#I swear I got the ice cream in the middle of the night question before

[darkfictionjude]

not from mc cheating! from the hoe phase question

You gotta specific nonnie since I’m currently writing while answering questions

Imre: basically the same answer as before, he’d send someone

Nia: she needs her beauty sleep. She’ll ignore mc and then next morning stock up on ice cream

Lorcan: he’ll go out in the middle of the night if need be

[babygirl-riley]

Oh, My Love

“I had a nightmare…but now i’m not scared.”

How Simon fell in love with you.

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of childhood trauma, little bit of smut, swearing, and violence

Simon never knew what love meant. He never had it growing up, yes his mother loved him he knew that. However, he tried to block out those memories since most of them were about his father. When he beat the fuck out of his father and it was just his mom, brother, sister in law, nephew, and him that’s when love came into play.

His mother and brother were something he would consider close. He would do anything for them go beyond even, take his brother out to the nearest pub, bring his mother flowers, take his nephew to get ice cream. He thought nothing could happen, thought love was a simple thing. But then they were taken. Taken because of his actions. The consequence.

So love was an enemy to him. He tried not to get close with anyone. Stayed yards away from it, he barely went in dates. He would only have night one stands NEVER again. Team mates he would care for only as a superior way, since losing men and women was always the case.

The word love was a poison to him. He could never love. Or be loved. Not for who he was or what he has done. Nothing would change his mind.

…Then you came along. The team celebrated the win of the mission at a pub. Simon felt eyes on him as he looked around he saw a group of women. Typical he would think until you, small and tiny compared to him walked up. The confidence yet shyness did something to him. Amusement? Shock? All he knew was that Simon felt some flutter in his chest when your beautiful eyes looked at you. When you lips would lay still, being plumped.

He would leave with you that night for sure. Fuck you until your body basically needed to rest and he would cum all over your stomach. Usually he would leave it at that, never clean ya up, never sleep there. However the way his name would slip out from your lips when he would hit that right spot. How you would praise him for finishing on you. How you rubbed his back as both of you were exhausted.

He woke up last, noticing a note with a number and name. Yours. The flutter once more.

Couple months go by, your third date. Simon would belittle himself when he kept calling you to go out with him after missions. You would pick up and coy with him, exchanging flirty comments. How your laugh made him smile to himself. Simon would think he was acting like a child but didn’t care at the same time. Third date was the date you moved his mask up to his nose to kiss him.

At first he almost smacked your hand away. Feeling the sweat and his heart beating quickly. His muscles wanting to vibrate but you stopped almost to his lips and smirked. Telling him. “This is where you meet in the middle Manchester.” God the nickname, you knew where he was from, he mentioned it. Why would it make him to his knees? Only the gods know why. He kissed you not passionately. Not fierce. Lovingly.

Once he felt like love was getting too close he put a wall up. Ghost protecting Simon. He ignored your texts and calls for months. Eventually you did stop calling and messaging. That made his mind race. What if you were with someone and it wasn’t him touching you. Calling you. Fucking you. Cuddling you. So he went to your place, flowers in hand, and a page letter to read.

When you opened the door you of course weren’t happy but willing to listen. Everything he wanted to say left his mind. Reciting it was so useless. Instead he told you how he is afraid of losing you if he got too close to you. You didn’t pry. Questioned. Just listened and nodded before you walked around the counter to tell him that you weren’t going anywhere.

When he asked for you to move in with him after a year. He noticed the flutter was turning into more of a flip feeling. Your laugh would make him laugh. His jokes came out more just for him to listen to your laugh. The way you let him get home from deployment and left him alone until he was ready. When the first time he took his mask off in front of you, you said nothing before smiling saying : “Well hello handsome.”

How when Simon felt the first time during sex that he was connected to you. That the sex wasn’t for only pleasure but to feel like he was wanted. Appreciated. Cared for. He didn’t know what it meant. The passionate fucking became more and more. He loved the feeling when you grab his face to place his forehead against yours, looking into his eyes as you came for the fourth time. Or how you would know what spots got him GOING that no one else even him would know. Simon secretly loved when you had him babbling about you pussy as you would overstimulate him. Milking his cock more and more. “You know how to make me feel good.” “Ya can do anything you wan…” “Atta girl making me want more and more.” “Fuck me until I have no more to give.” Those would be the some of the many sentences that would leave his mouth as he panted. NEVER has a woman done that to him.

How he would ACTUALLY laugh as you both would tackle each other on the bed to see who was the strongest of course it’s him but he would let you “win.” Or how you would make a pretty good dad joke. Laugh at something so stupid. The way his chest would be filled, with what he could never know. It would just bring the child that never was able to come out as a kid as you both would throw frosting and flour at each other while baking.

The flip would come back when he would smell his favorite foods, that his mom use to make. He would have made a comment a long time ago and you would remember those small things. How his favorite snack would always be stocked. How his clothes would be folded how he liked them. How when you both would cuddle you would rub the back of his head and hum a lullaby that your mom sang, till he fell asleep. Making him feel safe.

Simon eventually figured out what the feelings he would get was. When he had his first nightmare in front of you, he would be thrashing and screaming. You would lull him awake as he would snap awake and ready to kill. You would rub his back shushing him, trying to get him back down from the adrenaline. Rub the back of his neck and head. He did eventually lay down on your chest, after you told him to listen to your heart. That you are real. Simon cried, the first time as well, silently at first until it turned to sobs. You shushed soothingly as you played with the back of his hair. “It’s okay.” “You’re safe.” You would mumble and then the one line you said that stopped his crying was “You are loved Si.”

Simon would tense, having you think that you messed up. Simon looked up to your face before reaching up to your cheek. After all these years. Decades. He finally found someone he truly cares for. All those feelings led to this moment. He smiled having all the pain from the nightmare be left behind.

This is love. He slowly fell in love with someone he never thought he deserved. Fuck how he missed it. How he missed the feeling of someone loving him. He missed loving someone else. His best friend. His soulmate if he wanted to get mushy.

He inhaled deeply before saying that sentence. That would make everything become real. “I love you too.” He would whisper and not be scared that you would disappear.

[g1rld1ary]

lamest place in the world - trevor spengler x reader

wc: 835

cw: smoking, drinking, swearing kissing, trevor and r are implied slightly aged up because i want them to be but has no impact on plot, please don't get in the car with a boy you've just met xx

Summerville, despite the name's associations, was the lamest place in the world. Certainly not the endless summer paradise that was suggested on the tin. There wasn't much to do over the summer except go to work, sleep, or fuck around in one of the many dumb fields around. It wasn't even a farming town anymore, why were there still so many goddamn fields?

You were in Walmart, preparing for a quiet night in. A pint of ice cream, a face mask, some new nail polish; you were all set.

"No way, I, um, love that stuff," A voice said from next to you. You chanced a glance at the boy next to you, towering over the shelf and all gangly limbs.

"You love nail polish?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy cringed, caught in his own ruse and exposed by his obviously untouched nails.

"I just mean, uh--"

"You just wanted a reason to talk to me?" The boy nodded, seemingly resigned to his awful failure. To his surprise, you introduced yourself instead. You figured he was new to the town, and couldn't be any worse than the people you already knew. "What are you doing tonight?"

An hour later Trevor was in your car, driving you both out to the outskirts of town. He'd begged you to let him drive, apparently he'd never been allowed or something where he lived, and you figured your ancient piece-of-shit car could handle one more reckless driver.

You turned the speaker all the way up, blasting whatever tape you'd last put into it. You hung out the passenger window, singing along as Trevor raced down the empty dirt roads.

The car was parked in the middle of another field. Far off in the distance, you could see a few artificial lights, but other than that you were alone.

"Why'd you come to Summerville?" You asked Trevor once you'd shifted positions so you were both on the hood of your car, staring up at the dark night sky.

"My mom's broke," He replied, "We got evicted from our apartment and all we've got left is that stupid horror movie house and a bunch of old dusty shit inside."

"Shit," You agreed, coming up with an idea, "You want one?" You offered him a cigarette from the packet inside your jacket.

"I, uh, haven't smoked before," He said sheepishly.

"Neither have I. Cigarettes are stupid hard to come by here, they're only sold at one place and he's tough on kids. These're my brothers from college." You brandished a lighter, hot pink that you assured your mom was just for candles, and got to work.

You counted down together, inhaling in sync. You both choked out coughs and splutters, laughing at each other's embarrassing moments. You stumbled through the process, giving each other advice on how to do it properly despite both of you making it up on the spot.

You figured it out soon enough, and fell into a peaceful quiet, listening to the cicadas and rustling grass.

"Do you hate it here?" Trevor asked to break the silence and you looked at him, considering the question.

"I used to a lot more, I think. I used to be so fucking angry that this was the lot I was given. I've grown up a lot now, make my own fun, and it's not so bad anymore. Now I only hate it every other day," You joked, uncomfortable with the serious conversation. Thankfully Trevor laughed and you were back to more playful conversation.

You'd been out there for hours, burning through a few cigarettes and whatever booze you had stashed in the trunk.

"It's not funny, Trev, we were in deep shit--"

"What'd you call me?"

"Trev? Is that not alright--"

"No, no I liked it. Really liked it." You look over at him, were you always this close? You could feel his breath on your face, hot even in the summer air.

You think you were the one to kiss him first, but it honestly could've been either of you. Something in the air between you was electric, pushing you towards the boy you'd only just met.

The kiss was kind of awkward at first, both of you craning your necks from your position on your backs. Trevor was the one to move, pulling himself on top of you and framing your face with his forearms. He tasted like a bizarre mix of cigarettes and beer but it didn't repel you, rather encouraging you to open your mouth for him, the two of you getting even closer. You explored his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle in his curls, pulling on them slightly and giggling into his open mouth when he moaned.

Maybe Summerville wasn't all boring, and you were pretty sure you'd just sorted out your summer plans.

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Alex: the f in frog stands for friendship!

Celeste: the r in frog stands for respect!

Newtwo: the o in frog stands for optimism!

Grown Up Aliza: THE G STANDS FOR GAAAAYYYYY~!

✨Random Quotes From The Fam✨

Let's get this show up on the road!

Adam: do you want something to eat?

MEMORY: THE SOULS OF THE INNOCENT!

Mewtwo: a bagel.

MEMORY: NO!

Mewtwo: two bagels.

.

Adam: guess who's gonna get a couch to fit inside the garage with no help even though it's too big to fit?

Adam: guess who managed to fit an entire couch in the house?

Mewtwo: bottoms always find a way.

Adam: I'M SCREAMING.

.

(@flake-n-rudy I COULDN'T RESIST MAKING THIS AN INCORRECT QUOTE IT'S JUST TOO GOOD)

Adam: *thinking about something that kinda distresses him, when suddenly-*

Adam, who bumped onto Newt, getting his face covered in her fur somehow: PFJFYFTFFFJTPDHHTHHFF-

Adam: SWEET ARCEUS WHO STANDS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DRIVEWAY?!

Adam: DAMN YA ASS FAT AS FUCK AND NOW I GOT FUR ON MY EYE.

Adam: WHAT'S YO PRONOUNS SO I CAN INSULT YOU PROPERLY.

Newtwo: goodness gracious-

.

Mewtwo: behold! A ceremonial fungal mask!

Adam: do you know the mushroom man?

Mew: I'D PREFER NOT TO KNOW THE MUSHROOM MAN.

Mewtwo: perhaps he wants to know you.

.

Goh: i love fat cats that get picked up and look kind of alarmed about it as if their magnificent girth could have prevented this sort of injustice.

Mewtwo, picked up by Ash: HOW THEY LIFT ME WHEN I AM

LORGE.

.

Adam: ladies, if he's:

tall

hairy

shredded

has glowing cyan eyes

and is widely considered to be a bad omen due to having been reportedly sighted shortly before the collapse of the silver bridge in point pleasant, west virginia, in 1967.

that's not your man, that's mewman.

Adam: or, if you have taste: that is your man, mewman.

.

Mewtwo, the next day: so last night something possessed me to get up from my bed and write all of this in the notepad.

"hey diddle diddle the dog's on the bass"

"and the bastard in the backrooms rots"

"dance with the devil and step on his toes"

"it's not murder if you don't get caught"

Adam: *literally drew this*

.

Mewtwo: we're all gonna be fine, as long as nobody teleports any bread!

Adam: i have a question!

Mewtwo: what's your question, Adam?

Adam: i teleported bread!

Mewtwo:

Mewtwo: how. much.

Adam: i have done nothing but teleport bread for 3 days!

Celeste: WHERE. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN SENDING IT?!

.

MEMORY: feelings? You know who have feelings, mate? People who beat their wives up with a gold trophy.

MEMORY: professionals have standards.

MEMORY: be polite, be efficient.

MEMORY: and have a plan to kill everyone you need.

.

Adam: i like the Allay, it's cute and has plenty of uses.

Adam: like- you can just send one out, they'll go get something and it'll come back with even more of it!

Adam:

Adam: where's my can of whoopass?

Allay: death

Adam: WO-

(source: Ice Cream Sandwich, "unorganized minecraft thoughts", Youtube)

.

Mewtwo: This made me so fucking angry I have to inflict it on all of you.

Newtwo: what’s the punchline here

Newtwo: wait

Newtwo:

.

Pig: Huey if you don't move right this second i swear to Arceus i will slap you.

Huey: but i told you! It's not my FAULT!

Pig: that's it- *SMACC*

Huey: OWWW MY NOSEEE-

Pig: DING DONG THE DUMBASS IS DEAD.

Huey: SHUT UP-

(source: Nominal Dingus, "Saying a lot of things as Ennard", Youtube)

[remyfire]

"I'll raise."

"Getting too rich for my blood," BJ murmurs, tossing a couple of chips into the pot. "I'll call. Sweetheart?"

"Sorry, what does raise mean again?" She winces, teeth toying at her lower lip sheepishly. Perfectly playing her part as BJ plays his. They had done this before, one night with Hawk and the brunette at Peggy's other side had requested an encore.

"You gotta put in another fifty cents like Trap did, or bump it up another quarter or more," Hawkeye supplies, managing a decent poker face himself.

Peg pretends to think for a moment, tongue running along the outside of her teeth behind her lips before she tosses her bet in. "Alright! I'll raise you another dollar!"

"You sure about that, Peg?" Hawkeye questions, eyes flashing with concern even as she nods.

"I'm not a fan out takin' money outta kiss's mouths but if you're sure," Trapper smirks, calling her bet.

"I fold," Beej remakes easily, sitting his cards down and propping an arm on the table to rest his cheek in his palm.

"It's all yours, Peggy," Hawk concedes, his amusement starting to shine through. Hopefully able to be masked as eagerness for Trap to show off.

"Flush!" Trapper announces, spreading his cards on the table.

Peg, for her part deflates a little, shoulders sagging in seeming defeat. "Dammit," she swears. "I think you win, Trap. All I have is a full house." Only when cards on the table, literally and metaphorically, does Peg let the poker face fall away into a cheeky, mischievous smirk of her own.

(this is just 2,500 words of self-indulgent complicated polyam configurations, thanks @lattehearted)

It's not a bad gig, what Hawk's got set up here. Yeah, sure, maybe he hadn't exactly caught Trap up on the specifics of why the hell he was even in California in the first place, but given how they last parted, that's all but expected at this point—the unspoken threat that if Trap is gonna pull the shit he did when he walked off on Hawk again, then that's it, and no two-years-late letter's gonna save him again.

The hosts were, ah...notably chilly as fuck when Trap first arrived, but...well, it's been a month now, and at least one of them has thawed significantly. Peg's sweet, practically an angel. There's more bravery in her pinkie than half the guys he's been shoulder to shoulder with in wars. He doesn't know what kind of saint's got a heart that'll let her husband come home with a man when she's been raising a kid solo for two years nor who'd let a perfect stranger waltz into her home to try and fix the mistake he made years ago.

She's cute. She's sweet. She makes it safe for Trap to let his guard down as he sinks back under Hawk's skin more and more. And by spending time with him over tea or scotch or ice cream—the last one shared by Erin, of course—she makes it way fucking less frustrating for him to learn how to share. After all, Hawk was already reacclimating to civilian life with his pretty boy toy before Trap even bit back his pride and sent his letter to Maine in the first place. And said boy toy's shown no particular desire to let Trapper be alone with Hawkeye any longer than he has to. Compassion for a guy finally shoving down all that old fear of his own desires? Nah, no, get in line, pal, he might as well say, like he doesn't have a perfect wife to attend to as well.

At this rate, he's pretty sure the big guy's never gonna give him more than an inch. But that's fine. They can be civil. And if BJ happens to be so busy with Hawk every night, then...

Well, Trap's certainly no stranger to chasing a wife, even if her husband's grumbling about it.

It's been a long hour of poker so far. Trap's up a little, Hawk's up a lot, BJ's middling, and Peg's only got her last chips. It almost makes him feel bad to take her down to next to nothing. One more hand, she's gonna have to go all in, and once the chips are gone, if she wants to keep playing, then...

Down, boy. Trapper knows a shy girl when he sees one. She's got it written all over her face. It's been there this whole game while she's been struggling to learn. Last thing he wants to do is scare her off with his filthy mouth when the chase is half the fun.

He's actually feeling pretty damn cocky when he spreads out his flush. He's ready to gently remind Peg that the best way to learn to play the game is to lose the hardest—and then he sees the delicate way she skims those cards onto the table, as though she's all too intimately familiar with the feel of them in her hands, and something...sinks in, way, way down deep.

The sparkle in her eyes. The curl of her adorable nose. The way her teeth gleam in the light like a predator. She leans forward ever so slightly, elbows on the table, as though she's trying to drink in his reaction for a very specific reason.

It's been a long, long time since he's been hustled quite so elegantly. And he forgot exactly how quickly it can start an bonfire inside him.

Trap slowly lifts his brows as he stares her back down. "Y'know, Hawk, I think we might've just been hustled."

"I think you might be right, Trap," he drawls right back, fast as a bullet, his timbre as dark and rich as Trapper's ever heard it. "Look at her. She thought she could get away with it."

"Thought there wouldn't be consequences." Trap sets his chin on his fists as his lips start to quirk.

"Thought that just because she was cute, she could rob you down to nothing and just waltz away, unscathed."

Trapper takes a second to flick his gaze to Hawkeye. "That only works for you."

Hawk bats his lashes, those sleepy blue eyes more than a little inviting. He doesn't take his gaze off Trapper, not even when Trap looks back at the little blonde pixie across from him.

"Dunno if you know this, sweetheart, but most people don't take too good to being hustled." Every muscle in Trap's body is coiled, holding him down in his chair. This ain't no nurse he can just pull across the table and kiss the life out of. If he takes a step forward, he's gotta make sure she's not taking one further back. "You've gotta pay your dues. Make it up to me."

Peg pushes her lips out into a frankly impressive pout, dipping her head so her hair falls more in her face. "Well...I'd certainly hate to let you go home empty-handed after I just cleaned you out of so much." It's only the breathy edge of her tone that tickles across Trapper's skin, whispers that she didn't just take one step forward, but two. "Tell me, John. How do I make it up to you?"

It's like missiles go off in his legs, filling them with explosive energy. He shoves back from the table with a grin and starts to stand. "How 'bout I show you?"

A house-slipper-covered foot shoots out, propping loudly on the edge of the chair between Trap's thighs, and he drops back down in surprise and locks eyes with BJ Hunnicutt himself. The man's almost languidly leaned back in his own seat, but Trapper's gotten into enough trouble on the streets of Boston as a kid to know what it looks like when someone's looking for a reason to fight. Not even the smooth smile that plays across BJ's face can make him look any less lethal.

"Please, she's my wife." BJ's voice is deceptively bright. "Whatever she's totaled up, just put it on my tab."

Trap's eyebrows lift. It's not enough for BJ to keep the boyfriend all to himself. No, he's gonna step in and block off his wife too when she's all but giving Trapper the bedroom eyes? He can't help but let out a little huff of a laugh. "Hey, now, don't put other people's things on credit if you're not gonna pay it back, pal."

BJ's lips spread just a bit further—"Oh, not the smirk, Beej," Hawk murmurs from the other side of the table—and he chuckles as well. "You came here for one thing, McIntyre. I don't believe running up a credit line on everybody else was part of that."

"For the record," Peg perks up, "I'm perfectly happy helping to balance the ledgers, Beej. You never minded how I handled the finances before."

BJ doesn't take his eyes off Trapper, but he does flare his nostrils, and a hint of color travels down his long throat as he takes a deep breath. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

"Why the fuck are we all talking in metaphors? What is this, Intro to Lit?" Hawk whispers to Peg. She pats his hand.

It's a tough choice. Hunnicutt here's throwing down a wall around his pretty little wife, brick by brick, but he's going slow. He's not snarling, not running Trapper off. He's clearly hearing every damn word his wife says. But when Trap shifts in the chair, he also sees those hackles go up just slightly, the goading temptation for Trap to see what happens if he chooses Peg's invitation over BJ's claim.

Something tells him he's got a lot more to figure out about how this couple prefers to operate.

"Oy," Hawk mumbles, then stands. He wanders around behind Trapper, fingers trailing little sparks of fire right across his back, and that same hand drifts down Trap's shoulder, his bicep, all the way to where he can snag BJ by the knee. He tugs, bringing the leg back down to the floor, the slipper trailing down the inside of Trapper's thigh as it does.

As BJ's foot hits the ground, Hawk throws a slim leg around his waist and straddles him. "You're trapped now. Oops."

"Am I?" Beej drawls.

"Mm-hmm." Hawk brushes their noses together with a smirk as he wraps his arms around BJ's neck. "It's really a shame."

"I should've known you'd be in cahoots."

"Who, me and your wife? Yeah." Hawk nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, sounds about right."

This time when Trapper gets up, BJ only follows him with his gaze rather than a physical barrier.

He circles the table and leans down until he's on a level with Peg. This close, her wide eyes are pools, so fucking dangerous to toe the edge of. He knows what he could fuck up right here in the name of fun. He knows his body, his mind, his heart. The pale skin on his left ring finger still hasn't started to tan to match the rest of him. If he's not careful, if he actually lets himself fall for her...

Trapper lightly taps her chin with his index finger, tipping her head back so they're closer still. "Feeling brave, soldier?"

He can hear the nervous anticipation in the shivery breath she takes. But to her credit, she doesn't so much as flinch. "Are you?"

His grin widens. Yeah, no, he's fucked. Completely and utterly.

He scoops her up without another hesitation and starts carrying her into the living room. "C'mon. If I'm gonna kiss you, I'll keep your modesty intact by taking you away from the audience."

Peg giggles as she tightens her thighs around his waist. She's got fucking strong legs. It makes a man's mind wander. "You know, from all the stories I've heard about you, I never would've pinned you as someone who gave a damn about a woman's modesty."

"You calling me a cad?" he teases, lifting his brow.

Fun as the banter's been, the unfamiliarity between them rises up. Peg's jaw drops. "Oh, o-oh, no, I wouldn't do that—"

"No, you can, it's true." Trap tumbles back on the couch with her on top of him, then knits a hand around the back of her neck to coax her down. "Call me whatever you want, sweetheart. Just kiss me first."

As Peg sinks her fingers into his curls and his lips meet hers, a wave rushes through him. It's funny. He's fantasized about exactly this for at least two weeks, ever since their first little walk to the park together with Erin in her stroller while the boys took some time to themselves. He just hadn't anticipated that only the taste of her sweet mouth was going to be enough to satisfy him. He could do this—just this—for hours and not get sick of it.

She lifts away just an inch, watching him with a silent question in her eyes, and he answers it by pulling her down to drown with him.

In the other room, BJ leans his chair as far backward as he can, trying to catch a peek at what might be happening, and Hawk chuckles as he tugs him by the shirt collar to look at him again. "You're so jealous, you're about to paint the whole kitchen green."

"I'm not jealous," Beej corrects him with smooth confidence in his own lie. "I am simply making sure that your boyfriend knows how to be a gentleman."

"And what if Peggy doesn't want a gentleman right now, huh?"

It really doesn't take much to call up an image of someone as strong and self-assured as McIntyre pinning down Beej's petite wife, hands around her wrists, making her plead for whatever she wants. Hickeys on her neck. Fingerprints on her forearms. He takes what must be his hundredth huge breath for the evening, but it does nothing to cool the lava storm in his chest. He doesn't yet have appropriate words for the possessive need to reclaim her like he wants. If she begs McIntyre to cover her with his marks, then BJ will have a lovely time plastering over all of them with his own.

Hawk rocks back in his lap and Beej holds him still with his hands on his hips. But it's too late. Hawk's felt the lift of interest in Beej's pants and he's damn well smug about it. "Ohoho," he breathes right against Beej's lips. "You're gonna absolutely ruin her tonight, aren't you?"

"If she'd like." He manages to keep his tone perfectly measured.

"Oh, yeah, Miss Flutters-Her-Eyelashes, friend of every bartender, waiter, handyman, and pool boy in the state, no, yeah, this is the one night she's gonna throw you in the cold shower." But barely before Hawk's even done talking, BJ leans to look again, and Hawk catches him by the cheek and presses their foreheads together. "C'mon. Let her have a little fun." He wiggles. "And let me have mine too."

Beej snorts, but as he slides his arms around Hawk's slim waist, he seems to be relenting. "You're just distracting me so your boyfriend and your girlfriend can neck for a while."

"I'm distracting you because it means I get to have the matinee performance all to myself so I can be in the audience for the grand finale tonight." He sinks his teeth into BJ's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, fueled by the rough groan that Beej feeds him. "Whaddya say, huh?"

Beej gives him one long, dangerous stare before he stands and pushes Hawk down on the poker table, scattering cards and chips everywhere. "I say let's raise the curtain."

Hawk throws his head back with an indulgent, self-satisfied smirk as Beej slots their hips together and starts sucking a bite of his own into Hawkeye's neck. He gets the distinct feeling that he's being reclaimed too—and he's really not mad about it. His boyfriends will figure their shit out one day. Until then, he's more than happy to be the spoils of their war.

[biisexualemma]

boys ain't shit. oscar diaz

word count: 2.2k

warnings: swearing, lots of just angst and angry feminist energy and if this doesn't align with your beliefs, feel free to leave!

requested: 'Hey!! First I want to say that you are an amazing writer so talented! So I was wondering if I could request and imagine with spookyxreader and she overhears Oscar speaking about her or something like maybe she is to clingy or anything you think will fit and then she sort of starts to leave him alone does t opposite of what she heard he doesn't like drifts a little he sees the change questions her and she tells him why- and so angst to fluff If you hate please disregard And thanks anyway ❤️'

a/n: thank you for this lovely request, i only apologise that it took me so long to write! but i'm also glad it did because i kept re-writing this over and over again and it never came out right, but i really love this version! i changed it slightly from the request lol i was listening to 'your power' by billie eilish on a loop while writing this and a lot of anger and preaching came out-- oop-- but also not mad about it. i really like this and hope you do too! enjoy 🤍

on my block masterlist / main masterlist

anger bubbled in your chest but your cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment. your stomach lurched, a mixture of emotions swirling through you. you were angry at him for being such an asshole, but mostly you were embarrassed that you'd found yourself in this position and hurt that he would think to treat you like this. he was an asshole, he always had been, you knew it before you started dating but, somehow, he still managed to worm his way in. mainly because when you were alone he was careful, and sweet, and kind. he cared about you, he told you any chance he got, and you believed him. you were always convinced he meant everything he said, which is why this stung all the more.

"nah, it ain't even like that— she's everywhere man, how you s'posed to shake a hyna like that?" their laughter rang through your ears as you stood, feet frozen in place, out of sight to them. "shit's ridiculous. she's always on top of me."

"man— if i had a hyna that fine on top o' me all the time—"

"the things i'd do—"

you shook your head, blocking out their vulgar comments and trying to rid of oscar's shrewd laughter filling your ears. you were sick to your stomach hearing him talk about you like that, to hear him encouraging his friends crude jokes about you.

you couldn't stop yourself as the small scoff left your lips, catching one of the boys' attention. sad eyes, his smile faltering when he spotted you tucked around the side of the house, listening to every word. "shit," you heard him mumble, nudging oscar whose back was facing you.

oscar always had a thing about keeping up his reputation, which you understood, to some extent, but this had nothing to do with that. this was his friends, talking about you as if you were an object to satisfy their needs. and he was encouraging them. this was you they were talking about, when he claimed to love you.

this wasn't a side to oscar you ever wanted to see, or believe existed. you knew how his friends could be, but to hear him condoning the shit coming out of his friends mouths, made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable.

not to even mention that he was being downright mean, and sleazy in talking about you. you could feel your anger growing the longer you stood there. oscar glanced over his shoulder, his face falling when his eyes met yours. your hands clenched into fists, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

you shook your head, finally knocked out of your state of shock, turning and stomping away from the group of santos. your breathing grew heavier, sweat dripping off you as the sweltering heat started to get to you. you were so angry you could cry. you trusted oscar with everything, it took you a long time to get to that point, and this is how he treated you.

you could hear his muffled calls from behind you getting louder as you continued to march away from the house. you yanked your wrist away when you felt his hand latch onto you, and carried on your walk home.

he sped up, jogging so he stopped dead in front of you, holding out his hands when you tried to manoeuvre around him. "i don't wanna talk to you right now," you spoke calmly, trying again to move past him, his hands latching onto your shoulders to keep you still.

"just— hang on will you—"

you shook your head repeatedly. "no—"

"i don't know what you heard but—" his grip tightened when you tried to wriggle free.

"no," you repeated harsher.

"y/n— c'mon— that was nothing—"

"oscar," you raised your voice, cutting off his ramblings. his eyes never left your face, his eyebrows unknitting when your frown deepened. he scrunched his eyes shut for a second, frustrated he'd upset you. he was annoyed with himself for being so stupid. "no," you repeated once more. his hands slowly released their grip on you, letting you walk passed him. you heard his curse under his breath, walking away from him.

you felt your lip quiver, a lump now growing in your throat as your anger turned into heartache. you weren't sure you wanted to forgive him. but, for now at least, you were going to give him exactly what he wanted. space.

-

hours later and you were stood in the middle of a crowded party, your teeth clenched around the rim of a red solo cup, biting nervously. you hadn't wanted to come, you would much rather have been at home with a pint of ice cream. but your friend convinced you that getting out of the house tonight would be better for you than wasting away your life thinking about boys and eating ice cream. so far, you weren't so sure she was right.

you'd lost count the amount of times you'd heard loosen up and, you should smile more, thrown at you tonight. you weren't in the right headspace to be surrounded by people who were drunk out of their mind, constantly telling you to cheer up. you wanted to shout out to the entire party, fuck off, so everyone would know to just leave you alone.

so when you spotted his familiar face across the room, having just entered the party, you almost lost it. "no," you muttered to yourself. "not happening," you shook your head. he had been exactly what you came here to get away from. you let out frustrated sigh, shoving your cup into your friends hand and pushing yourself out of the crowd of people.

you hoped to god that oscar hadn't spotted you. you could not hash this out with him right now, that pint of ice cream in your freezer at home was calling your name, and you were ready to claim it.

"fuck me," you felt a hand graze the small of your back. you shivered away from the unwanted touch, turning with a deep-set frown on your face, towards the stranger who'd touched you. "you're hot when you're angry like that—"

"i'm also a fucking psycho when i'm angry so back off," you spat harshly, pushing away the hand he held lingering on your skin. "and don't touch me again," the man backed up, his hands held up in front of him. you huffed, continuing to the exit.

you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cool night air hit your bare skin. you'd left your jacket inside, turning to retrieve it, you saw oscar walking right at you. deciding it wasn't worth the effort, you left, you'd rather freeze than have a conversation with him right now.

"i know you hate me," you heard him call from behind you, his pace quickening as he tried to catch up with you. "but you can't walk home by yourself."

you ignored him, hastening your walk so you didn't have to do this with him. you knew he was right, you knew how incautious you were being walking home late at night alone. but you also desperately wanted nothing to do with him right now.

"ma," you shook your head, trying not to lose it on him in the middle of the street. "c'mon—"

"no— you c'mon oscar," you halted your stride, not able to ignore him any longer. you might as well get it out of your system if he was going to keep persisting. "i have had it with men today. i never wanted to have to include you in that."

he ducked his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows you noticed now you'd stopped to look over him. his eyes rolled, letting out a heavy sigh he'd clearly been holding in for a while.

"c'mon," he tilted his gaze away from yours for a second, trying not to cave under your stare. "you know what the santos are like— it's not my job to keep 'em in check."

"it is when it's me they're talking about," you gritted your teeth, looking at him in disbelief. you'd expected that this was how the conversation was going to go down. which is exactly why you tried to avoid it, you simply didn't have the energy to stand here and explain basic human decency to him. "not to mention— it is literally your job. you run the santos."

"it's not that simple," he ran his hand over his face, taking a small step closer to you. his eyes meeting with yours, begging you not to run off again as he held out a cautious hand towards you. "they didn't mean anythin' by what they said— you think if they did i'd let them 'in an inch of you?"

"you're perpetuating a violent cycle of sexism and objectification by letting your friends talk about any girl like that," you felt your throat tighten, tears had, at some point, welled in your eyes. "and that's not even mentioning what you said about me."

he closed his eyes for a second, his hand dropping back to his side. he turned away from you for a moment, releasing a deep breath he'd been holding. "i didn't mean it," he shook his head, swinging round to face you again. his brown eyes, that you'd always been a sucker for, were literally boring into you. if you hadn't been so angry you would've done anything for him. "i wasn't thinking and i never thought you'd ever hear—"

"that makes it ok then?" you frowned, eyes narrowing at him. "god knows what else you've said about me when i haven't been around to hear it," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep up your appearance despite the tears threatening to fall.

"s'not what i meant," he threw is arms up in frustration. he had, in all honesty, been talking without thinking about what he was saying. he was tired and stressed about how stretched out his time was at the moment. he was taking on more and more work, and therefore, more and more stress and he wasn't dealing with it well. he clenched his jaw when you sniffled, wiping under your nose with the back of your hand. his eyelids drooped. "nena.."

"i just, don't get it," you let out a shaky breath, holding out your hands to stop him moving any closer to you. "if i was being too much, all you had to do was say."

his chest tightened hearing you talk about yourself like that. he shook his head, trying again to reach out to you but you only stepped further away. "you're not too much," he spoke quieter this time. oscar loved you, more than he'd ever loved a girl before, that much was true. he might be bad at showing it sometimes, maybe he let his frustration get the better of him a lot, and maybe he didn't simply tell you enough how much you meant to him. but he loved you, much more than you were aware of.

"then why would you say it?" your voice was soft, breaking when you spoke again. exhaustion was starting to get the better of the both of you. you didn't want to fight with him, you just couldn't get his words out of your head. why would he say it if he didn't mean it?

"it's not you," he reiterated, his lips pursed. he used his forefinger and thumb to unknit the crease between his brows. "it's everything else. with cesar fucking around, shit with the prophets, cuchillos— and then you," he ducked his head, pressing the palm of his hand into his forehead. "i don't know how to manage everything and make time for you."

"why didn't you just tell me?" your features softened, eyes watching him move under your stare. "it's what i'm here for."

he scrunched up his nose, shrugging. "i don't want you involved in santos business," you understood more than you did five minutes ago, but you were still holding yourself back.

"i'm already involved, oscar, it's too late for that," this caught his attention, his brown eyes focused on yours again. you weakened a little. "but if you would just talk to me instead of keeping everything to yourself, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

he nodded faintly, almost uncertain of where you were taking this conversation. last thing he wanted was to lose you because of something so stupid on his end. he reached out, you letting him come close enough now so he could take hold of your hands in his. he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, tugging you closer.

"you know, i love you," you mumbled now he was only inches away from you. "i don't wanna do this again so talk to me, please."

he nodded again, giving your hand another squeeze of reassurance. "i'll try," the way his brown eyes stuck to you made you believe he meant what he said. "i'll do better. promise. i'll keep the santos in check, too. you don't need to worry."

you sunk into his chest, letting him engulf you in a tight hug. you released a shaky breath of relief. his arms wrapped around you, your face squashed against his chest and your arms tightened around his torso. "love you, too, by the way," he mumbled, his mouth pressed into your head of hair. "so much."

[finelinevogue]

Can we get some more brother!harry?

I really enjoyed your piece where he caught her smoking ❤️

of course you can!! (rip if your name is natalia) hope this is what you wanted;

Natalia.

Beautiful name to juxtapose a horrible excuse of a human being.

Harry was never that great when it came to choosing his girlfriends, but this one was by far the worst. Bekka had been bad, because she had been cheating on Harry with her best friends dad. India was just so toxic, to the point where she’d ask Harry why he wasn’t mad with her over the most trivial things as if she wanted him to be mad. Daya was ok, but she wanted different things to what Harry wanted and so they ended up in a massive argument and ending things quicker than they started. Natalia though, wow. She was something else and that wasn’t a compliment.

You don’t know whether it was just because she targeted you especially, but she was just a downright cruel person. You could easily tell her intentions with your brother were not good. She was a plain ol’ gold digger, evident from the credit card that Harry leant her and she spent so much on it the bank had to call Harry to ask him to authorise that he was aware of the amount of money being spent. She bought a car with his card. A fucking car. Harry was too blinded by her beauty and her experience that he was oblivious to her witchy behaviour towards you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell him either, it was more that he didn’t care enough.

“No Harry. No.” You argued with him, standing in the middle of the kitchen as he was busy washing the rest of the dishes in the sink. It was just the two of you home at the moment, because Gemma and Anne were spending the weekend at an exclusive spa in Cheshire, so you didn’t understand how there were so many dishes.

“Y/N, it’s not an option. You’re not staying at home by yourself.” Harry spoke sternly back to you, letting out his frustration by vigorously scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m literally 17 - 18 in like 3 weeks. I’m more than capable of staying home.” You stomped your foot to the ground like a child.

“And I don’t care. You’re coming to lunch whether you want to or not.” Harry finished the last plate and dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, before throwing it over to you.

“But she’ll be there.”

“She’s my girlfriend, so you’ll nice to her.”

“If she’s nice to me, then yeah.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the sink to start drying the dishes that Harry just cleaned.

“ Y/N, I swear to God.” Harry groaned in frustration, tugging a stressful hand through his hair. “Can you at least pretend to be happy for me for once?”

“Gee Harry, i’m just so happy to be going out to lunch with you and your girlfriend!” You put on the biggest grin as your sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue.

“Stop being a spoilt little shit and finish those dishes. We’re leaving in 20.” Harry spoke harshly, before leaving the room with a heavy strop to his step. It left you to blink back the tears that you couldn’t help that Natalia was ruining your whole relationship with your brother.

You and Harry used to be so tight nit, now it would be a miracle if he spent a day with you per month. Natalia had come along 5 months ago and she had completely turned Harry’s life around for the worst, only Harry was too ignorant to see that. Anne had come home multiple times to find you crying because Harry had cancelled on you, again, or Natalia had said something that had really hurt. Normally you were okay with taking hate, but Natalia made it somehow worse than that. Even if Anne or Gemma tried to talk Harry about the damage all this was causing you it would always be the same response;

“She just wants attention.”

The restaurant was very pretty.

It was one that you and Harry used to go to all the time, when there was no girlfriend around. It sold the best pastries and life-changing eggs on toast. The food was always delicious and the staff were so completely lovely. You were glad to be coming here, making you feel more comfortable than you would if you went to a expensive fancy restaurant instead. This little restaurant, named ‘Lemon Puffs’ after their infamous lemon, cream and pastry puffs, made you feel safe and happy.

“Remember to just be nice.” Harry spoke as you both approached the table that Natalia was already sat at. She was too busy on her phone to realise you were even here.

“If she plays nice then yeah.” You bit back.

“Y/N just stop being petty, y’pissing me off now.” Harry argued. “Whine like a bitch later. I don’t need it today.”

You stopped talking after that, not having anything else to say to him. He’d made it very clear that you were only here because he didn’t trust you at home by yourself, but by the same token wanted you quiet because he didn’t trust you enough to speak nicely. Harry hugged and kissed Natalia like he hadn’t just seen her last night and then sat down opposite to her, leaving you to sit next to Harry because you sure as hell weren’t sitting next to her. Natalia didn’t even make the effort to hug you or shake hands, in fact you barely got a simple hello.

“You alright, baby?” Natalia asked, twirling her hand into Harry’s from across the table. Disgusting.

“Yeah i’m good. This one’s a pain in my arse, as always.” Even with his joking tone, you knew he was being somewhat serious and that really messed with you.

“Typical.” Natalia rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue, not hesitating to use the opportunity to be mean to you. Harry thought she was merely playing along with his words, but you new otherwise.

“You know what you want yet?” Harry asked as he pulled his own attention towards the menu. You didn’t need to look at the menu, as being here so many times has allowed you to discover the perfect order.

“I think i’m just going to get the salad, but without the chicken, cheese or cucumber.” She answered, sipping on the water she must’ve already ordered whilst waiting for you both.

“So just lettuce?” You asked, not meaning for it to be a condescending question and yet she took it that way anyways.

“Is there something wrong with that, Y/N?” She asked, being really harsh in the way she spoke your name - as if the syllables actually caused her pain to speak.

“N-no I was just—”

“Didn’t think so.” She snapped and turned away from you to look back towards Harry, with her shit-eating grin that didn’t fool you. Harry kicked you leg under the table too, not appreciating the way you were speaking to Natalia. He didn’t even think about the way his girlfriend was speaking to you though. As usual.

“I’ll probably get the salad too.” Harry nodded his head and you shook your head as he spoke. Harry would never normally get a salad. Like, that’s so Kardashian of him. Harry, whenever he came here with you, always ordered a cheese and pickle panini, with extra crunchy pickles, a portion of chips and some halloumi fries too. Oh and then a cake for pudding. He wouldn’t have gone for a boring salad. Fucking Natalia was ruining him and you hated to have a front row seat of it.

“Not the usual then?” You tried to joke with him, but he was clearly still pissed off with you for being… you.

“Why, are you?” He asked quizzically.

“Obviously.” You smiled, which made Harry smile for a split second before Natalia pulled him away from you. Your smile disappeared and a frown settled in, knowing it would stay there for a long time.

“Babe, I am here too you know?” Natalia joked, bur you could see the anger and jealousy behind her eyes. If looked could kill you’d be ten feet under, twenty times over by now.

“Sorry, yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and paid closer attention to her.

Lunch went by slowly.

Natalia scoffed when she heard your order; poached eggs on toast with three pieces of crispy bacon on the side, a portion of chips and a mint iced tea. Oh and a cake for pudding, but you’d come to that later. Natalia ate her lettuce as Harry eat his salad as you ate your eggs on toast with bacon and chips. You loved the food, hated the company and couldn’t make up your mind whether you loved or hated being here. Natalia and Harry talked throughout lunch, leaving you out of all their conversations. The only time Harry spoke to you was when he asked whether your food was okay, eyeing it up as if he wanted to make love to it and send his salad to the nearest dumpster.

“Was everything alright for you?” Paul, the owner of the business and dude in charge of the eggs asked you when all your plates were empty as Harry’s growling stomach.

“Lovely, thank you.” Harry responded gratefully.

“Perfect.” You smiled as you handed your dirty plate to Paul.

“It was a bit plain.” Natalia moved her plate away from her in disgust and Paul put on his best customer smile, apologising for that before leaving to go and ring up the bill.

“Okay i’m just going to go for a quick wee before I pay.” Harry announced, getting up from the table to go to the loo.

“Okay babe. Don’t be too long.” She called out and then it was left just you and her.

“Well this was nice.” You tried to be nice, as Harry told you to, and start a meant conversation with your arch enemy. Kill ‘em with kindness - that was Harry’s slogan wasn’t it?

“If you hadn’t have been here then yeah.” She turned her nose up at you.

“Look,” you began, wanting her to understand something, “whatever i’ve done to upset you and make you hate me, i’m sorry. Just, I don’t want you to dislike me and I know that Harry really likes you so I want us to be able to get along.”

“Listen, Y/N,” there it was again - your name spoken with dripping venom, “I don’t want to get along with you. You make me sick. You are such a baby to Harry and you’re needy, which means I don’t get to spend time with my boyfriend—”

“Don’t get to spend time with him?” You had to laugh at that. Apart from today, you’d seen Harry maybe a total of 2 hours this whole week and it was Saturday. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

“Not enough. Harry needs to keep away from you, you only bring him trouble.”

“I’m his fucking sister.” You shouted quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace for the rest of the customers.

“Not an excuse. Look Y/N, I understand that you are quite lonely and don’t have many friends? Maybe you should consider that’s for a very good reason?” She rhetorically asked you and that made you sit back a bit. She was pulling apart your insecurities now and exposing them to find the most painful parts, so she could watch you suffer with only the curse of her words.

“It’s not like that.” You tried to convince yourself more than her, tears in your eyes over something so hurtful to you.

“No? ‘Cause I think that you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.” She stood up dusted herself off as he noticed Harry walk back over to the table, smiling as if she hadn’t just shot his sister in the heart.

Her words stung more than a scorpions tale, and yes unfortunately you knew what that felt like. Natalia was right. You were alone, friendless and just trouble. There was a reason that you were all of this and Natalia had hit the nail right on the head with the reason why. You thought of your friends, his they always disappeared and left you and now you sit in the canteen alone or hang out only with yourself on the weekends. You think to Gemma and Anne going away for the weekend, not inviting you because it was age restrictive but you still couldn’t help but think there was a more pressing reason than that. Then you think of Harry and how he was fed up of you. He couldn’t be more resentful of you if he tried. You wanted to be a good friend, a good daughter and most importantly a good sister, but it was so blindingly obvious that you weren’t. You were never going to be.

You stood up from the table too, quickly wiping away a tear from your face before anyone could notice but you didn’t care to see if anyone was actually watching. Harry kissed Natalia and then walked over to the cashier to pay the bill. You noticed Paul and Harry talking and so you walked out of the restaurant and towards the car, still tears in your eyes. You needed to be strong for yourself though, especially because nobody else was going to be.

You stood with you handle to the door of the car waited for Harry to come and unlock it. You heard high heels before the car was unlocked, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, but I ride front.” Natalia spat at you, removing your hand from the door and chivvying you to the back of the car instead.

“You’re coming with us?” You asked, your heart aching that little bit more. You didn’t want to spend another minute in her presence and yet she would now probably spend the rest of the week until your mum and sister came back.

“Ye—”

“No she’s not.” Harry walked out of the restaurant and over to the car, standing in between the both of you but a little more towards you.

“Babe? What do you mean?” Natalia asked, a little bit shocked at his tone with her.

“Firstly dont babe me. Secondly, get your hand off my car. Thirdly, don’t ever come near me or my sister ever again.” Harry ordered angrily. You’d never seen him this angry before. You stood behind him, afraid of what was about to go down.

“What has she said to you, because—”

“She’s my sister and she’s got a name. Y/N didn’t tell me anything. Lemon Puffs, however, has eyes and ears everywhere and it’s amazing the stories you hear when you’re stood at the cashier or next to someone at the urinals.” Harry accused Natalia and she went hot red in the face, embarrassed that this conversation was actually happening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Maybe this will jog your memory. ‘I think you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.’” Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest confrontationally. Guarding and protecting you. You felt safe.

“Wha— You think I would say that?” Natalia asked, pretending to be offended by the accusation.

“I don’t know, let’s ask Y/N shall we? Y/N, did Natalia say that to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at you with hope in his eyes, but also sorriness for everything that’s happened. You could see it all behind his eyes and you wanted to squeeze him tight to accept his apology, because you loved him and you needed him.

“Y-yes.” You answered, looking down so you didn’t have to make eye contact with Natalia.

“Harry you can’t possibly believe her.” Natalia laughed, but there was heavy insecurity in her tone.

“I trust her more than anyone. More than you. I trust Y/N with my life.” Harry back answered, taking no more bullshit from his ex-girlfriend. “We’re done Natalia. Okay? I don’t want to see you ever again. What you’ve said and done to my sister is unforgivable and I don’t want someone like you in my life.”

“You were a dick too.” You added quietly behind him and he just turned round to smile and wink at you.

“So what? That’s it?” Natalia asked, dumbfounded.

“Bye Natalia.” Harry walked around to the drivers seat and you to the passenger side. He stopped before opening the door though, wanting to say one last thing. “The bill was split in half by the way. Paul’s just inside waiting for you to pay.”

With that, you both got in the car, laughing at Natalia’s reaction and just everything. Apologises were made and promises of no relationships until you two had built back up yours were sworn. It would take time, but Harry was willing to prove that he was a good brother and you were always going to be someone he wanted around.

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

[loveaffaire]

Seasons

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/tags: a bit of angst, fluff, cheating (not by Peter/reader), Pete being a hopeless romantic as always

Word Count: 1.3k, I swear these blurb requests are turning into full one shots because I love Peter being completely whipped by the reader :(

A/N: @spiderholland101 I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of those songs so I picked a bunch of lyrics and built a story around it, just 1.3k words of Peter being desperately in love with the reader! Enjoy <3

🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍

Summer - Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Peter tried not to stare at you but it was hard when you were sitting two seats away from him in chemistry class. Your skin looked as soft as cotton, lips plump and covered in strawberry chapstick, hair softly shining in the sunlight coming through the window.

His heart would beat a little faster every time you’d laugh, his breath would hitch each time you’d run to him in a crowded room, a smile would find its way on his lips the second his phone would light up with a text message from you.

It’s gonna get messy so don’t fall in love with your best friend, you fool, he’d tell himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Autumn - You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Peter stood still in the middle of the school entrance as he watched you kiss Harry, his hands in your hands, a smile on your lips. It was like getting shot in the head and no, he wasn’t exaggerating, that is exactly how it felt to see your best friend that you are in love with be in love with someone else.

He pulled himself out of his daydream of repeatedly punching Harry in the face and rushed towards you. You pulled away from your boyfriend as soon as you heard footsteps approaching you, a smile settled on your lips when you saw Peter.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, completely ignoring Harry and you nodded. To his dismay, Harry didn’t let go of your hand without giving you a very steamy kiss right in front of him.

You made small talk on the way to his house and Peter tried to focus on anything other than the kiss you and Harry shared just a few minutes ago. And when you sat on his bed, eyebrows frowned in concentration over chemistry, Peter’s eyebrows were frowned for a whole other reason. Thoughts of you getting too busy in your love life and forgetting him creeped up on his mind and you noticed.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Uh… can’t understand this question”

“You weren’t even looking at the question, you were looking at me” your voice low as you scanned his face, “did I do something?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “no, y-you didn’t do anything, nothing”

“Okay so what is it?”

Peter sighed, biting on his lip because he was nervous and too afraid to say something wrong but he decided to be honest, “just scared you’ll get too busy with Harry and stop hanging out with me, it’s just a thought”

You were taken by surprise by this but soon, the sound of your soft laughter filled the room, “forget about you? We’ve been friends since forever, no boy is ever going to come between us Peter”

Peter’s eyes glimmered at your words, his cheeks turning rosy as he processed your words.

“Anyway, I’m too scared that you’ll forget about me because I saw you hanging out with all those smart science kids earlier today” you teased, your forefinger wiggling in his face as he shook his head, smiling.

How can I forget about you when you’ve been on my mind like a drug, he thought to himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Winter - I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

The cold came and the days turned ugly, one text message to Peter and he was running to your house in the middle of the night.

You saw Peter through your window and opened the door, running into his arms. The impact was so hard that he almost fell back as your hands clutched on his jacket.

“He cheated on me” you cried, voice strained from the previous screaming match with Harry over call.

Peter held you close, walking back inside your house and closing the door behind. As soon as he let go of you, you fell down to your knees and he got down right in front of you as he wiped your tears with his sleeves.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” he said sincerely. His hands holding the back of your head to make you look at him and he almost kissed you that night. But he didn’t because what if you push him away, one heartbreak was enough for tonight anyway.

As he watched you weep on his shoulder for a boy who clearly didn’t deserve you, he wondered how it felt to be loved by you and if he’ll ever get to be loved by you at all.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Spring - Wouldn't it be nice to live inside a world that isn't black and white

The colours were a bit brighter than before, the leaves and the flowers blooming again in the soft spring wind. Just like them, you were blooming too. You were the old Y/N again, the same old Y/N who was there before Harry came along and ruined it.

The glow in your eyes was visible, your smile felt more real now and you felt more comfortable in your skin than you did 2 months ago. Peter even helped you pack a box of all the things that your ex-boyfriend left at your place and you later sold those things at a thrift store.

Peter started seeing more of you, he would either be at your place after school or you’d be at his and sometimes, you’d go to the ice cream place near his place on a hot day.

As he watched you munch on your ice cream cone, the vanilla on your lip looked a bit more appetising then it did when it was on the cone and he almost leaned in to have a taste.

“Is there something on my face”

“No”

“Why are you staring then?” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up” he rolled his eyes, “come on, let me walk you home before it gets dark”

With you walking by his side and the way your knuckles gently brushed against his made him realise how much brighter his world looked now. How wonderful it was to live in a world which wasn’t black and white anymore and it was all because of you.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Summer - Honey I love you

The sun was setting, both of you returning from the summer fair and he finally gained the courage to hold your hand on the way back home. The hot weather was making your palm sweaty but Peter couldn’t care less. You were literally here, holding his hand in yours and he didn’t want to let go.

“Peter”

“Yes?”

“Will you say it?”

Peter frowned in confusion, “say what?”

“You know what” you bit your lips, a bit of sadness in your eyes.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” Peter stuttered.

Peter was clueless. For a straight A grade student, he was pretty dumb when it came to love and you.

“So you will just never tell me that you are in love with me?”

Peter halted in his step and that halted you in yours. His hand slightly loosened its hold on yours in horror but you were quick to tighten your hold on his hand, even tugging him closer to yourself so you both were face to face.

“You know?” He finally spoke up, voice in a whisper and mouth agape in shock.

“It’s hard to miss when you’re right there staring at me with your big brown doe eyes” you softly giggled, feeling a bit shy now, “and how you get flustered when I compliment you, how you always have my back and how you always pick me up, it’s obvious that it’s more than just… friendship”

Yes, you knew. You have been waiting for him to say something, anything at all to show you that he loved you but as time passed and still no word from Peter, you finally took matters in your own hands.

Peter was speechless and you have had enough, you sighed and let go of his hand. Peter almost collapsed when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him in.

You filled the gap between you both as you pressed a soft peck to his lips and his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings, savouring in the feeling of the airy kiss. Your lips felt like a light feather, barely there but just enough to make him feel lightheaded for a second.

You pulled away quickly but then pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes tightly, “honey, I love you”

You said it like a promise, your chest felt a little lighter when the words were finally out and Peter’s heart started racing in his chest again. When he finally processed what had happened, he didn’t waste another moment as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered, words muffled with his lips never leaving yours, “I love you, Y/N”

He repeated the words multiple times, telling you ‘I love you’ for every single time he couldn’t in the past and your eyes watered at the intensity of emotions soaring in your chest.

As he stood there kissing you, his mind went back to last winter and how he wondered how it would feel to be loved by you but now he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He knew how it felt to be loved by you and it felt like heaven.

Anyway, hopeless romantic Peter, my beloved🥰

[alwritey-aphrodite]

8. Sleeping With the Windows Open, requested by @ophelialoveshandsomemen

2022 Summer Blurbs

You’re still not sure how Kane managed to convince you to move somewhere that might be hotter than the surface of the sun. But whatever that reason, you’re regretting it now.

It’s the hottest week of the summer, and you have no AC.

All of your little fans can only do so much, so you’ve resorted to keeping the windows open. At the very least, the open windows keep the air circulating.

It’s not that bad during the day. Sure, you’re hot and sweaty and miserable, but there are things you can do to distract yourself, like go get ice cream or spend the day at the pool or the beach. When it’s time to sleep, that’s when it gets the worst.

You love Kane, you really do, but he always wants to cuddle. And, typically, you love that about him. Just not when you’re convinced you’re melting and it’s his fault you’re in this hell hole to begin with.

You try to ignore his noises of displeasure when you roll out of his reach once again, and instead focus on the noises coming from the open window. You can hear the chirp of crickets and calls of owls, and every so often you hear a car drive past. It would be relaxing, the gentle hum of the night, if you weren’t so goddamn hot.

“Kane, I swear to god.” He’s wrapped his arms around your middle and pressed his face against your neck. You can feel him smile against your skin before he places a gentle kiss there. Good thing he’s cute, or you’d be pissed.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into moving here,” you complain, not for the first time this week.

“You love it… most of the time.” Kane relents and rolls away from you, standing and stretching out.

“I’d love it more if it wasn’t the same temperature as the surface of the sun.” You respond as he walks over to open the windows even farther now that there’s a gentle breeze.

If it was a different night, you’d be greatly appreciative of your current view: your husband, clad only in his boxers, illuminated by the orange glow of the street lights outside. You’d appreciate the hum and murmur of the nightlife, the light breeze that billows your curtains through the open window.

If only you weren’t so goddamn hot.

“You know what would be nice?” You ask, stretching yourself out and then grimacing at how sticky you feel.

“Moving somewhere colder?” Kane replies, teasing, and you can’t help but to roll your eyes at his stupid little smile.

“Yes, but also… if you went and got me a popsicle from downstairs.” You smile and bat your eyelashes and pull out all the stops, even though you knew he’d do it, without question.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He plants a kiss on your sweaty forehead before he makes his way downstairs, making sure to leave the bedroom door open, in hopes of keeping the air flowing throughout the house.

As much as you like to tease him, and his choices for where to live, you’d live anywhere if it meant you got to be with Kane. Even the surface of the sun.

[eloves-writes]

a failed attempt to hate you

(tristan dugray)

a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3

screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes. 

your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.

it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.

‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.

‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.

you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.

‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’

‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’

‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’

he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’

‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’

‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’

‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.

you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.

‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’

‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’ 

‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.

 ‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’

‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.

‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes. 

you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.

he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time. 

why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.

‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new. 

he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’ 

that was definitely new.

‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’

‘trying to get rid of me?’

‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’

‘it is? time flies.’

‘tristan.’

‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’

‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’

he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’

‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.

‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.

you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.

‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.

tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’

‘shut up, i hope you fail.’

he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’

‘i guess not.’

there was yet another beat of heavy silence.

‘see you monday.’

‘see you monday.’

you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.

‘i forgot my-’

‘you forgot your-’

another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.

‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.

‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’

‘ever the arrogant twat.’

‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’

‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’

‘as long as you let me do that again.’

tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)

[troubatrain]

good for you - t. jost

a/n: one day it dawned at me that tyson jost really had just been hitting different lately, and so i just needed to write some filth about it. i'm thinking of making this a smut based mini series so let me know what you guys think :)

part two

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this.

Mat Barzal was pouting, laying across your bedroom in your apartment whining about how you were heading off to Colorado and leaving him. It wasn’t by choice, you’d gotten into a grad program that was an amazing opportunity, separating you and your childhood best friend for the first time in ages. Mat was your friend by accident, a kid was picking on him and you got mad because only you’re allowed to do that and punched that kid square in the nose. Mat covered for you so you wouldn’t get suspended and you’d been inseparable ever since.

“This place is going to be too quiet without you,” Mat whines, dodging the book you’d thrown in his direction, “And not that I keep you to clean up after me but I do need you to teach me how to use the dishwasher.”

“How about you help me pack then?” You suggest, rolling your eyes at his inability to take care of himself. He’d always been like that, his own mother relieved when you moved in because it eased her worries about Mat burning his place down.

“You should give Tyson a call,” Mat hops up, grabbing a box and some stuff off your shelf, “Sure he’d be able to show you around.”

“Tyson Jost?” You furrow your brows, trying to clarify exactly who Mat was talking about. There wasn’t anything wrong with Tyson, that was the problem. Tyson was like sunshine in the summer and in another life, he’d be your dream man. He was kind and the way he talked about his mother made every one of your girlfriends swoon. Tyson had the kind of drive you respected and he just seemed so steady, “I thought we agreed I’d break him.”

“You agreed with yourself on that one not me,” Mat chuckles, shaking his head at your response. Mat couldn’t think of any one of his friends that he’d let date you besides Tyson. Tyson was an astronomically better person than Mat was, always the kind of kid his parents encouraged him to hang out with, “What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot?”

“I’m not sleeping with Tyson, he’s too innocent,” It wasn’t an excuse, it was the truth. Everything about Tyson screamed that he’d get you off but it wouldn’t be all that exciting. Tyson was a relationship type, and you weren’t and aside from the obvious sexual incompatibility - he was Mat’s friend. Despite his efforts, you always swore that was a line you’d never cross. Besides, as kind and endearing as Tyson was, he was still a hockey player, he just got away with it better than most.

“Just promise me you’ll call him? Especially if something’s wrong,” Mat pleads, a soft expression on his face even if it was just for a second before you had a t-shirt tossed in your direction, “You can’t let him replace me though, I’m number one around here.”

“I cannot wait to live alone,” You tease, laughing when Mat’s middle finger is thrown in your direction. It was bittersweet, leaving the comfort of having Mat around to buy you ice cream when you were sad and to take care of his best friend duties and onto a new adventure.

“You won’t be alone Josty will be there,” Mat jokes, his laugh bouncing off the now barren walls of your bedroom, “I swear I’m done now.”

“You better be.”

“I give it two weeks before you fuck Josty though.”

***

Just swing by her place, please.

Mat was like a mother who just sent their first kid away for college, and he was panicking. So, yes, he was begging Tyson to just drop in on to make sure your move was going as smoothly as you made it sound on the phone. Tyson could have been doing anything else on a Friday night with no game, but he was getting closer and closer to giving in by the second.

Tyson could admit, he wanted to see you, and he was excited when Mat shared the news you were moving to Denver. He looked forward to seeing you in the summer, carefree and light and so far out of his league he’d never even try. You made Tyson fumble his words, and every time he saw you he would think with his dick and he couldn’t focus on anything else. Above all else, Tyson wanted you to know he was a phone call away, a promise he made to Mat that he’d be there if you needed anything that he was going to keep for his own selfish reasons.

So Tyson was off to your apartment, a bottle of wine in one hand and a case of Coors Light in the other. He lifted his hand to knock, taking a deep breath and just thinking to himself, don’t fuck this up.

You knew that familiar tuft of curls in your peephole anywhere, summers spent watching the way Tyson’s curls bounced against his forehead whenever he spoke. This had Mat written all over it, no doubt your best friend put Tyson up to his welcoming committee bit. You turn around, boxes piled everywhere with nothing set up in your place aside from your mattress in the middle of the floor and your tv in your living room. Unpacking had been a bit overwhelming, and you may have lied on the phone to Mat that you were doing just fine. You take one deep breath, holding your head up high and pretending like your place wasn’t a mess.

“Hi,” You smile, leaning against your doorframe and taking in the man in front of you. Did he get bigger? Maybe it’s the hair, it’s longer. No, the scruff. Whatever it was, your feet were glued to the floor because you were stunned by the fact that Tyson Jost had gotten hot.

“Welcome,” Tyson cheeses, holding up the beer and wine in his hands and shrugging his shoulders, “I hope it’s fine I stopped by, Mat called and-”

“Told you to come?” You finished his sentence, Tyson nodding at your question, “Well, I have no furniture because it won’t be here until tomorrow, but you’re more than welcome to come join in my sad empty apartment.”

“I’d love to,” Tyson chuckles, bumping his shoulder with yours when he walked into your place. It was definitely empty, Tyson wishing he’d known sooner you’d be without most of your stuff for another day so he could offer up his guest room. It didn’t matter to him, his mind focused more on the fact that you looked incredible, a too big Islanders shirt and a pair of shorts that were leaving little to the eye. You were digging through a box, a small aha leaving your mouth when you pulled out a mug, “Wine in a mug?”

“That’s how Mat used to pour me glasses when we first moved in together,” You admit, gripping the mug in your hand tightly. You may have stolen it from your former kitchen, but it was a memory you wanted to remember, “You can sit, I mean the only place is on my mattress but-”

“Sounds like a tradition then,” Tyson hums, sitting down and leaning against your pillows, taking a sip of his beer. You sat cross legged next to him, pouring yourself some of the wine he’d brought over in that silly I <3 New York mug Mat bought for your first place. You settled on a movie, thankful you at least had wi-fi and didn’t have to make awkward conversation with Tyson.

It’s only awkward because you’re making it awkward, you thought to yourself. Maybe Tyson was doing it on purpose, peacocking around your apartment because Mat told him he had this weird thing about you sleeping with him. He wouldn’t do that, remembering every other time Tyson’s ignored one of Mat’s grand schemes because they were bad ideas, “Excited for the season to start? A few more weeks right?”

“I’m excited for camp to be over,” Tyson groans, snuggling himself into

your mattress, “My entire body’s on fire.”

Yeah mine too. You watched the way Tyson rolled his shoulders, clear pain across his face, “Ty’s let me-”

You were usually bold, confident enough to make the first move without the fear of rejection. It could be from years of watching Mat, a true master at his craft of picking up women, and constantly encouraging you to do the same. That’s how a player plays the game Y/N. Tyson’s brows were raised at you, a blush on his neck while he let himself sit a bit. You slipped your fingers under the soft cotton of his t-shirt, digging them into the knots in his shoulder. Tyson let his eyes rest, embracing the relief you were giving him.

Of course your fingers felt like magic. Tyson was doing everything in his power to keep his cool, and not blow this one chance he’s had with you without Mat’s stupid antics in the middle of it. Just ask her out, she’ll probably reject you, but at least you’ll get laid. Mat was right, he had to be because he knew you better than anyone. It wasn’t just some claim he made either, you didn’t do relationships, never giving your heart to someone else, “How are you good at this?”

“Tito used to tell me I had a career in deep tissue massages in my future,” You joke, Tyson’s head falling back to look at you while he let out a laugh, “Sometimes I think he just wanted to save a trip to the rink…do you mind if I-?”

You were tugging at Tyson’s shirt, waiting for him to nod in response and grab it from the back and toss it off. You never took the time to look at Tyson like this, eyes scanning over his skin and taking him in. Scars on his skin, no doubt from his choice in sport and one from that time Mat took roughhousing too far over the summer. Your finger curled around a loose curl at the base of his neck, Tyson letting out a hum, “I like the curls grown out Tys.”

“Keep pulling on them,” Tyson grunts, the words falling through his lips before he could stop them. You let out a small giggle, Tyson thanking his lucky stars you didn’t just hit him. He turned around, a glimmer in his eyes that you’d seen dozens of times before. Your hand stayed in his hair, gripping his hair softly when Tyson’s lips finally landed on yours. It was slow at first, testing out the waters and Tyson waiting for the blow of rejection. His hand was on your waist, hand slipping under your shirt and rubbing your skin softly. His lips moved down your neck, scruff tickling your skin, “Been wanting this for a while…”

“Yeah?” You muse, tilting your head back while Tyson’s teeth sunk into them. His grip got tighter, your breath hitching in your throat.

“If you don’t count the years I spent wondering what the fuck you and Mat were, then every summer for the past four years,” Tyson’s eyes had gotten a shade darker, flipping you over so you were underneath him, “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, or that I’ve been mentally undressing you for years.”

“Now’s your chance Tys, don’t blow it,” You chirp, waiting for Tyson’s laugh to follow, except it didn’t. Tyson’s hands pulled yours over your head, grip tight on your wrists. What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot. Mat’s words were spinning your head, taunting you because there was a chance he was actually right.

“Don’t move them,” Tyson grits, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands pulled your shirt off slowly, stifling a groan when his suspicions about your lack of bra were true, “Be a good girl-”

“Or what?” You smirk, wondering how many buttons you could press before Tyson just railed you. This was new, welcome, and maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Tyson was the boring type behind closed doors.

“Or I’ll fuck you until you’re begging to cum, but I still won’t let you,” Tyson mutters, his lips pressed against your skin while his fingers hooked under your shorts, “So are you going to be good for me?”

Tyson waited for your answer, gaining himself a plus one in your book on consent and when you nodded, your shorts and panties came clean off. Tyson hooked your thighs over his shoulders and pressed a kiss to your clit lightly, “Don’t tease Tys.”

“Am I the first person who gets you like this?” Tyson groans, watching the way your hips were squirming every light kiss he pressed around your pussy. You were an alpha female, Mat’s words, never Tyson’s, and that meant that under most circumstances you were in charge.

“Yes,” You whimper, desperate for some sort of relief. Tyson had you wound up, in a position you were used to being in and you were eating up every bit of it. He finally gave in, Tyson’s well skilled tongue swirling around your clit, pulling a moan out of you that echoed through your empty apartment. You clasped your hands together, taking every bit of strength you had not to tug on Tyson’s curls, “Fuck, Tyson let me touch you.”

“Not what we agreed to, princess,” Tyson reminds you, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit. His tongue slid up your folds, Tyson climbing back up your body and letting his spit slide down his tongue and into your mouth, “Taste yourself babe.”

You nod, obliging happily with Tyson, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head at how fucking hot this was. His lips landed on yours, reminding you just how good you were being against your mouth. Tyson’s hand grabbed one of yours, intertwining your fingers with his, “Tyson, please I wanna cum so badly.”

“Where?” Tyson hums, sucking at your skin, undoubtedly leaving you a little gift to cover up for your first day of class.

“On your cock,” You bat your eyelashes, playing into Tyson’s game because you needed some release, “All over it, please-”

Tyson kicked off his boxers, taking his own cock in his hand and pumping it a few times. He tapped your clit the head, smirking when you moaned underneath him. This was better than he imagined, all of those unwanted dirty dreams about you that seemed to be more frequent over the summer. You let your free hand move, Tyson’s head thrown back when you lined his dick up your core, guiding him inside of you, “God, you feel so fucking good.”

Tyson dropped your hand, both of his large hands gripped your hips tightly while he slammed into you. Your legs with shaking from pleasure, “Fuck, right there, please I’m so close-”

Tyson wrapped one of your legs around his waist, hitting you deeper. His arms were on both sides of your head, his lips pressed up against your ears when he spoke, “Cum for me princess.”

Tyson’s deep groans sent you over the edge, your pussy fluttering around his cock while he fucked you through your orgasm. His lips parted, hips sputtering when he pulled out and came all over your stomach with a loud fuck. You both fell silent, the realization that you broke your own rule about Mat’s stupid friends washing over you. It wasn’t regret, it was something you couldn’t quite explain. Tyson finally fell next to you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, letting his light kisses trail down your shoulder, “Let me get the shower ready for you.”

You nod, letting your eyes follow Tyson’s ass as he wandered through your place in search of your bathroom. An aftercare king too? Maybe you were biting off more than even you could chew with this one. You grab your phone, rolling your eyes at Mat’s unanswered texts complaining that you’d already replaced him with Tyson. Your fingers dance across the screen, typing up the text you’d been meaning to send since Tyson was at your front door.

You could’ve warned me Tyson got hot, you know?

You didn’t even last two weeks did you?

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

[bunnysuit-femboy]

Slumber Party

Pairing: Sasha x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Implied Praise Kink, Cunnilingus

Quick Summary: Sleepover with Sasha turns sexual.

Notes: This was inspired by the song Slumber Party by Ashnikko, I hope you guys enjoy!

6:13 PM

Your feet ran down the stairs quicker than you could keep up with after you heard the familiar ding of the doorbell. You ran through your living room, and right to the front door. You knew who waited on the other side - since she waited there every Friday night - but you were still filled with excitement at finally seeing her again.

Once you had unlocked the door handle, you swung the door open immediately, taking no time to think about what you were doing. Light flooded in from the outside, the sun setting in the distance and Sasha’s shadow laid on the living room’s carpeted floor.

Sasha stood in front of you with her duffel bag over one shoulder and her phone in the opposite hand. She wore jean shorts - since today had been one of the hottest days all summer - and a grey tank top. She also wore a pair of flip flops with a bright blue anklet around her pale ankle.

Sasha glanced up from the messages open on her phone, “Hi.”

You smiled wide at your best friend, “Hi.” Sasha quickly locked her phone and dropped her bag, opening her arms wide for you and you walked forward to accept the hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. We haven’t seen each other in like-” Sasha took a second to think about her next words- “Two days?”

“Three,” You said against her shoulder, “If you don’t count our FaceTime calls.”

“Right,” Sasha said into your hair, “‘Cause if we were counting those, I saw you two hours ago.”

You took a step back from Sasha, “Well, I needed somebody to tell me my makeup was pretty.”

“That’s not fair.” Sasha grinned. “You always look pretty.”

You playfully pushed Sasha’s shoulder, trying to distract her from seeing your obviously embarrassed face. Your face and ears were heating up with blood and you couldn’t wipe the wide smile from your mouth. You didn’t want your best friend to see how physically embarrassed you got from hearing her compliment you; you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing how high you hold her opinion.

It wasn’t strange to hear Sasha compliment you - in fact, it would have been weirder if she hadn’t complimented you - but hearing Sasha say a sweet word about your person always made you crawl back into your metaphorical hermit shell. You never knew how to respond to Sasha’s kind words about your appearance because they always felt genuine instead of a way of being generally nice.

“I was thinking we could order pizza later,” You said, “And I have ice cream in the freezer and I made sure to buy some soda for you-”

“Did you remember my favorite kind?” Sasha’s face was taken up mostly with a wide smile as she awaited your answer.

“Of course.” You grinned softly to the brown haired girl in front of you. “I always remember everything you tell me.”

Sasha giggled before taking your distance from the door as a way of entrance. She walked inside the apartment she’s been to a million times. But, this time felt different almost - as if she could feel the impending series of events for the next day and a half playing out in front of her already.

8:47 PM

“Well,” You said as your hips shifted closer to her hips, “If you stop squirming, then it won’t be so hard to get the eyeliner just right. Got it?”

Sasha furrowed her already filled eyebrows at you, “But, I have a cramp in my hip. I can’t not shift when all I’m feeling on my left side is pure pain.”

It wasn’t completely a lie, Sasha was in pain but not exactly how she had disclosed to you. Sasha could feel her stomach inflating with nerves the longer you leaned in to be so close to her. She was used to you deciding to do activities in the spur of a moment, but she wasn’t expecting you to beg her to let you do her makeup if she showed you that picture - she wasn’t really sure why you chose this way to do her makeup either.

Usually, when a person gets their makeup done, the makeup artist will be sitting right beside them, leaning in close and getting everything just right. Which is not at all what you’re doing at the moment, you’re leaning in close - sure, but that’s where the similarities in the two scenarios end.

You were sitting on Sasha’s hips atop of the neat covers of your bed. You were straddling her waist and pressing yourself deeper into her pelvis with each concentrated movement. She knows her hip doesn’t hurt as badly as she says - in fact, she could sit underneath you all day long if you’d have her - but, she feels her stomach flutter with butterflies the longer you’re on top of her, and she wishes she could touch you but she doesn’t know if the action will make you uncomfortable or not, so she doesn’t.

You sigh before picking up your hips from her hips, “I’ll move but I’m not finished with your makeup.”

“Huh?” Sasha asks with bright red cheeks and widened eyes. She thought complaining about her hip would surely make you scram but you almost seem determined to stay on top of her.

“Here.” You lifted your hips enough so that her’s could be free underneath you. You still straddled her sides, but now you situated your ass into the air and your shirt had shifted forward. Sasha wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she knew the situation had gotten worse - or maybe, better - for her. All she wanted now was either to look down your shirt, place her hands on your ass and grind you down into her or kiss you passionately from underneath you - but, she didn’t know how you’d feel about any of those options so she stays still in silent agony.

She closed her eyes when you asked, she blinked slowly when you asked, and she puckered her lips when you asked. And, even though she couldn’t do what she wanted to do, she still got a bit of pleasure every time she did as you asked. You’d make sure to tell her exactly how you felt about her submission, whispering praise into the space between your faces - each praise giving Sasha another thing to worry about between her hips.

11:24 PM

The blanket kept falling off of your shoulder, exposing the bare skin to the coldness of your living room. You snuggled your body in closer to Sasha, pressing the cold skin of your shoulder against her warm bicep. She leaned into your touch, gently laying her head on top of your own in order to trap your cheek to her body.

You could fall asleep where you sat, cuddled close to your best friend and barely listening to the distant sounds of the movie in front of you. The coldness of the room was working as melatonin to your already tired body. Your eyes fluttered closed, snapping open every few minutes once your mind realized you were starting to drift off.

“This is the best part,” Sasha suddenly said by your side. You nodded weakly against her arm which got Sasha’s attention. She glanced at you for a moment, watching you from the corner of her eyes. “Are you even watching?”

Sasha looked over to your partially open eyes looking up into her face through your thick eyelashes. You swallowed back the sleepiness that had crept so steadily upon you as you attempted to look awake. But, Sasha saw right through your poor facade, shaking your head from her shoulder with disappointment.

“You’re asleep!” Sasha turned to you, her eyes wide with shock. “But, this is the best part!”

“I’m sorry,” You groaned the words out, “I’m just so tired.”

Sasha pouted at you, “Do you not like the movie?”

“No.” Adrenaline shot through your body as you attempted to convince your best friend. “I- I really like this movie! I just need a cup of coffee or something! The movie’s really good, I swear.”

Sasha took a deep breath, “It’s too late for coffee.” Your eyes darted behind Sasha’s shoulder at the living room window. She was right, the moon was high in the sky and only darkness seeped in through the glass behind the curtains. Sasha's next words came out as a question, “But, it’s not too late for ice cream.”

Your eyes snapped back to Sasha’s filled with sudden excitement, “I do have ice cream.”

Sasha smiled wide, “Perfect!” She leaned over and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, swiftly pausing the movie.

You led Sasha from the living room and to the kitchen, and you could feel her eyes on your back as you walked. It was hard not to look at you, especially in the pieces of clothing you wore as pajamas. You walked around your apartment in a velvet pair of sleep shorts and a tank top that stopped right above your belly button, creating a stripe of soft skin between the hem of your shirt and the waist of your shorts.

You didn’t leave your apartment most nights, either by yourself or with Sasha. You preferred dressing scandalously to bed and cuddling deep into your blanket to keep your body warm. And, when Sasha slept over, you instead used each other’s body heat to keep warm during the night, snuggling close to each other under your thick blanket.

You felt Sasha’s gaze heavy on the skin of your back and then again as it moved to your hips and ass. She watched as your sides moved back and forth with each step. She stared mindlessly at the dimples that swayed on the small of your back.

You turned around to Sasha once you stood in the middle of the kitchen. Sasha’s gaze slowly found your face, instead running gently over the front of your body. Then, finally, Sasha’s light brown eyes stared into your own.

You looked away from Sasha’s peering eyes. Sometimes holding eye contact with her was too much for you, it all felt much too intense and overwhelming. Holding eye contact with her made your stomach turn with butterflies and made your mind go wild with random thoughts that you tried to ignore most days. Thoughts of something big happening, whether it be a long awaited simple kiss or an asteroid through the room you both sat in.

You instead stared at the tiled floor of the kitchen as she watched you, “I have rocky road and metropolitan.” You glanced back at Sasha to see her smiling at you. You furrowed your eyebrows at your best friend, trying to keep your body from feeling like static. “And sprinkles.”

Sasha grinned, “I’ll have some rocky road-” After you had turned around and walked off towards the fridge, Sasha added- “Oh, and with sprinkles on top.”

You grinned into the freezer, your skin erupting in goosebumps from the wandering cold air. You grabbed the two cartons of ice cream, placing them on the counter beside the fridge before walking towards the lazy Susan in which the sprinkles were.

You turned from the corner of the kitchen, now realizing the new obstacle in your way of the sprinkles. Sasha had found her normal spot in the kitchen, sitting on the counter above the lazy Susan. Her feet dangled in front of the cabinet, and her eyes watched you as you walked around the kitchen with a purpose.

You walked over to Sasha, grinning at her before glancing at the cabinet she sat in front of. You were hoping your best friend would get the message without you having to ask because you weren’t sure how to ask for permission between her legs without seemingly asking for everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Sash’,” You said sweetly, “Can I-?” You pointed at the lazy Susan, silently asking her the rest of the question.

All she did in response to your question was tilt her head and grin playfully. She seemed to be playing a game - and it made your heart skip a beat - but you weren’t completely sure if she was. You were crazily rash sometimes, but when it came to friendship, you wouldn’t take a risk unless it was a heavily calculated move.

“What’s up?” Sasha asked innocently.

You grinned, “I need in that cabinet-” Sasha glanced down at the cabinet and then back at you, all without moving her body. “The sprinkles are in there. I need between your legs.”

Oh shit, there it is, the words you didn’t want to have to say. You couldn’t help how uncomfortably hot your body got after saying them, shifting from one leg to the other as if that would cool yourself down. And, you wished you hadn’t seen Sasha’s sudden surprise at the request, her eyes widened and her mouth in a permanent smile.

“Oh,” Sasha said with a tone dripping with cockiness, “You need between my legs? Then, what’s the password?”

You stared at Sasha with squinted eyes, “You have a password for between your legs? Are you wearing a chastity belt or something?”

“I guess that’s the only thing that would make sense.” Sasha giggled before raising a single eyebrow at you. “But, what’s the password?”

“You were serious?” Sasha nodded before you started thinking about what this mysterious password could be. “Is it 0-7-2-6-0-1?”

Sasha raised her eyebrows, “Huh?”

“Is it the same as your phone password?”

Sasha grinned, “Oh-” Sasha looked around the kitchen for a few moments before finally answering. “No.”

You sighed and thought again about what Sasha could make as a spur of the moment password. Obviously she didn’t have a leg password before this moment, so it had to be something she made up on the spot. And, a lot was on the line for you knowing this vital part of information - not only would it prove how deeply you knew Sasha, but the damn ice cream was starting to melt.

“Okay,” You said as you crossed your arms against your chest. “I’m going to spitball some out, and you tell me if I get it right, okay?”

Sasha nodded, “Alright, deal.”

This game was harder than you originally thought it would be, maybe you didn’t know Sasha at all. You thought you’d be able to guess it almost immediately, you thought you knew nearly everything about the other girl. But, she must have the most obscure leg password ever, you wouldn’t be surprised if it were in a different language altogether.

“French fries,” Sasha shook her head. “Hamburgers,” Shake. “Sausage,” Shake. “Pork,” Shake. “Milkshake.” Shake. “Is it-?”

“Why are you only guessing menu items from a diner? I like other things, you know?”

You shrugged, “I know, you just really like diner food.”

She likes other things, huh? Sure, she likes food - more than anyone you’ve ever seen in your whole life. But, it must be something outside of food, what else does Sasha like?

She likes cats, and she likes hunting and fishing with her dad, and she likes roller coaster rides that go backwards. She likes a vast array of things, so to choose just one she would think of in the matter of a few seconds seemed almost impossible.

Except, there was one thing you knew she liked more than any of those other things. She talked about it all the time, from conversations that were progressively led to the subject to randomly texting you another fact long past the time you had gone to bed and she should have gone to bed as well. She talked about it almost all of the time, how could you forget?

It was alcohol, it had to be alcohol related!

So, you thought of anything under the category, anything at all. You thought of vodkas, and rums, and whiskies - but you know she prefers mixed drinks so you switched to those names. You couldn’t think of many drinks that would make sense as her password, except for maybe strawberry daiquiri - though, that one didn’t seem to be right.

In a second, you thought of the one drink she always asks for. She asks for them no matter who the bartender is, whether it’s Jean or Connie that week. She asks for them when she sees your bottle of peach liquor sitting on the floor of your closet. She even asks if you think a place will have them when you walk past a bar you can’t get into yet since you’re both underaged. It was the only drink that completely made sense for it to be her legs' password, she loved them too much.

In a moment of adrenaline pumping through your veins at the realization of what the password must be, you screamed the drink name louder than you needed to.

“Sex on my face!” You yelled, your body going hot with the realization of what you just shouted at your best friend.

Sasha raised her eyebrows at you, “You want me to what?”

You tried to laugh off the embarrassment, but it didn’t work properly. You instead decided to smile into your hands as you covered your face. This moment wouldn’t have been embarrassing if it were anybody else, there was just too much sexual tension between you and Sasha for this conversation to be normal.

“That’s my next guess, I’m guessing the password is sex on my face.” You took a deep breath between your palms, embarrassment finally settling in and even beginning to fade the longer you didn’t think about what happened.

“It’s not,” Sasha said with a grin. “But, it was a good guess, so go ahead.”

You nodded as Sasha jumped from the counter, allowing you access to the lazy Susan. You made the adventure quick, not wanting to dwell on what you said in order to be allowed to grab the sprinkles. It was even embarrassing to feel Sasha’s eyes on your body as you crouched over and into the cabinet, something that otherwise wouldn’t have openly bothered you much.

“Do you want to know my real password?” Sasha asked as you scooped the half-melted ice cream into a bowl. You nodded, not wanting to say much of anything after what happened. “My real password was peanuts, because you have peanuts on the counter.”

You glanced at the bag of peanuts near the sink and then back to the bowl. “I guess I shouldn’t have put much thought into it, since it took you a second to even think about it.”

“You were smart with the game,” Sasha admitted, “You thought of passwords I wouldn’t have thought of in a million years, but not smart enough, I guess-” There was a moment where the only thing that could be heard was the buzzing coming from the working fridge. “Even though I do love sex on my face - take that however you want to.”

You felt your body heat up again, even as Sasha walked away from beside you. Take that however you want to. Oh my god, was Sasha hitting on you?

2:22 AM

If you moved your foot just an inch to the right, you’d be able to feel Sasha’s shin. You almost wanted to move your foot forward and finally touch her. You wanted to scoot your body across your sheets, to feel her body close to yours and feel your skin ignite with a new passion you hadn’t let out in a very long time.

You opened your eyes to see Sasha’s brown eyes staring into your own. You grinned at the girl, feeling like speaking was the only way to eliminate the awkward tension now present in the air. Part of you wished her eyes hadn’t been open, you were okay with watching her in silence - something about her knowing you liked looking at her made your stomach turn with nerves.

“Hey,” You whispered into your partially dark bedroom, “Are you tired?”

Sasha shook her head against the pillow, smushing her cheek even deeper into the plushness, “Not even a little bit. How about you?”

You sighed, “Nope.”

The silence was back, but it wasn’t awkward like the last time - this was a new comfortable silence. In the moment, all you could do was watch Sasha and all she could do was watch you right back.

You wondered what the brown haired girl was thinking about. Your first assumption was food considering the girl’s eating habits, but after a second thought - you knew better than to guess that. You then assumed that maybe the girl was thinking of you.

Sasha was probably tossing and turning the idea of you in her head, or at least you hoped she was. You hoped she was thinking about the way you look right now with the moon shining in through the window behind you. And, you hoped she thought about how warm you felt on the couch, pressed up against her earlier. And, you hoped she thought about how warm you would feel underneath her, completely naked and-

Not now. You closed your eyes to hide the thoughts in your head, and you hoped covering your irises would keep Sasha from knowing what you were thinking about. Now wasn’t the time to think about your best friend that way, not when the option was so possible.

“Hey,” Sasha whispered into the quiet space between you, “What kind of car would you be, if you had to be one?”

You opened one of your eyes, “What?”

“You heard me.” Sasha grinned as she watched you think of the few types of cars you could actually name off of the top of your head. “I think I’d be a pickup truck-” Sasha ignored your loud snort- “Because I’m tall, kind of. And, I like carrying things, I don’t really know why - I guess I like being helpful. And, my dad’s got a farm, so it’s perfect.”

You smiled wide at Sasha, “Do you want to try again and maybe pick any other car on the planet?”

“What’s wrong with pickup trucks?” Sasha tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Pickup trucks are cool, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” You said sarcastically.

Sasha playfully pushed at your shoulder, “Alright, if I have to choose a different type of car, then I guess I’d be a-” Sasha took a second to think- “A tractor.”

“Shut up,” You spoke through a loud fit of laughter.

“I’m serious.” Sasha giggled with you. “I’d either be a pickup truck or a tractor - I mean it.”

“One,” You said with a grin, “Tractors aren’t even considered cars. And, two, no you wouldn’t be a tractor because they are loud and dirty and-” You shrugged- “Actually, that kind of works for you.”

“Hey!” Sasha's voice had gone up a few octaves for that one word. She pushed at your shoulder again, this time her hand lingering on your body.

You giggled, “You’re the one who said it, Sash’, I was only repeating it.” Sasha grinned at you, her hand still on your shoulder and now making its way down your bicep. “And, I think I’d be a mustang. One, I’m sleek and luxurious. And two, I like to go fast.”

“Really?” Sasha’s fingers drew invisible circles above your elbow. Her fingers were slender and warm and the circles were drawn in a smooth and consistent motion. “Could you have picked a more cliché type of car?”

You wrinkled your nose at the girl, “At least I chose a car.”

The room grew quiet again, but the silence was different from the last two times - neither awkward nor comfortable. Instead, the silence was full, like there were so many words being spoken into the space around you. The darkness of the room told each other your deepest, darkest secrets and part of you knew Sasha could hear your every thought that kept you awake at night.

She could hear what you thought about before eventually falling asleep. She could hear your mental grocery lists about the things you needed to pick up the next evening. And, she heard your mental relivings of memories you only thought about when nobody could see the pain written across your face. And, she heard the feelings you had bottled up for so long - feelings all about how badly you wanted to feel her hands all over your body.

And, what was so wrong with wanting your best friend on top of you, honestly? Everybody felt this way at least once in their lives. And, what was so wrong with finally going for it? Every single sexual or romantic relationship started with one of the people taking a chance, and it seemed you just had to be that person.

“Sasha,” You whispered into the dark space between both of your faces.

“Mhm,” Sasha mumbled back, her hand finally reaching your wrist.

You took a deep breath, “Do you ever think of me at night?”

Sasha grinned, “All of the time - why do you ask?”

Sasha’s fingers now found your palm, the tickling motion causing your own fingers to jump. Her hand was so warm against your hand, and you didn’t want her to stop touching you. You would prefer if she touched you all over your body, but you were willing to settle with just holding her hand in the darkness, if that’s all she wanted.

“Because,” You said with a smile, “I think about you too - at night, during the day, in the mornings, in my dreams - all of the time, like you said.”

Sasha’s fingers intertwined with your fingers, her palm resting gently against your own. Sasha didn’t need to say anything for you to suddenly hear her thoughts. She must have felt the same way considering her hand stayed against your own even when she leaned in to kiss you.

Sasha’s mouth was soft, and you could taste the ghost of her strawberry chapstick still on her lips. Her mouth moved gently at first, metaphorically testing the waters before diving in. Her kisses were merely innocent pecks for a moment, until she leaned back and whispered to your mouth.

“Was that what you think about all the time?” Sasha’s breath fanned across your face with her words.

You grinned to yourself, “I’ve thought about much more than just that.”

Sasha’s lips were back on yours, her mouth making up for wasted time. You had felt this way about her for as long as you’ve been her friend, and for just as long, she’s felt the exact same way. And finally, months longer than you’d have liked, Sasha is actually kissing you.

Sasha removes her hand from yours and instead brings them to your sides. She feels her way up your hips and ribs, her fingers gently tickling the skin she touches. Her fingertips play with the hem of your shirt and the waist of your shorts, teasing you with the idea of her removing your clothes from your body.

You moved your arms around her neck and brought her face closer to yours. Her tongue was warm when it swooped into your mouth, licking across the roof of your mouth in one swift movement. Her tongue was so warm and arousing in fact that she drew a soft gasp from your mouth which only encouraged her further.

Sasha’s hands found your hips just before you rolled up on your knee, now straddling her lap. You were in the same position as earlier, sitting gently on her hips as you lean downward towards her face. But, instead of carefully applying eyeliner to her eyelids, you now kissed Sasha so roughly that your front teeth chattered against her front teeth.

Sasha ran her hands over your hips and ass, touching the places she had wanted to, but didn’t, touch earlier. Her fingers moved gently against your thighs, digging her nails into the plush skin. Her hands pressed onward, hellbent on finding their ways under the bottoms of your sleep shorts.

You let out a short gasp when you felt Sasha’s smooth fingers find the soft fabric of your panties. She grinned once she felt your surprise and whispered into your mouth.

“Did I shock you?” Sasha asked with a smile, “Did you expect me not to touch you when you’re on top of me like this?”

You breathlessly mumbled against her mouth, “‘Guess I didn’t expect you to be so determined.”

“Let me show you just how determined I am.”

Sasha pulled on the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms, letting her remove the fabric from your body. Sasha throws the shirt to the ground, taking in the new sight in front of her - you sitting on top of her in only your sleep shorts and panties. Sasha had seen you in a bikini and even in your bra plenty of times but nothing could have prepared her for how beautiful with a bare chest.

You leaned down and pecked Sasha before your mouth traveled past her mouth and down her body. You kissed her jaw, the side of her neck, and behind her ear. The kisses that you left on Sasha’s skin tickled her body, causing her to let out breathy pants and soft giggles from between her lips.

Sasha arched her back towards you before suddenly switching positions with you. She pushed you onto the bed beside her, your back now against the comforter you were formerly lying underneath. Sasha sat above you, leaning back on her calves on the right side of your legs.

Sasha quickly pulled her shirt from her body, throwing it thoughtlessly to the ground. You reached towards her, placing your hands gently against the smooth skin of her stomach. Your fingers slowly made their ways up her ribs and to her chest, letting your fingertips rub gentle shapes into the sensitive skin of her tits.

Sasha bent down towards you, pressing her lips to yours as your hands continued to palm her. Sasha moaned into your mouth in between kisses, feeling herself growing hotter with every second your hands were on her. Sasha moved an inch back from your lips, whispering heavily into your mouth.

“Can I taste you?” Sasha came back in for another kiss.

You nodded against her face, “Yes, please.”

Sasha moved back onto her calves, smiling down at you for a second before moving her hands to the waist of your shorts. She pulled your sleep shorts down your thighs and legs, shoving them off of the bed and out of the way.

Sasha moved in between your legs, wrapping her hands around your body before leaning down. She spread a kissing trail from your navel down to the waistband of your panties. And once she reached your panties, she looked up at you - silently asking for permission to proceed.

“Please.” That one word came out in a desperate squeak.

Sasha giggled into your body, “‘You really that excited for me?”

Sasha slowly pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor as well. You felt the heartbeat between your legs pound as Sasha kissed slowly down your leg: a peck to your ankle, to your calf, to the side of your knee, to the inside of your thigh and finally to the most sensitive skin right beside her destination.

A loud moan erupted from your mouth when Sasha’s mouth found the place you needed her most. Her tongue licked against the slick that had collected in the area, drinking it into her mouth which only caused you to create more. Sasha’s mouth moved expertly between your legs, her tongue moving itself in and out and around your entrance.

You arched your back into the air as Sasha’s hands moved from your back to your ass and hips. She moved her fingers against your hips bones, squeezing the skin and pulling your body closer to her mouth until your thighs were practically suffocating her. But, Sasha didn’t stop, the possibility of death only encouraged her further - Sasha supposed if she had to die anywhere, she’d prefer to die between your thighs and tongue deep in your pussy.

Deep within your folds, Sasha used her tongue to write the same thing over and over again. Silently communicating with you through her movements, and even marking the area as her own. S-A-S-H-A, her tongue spelled out her name for you, each time driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, S-A-S-H-A.

You felt your legs shake on either side of Sasha’s face, your whole body jumping with arousal. You pushed your fingers into Sasha’s hair, fisting the strands into your palm in an attempt to alleviate the pressure growing in your stomach. Sasha moaned into your pussy, aroused by the idea of just how much pleasure she was giving you.

The growing pressure in your stomach started spreading to your entire body, causing your hips to buck forward from your impending orgasm. You pushed Sasha’s face deeper into your body, silently influencing her to continue exactly what she was doing. All it took was one more swoop of her tongue and you were unraveling into her mouth.

Sasha licked up every single drop of wetness, slowly bringing you back down from your high. Sasha sat up from between your legs, looking at you from where she sat on her calves. She grinned at you, her chin and cheeks drenched in what remained of your orgasm.

“So,” Sasha said with a large smile, “How was that?”

You giggled breathlessly into your hands, suddenly feeling the need to cover your face. All you could remember was just how loud you got while she was between your legs, the room echoed with the sounds of every moan that came from between your lips. You felt embarrassed by just how much you enjoyed Sasha’s tongue because what if she now knew how much you like her?

Sasha’s hands gently removed your palms from your face. You looked intently into her eyes and cursed just how deeply the other girl knew you. She’s your best friend and a good one at that, of course she can read the embarrassment written so obviously across your face.

“Hey,” Sasha said delicately, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, babe. I enjoyed it just as much as you did.”

You sighed, “How about I give you something to enjoy? Wanna’ let me return the favor?”

“Oh?” Sasha raised a single eyebrow at you. “Hell yeah.”

You pushed Sasha into the bed the same way she had to you. You placed your thigh between her legs, pressing down into her before giving her a passionate kiss. Sasha groaned against your lips which only encouraged you to give her just as much pleasure she gave you. You stayed up all night with her, your lips against her lips and your thigh between her legs as you drank down every moan she gave you until the sun eventually came up on the other side of your bedroom window.

[romanticahwi]

Stray Kids as Princes

requested: no

genre: fluff + a bit suggestive

ship: skz x gn!reader

warnings: a bit of suggestiveness of sexual deeds, mentions of swords and fighting, mentions of injuries, lmk if there is more

not proof read! (minors dni)

a/n: we apologize for being so inactive recently! here’s a new work we’ve been working on, we hope it makes up for our long absence.

Bang Chan

    •    Probably one of the sweetest rulers ever

    •    Incredibly approachable

    •    Gives you the best advice you’ve ever heard sometimes whenever you’re having problems

    •    Sometimes you forget he’s royalty because you just feel so comfortable around him

    •    Lots of people swoon over him because honestly how could you not? Especially since he’s so sweet literally 24/7

    •    Nobody has ever seen him unhappy before, and he has certainly never been seen angry - only slightly annoyed but that itself is a rare sight

    •    He has a big soft spot for puppies and just all things cute

    •    He might have once proposed to change the name of his kingdom to something puppy-related (Succeeded in changing the national flag to something that had puppy paws in it)

    •    He enjoys swimming a lot, and there will almost always be a crowd of fans watching him and cheering him on every time! He may get really shy about it, but on the inside, he secretly likes it and it motivates him to do better!

Bang Chan As Your Prince

    •    As a lover, this man treats you like you’re royalty too, even if you aren’t!

    •    He will never allow you to degrade yourself or put yourself down but if that’s your way of coping, he won’t hesitate to give you his full, undivided attention…and then he’ll shower you with love and very kind words (he’s incredible with them - it never fails to blow you away)

    •    His singing voice is lovely, you often ask for him to sing you to sleep which is something he loves to do! He sees it as a way to get in some minutes of practice so he can improve himself

    •    He always wants to better himself and take care of others so much to the point that he’ll ignore his own needs, so he’ll definitely need someone to take care of him

    •    You sometimes can’t believe you’re lucky enough to call him yours, but he feels the same about you too, and he’ll always make it known (You swear your heart melts a little (in the best way possible) whenever he gets shy)

    •    He’s very cuddly, he loves giving you hugs; if there’s a day that goes by where he doesn’t give you one at least once throughout the day, then you know something is wrong

    •    He giggles a lot, and anything can set him off but you find it to be incredibly endearing

    •    He is just so soft…especially in the bedroom, but there are times when things get a little more heated

    •    “In a world that was dark and grey, you came along and painted beautiful, vibrant colors”

Lee Know

 •    He seems unapproachable at first because of his icy stare, but that’s quite the contrary actually (he’s actually an incredibly warm human being)

    •    Loves to crack jokes! Most of them are cat-related, but don’t comment on that or else he’ll probably stare at you weirdly and will continue to do so until you let it go

    •    Don’t tell anyone, but he secretly loves playing with cats in his free time, and sometimes whenever he has to spend a full day tending to his ✨ royal duties ✨ you’ll find him squeezing time in to pet some stray cats or to rescue them

    •    Speaking of rescuing stray cats, he’s incredibly passionate that no cat should be homeless and each should be loved and taken care of

    •    Not just cats, but he believes any stray animal shouldn’t be left without a home or a loving owner (He himself has three cats)

    •    He’s basically the president of the kingdom’s animal rescue team, and he often checks up on the shelter to either play with some of the animals there, or he’ll chose one and spontaneously run around the kingdom to promote how adorable they are in hopes of finding them a home at the end of the day

Lee Know as your Prince

 •    You must be an animal lover like him, because you guys will spend so much time together at the shelter to play with them!

    •    He’s a little awkward when it comes to affection, specifically hugs, but with given time, he’ll warm up to it! Plus, he’s awkward in a cute way

    •    He’s gifted you a cat plushie which you’re unable to sleep without at night, sometimes you’ll catch him stealing it from you because he claims that it’s just too adorable

    •    You guys have ice cream dates a lot, because he seems to have a second stomach for it

    •    Whenever you go with him to get his portrait painted, he loves to pose in funny positions and make funny faces, there are a lot of portraits consisting of him doing so, finding a more serious one is kind of rare but hey…you’re just glad to see his true personality that he’s a bit hesitant to share with the rest of the kingdom

    •    You happened to discover this on accident, but he likes it when you ruffle his hair and look at him fondly, it makes his heart race

    •    He often guards his emotions, but you feel thankful whenever he opens up to you because sometimes you get worried when he bottles them up for a little too long

    •    He can be a bit evil sometimes, and that shows in the bedroom but he makes sure to never do something you’re not comfortable with - your needs come first  

   •    “You are my pride and joy, I feel so lucky to have you”

Changbin

• SUCH A FUN MAN!

• Nicknamed the prince of fun! Only by a few people…everyone else refers to him as the “pig-bunny prince” because he has a big obsession with Dwaekki (he might even be the face of the kingdom…literally. aka the national flag)

• You can trust him with practically anything. But do expect him to playfully tease you most of the time!

• He can be really loud! Even if you’re a few rooms down from whatever room he’s in, there’s no doubt you’ll be able to hear him

• He really loves music, he’s in charge of anything music-related (He’s hosted rap classes before, and a lot of people found them to be a bit on the difficult side because he can rap incredibly fast)

• He’s pretty chill, and kind of like a best friend to everyone - he’s that open to things and he’s incredibly reliable (He’s got everyone’s back, whether you’re close to him or not.)

Changbin As Your Prince

• He’s a very fun lover as well, your love life together is always full of excitement

• Certain activities could possibly cause him to get severely injured, and you always mentally note that you should tell him to stop, but seeing the pure joy on his face…you can’t help but to change your mind. (He’s a little daredevil, it’s kind of rare to see him mellowed-out, and when you do, you should probably be concerned when he isn’t being his loud, hyper self)

• He can be pretty affectionate when he wants to be but he displays his love for you through other actions rather than physical affection

• He too, is very good with his words! He makes you feel like you’re on cloud 9

• That “cool guy” act that he’s got going on? It doesn’t show up as much when he’s with you, because he’s just that comfortable with you. (Plus he thinks that you deserve to see the true Changbin…the man behind the prince that everyone else doesn’t get to see)

• His playfulness shows up in the bedroom too, along with ruthless teasing, like sometimes you’ll have to beg for him to have mercy on you but in his opinion that just makes things more exciting

“What was my life before? Ever since we met, I can’t seem to live without you anymore”

Hyunjin

the softest when it came to serving his kingdom

his gentle voice and soft smile always brought people to ease when they were around him

an equestrian. when not attending to royal duties, he’s always riding a horse or in the stable

as the only child and only son, he must take over the kingdom, no questions asked

throws an annual winter wonderland festival to show his gratitude to his subjects

his kind smile is loved by all

Hyunjin as your Prince

so so so loving oh my

would help you make bracelets for the small children in the kingdom

would press loving kisses to your face with that shy smile of his

would also take you on horse rides! in the morning, middle of the day, at night? you name it!

intimacy between you two was so loving and soft

he would show you how much he loves you with sweet kisses and gentle words

“everyday when I watch the sunset, I realize I’ll get to spend another day with you.”

Han

he gives off the vibe that he wouldn’t want to rule the kingdom after his father.

he wants to pursue music, but the king is against it.

so against it, that Jisung has to do what he loves behind his father’s back

very playful; loves sword fighting and horseback riding

everyone in the kingdom as a slight crush on him

he’s known for being very heroic; he’s saved many people and the protected the kingdom with an iron fist

he may not want to rule in the future, but he still cares about his subjects like family

very giving as well; always there if anyone is in a bad situation, whether it’s big or small.

Han as your Prince

very loving; loves pressing kisses all over your face, and having his hands on your body

very protective. If anyone looks at you with barely even a little interest, it’s all over.

when you two get intimate, I see him being the one to initiate everything

he would take care of you, kissing down your body with soft praises and soft touches

holds your waist gently while doing the do

“ there are many bright stars in the sky, but you’re the brightest out of them all, baby.”

Felix

the sweetest prince ever.

cares so much about his subjects; maybe more than himself

everyone loves him, and are very ready for him to take over the kingdom

hosts monthly bake sales that the entire kingdom can participate in, which also helps feed people in need

dances when he’s not attending to royal duties, and oh my, he’s a beautiful dancer

during the cold winters, he hosts as much shelter for people as he can

being the only son in his family, he needs to find a significant other soon because his father is getting old to keep running the kingdom

Felix as your Prince

no surprise, but he’s the sweetest

he can’t keep his hands off of you when you’re together

hands on your waist, holding your hand, any skinship, he’s doing it.

when you two were intimate, regardless of his roll, his eyes would be filled with so much love.

loves it when you run your hands through his hair, tugging it gently

nonstop kisses. he’s completely addicted to your lips.

“i might be the kingdoms pride and joy, but you are my absolute universe.”

Seungmin

very strategic and well educated. he knows what he’s doing, and knows how to do it well.

extremely brave. he’s saved the country multiple times.

he comes off as cold, but behind closed castle doors, he’s an energetic puppy.

loves to sing in his free time

often gets caught singing in the castle garden, and gosh he sounds beautiful

extremely protective over his family. You hurt them, he hurts you.

Seungmin as your Prince

cold on the outside, warm on the inside

will not go father than keeping his arm out for you to wrap around when you’re in public

but within castle walls? he’s all over you.

kisses kisses kisses galore

smiles brightly only for you :(

sings you to sleep every night

when you two are intimate, he usually wants it soft and slow so he can show you how much he loves you

soft praises and slow, romantic kisses

holds your hand the entire time

“you are more beautiful than the cherry blossom blooms on a sunny day.”

I.N.

playful but caring

he always is holding a smile on his face. there’s never a point and time where people weren’t seeing him smiling.

however he takes his royal duties very seriously. when someone is in trouble, he’ll put the villain in their place.

a fencer. he finds such a thrill in fighting someone with a sword.

since he has an older brother, he doesn’t have to take over the kingdom, and he’s happy about it.

ideally want to live in a forest, surrounded by trees and wonder.

I.N. as your Prince

so so so caring. he cares about no one when it comes to you.

he loves to press gentle kisses all across your face, neck, jaw, etc. he just thinks you’re so beautiful.

would love it when you showed up to his fencing matches. he loved it when you were there to cheer him on.

you two would stay up till the rise of the sun singing and giggling with each other.

would hold you close when you two eventually fell asleep.

this sweetheart would let you take any role when it came to intimacy. he was an absolute fool for you.

“When the sky is filled with sweet, bird songs, I get reminded of you.”

- atalia & arya

[abbynx]

Being Sorlato’s child + Being babysat by La squadra

A/N: Soooo, this is a direct sequel from the one-shot “Encounter” if you haven’t read it yet, feel free to browse it here 

Genre: Fluff, platonic, wholesome headcanons

- After the encounter, the couple found themselves thinking about it all the time, how different they acted to a child at the face of danger, and how afraid they were and how quick they were to act upon instinct and save you. There was certainly something the couple felt in their chest they can’t fathom but somehow liked the pleasant feeling. 

- One time Sorbet was found lounging around the La Squadra headquarters with a pamphlet regarding parenting whilst waiting for the meeting. When asked why he was reading that he nonchalantly replies that the thing was lying around and decided to read it because, “Why not?” One knows not to question him any further, so they let him be. 

- Gelato was found longingly staring at parents with their kids on the playground whilst on a mission and again, no one dared to speak a word of it. He didn’t leave even if the mission was over, until Sorbet was called in and had to physically drag him away. 

- They both knew it was getting out of hand because all they can think of now was wanting to raise a child of their own but they knew their circumstance were the least ideal to put a child in. For crying out loud, they kill people for a living and they didn’t really want to subject a child into this mess of their’s. 

- “God, is this what baby fever feels like?” 

- The couple has discussed about this, over and over than they can recall. When Gelato would suddenly mention, “You know, if we were to have a son I think that you can teach him how to ride a bike. That’d be sweet to watch to be honest.” or Sorbet saying, “If we were to have a daughter, I get to threaten her boyfriend to bring her back home before dinner.” 

- Once again, they were out to go on their once a week date all to their selves and decided to go to the same restaurant they had to stop in to save the child. And on their way their, what are the odds, the aforementioned child coming up to them and greeting them. 

“Ciao signore Sorbet! Signore Gelato!” 

W-was this a sign??? 

 "Ahh, Y/N!" Gelato was practically enthusiastic, he can just pick you up, but of course, he has to bind himself down. 

 "Out in the middle of the night again, I see." Sorbet points out. 

 "Aheh, yes sir..." You sheepishly responded. "But I really have to do everything if I want to graduate elementary with high marks." 

 - After a brief chat, weather, school and whatnot, once again you went on with your merry little way. After that, it was back for longing and yearning for the couple. 

 - The rest of La Squadra noticed this, but didn't knew how to help; until Melone picked up on the signs the couple were exuding: Sorbet reading the parenting pamphlet, Gelato longingly gazing towards parents bonding with their children, the two of them talking away about 'If we were to have a child...'— why, Melone's diagnosis: Baby fever. 

 - Melone somehow came up with an elaborate scheme involving an orphanage, did a couple of research. Due to some... Fortunate moment, somehow, someway, the figure running the same orphanage you resided in has made quite the list of enemies all his years. 

 "Melone you know that you can just tell them it's okay for them to adopt the child, right???" Risotto looks up from the detailed, complex document sent in by Babyface's user. 

 - Yes, it was stupidly complicated and a lot of work compared to just simply signing papers and adopting the child. The paperwork would be, again, stupidly complicated, but at least it doesn't involve bloodshed. It's not like the couple shied away from shedding blood but that wasn't the point. 

 - Capo Risotto had to consider their circumstances to adopt a child. Like I said, the dilemma was killing them and simply can't act out of selfishness and adopt a child just because they wanted to, it wasn't the same as a adopting a pet.

 - Cue the four hour meeting with the couple, discussing about what they can do and what they cannot do. Risotto was most certainly happy for the two of them to be adopting a child of their own, taking care of them and along of those lines but again, the fact they are a part of a crime syndicate and there were a lot of things they discussed about. 

 - After that, everything was settled and got started with the process of adopting the child. They didn't have to chose, they already had their eyes set on a specific kid; Y/N L/N, age eleven, abandoned by their parents when they were born, who adores reading and loves (insert food) and— what? They've done their research!

 - The couple was just beyond elated!

 - Through the process of adopting you they learned you were six 

 - Now that fact was uncovered, they were now more concerned and pissed why the orphanage would neglect a first grader and let them return from school at eight in the evening. And the fact that they met you under the circumstance of danger, pretending to be the couple's kid in desperation. 

 - Needless to say, a lot of things are going to change in your life, especially at the aspect of your security. They are a part of those people you should fear at night, admittedly gelato has almost pulled a gun on you that fateful night out of sheer jealousy, and didn't even register the fact you were barely half Sorbet's height.

 - First and foremost, you won't be staying in school longer than six thirty, as the couple takes turn on picking you up. They understand and adore the fact you're a hardworking kid thriving to have a scholarship in college despite being a literal first grader, but being a little kid walking alone in the middle of an evening is frightfully concerning. And in those times wherein either sorbet or Gelato picks you up, they'd buy you treats you want but not enough to spoil your appetite for dinner. 

- You did not hesitate to address them the way you addressed them that one fateful night when they tucked you in your new room for the very first time.. Gelato cried after that and Sorbet had to hold him to his chest to clam him down. Ugh, you were so effortless at making the two of them so soft. 

 - They're underpaid, not broke, so the couple spoils you in an overwhelming rate, the entirety of La Squadra were beginning to get concerned. Proscuitto scolded the two that they might spoil you rotten, but they reassured them you weren't. 

 - Speaking of La Squadra, the couple considered them as their family. Sorbet and Gelato did not hesitate to introduce you to them not as La Squadra, but as your uncles.

 - All of them were touched that Sorbet and Gelato want them to be a part of their child's life, that one of them would often volunteer to watch over you if the two were away. The couple were not going to introduce you to them as assassins and took advantage of your gullible nature as a young child. they don't intend to hide it as a secret from you. Perhaps someday they'll tell you their line of career, but six was not the right age to do so. 

 - Which brings us to their circumstances, the fact that they're assassins and how it is not an ideal career for people who has an attachment outside of their jobs. They were extremely careful in terms of that, wanting to protect and prevent others from using you against the couple. Well, now there's now a fate worse than death if ever that happens. 

 - With new responsibilities, Risotto understood them and gave them less jobs in order to take care and watch over you. But there were times where the two were both absent, prompting one of La Squadra to babysit you.

- Melone, Formaggio and Proscuitto are top picks for babysitting duties! but, of course, there are disadvantages. Melone is... Melone. Formaggio can and will act as a kid rather than an adult. And Proscuitto, well, he can be a bit too domineering. So yes, they are A-tier babysitters, nonetheless. 

 - B-tier babysitters would be Illuso, Pesci, and Ghiaccio. Illuso can be a bit too dismissive, Pesci will be too anxious and overprotective-- like in an extreme rate, and Ghiaccio... Hide your copy of Merchant of Venice, and you'll live another day. 

 - S-tier would be Risotto, except the fact that he is always busy. He is good with kids and he can guarantee their safety, I mean, need I say more?

 - Under no circumstances, are they allowed to swear around you. The couple already had restricted their foul language around you, and they expect the others to do so as well. Ghiaccio is highkey sweating when you started saying bullshit whenever you're frustrated. He profusely begged you not to day that again in exchange for ice cream. 

“Bullshit!” Ghiaccio’s heart skipped a beat after hearing your small voice whisper-shout on the dinner table as you attempted to solve a rather difficult math problem. 

 - Your relationship with them was well. They were protective of you, love you and support you. They're very affectionate, but not in an overwhelming amount... Well, at least they try to hold back but all they want to do is to spend time with their baby and love them unconditionally, as they should. 

 - Padre Gelato is more of a fun dad, very playful and energetic. He likes lifting you up to his hip before gently nuzzling his nose against yours. Dad jokes subconsciously slips from his mouth, be careful. He does a lot of cool tricks with his butterfly knife, twirling the sharp blade around while you stare in awe, whilst Papa Sorbet was more concerned that he'll accidentally cut himself, or that you might try the trick unsupervised. Needless to say, Padre was responsible enough to keep his knife in his pocket at all times to prevent that. 

“When will you teach me how to do that, Papa?” 

“When your old enough, N/N.” 

 - Papa Sorbet is a bit more reserved, but certainly not distant. He will not hesitate to kill someone who tries to hurt you. So he's the perfect person to serve as your teacher, as he helps you with school work and help you learn other practical things: cooking, baking, doing laundry by hand (which product is more effective to get blood off clothes), self-defense, etc. 

“So if there’s a stranger following you, what do you do?”

“Cling to the nearest person I see and pretend that I know them?”

 - They both tuck you into bed after reading you a bed time story, though it only lasted until you were nine because you insisted you were already grown up (cue, Gelato hiding his face on Sorbet's chest because his baby is all grown up--), but some things don't change because by bed time, they just check up on you even if they won't tuck you in to sleep.

 - Extremely supportive and encouraging. Like, they're basically the gasoline you pour on fire to intensify the fire of your passion. Like, they'll cheer you on sport games and competitions, tries their best to attend recitals, etc, etc. Though sometimes one is missing due to missions, sometimes both, but in the end of the day, you were confident that they would have loved it. 

 - Unbeknownst to you, at the end of the competition, a certain figure will come behind you and lock you on a headlock before harshly rubbing their knuckle atop your head. Uncle Formaggio can be a mean sometimes. So yes, if ever the couple is absent from your competitions, one of your uncles would volunteer to go. 

“‘Sup, little sport?” 

“Uncle Formaggio, my hair--!”

 - The first time you celebrated your birthday with your new parents was your seventh. They wanted to throw a goshdarn ball, but you insisted to keep the party amongst yourself. Just you, your papa and padre, and your  seven weird uncles. You were already a big family, and you were happy with that.