you were cooking last night, it smelled really good and-.” “Lasagne.” You interrupted, eyes wide and mildly petrified like he might hurt you for interrupting him, but you slowly relaxed when all he did was smile at you, satisfied and grateful.

You were way too scared of Pietro, but something in the way he looked at you soothed you enough to relax and let him hold onto your hand, his fingers slipping down to hold onto you, his touch gentle and calming and you felt the sudden warmth of calm. You could have pulled away, he wasn’t holding onto you tightly at all, but you didn’t want to.

What was strange to you, was that you had barely ever spoken to Pietro. The only word in this conversation you had said was a food item and now you were holding hands. But somehow, it felt right.

A storm was brewing overhead, and as you stood outside with Pietro, the wind picking up and the loose leaves blowing around the street, you heard the low rumble of thunder overhead. “Do you, um, want to come in for coffee?” You asked, voice timid and very quiet, but Pietro heard you. “Only if you are comfortable, Printesa.” He nodded. Oh… Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all. “I will leave if you ask me to, no questions asked, yes?” He reassured you and you met his eyes, trust forming as you nodded, accepting his reassurance and letting him walk with you towards the house.

As you walked in, you took your shoes off and began to warm up, rubbing the chill away from your arms with your hands. Pietro followed and toed off his boots. He was a huge contrast to the way your home looked. It was calm and warm and cute in your house and Pietro was a biker, hard and rough and tall, built with muscle, painted with pretty tattoos and messy silver hair. But you liked the way he contrasted you.

“This way.” You showed him to your kitchen, quickly going about making him a nice, pretty coffee. “Can I ask you something?” Pietro asked. “Mhm.” You nodded, barely meeting his eyes before turning back to your coffee machine. “Are you scared of me, sweetheart?” He asked quietly, watching you as he leaned against your kitchen counters. And for the first time, Pietro sounded unsure of himself, worried about how you would answer. “Um, maybe a bit.” You nodded, avoiding eye contact. Pietro softened at your words. You really were afraid of him and that broke his heart. But also, it sparked a need to protect you, to make it known that he’d rather protect you than hurt you. “Please do not be, I know I look scary but I am nice. I have a twin sister and I cannot go a week without hugging her and I really like coffee. I really like dogs and I am not part of a gang, is that why you are scared of me?” He rambled. “You’re- you’re not?” You frowned, finally looking over at him. “No, I meet with my biker friends to ride but we are not a gang. We just ride our bikes for fun on Sundays.” He explained, accent thick on his words as he tried to get them out as fast as possible. “Oh… Like a club.” You nodded, passing him a coffee decorated with pretty patterns in the foam.

“Yes, like a club.”

From that moment onwards, you and Pietro were a lot more friendly. Instead of being terrified of him, you often said hello to him and waved if you were in a rush. On the days that you weren’t busy, you sometimes found yourself enjoying the comfort of his living room while it rained outside on cold autumnal evenings. You even showed him how to make traditional lasagne. He loved that.

And one Sunday evening, after his biker friends had left, you peeked your head out of the door to watch him putting his motorbike back in his garage, only for him to call over his shoulder, “are you just going to stand there or do you want to come over, Prințesă?” That was all the prompting you needed to leave your house, cross over to his driveway and throw yourself into his arms, Pietro catching you and hugging you tight against his chest, warm and loving.

“I want to make you a paprikash tonight. Will you cook with me?” He asked, leading you out of the garage and into his house. “Of course.” You nodded. “My good girl. Come, I’ll show you.”

You didn’t do much helping. You mostly just sat on one of his countertops and watched as he cooked while you told him about your day. He let his paprikash cook slowly and while it did, he moved over towards you, stepping closer to rest his hands on the counter, either side of you. “I’m glad we met.” You spoke softly. “Mm, me too, pretty girl.” Pietro gave you his lopsided grin and you nearly melted at the sight. “Are you still afraid of me?” He asked quietly, voice suddenly serious as he leaned closer to you, lips only a breath away from yours. “No, Piet.” You whispered truthfully. “Promise, Printesa mea. Please.” And he captured you softly in a kiss, lips warm and gentle against yours, hands careful as he held you. He felt perfect. Everything about being with Pietro felt perfect. “I promise.” You whispered against his lips. You poured your emotions into your kiss, hands trailing up until they met at the nape of his neck. Pietro kissed you until you were both breathless. He took his time, loving you slowly, kissing you how he had always wanted to kiss you, meaningfully, genuine and full of adoration.

@russian-potatoes @hallecarey1 @reyhanahasanli @mgcllovdrms @liltimmyst @spikedhe4rt @landoisokay @megantje123

[ifonlyitwasmidnight]

Hi, hope you can see this…can I request a Oneshot or a Scenario for Tokyo Revengers? Which the Toman boys got converted into toddlers and the reader (who’s the only one how didn’t got converted into a toddler) have to take care of them?

Hey! Sorry for the delay, but here we go! This was so much fun to write! I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it for you :)

Summary: The Tokyo Revengers boys were turned into toddlers! It's up to you, Emma, and Hina to keep them in one piece!

Word Count: 1826

Insistent and unrelenting banging on your front door roused you from sleep. Beside you, your phone vibrated against the nightstand, reverberating loudly through the wood. You rolled over with a groan, stretching your muscles to try and relieve yourself of the urge to ignore whatever was going on in favor of more rest.

You fumbled for your phone, which stopped ringing as you slammed your hand on it. The backlight from the screen was bright in your dark room, blinding you momentarily.

15 missed calls.

“What the…” you whispered, clicking on the call log. A mix of Emma and Hina’s names filled the screen.

The banging on your front door started again, causing you to drop your phone. The noise was much louder this time. Panic began to sink in. What if something had happened overnight? You shot from bed, tripping over your feet as you scooped up the nearest jacket and all but sprinted to the front door. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, only to be pushed back against the wall when Hina and Emma rushed in, talking over each other frantically.

“What took you so long to answer?” Emma sputtered, clearly out of breath.

You looked between them both—they looked okay. 

“What happened? Is someone hurt?” You were panicked. They would never show up like this if something weren’t wrong.

“Not hurt, exactly,” Hina muttered.

Emma and Hina stepped aside, and your eyes were drawn to the space between them, where seven tiny toddlers stood. Something about the grumpy little faces looking up at you seemed familiar. Unruly blond hair pinned back at the top, a braid down another's head, lavender, long black, two more blondes, and one that looked like tiger stripes… 

You gasped, slapping your hands over your mouth. These were the boys. All the boys. But they were the size of toddlers, pushing and shoving at each other, filling the room with childish laughter. 

“What the fuck?” You stammered. 

“We don’t know!” Emma threw up her hands and nudged little Mikey off her leg as he pulled on the hem of her shirt. “Mikey quit!”

“Hungry!” Mikey yelled, voice silencing the other boys. The noise suddenly turned into demands for food. 

You knelt so you were at eye level with them all.

“Hey, guys. You all hungry?” 

Shouts of “yes” and trampling feet rushed past you further into your apartment. Almost all, at least. Little Kazutora walked up to you silently and put his arms out. You scooped him up, straddling him on your hip as you moved towards the kitchen, Emma and Hina at your back.

“Do you think they know what’s going on?” You shot over your shoulder. 

Hina squeaked as Takemichi, Chifuyu, and Baji ran past her, chasing each other around and jumping off the furniture. 

“Boys!” You raised your voice to get their attention. They stopped in their tracks, looking at you with wide eyes. “Not on the furniture—you’ll get hurt. Got it?”

The two unruly blondes nodded quickly, and Baji pouted, his lower lip sticking out under his fangs. Draken and Mitsuya giggled at their friends getting in trouble. 

“How did you do that?” Emma said as she looked through your cabinets for food. “They’ve been like this all morning. I’m never having kids.”

“Little siblings, remember?” You adjusted Kazutora as you reached for bowls and spoons. All you had was cereal to feed them. “It’s how Mitsuya and I bonded. Whole having to raise little ones while you were barely grown thing.”

You three worked in tandem, getting them all settled with of bowls of cereal in front of the TV, putting on some unknown kid show full of colors and music to keep their attention. This was the craziest thing you had ever seen. This was something you would see in a B-rated movie on prime TV. Mikey was the first to finish, dropping the spoon on the table where it clattered loudly. He got up from his spot and began to make his way towards the couch, presumably to fall asleep like he did whenever he ate, but Mitsuya caught him by the tail of his shirt before he could get too far.

“You need to pu’ your stuff ‘way, Ikey.”

You, Emma, and Hina stifled giggles at how Mitsuya couldn’t quite say Mikey’s name. Mikey stomped back to his bowl and picked it up, going to the kitchen to deposit it in the sink, barely tall enough to get his hands over the lip of the counter. He stuck his tongue out at Mitsuya as he collapsed on the couch, his eyes closing instantly.

“What do we do with them now?” Hina was looking at Takemichi with worry painted across her delicate features.

“Entertain them, I suppose?” You offered the solution at a loss yourself. “We don’t know how it happened or if it will reverse.”

“You mean they might be stuck like this?” Emma groaned. “I’m too young for this.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

You snapped your fingers. There was a park around the corner from your apartment. 

“Emma, why don’t you stay here with Mikey while Hina and I take the rest of the boys to the park?” If you could get their energy out and get them to sleep, maybe that would reverse the effects. 

The six that were still awake all looked at you at the same time, excitement painted across each face. You were slowly putting together that they didn’t just look like toddler versions of themselves; they were the toddler versions. You shushed them as they all started talking at once, pointing at the sleeping form of Mikey. They all instantly quieted down, shushing each other. 

You and Hina were out the door not five minutes later, keeping a close eye on Baji and Draken as they ran down the walkway. 

“Red light!” You called to them as they got too far, and they both froze, waiting for the adults to catch up impatiently. 

Kazutora held one hand, clinging closely to you, and Mitsuya held your other. Hina was carrying Takemichi on her back as he rambled about everything he could see, and Chifuyu was holding her free hand, swinging it back and forth, bright eyes taking in his surroundings.

“How did you all round them up?” 

Hina reached for Chifuyu as he ran ahead to join Draken and Baji. She sighed, giving up on trying to keep him close.

“We were all at our house last night. When I woke up this morning, they were all,” she gestured widely, encompassing all the boys in the motion.

You nodded. You were supposed to be with the group hanging out last night, but after a long day at work, all you wanted was to go home and climb into bed. Hina leaned down so that Takemichi could press the button to cross the busy street, the park within sight. When the little man on the panel lit up, all the boys raced across the street, even Kazutora, desperate to get to their favorite pieces of the playground.

Pushes on the swings turned into helping on monkey bars and watching tiny bodies fly down the slides. Each one demanded your attention the longer you were there, getting jealous of the others if your or Hina’s eyes weren’t equally divided. Slowly, each boy began to sit on the nearby benches, finally running their energy out. 

“Baji!” You called for the only one who was still going strong. “We gotta go, buddy. Everyone else is tired.”

“No!” Baji yelled back, folding his arms across his chest. 

You raised an eyebrow at Baji as Mitsuya walked up to you, requesting that you pick him up where he tucked his head into your shoulder, exhaustion quickly overtaking his not-so-little-anymore body.

“Baji, you either get over here, or I will come get you,” Hina said sternly, a clear mom voice coming out. 

Baji kicked at the ground a little before giving in and coming to join the group. You grunted as you adjusted Mitsuya to be a little higher.

“I swear, he’s gotten bigger since we got here.” Hina looked over at you, but her attention was captured by Draken, who was now at the top of her hip. He may have always been the tallest one, but he was defiantlytaller than he was this morning. You looked him over, and he flashed a smirk back up at you, more in line with a kid rather than a toddler. 

“Let’s get them back,” you said as you grabbed Baji’s hand before he could wander off again. He yawned widely, giving into the handhold quicker than you thought he would. 

Settled back in your apartment, all the boys collapsed on the couch, piled on each other like a pile of puppies. 

“They’re all bigger. Even Mikey,” Emma whispered as you all gathered back in the kitchen, the only place you could talk freely without fear of waking them.

“Maybe it means this is over?” Hina peered around the corner for a quick look, giving you both a thumbs up, signaling they had fallen asleep already.

They all stayed asleep for hours, and it seemed like they morphed each time you looked at them. Tiny limbs extended into lengthy, awkward teenage phases. Draken stirred first, the sounds of grunting as he untangled himself from the group drawing your attention. He was taller than you again as he stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before enveloping you in a hug like he usually would.

You stiffened for a second before he pulled back and looked at you, a questioning look crossing his face when you didn’t hug him back.

“What?” He grumbled.

“Are you back to normal?” You looked him over. He seemed normal. 

“What’da mean?” 

You pointed back to the couch where the rest of the boys were still slowly returning to normal. Drakens eyes shot open as he took in the frames of his friends.

“Holy fuck, I thought that was just a bad dream.” He looked around, suddenly realizing he was in yourapartment, not Takemichi’s.

“Nope,” Hina popped the ‘p’ in the word, blowing gently on her cup of coffee.

The restored Draken stood with you in the kitchen while the others slowly woke up, returned to their original forms. The sun was setting when Chifuyu finally woke up, all his friends waiting patiently for him to join them. He sat up and stretched his returned-to-normal arms over his head, groaning overly dramatically as he did.

“You guys would not believe the dream I had. Wait, why are we here?” He looked at you all, eyes bouncing between each person.

“Wasn’t a dream, man,” Baji said as he flipped through the channels on the TV. 

“I’m never drinking again,” Kazutora said as he leaned his head against your shoulder. You patted his head affectionally, laughing at your bizarre day. 

[creativekha0s]

Liv Morgan x Rhea Ripley/ Liv 4 Brutality one shot! Finally I wrote some smutty fun for these two after teasing it in other works. This was fun coming off the top of my head 😅 Please enjoy! Also this is my first time writing smut in almost two years so forgive me if it’s a little rusty lol

———————————————————————

11:57 PM.

Another year older and the day was coming to an end.

Lunch with the family, dinner with her friends, going out for a few drinks afterwards to celebrate. Everything was perfect. Another year in the books. Well, almost perfect. Not being able to give the answer you want to give someone when they ask what you want for your birthday felt criminal. But what Liv really wanted deep down was something no one could actually wrap up in a box and give her. It was like asking Santa around Christmas for superpowers or bottomless bank account. It was silly. To Liv though, it wasn’t.

11:58 PM.

Not a phone call, not one text, a mention on social media, a Snapchat even. Hell, even a handwritten letter would make her fold with a drop of emotion. But nothing. Maybe it was silly after all to be this hopeful for something she ached for so bad. Maybe calling it an early night tonight wasn’t the right call and staying out drinking, not to celebrate her birthday, but to numb the pain she felt would make things easier. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to face reality and move on with her life. Others have done it to her countless times before and maybe it was time to play their game.

11:59 PM.

A loud knock on her apartment door sends a wave of panic throughout her chest. Not even three seconds pass before a series of quick knocks follow. Liv rushes over to fumble with the locks and turns the handle, and another wave of panic hits her when she opens the door.

Tall. Tattooed. Raven dark hair. Puppy dog eyes. Australian accent. A smile that could warm up the Earth in a blizzard. In her raised hands was a one chocolate cupcake with a single lit candle.

In other words, a birthday wish granted.

“Happy birthday, Livvy.” Her voice soft and gentle but three words spoken hit Liv Morgan right in her heart. The blonde’s eyes lit up and her lips curled into a sad smile. She wasn’t forgotten about after all. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had trying to get all the way here to wish you this face to face. You can’t deny it isn’t spontaneous.” Rhea offered the cupcake with her hands. “But quick, make a wish. We’re almost out of time.”

Thirty seconds to midnight according to Liv’s watch. The blonde was at a loss for words currently. She only had one wish loaded in the chamber as of five minutes ago and it was granted thirty seconds ago. Thinking quickly, Liv took a step forward and slowly blew the single candle out and watched as the smoke drifted into the air. Rhea brought the cupcake back down and pulled the candle out, putting the butt end between her lips to lick the remnants off with a satisfying hum.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you or not….” Liv spoke softly as her eyes watched Rhea’s lips wrap around the candle.

“Oh darling, missing your birthday is something I never want to happen in this life.”

She was perfect. This….Liv could barely put it into words. It was all romantic in such a way only Rhea could make her feel. Making her wait all day, hanging onto that thread of hope, that there was a chance they would see each other today, until literally the last possible second….

The next thing they knew was Liv had pulled Rhea inside her apartment and crashed their lips together. Somehow in the midst of being pulled inside, the apartment door getting locked behind them, and being led towards Liv’s bedroom, Rhea was able to safely place the cupcake down on a side table for an after dessert dessert. When the cupcake was safe, Rhea hoisted Liv up so the blonde could wrap her legs around her body and carried the blonde safely to her bed, their lips gliding against each other’s while their tongues danced excitedly together.

“I’ve missed you terribly.” Liv gasped out in between kisses. Reaching down she began pulling Rhea’s top off of her body and over her head. In response, the Aussie leaned down and started to attack Liv’s neck with strong, wet kisses. “Please don’t ever leave me again.” Liv let out a soft exhale turning her head to the side for easier access, then a moan escaped her lips when Rhea latched onto a particular spot.

“Never again.” Rhea promised. This was it this time and neither were going to let any obstacles come between them. The heart wants what it wants, Liv and Rhea knew in theirs that they wanted each other. As her hands dipped up into Liv’s shirt, she quickly discarded it to the side of the bed, smirking when saw that it was the only article of clothing she wore, and targeted her kisses down Liv’s neck, to her chest, before capturing a nipple between her lips. Though it was well past midnight, Rhea was going to make damn sure that Liv enjoyed every second of her birthday gift. Liv was instantly in heaven having Rhea twirling her tongue around her nipples, sucking them gently, pulling one up with her lips while her fingers tugged the opposite one.

The blonde’s hands pawed at Rhea’s ass not once but twice, then she skillfully undid her bra and pulled the dark haired girl up to return the favor, sucking and teasing her breasts with a burning passion. The bedroom suddenly filled with gasps, hums, and low moans while the two battled for dominance over one another. Liv’s night shorts were on the floor, Rhea’s jeans had been pushed down past her ankles, their tongues aggressively fighting for supremacy.

Ultimately, Rhea gained control. Her hand pulled the front of Liv’s underwear to the side and began feeling just how much of a wet mess she made the blonde underneath her. When Liv whimpered, she knew that she had won. Teasing her fingers up and down, pushing along her glistening folds, each moan from Liv was music to Rhea’s ears.

“Fuck, baby…please don’t stop..” Liv groaned out.

“Mmm. Tell me what you want, birthday girl.” Rhea smirked and pushed her index finger slowly inside the blonde then back out, bringing it up to her lips to taste.

“You.” Liv shivered with another moan, gazing down at the raven haired woman between her legs. “I want you, Rhea….take me, mark me, fuck me….” Without keeping her any further from her wish, Rhea hovered her lips above Liv’s and pushed two fingers inside of her, grinning from ear to ear as the air from Liv’s gasp hit her in the face.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Livvy.” Their eyes remained locked on each other while Rhea began pumping in and out of Liv at a steady rhythm, watching how she moaned and attempted to buck her hips to match her pace. With her free hand Rhea traced her nails up Liv’s thighs, up her abdomen, slow up across her chest, and wrapping her hand gently around her throat before she cupped Liv’s cheek. “I’m going to appreciate every single inch of your body.” Her two fingers sped up fingerfucking Liv until she could feel when she was close, that’s when the Aussie dipped her head down to finish Liv off personally with her tongue, swiping it across her clit over and over again until Liv Morgan was an incoherent mess.

“Oh my. Fucking. Fuuuuuuck.” Rhea smirked at her actions that caused the blonde girl to quiver, watching her legs shake in pleasure as her tongue expertly helped Liv ride her orgasm as long as possible. Liv gripped the sheets on her bed and bucked her hips against Rhea’s tongue over and over until she was forced come back down from her high, laying back flat on her bed with the biggest smile on her face. Once Rhea lapped out everything she had to offer, the dark hair girl crawled up Liv’s body as peppered kisses everywhere until she reached her lips, the two getting lost in each other’s eyes. “You’re incredible, so frickin’ incredible.” Tasting herself against Rhea’s lips as they kissed turned Liv on even more, so she flipped the two over and straddled the Aussie, pulling her underwear down in the process while the girl on bottom giggled.

“Livvy, I don’t want your homemade cupcake to go stale.” Rhea heard something along the lines of only needing a few minutes herself, Liv’s words becoming muffler as her head dove in between Rhea’s legs this time. Rhea gasped more audibly than expected and looked down to watch Liv hungrily provide her the same passionate lip service, running a free hand through her blonde hair to pull her face impossibly closer. “Mmm, fuck yes baby. Don’t stop, don’t you dare bloody stop…” It wasn’t Rhea’s birthday but it didn’t stop Liv from granting her wish and continuing her oral assault until she made Rhea’s legs quiver just the same as hers did, smiling as she savored every single second of Rhea’s orgasm on the tip of her tongue.

Liv pressed a few more kisses up Rhea’s body and joined her in her embrace and rested her head gently on her chest, both panting quietly against one another. When she felt she had her leg strength back the blonde wandered over to the where the cupcake sat and grabbed in her hand and brought it back to bed with her. Rhea had climbed back to the pillows and rested her head as her eyes went from seeing stars to seeing a happy and very naked Liv Morgan peel the wrapper off of the cupcake.

“Some wishes do come true, don’t they?” Liv took a bite of the cupcake and shut her eyes happily to enjoy the flavor of a homemade cupcake. Ripping off a piece she fed it to Rhea, who used her tongue teasingly to wipe the excess frosting on the side of her lip. “This is amazing, thank you so much for everything, Rhea.”

“Everyone deserves to have an amazing birthday dessert after they’ve had their dessert.”

The two chuckled and finished off the treat together, entangling with one another as they shared sweet kisses with each other, doing their best to entice the other to cave first so they could go another round before their night was over.

[whchenlvr]

when you’re a fighter ;

i lost the request for this and cannot remember if it was another sibling-like request or a regular one, but it was union’s reaction to when the reader goes too far in a fight, and i miss writing romance, so here ya go!

okay a new request came in, but i was already almost finished so i’m sorryyyy (also i’m sorry if they’re hard to follow, i’ve been working slowly for over a week :’))

tw! mentions of sa/emotional trauma, violence

weak hero union x gn!reader

donald na

you’d asked donald to teach you how to fight after you were attacked one night. you’d never felt more powerless, and donald thought he was helping when he agreed to show you some defensive moves. of course, after those, you wanted to learn how to hit back. part of donald wanted to assure you that he’d take care of anyone who tried to touch you again, but he knew you needed closure in order to heal. you were doing well. your confidence was slowly returning, and you didn’t have nightmares every night anymore. donald praised your progress, comforting and helping you in every way you needed. all was well, and you even started leaving your apartment on your own. you were so sure you were past what had happened until hearing a familiar laugh on your way home from school. everything your boyfriend taught you went out the window, and you were frozen. you fumbled with your phone, finding donald’s contact immediately and texting him where you were. when the men spotted you, you thought for sure that you were a goner. but when one approached, everything you learned came rushing back, and you knocked him off his feet with a single punch. that left you feeling powerful, and you were able to scare the others off before soloing your gaze on him. the man from your nightmares. tears blurred your vision, but you could see that he was scared. you swept his left from beneath him as he pleaded for mercy, begging you not to hit him. straddling the blubbering ball of disgust, you spat the same words he’d said to you right back at him, slapping his face and throwing your fists against his chest with each one. you hit him again and again until he lost consciousness, then you hit him some more. you wouldn’t have stopped if not for the arms flying around your waist, pulling you off of the man as you kicked and sobbed into the air. “let go of me! he deserves to die!” “he does, darling, but not at your hand,” donald soothed from behind you, his arms holding you firmly against his chest to calm you down. “you’ll be okay. i’ll handle this for you. i’ll take care of you.” part of you wanted to argue with him, but you were suddenly so exhausted you couldn’t. “i’m sorry.” donald didn’t reply, and you couldn’t help but feel that you disappointed him.

jake ji

jake understood your reasons behind becoming a fighter. you grew up in the system, and protecting yourself was important for survival. there were times he’d have to pull you back when your immediate instinct was to attack, and he’d tell you that he was there and you didn’t have to react. you grew dependent on having jake there to keep you grounded, and soon, you started pulling yourself back without your boyfriend intervening. until you stumbled across two relatively large kids picking on a child you recognized from one of the orphanages you’d run away from. “hyeri,” you breathed her name, and the sobbing little girl slipped from their grasp long enough to run into yours, and you pushed her behind your back as the older kids advanced. “we’re just having some fun!” they tried, but when you saw the red splotches and bruises on hyeri’s arms and neck, your jaw clenched. “hyeri, go to that vet down the street and don’t come out until i get you, okay?” she ran off without needing to be told twice. you know you should have run with her, but your fists clenched and your jaw tightened. when one of the kids charged, you stepped out of his reach and swung at the sensitive area just below his ear, knocking him onto the ground with an awful scream. your body moved automatically, the years of fighting coming back to you in seconds. “y/n!” you heard someone call, but your mind was far away. you raised a fist to knock the second guy unconscious, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist. you whipped around in rage, anger dissipating immediately after recognizing your boyfriend. his chest was raising and falling quickly as if he’d run across town to stop you. “y/n, they’re just kids.” “they were hurting her. hyeri—they were hurting her.” you rambled on, not caring if they were kids or not. you’d been a kid, too, and you wanted nothing more than for someone to fight for you the same way you just fought for hyeri. “you were defending her. you did good! but i don’t want you to get hurt...” translation: he didn’t want you to hurt someone else, but you didn’t correct him. “are you okay?” he asked when you winced, and you nodded, the exhaustion catching up to you quick. “let’s go home.”

dean kwon

fight or flight was embedded in your blood. your father was a professional boxer, and your mother abandoned you both when you were still a child. fight and flight. you huffed a sigh as you flipped through a magazine, sipping some coffee outside of the cafe you were going to meet dean at. “did you hear about that boxer? the silver sledgehammer?” your interest instantly peaked at the mention of your father’s stage name. “yeah. can’t believe it. why would the king of clubs send someone to rough him up like that? i heard he might die!” your heart stopped in your chest. you were familiar with this fucking “king” and his dirty tactics. you also knew where he resided, and you couldn’t think as your feet pulled you in that direction. you’re guessing dean arrived at the cafe not long after you left because your phone began to blow up. unfortunately for you, your boyfriend also knew where the king of clubs stayed, and he’d heard the news about your dad. you arrived at your destination within ten minutes, and though you hopes your rage would subside with time, it only grew. the guards at the door didn’t put up much of a fight, and when you came face-to-face with the man who’d attacked your father, your blood boiled. his eyes widened when he saw you approaching him, and he wasn’t able to get any words out before you had him pinned to the ground. “my father...” you were shaking so hard with rage that you couldn’t get the words out. he began blubbering out apologies, but you were hardly listening. you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up until your noses practically touched. “for that, i am going to kill you.” he screamed, and you slammed him against the ground until he stopped. you watched blood starting to pool around the king’s head, but you were transfixed on ruining this man’s life. “y/n, stop!” dean appeared in front of you, and you hesitated. lowering your gaze, you realized that the boxer was unconscious—you hoped he was unconscious. “i...” you weren’t sure what to say. you didn’t want to apologize or break down for defending your dad, so you spit on the man’s body and marched over to dean. “i’m sorry you had to see that, but i won’t apologize for what i did to that man—” you were cut off when dean suddenly pulled you into a hug, your chin propped messily on his shoulder as he pressed a comforting hand to the back of your head. “i thought something happened to you. don’t run off like that without me again, got it?”

wolf keum

you weren’t a fighter, to be honest. you didn’t have to be whenever you were around wolf. being with him taught you that you didn’t have to pick a fight with everyone just because, and though he was still active, you chose not to be. that was unless you had to be. and there came a dreadful day when you had to be. wolf was in deep shit with donald na, and that kind of knowledge didn’t stay a secret very long. the fact that wolf was on the hit list meant you had a target on your back as well, and you’d asked wolf to help you learn up on your moves. he’d been doing just that when you were visited by the mokha duo. since it was two on two, you tried to hold dongha off as wolf fought seongmok. you both knew they were stronger together, so it was your plan to keep them apart. it wasn’t long before dongha had you in a headlock, his nose to your neck as he spat teasing words at you. you were left disgusted, and that flustered you enough to give him an advantage. “l-let go!” you choked out, trying to use your elbow to loosen his grip. you were only able to break free after your fingers grazed against a sharp piece of glass, and you shoved it deep into dongha’s thigh. he released you instantly, giving you enough time to flip the two of you over. you had the high ground now, your legs tight around his waist and your hands clasped around his neck. you squeezed. all the adrenaline, the fear of dying, came rushing over you. dark spots invaded your vision, but you kept your eyes wide and focused on the man below you. you wanted to kill him. wolf said nothing as he eyed you, having handled seongmok for now. he wouldn’t have attempted to stop you if not for seeing the look on your face. blank. he knew if you went too far, you’d regret it. you weren’t a fighter. he didn’t want to turn you into himself, and it was for that reason alone that wolf stood and placed a hand on your shoulder. you looked up at him through your blurry vision, matching his stormy eyes. “that’s enough. he’s done.” he didn’t say much more after that, only extending a hand for you to take. you shakily pulled yourself from dongha, grabbing hold of wolf’s hand and allowing him to lead you out of that place.

jimmy bae

before you and jimmy started dating, you were considered the stray of yoosun. no one knew a truthful thing about you, only that you were violent and aggressive. you had your reasons, but no one cared to listen until jimmy. after telling him your story, you considered yourselves bonded, and it didn’t matter what anyone said about you because jimmy believed you. you thought that was all you needed to be content, but you quickly realized how wrong you were when a group of students cornered you one evening, spitting insults at you and accusing you of messing with their boyfriends. you wouldn’t have reacted if they’d kept their hands to themselves, but when one student started pulling at your shirt, you snapped. all you saw was red as you grabbed the student by the back of the neck and smashed their face into the corner of the bathroom sink, admiring the small crack left behind before reaching for another student. one after another they tried to lay hands on you, and one after another you left them withering on the ground in pain. you didn’t want to, but you enjoyed the sight of them in pain. now they finally understood you. time slipped by, and you had no intention of stopping. some students managed to escape the room with only a few injuries, but there were quite a few bested by you. they lay at your feet, defeated, and you couldn’t help but laugh. you pulled your leg back in front of one and swung until your foot connected with his abdomen. you couldn’t stop kicking. even as blood sept from the boy’s lips, you couldn’t stop. you didn’t want to. you wanted him to feel everything you felt, and you probably would have killed him if not for being violently pulled away. “are you trying to kill him?!” you flinched when jimmy shouted, and his shoulders instantly fell at your reaction. you wanted to say yes, but you didn’t want to prove all those rumors about you being some psychopath. “i went too far...” you breathed, and jimmy pulled you into his chest. “it’s okay. you didn’t mean to, right?” “right.” you melted into the hug, fighting back tears as you and jimmy decided to skip the rest of your classes and get milkshakes.

jack kang

jack was a good fighter, but you were more skilled. he may have been stronger, but you had more experience. you often joked that jack was your “baby girl”, knowing how much he hated it. you didn’t like comparing yourself to someone like jimmy, but there were times when jack had to be the voice of reason and remind you that you didn’t have to waste your time picking useless fights with useless people. you found him hypocritical at times (like when he punched alex go just for passing each other on the street), but you did appreciate him. you’d been walking home from a convenience store one night when you overheard some punks talking about “jimmy bae’s bitch”. you ignored them at first, trying to imagine jack telling you to let it go, but you stilled when you heard “jack kang”. you knew they were just messing around and weren’t worth your time, but their words just irked you. you couldn’t stop yourself as you turned around and glared at them, warning them to keep their mouths shut about yoosun. of course, they took your defense as a challenge, and you had no choice but to fight back once you were swung at. once they saw that you were capable of beating them, they tried to run away. you managed to catch one, as he hadn’t quite realized they were retreating and tried to grab at the back of your jacket. swiftly, you pulled your arms from the sleeves, keeping your hold on them as you twisted so that you were now behind the dumbass who thought he could win against you, you pulled your arms out, tightening the sleeves around his neck, and planned to keep pulling until the man lost consciousness. you knew jack would be disappointed when he found out, but you didn’t care. until you heard him yelling for you to stop. you dropped the sleeves, flinching when you heard the loud thud of the boy you’d knocked out. you let out a little laugh at the look on jack’s face, but it wasn’t maniacal or crazed, you genuinely found his expression funny. your sudden burst of laughter caused jack to crack as well, and soon you were both giggling the entire way home (but jack did make you promise not to lose your cool without him around :)).

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Next-Door Desire

Pairing || Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t avoid your hunky next-door neighbour. Despite your attempts, his adorable kids made sure it didn’t last.

Word Count || 806

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Implied Smut, Slight Angst — 18+ Only, Minors DNI, minor explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early 40’s), implied infidelity, sexual tension.

Authors Note || This is before my Late Night Rides fic. Thank you to my lovely @jadedvibes for helping with the title and summary!

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

You were in a rush to get out of the house and get going to meet up with some of your friends. You were already 15 minutes late. With your phone in hand, you texted them that you were on your way and would be there very soon.

Fumbling with putting all your stuff in your bag, you stepped outside and locked the door.

With your stressful mind, you didn’t even notice that your next-door neighbours were out in the front garden until their kids screamed your name and came running to you.

The two little troublemakers clung to you—one on your leg and the other holding your waist as they talked over each other, asking too many questions for you to keep up with them.

“Wow, wow, wow! Hey, slow down. One at a time.” You chuckled as you looked down at them with a bright smile.

“Are you going somewhere?” The one on your leg, the youngest, questioned.

“Are you meeting a boy?” The oldest giggled.

“Can you please come and play with us? We miss you so much.” They both said in unison with puppy dog eyes while tugging your clothes. It was hard to resist their innocent and sweet nature, but you really couldn’t stay, and it would break your heart that you had to break theirs.

“Yes, I’m going out. No, I’m not meeting a boy,” you chuckled, “and, oh, you guys, I miss you too. But I can’t play right now, ok? I’m so sorry.”

“Awww.” They drew out while putting their heads down and going back to playing on their own.

Because you were so preoccupied with the sweet and clingy kids, you hadn’t realised their parents had watched the spectacle unfold. Your hot next-door neighbour Bucky had a bright smile on his face while his wife looked annoyed beside him.

“Hey,” Bucky uttered with a wave.

“O-oh, h-hey, Bucky.”

You were always so nervous around him that you almost always fumbled your words and felt all flustered. He was an unbelievably handsome man that you’d had a fat crush on ever since you met him a few weeks ago while you were babysitting his kids.

It was especially hard now to function properly when he was practically half-naked in front of you with nothing but a pair of shorts covering him. You stifled a whimper as you took in his bare and muscular torso. A few drops of sweat ran down his abs after working in the garden. And the few spots of dirt decorating his skin made him look so much hotter.

He had his hands on his hips and stood in such a way that it looked like he was showing off his delicious goods, and you wanted nothing more than have a taste of that.

Bucky must have sensed you zoning out and chuckled in amusement while licking his bottom lip. You got pulled out of your fantasy and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at getting caught staring. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself, but Bucky shifted the clear sexual tension into another subject.

“Sorry about the kids. Hope they weren’t too much of a bother. They just miss you.”

“N-no, it’s fine. R-really. I miss them as well, and I wish I could stay, b-but I have to get going.”

“Yeah, of course. But if you want to come over tonight or maybe tomorrow, I know they would love that, and we wouldn’t mind, right honey?” Bucky glanced over to his wife.

You had completely forgotten that she was right beside him because all your attention had been entirely on him, and now you felt extremely bad about the obvious ogling you'd done on her husband a few moments ago.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered in annoyance while returning to gardening, leaving you and Bucky.

That woman had always hated you for some reason, and you didn’t know why.

“Uh, I’m sorry about her.” He pursed his lips.

“I-it’s fine.” You took a few steps away from him, starting to leave before turning to him again. “But I can come over tonight if that’s still ok?” You smiled shyly.

“Yeah, of course, I would love that. I-I mean, the kids would love that.” He laughed nervously as he averted his eyes from you. A slight blush crept up on his cheeks. And you also felt all flustered and giddish again.

“I-I’ll be over.” You smiled as you waved. “Bye, Bucky.”

“See ya.”

On your way to your friends, you shouldn't shake off your enormous smile and excitement at the awkward yet thrilling interaction you just had with your extremely hot neighbour.

You felt a longing now when you weren’t in his presence, and you would feel a deep ache within you the whole day until you could see him again tonight.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

[9tzuyu]

crush

note: every single stevenat stan i’ve ever interacted with has been lesbophobic so fuck them and that nasty ass ship. this ones for @starsvck and the lesbians + lesbian nat stannies.

natasha is a lesbian now go cry about it.

req: bae comfort fic w reader and nat where reader comes out as a lesbian after struggling w their sexuality for so long <333 ur so slay and ily

warnings: internalized lesbophobia, but it gets better ‹3 semi-proofread.

🏷: @c-is-writing my beloved

. . .

most of your life you spent being jealous of everyone who could have a crush on a boy. you wanted to feel that desire to want a boy or a man. and you tried as you got older, but it only ever resulted in awkward dates and uncomfortable, half-assed makeout sessions.

being with a man never felt right to you, and it never would feel right. you knew it wasn't wrong, but it was so much easier to say you liked women than it was to accept the fact that you would never be attracted to a man.

you only told your closest friends. none of them had a problem with it, but you also knew none of them would understand the way you felt. it didn't matter if they were straight, bisexual or any other sexuality, they would never understand how isolating it is to be a lesbian. the weight of that had been on your heart for as long as you could remember.

now you were 24 living in a cheap apartment alone. life was okay, but you still struggled to accept such an important part of yourself.

bumping into natasha didn't help, especially not when you hadn't seen her since high school.

"y/n?" her green eyes scanned over your body and you blushed under her gaze.

"that's me," you mumbled shyly.

you'd always had a tiny crush on the woman, she was the very definition of the word gorgeous. all throughout high school you tried to suppress it. clearly that didn't work out too well because natasha could still make you turn into mush whenever she was around.

"i almost didn't recognize you! you've changed so much since i last saw you. not- not that it's a bad thing of course," she rushed out.

you weren't quite sure how to respond to the woman, so you just offered a small nod of the head.

"it's good seeing you, natasha."

"wait! don't go just yet. here," she reached into her back pocket to pull out her phone. "type in your number."

"i'm sorry?" you were taken back by the request.

natasha smiled, "go on, type in your number. we can meet for coffee or lunch or something. are you busy tomorrow?"

you fumbled with natasha's phone in your hands, carefully typing out each digit before triple checking for any mistakes.

"i don't think so."

natasha visibly brightened. "great. i'll text you the details, see you tomorrow y/n!"

you made you way back to your apartment with uncertainty on your mind.

it was always confusing when a girl would ask you to go out. you were never sure if they meant it in a friendly matter or as a date. every time you thought about it though, you wanted to roll your eyes at all the missed opportunities you had because they probably thought you weren't interested.

. . .

the next morning you awoke to a text from natasha.

'see you at the coffee shop on fourth. 12 o'clock. don't be late ;).'

her message formed a smile on your face and all of a sudden you felt like you were in high school again.

you had a little over two hours to get ready. it was perfect timing. you had just enough room to shower, pick an outfit and leave while being right on time.

everything felt fine until you remembered exactly what you were doing and how you've always felt about natasha. the familiar feeling of shame crept into the back of your mind. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and drove to the coffee shop on fourth street, just like the redhead told you to.

11:57.

you sighed, already feeling slight regret. there was no way you could go inside. not when natasha romanoff was in there waiting for you. she truly was the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen, how could you ever compete?

12:01.

shoving your nerves aside, you shut off your car, closing the door before making your way in.

natasha wasn't hard to miss. her fiery red hair and piercing green eyes could be spotted miles away. she looked at you with her signature smirk.

"you're one minute late."

"sorry, got stuck in traffic." you mumbled sheepishly.

"or perhaps you spent five or so minutes in your car before actually coming in." you shrugged, biting back the 'pretty women make me nervous' line.

"i hope you like lattes, i got you chai." she pointed to the cup on the left of her.

"i do. chai is one of my favorites, thank you."

"you're still just as shy as you were in high school," she giggled. "also not a bad thing."

"maybe not a bad thing to you," you responded, taking a sip of your drink. "i kind of hate it."

natasha gasped, a playful look of shock written all over her face. "nuh uh. don't hate it, it's one of the things that made you stand out to me when we were younger."

you frowned, "what do you mean?"

"i mean you were already beautiful. i found a lot of girls to be beautiful, but they were always so annoying in some way or another. stacy, you remember her? she had a bad habit of interrupting me every single time i went to speak. and abigail? she had a thing for never wanting to date lesbians for some weird reason. and of course there were other things about girls in high school, but there was never anything about you that ever rubbed me the wrong way."

your mind froze, "s-so does that mean you're..."

she smirked once more, "a lesbian? yeah. i don't think anything about me screams 'i love men,' do you?"

"not at all."

after that day you began to feel a little more relaxed around natasha. she texted you more often, always having something planned for the both of you to do.

you weren't 100 percent sure as to what you were to each other. she would flirt a lot, do things that only a girlfriend would do, and yet you still couldn't tell if she was just being friendly. the frustration only made you hate yourself even more.

this went on for a few months until one night when you were with natasha everything came spilling out.

you had your head in her lap as you watched some random movie, her fingers tracing shapes on your side.

you couldn't focus though.

"something on your mind?"

god natasha had grown to read you so easily.

"do you ever wish you weren't the way you are?" her finger movements paused.

"what do you mean?"

"like, you know… do you ever wish you weren't gay?"

"a lesbian?" she corrected. "and no, i don't. not anymore."

"i wish i wasn't sometimes." you whispered so softly natasha almost missed it.

"you can say it, you know. it's not a dirty word. you are not a dirty word."

"i just wish i could be like the rest of the world. i wish i liked men sometimes, i wish i could go on dates with them, i wish i could find myself attracted to them. i wish i didn't feel so alone. why did i have to be the only sexuality that can't like men? it's so infuriating to see everyone else happy and embraced when you're not."

natasha hummed, bringing you closer into her hold ever so slightly. "maybe you're just not meant to like men. maybe you're the way you are because it's what makes you special. being a lesbian isn't and never will be a bad thing. it doesn't matter how many times you get silenced, shoved away or disregarded. being a lesbian is such an ethereal, unforgettable thing. it's something to be celebrated, not changed."

there was a beat of silence before you finally managed to come up with something to say.

"you make me happy to be a lesbian."

"oh?"

"yeah."

"well you should always be happy to be a lesbian."

you sat up from her lap, feeling brave for the first time in your life. "i have something to tell you."

natasha already had an idea of what you were about to say. she'd been waiting for this for awhile now, but she wanted you to figure things out on your own time. she wanted you to be comfortable enough with yourself, and now you're right where you needed to be.

"i've had a crush on you since high school." you admitted shyly.

natasha raised her eyebrow, "are you implying that you still have a crush on me?"

"i am."

"well let me tell you a little something, i like you too." she smirked, fully taking in your nervous state.

"really?"

"i have for awhile. why do you think i told you that stuff when we had coffee all those months ago?"

“i wasn’t sure how to interpret what you were telling me,” you giggled.

natasha’s nodded, letting her eyes dart to your lips. “well it was definitely a hint. can i kiss you now?”

your breath caught in your throat.

“yeah, sure. uh go ahead-”

her lips were softer than you ever imagined them to be. so was the touch of her hands as she cupped your face.

she only deepened the kiss when you opened your mouth, granting the access she craved so dearly.

it wasn’t long before you needed to pull away for air.

“sorry… i haven’t done this in awhile. i’m sure you can tell.”

“no apologies necessary. i enjoyed every second of it.” natasha confirmed, brushing her thumb across your lips.

“me too,” you admitted. “can we do it again? just a little slower this time?”

“of course. we go at your pace, okay?”

“how long have you wanted to kiss me?” you questioned, breath shaky from adrenaline.

“quite some time now, sweetheart.” natasha didn’t hesitate to answer.

you swallowed, “show me then.”

“you got it, kitten.”

[chasing-classics]

Our Little Secret Sessions- Nate Jacobs x Reader (2)

Pairing(s): Nate Jacobs x Reader

  Warning(s): SMUT, language, toxic relationships, older reader, NON-CON

  Summary: After landing a job as the high school’s new counselor you settle into your new home, unaware of what danger lurks just outside your front door. In Part Two, you meet another one of your students, only to be interrupted by the boy next door.

Part 1

 A couple of weeks had passed since your encounter with Nate, but the fear of what the teenage was capable of remained fresh in your mind. You could never forget the dominant, controlling look in his eyes when he had threatened you in your office. Since then, you had been unable to sleep properly and you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder. On the bright side, you had not encountered him face-to-face since that day, but his presence could always be felt never too far away. He was like some sort of predator, a beast lurking in a dense jungle. Eyes sharp and ready to go in for the kill at any moment.

 ‘’Um miss?’’ a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

 You quickly snapped your head up, sitting straight up in your office chair as a young girl stood in the doorway. She was average height for her age, dark hair, glamorous makeup, and full lips. You had seen her walking down the hall a few times, an air of confidence always surrounding her. She reminded you of the girls you hated when you were in high school.

  ‘’I’m so sorry, please come in,’’ you extended your hand, gesturing to one of the empty chairs or the couch in front of your desk. She nodded, shutting the door behind her as she made herself comfortable.

 ‘’I’m sorry, I’m still getting used to everything here. I’m Miss y/l/n,’’ you held out your hand for her to shake. She looked down at it before slowly returning the gesture. Whether she just wasn’t used to people being polite to her or she just didn’t like you, you weren’t sure.

 ‘’Maddy,’’ she replied, her expression unreadable.

 ‘’Well how can I help you Maddy?’’ you offered a kind smile despite her semi-cold attitude.

 Her eyes flickered, searching for the right words to express her thoughts. Your brow furrowed as she visibly struggled.

 ‘’This is a safe place Maddy, whatever you tell me stays between us,’’ you encouraged.

 She bit down on her lip, hands twisting and fumbling in her lap as her leg bounced. Finally, she met your concerned gaze with a sigh.

 ‘’Do you think sexuality is a spectrum?’’ she blurted out.

  The question took you back, it taking everything in your for your mouth to stay shut.

  ‘’Well, in my opinion it certainly can be. There doesn’t necessarily have to be a one-size-fits-all or black and white approach to it. But I really think it depends on you and your preferences-‘’

 ‘’N-no. Not me,’’ she cut you off, still seemingly nervous. You arched a brow, trying to decipher what she was talking about.

 ‘’Is everything ok, Maddy?’’

  ‘’Look there’s this. . .guy who I’m seeing. And I found-‘’

 Knocking on your door made the two of you jump. A lump formed in your throat when the handle twisted and the door opened, revealing none other than Nate fucking Jacobs.

 You quickly cast a glance at Maddy who, for some reason or another, looked almost as petrified as you felt.

 ‘’Oh sorry Miss y/l/n, I didn’t know you were busy,’’ Nate practically hissed out the last word as his gaze fell upon Maddy.

  ‘’Mister Jacobs, I’m with Maddy right now. If you’d like we can schedule a meeting-‘’

 ‘’No! No, it’s ok, miss. I’ll be late for class anyway,’’ Maddy scrambled to collect her bag and rush out the door.

 ‘’I can write you a hallpass,’’ your words jumbled, practically pleading with the girl to stay so that you were not left alone with this sociopath. The smirk on Nate’s face made your blood run cold.

 Maddy murmured a quick ‘’bye’’ before the door shut closed behind Nate’s lanky figure. He scoffed, steadily turning his attention back to you as you shakily stood.

 ‘’You can’t just show up like that. I have a job to do and anyone could-‘’

 ‘’Take your pants off,’’ he abruptly interrupted you.

 A pitiful squeak, similar to that of a puny mouse cornered in a snake pit, escaped your lips as the air left your lungs.

 ‘’What?’’ you felt your heart began to beat faster as Nate took a step towards you after locking your door, sealing your fate.

 ‘’I said, take your pants off. And bend over your desk,’’ his deep voice shook you to your core.

 ‘’Nate, please,’’ you whispered, trying to sum up as much courage and dominance as you could as you stood straight and met his terrifying gaze.

 He didn’t respond as his hands descended on you. One locked itself onto the back of your neck and played with your hair as the other began to roughly grope your breasts through your flimsy shirt. His mouth pressed rough, hearted kissed onto the column of your neck as his breath fanned hot flames onto your soft skin. You felt paralyzed as his grip tightened, you having to bite your lips from crying out.

 You jumped when his large hand made its’ way underneath your shirt and the material of your bra. He easily captured a nipple between his index and middle finger and began to pinch and squeeze and tug on the sensitive bud, expertly rolling it however way he sought fit.

  ‘’L-leave,’’ you whispered. Half of you was praying and the other was making a rather pathetic attempt to reestablish authority over him.

 ‘’If I walk out that door, everyone will know how you slept with a student,’’ he threatened, biting at the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss in pain.

 ‘’I didn’t know!’’ you whimpered, cursing the way your body reacted to both his touch and his voice.

 Your nipples were overstimulated at this point, any rubbing against your bra or touch from Nate’s fingers had you mewling like a helpless kitten. Your knees locked together as you felt the heat expand downward from your arousal.

  ‘’The sooner you give in, the sooner I leave. The less chance you have of someone catching us,’’ he groaned, grinding his thickness into your lower abdomen so you felt what was awaiting you.

  You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as you nervously fumbled with your jeans. Nate all but growled when he saw the delicate lace material that hid your womanhood. His breathing labored and his cock twitched. Since he had last had you he had messed around with Maddy a few times, trying to placate his urges, trying to forget about his attractive new neighbor and school counselor. But something about you, the way you were allured him to you. He found himself craving you, imagining your cries and moans as he thrusted wildly into Maddy. He found himself becoming rougher at the thought of having you once again, all to himself. His little taboo. Today, he found he couldn’t wait any longer and found himself at your office door, ready to continue your secret little sessions.

 By the time your jeans had pooled around your ankles and your underwear shortly followed, your boots providing you with a little more height than usual, Nate grew tired of waiting. He shoved your paperwork, cleverly unhooking your phone in case anyone called, and shoved you down by your neck so that your body was painfully bent over the unforgiving surface.

 Your cheek pressed against the wood of the desk, your eyes searching for anything to focus on as you tried to block out the jingling of his belt and the sound of his zipper being pulled down. You felt the heat of his cock at your entrance as Nate folded himself onto you, his breath hitting your cheek and neck as his toned abs gently grazed your spine and ass.

 ‘’Be quiet,’’ he warned, one massive hand wrapping around your face to cover your mouth. You winced as he spit down onto your spread pussy, using his thumb as makeshift lubricate. He hummed in approval at the feel of your arousal and you didn’t need to face him to know he had a chesire cat grin on his pale face. You could feel him retreat his hips before he lunged forward and sheathed his massive dick into your tight canal. You screamed against his hand, although it was practically just muffled mewls given his tight grip as he began rotating his hips, stretching your tightness to welcome whatever he was about to give you.

 ‘’Shhhh, good girl, look at you taking it like a champ,’’ he mocked as he reluctantly pulled out, only to violently snap forward, your body lunging with his brutal movements.

 Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were ashamed to admit they were in pleasure. The feeling of complete fulness outweighed the pain, but you made a pitiful attempt to reach behind you and shove him back. You yelped as his other hand locked your wrists and pinned them to the small of your back, your body helpless and completely on display as Nate continued his brutal pace. He felt every quiver, every squeeze that your sweet pussy gave him. He nearly came within the first few minutes of being inside of you, but he managed to hold off. The way you squealed under him, your smaller body rocking in tune with his thrusts, and the way your tight pink pussy latched onto him to the point he dragged your body back as he pulled out was nothing that he had ever had before. He pressed more of his weight into you, trying to keep his own grunts and moans quiet as he gripped your face and wrists.

 ‘’So good,’’ he kept repeating in your neck as he hammered into you. The wet noises and sound of his hips violently meeting your backside filled you with fear that someone would come in and catch you. Your squealing and cries slowly transformed into needy moans and whimpers, you faintly acknowledged your juices beginning to drip down your inner thighs and you felt your insides begin to coil.

 ‘’N-Nate,’’ you breathlessly cried against his palm, attempting to suck in as much air through your nose as you could. He bite down on your shoulder, tongue lapping at the faint angry marks, groaning as his pace did not let out. He was impossibly thick and girthy, filling you and hitting your cervix with every ram of his hips. Your hands twitched and knees buckled as his cock began throbbing along your velvet walls. You couldn’t help but squeeze him as your own climax began to form, causing him to hiss against your shoulder.

  ‘’Gonna fill you up, oh fuck,’’ you faintly deciphered him growling out as you were forced to take his thrusts.

 Your clit throbbed almost painfully, knuckles turning lighter as your fists clenched against your back. He abruptly released your wrists, opting to clutch the curve of your hip as he forced your body back to meet his awaiting thrusts, making you cry out every time he angrily entered you. As you cried out with each thrust, he groaned, feeling your release incredibly close. He angled his hips slightly higher and dove in, grinning as he heard your moans, your pussy locking onto his dick as your orgasm coated him. He slowed his pace just to watch the way he glistened from your juices, enjoying the sinful squelching noises you both produced as he shoved himself repeatedly into you, before regaining his violent momentum.

 His grip on you tightened impossibly as you lay limp underneath him, lost in the waves of your release. All you felt was your body being forced back and forth as Nate impaled you onto his angry member. You swore you saw actual stars bouncing around your vision before you were forced back down into reality as he removed his hand from your mouth (finally) and gripped your throat. Through his animalistic movements he angled your face back to meet his in a bruising, possessive kiss as he ensured every inch of him was buried to the hilt inside of you as he shuddered. You groaned as the warmth of his cum filled your abused pussy. He moved against you one last time before slowly pulling you out and stuffing himself back into his jeans and zipping it back up. You winced when you felt a finger trace your lower lips and shove some of his load back into your sore pussy.

 ‘’Get dressed,’’ his voice conveyed his relaxation and his gaze was surprising soft as he helped you stand up.

 You didn’t speak as you redressed, your face still flushed with a postcoital glow. He tucked some of your hair out of your face as his eyes searched yours, his thoughts unreadable. But just as his expression lingered on borderline affection, that cruel teenage-boy smirk reappeared as his hand thumbed the base of your neck in a warning grip.

 ‘’I’m going to need that hall pass.’’

[starks-hero]

I Missed You

Pairing: Stucky x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! Could you write something about Stucky coming home after a mission to find their girl crying on the couch, late at night. They are worried, initially, but relax after she shows them a video on her phone of a cute dog or puppy? - anonymous

Summary: After one long and tiresome mission, Steve and Bucky want nothing more than to go home and cuddle up with their girl.

Word Count: 1,424

Warnings: fluff

Steve and Bucky laboured up the stairs towards their apartment, their shoulders brushing. Every single muscle ached and Steve couldn’t bite back a groan each time he was forced to put pressure on his left foot. 

They didn't say much, they were too tired for conversation. They just wanted to get home, change out of their gear and then crawl into bed with their girl.

As both men reached their door, Bucky all but collapsed against the wall as Steve fumbled with the key, lazily dragging it across the wood till it slipped snugly into the lock.

Bucky's eyes were closed but a tired smile tugged at his lips at the thought of you waiting for them on the other side of the door. He wanted to hold you so bad. To just gather you up in his arms and fall asleep with your hand gently running through his hair until the latest mission was nothing more than a distant memory.

He titled his head lazily and glanced at Steve. The blonde's expression told him he felt the same way.

As the door opened, both soldiers almost tripped over each other's feet as they hurried inside, Steve softly closing the door behind them. Bucky sighed dramatically as he was surrounded by the comforts of home, earning him a half-hearted glare from Steve.

“Quiet down, Buck. It's late.” He reminded him. “She's probably asleep.”

Bucky nodded, scratching at his beard as he followed Steve into the living room. The television was still playing lowly in the background and the boys glanced at each other questioningly. Soft smiles replaced their confused expressions when their eyes landed on the couch. Amidst the darkened room and the heaps of blankets and pillows, they could barely make out your form.

Bucky wasted no time in stepping towards you with Steve hot on his heel. God how they'd missed you.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky hummed gently. “Hope you don't mind that we made it home a little earlier than expected.”

The playfulness in his tone died out immediately as he neared you. The light illuminating from the television proved to be just enough for Bucky to make out your tear-stained cheeks and his heart almost stopped.

“Doll, what happened?” He immediately rushed to your side, hand hovering over your back as he looked you over for any sign of injury. Steve leapt forward at Bucky’s worried tone and joined you both on the couch. You frantically wiped at your eyes, trying to hide your tears as both men seated themselves on either side of you.

“Stevie, Buck-”

“It's alright, Sweetheart. We're here.” Steve comforted gently, arm wrapping around your waist as he carefully guided you into his side. “What's wrong?”

You breathed out a quiet laugh as you wiped away the last of your tears. Both Steve and Bucky were staring at you intently.

“I just missed you both,” you mumbled and you heard the boys breathe a sigh of relief. Bucky moved closer and gingerly kissed your head as Steve held you.

“We missed you too, Baby.” His hand comfortingly ran down your back, his nose grazing your jaw.

Steve placed his own kiss against your cheek and you smiled. You were sandwiched between them both, exactly where you wanted to be.

“You want to tell us what's got you so upset?” Steve urged gently, raising his eyebrows and smiling softly. The same way he always did when either you or Bucky were having a bad day.

You shook your head and waved your hand dismissively. “It's stupid, Steve. Besides, I'm fine now, it doesn't matter.”

“Hey now, don't talk like that. If it's upset you then it's not stupid. Not to us.” Steve's tone was soft and encouraging.

“Steve, I promise, I'm okay.”

Before Steve could pry any further, Bucky cut in, gently nudging you in the side.

“This wouldn't be the reason for those tears, now would it, doll?” He held up your phone for you all to see, the screen still paused on the video you'd been watching before they'd gotten home. Bucky seemed slightly amused but Steve was still staring at the screen in curiosity, confused as to what about such a wholesome video had made you so upset.

You snatched the phone from Bucky's hand and he let you. Any other day he probably would have held said phone just out of your reach, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes or press up against his chest to retrieve it. But he knew better. Now wasn't the time. Not to mention that if he did Steve would probably make him sleep on the couch as punishment.

You held the phone in your hand and refused to meet either of their gazes but Bucky was quick to snap you out of it.

“Y/N, you know you can talk to us. However simple or stupid you may think whatever's upsetting you is, you know we're here to listen.”

“Always.” Steve agreed.

You grumbled before giving in. You knew neither of them were going to leave you alone until they were sure you were okay.

“I've just been feeling down since you guys left for the mission last week.” You confessed and both men glanced at you sympathetically. “I missed you both, tonight especially. So I tried to watch some cute videos to cheer myself up and-” you glared at the adorable shepherd puppies currently gracing the phone screen. “It didn't help.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve started gently once you'd finished. “We told you to call if you needed us. Even just to talk or fall asleep with us on screen.”

“I didn't want to bother you when you were on a mission.” You admitted sheepishly and both men chuckled slightly at your words.

“Mission or not, it doesn't matter. You're our priority. Always.”

Steve released you slightly from his hold so that Bucky could pull you into him. You sighed against his shoulder. The horrid feeling that had settled in your stomach the moment both Steve and Bucky had walked out the door a little over a week ago was already dissipating. This was exactly what you needed. They were exactly what you needed.

“Why don't we take this to the bedroom?” Bucky suggested as he noticed your head contently lulling against his shoulder. He scoffed as both you and Steve turned to him with an expression that asked ‘really?’

“I meant to sleep.” He clarified and Steve couldn't help but chuckle.

“Sure you did, Punk.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but you ended the argument before it could start with a quiet, “Sleep sounds like a good idea.” You threw in a yawn for good measure.

Bucky wordlessly nodded to Steve and they smiled. Bucky readjusted his hold on you as he lifted you from the couch and into his arms.

Steve switched off the television and assured the house was locked down for the night as Bucky carried you to the bedroom. He gingerly placed you down before stripping and clambering in next to you, his aching body almost sinking right into the mattress.

A cool mental hand settled on your waist as you rested your head on his chest. Steve wandered into the bedroom a few minutes later, smiling softly at the sight of you and Bucky curled up and already dozing off.

He kicked off his boots and pants and pulled his shirt off over his head. Sliding in behind you, he slid an arm over you, resting it just over Bucky's stomach. You were perfectly encased in-between them both.

“Steve, Bucky?” You mumbled their names quietly just as they were on the brink of sleep.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” Steve rasped and Bucky hummed against your temple.

“Can we get a dog?”

You could feel the chuckle that shook Bucky's chest at your request and Steve cracked a tired smile, shuffling closer to you.

“Think about it, that way when you two are off saving the world I won't be so lonely here on my own.” You rambled on drowsily.

“She makes a compelling case, Stevie,” Bucky smirked, cracking open an eye to glance over at the blonde. He couldn't keep the amusement from seeping into his tone.

“We'll talk about it in the morning, Baby. Just get some rest for now.” Steve yawned, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to silently put an end to the conversation.

“That's a yes.” Bucky clarified and Steve harmlessly jabbed Bucky in the gut, electing a fond chuckle. You smiled, just glad to have your boys home.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​​ @doozywoozy​​ @bakerstreethound​​ @kealohilani-tepise

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

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