#UH OH ACCIDENTAL HAND REVEAL

[reestallized]

A bunch of things for an au I'm cooking but they're in very bad quality because I took them on my sister's tablet

[nctsworld]

fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

[esote-rika]

A bookstore meet cute I wish I could experience | Spencer Reid

Category: Fluff with S4 awkward, nerdy rizz Spencer

Warnings: use of Y/N, unedited (tenses keep shifting, sorry)

A/N: this is just 1.8k words of self indulgent self insert. Like this is inspired by some unpleasant experiences I've had talking with men about books in the past lol, and reader's responses defensive responses had been me at some point. i feel like a conversation with Spencer Reid would heal me, thus this fic. Also, save me, s4e9 Spencer Reid, save me.

He seemed like a fixture to the bookstore, if fixtures moved on their own. Or if they moved up and down the aisles with elegant fingers tracing the spines of the books on display. Or if they dressed like a rumpled professor, complete with the black rimmed glasses. He just seemed like he was part of the space, and you thought that every bookstore should probably come with one - a tall, attractive nerd who drifted all over the room like some sort of phantom. Maybe that would help with the literacy problem. It certainly would bring more people in, make them more interested in reading.

You've been trying to figure him out from afar, as subtle as you can. You're not a creep, after all, but he cuts such a lonely figure that you couldn't help but wonder if he needed some company. A part of you wonders if he's noticed you as well. This store is your late afternoon treat, after all. You come here every Friday, without fail, even when you know the inventory is unreplenished, simply to bask in the presence of books.

And then he started coming in regularly, and you had another reason to come.

You never approached him. Something about simply knowing he's there, while remaining a stranger, is thrilling. You can romanticize him if he's a stranger, project all the wholesome fantasies and book boyfriends you have upon him with no sense of accountability.

It also means you avoid the disappointment if he turns out to be another condescending know it all, eager to put you and your reading habits down because oh your tastes are so girly.

No, this was better. You're a flaneur, you tell yourself, you're here to be part of the space and observe from within, even though you doubt this is what Baudelaire had in mind when he wrote that essay and defined the term.

Still.

You smile to yourself, crouching down to check the books on the lower shelf, and also to catch a glimpse of his legs. He'd been on the other side of this shelf for the past five minutes, and you've gotten a soft chuckle when you saw his mismatched socks.

However, his lean form is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have moved to another aisle. With a small frown, you move to stand up, only to feel a tug.

“Shit,” a quick glance down reveals that a familiar looking shoe has accidentally stepped on your long skirt. You hadn't realized it billowed out around you when you knelt down.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!”

You look up and realize why the shoe looks familiar. It's him. You couldn't see him in the other aisle because he'd moved to your side, so silently you hadn't even heard him.

“Sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t notice.” He steps off quickly, and you watch as his cheeks bloom bright pink. A pink that quickly travels down his neck.

You stifle a laugh at how easily he blushed. “It's fine.” Your attempt to stand is more successful without his foot pinning the fabric of your skirt to the ground.

“I've messed up your skirt though.” He says, looking at the brown smudge left behind on the skirt.

“It's no big deal, it’ll come out.” You shrug, getting a good look at him this time. He's taller than you thought, with a sharp bone structure that's softened by large, hazel eyes and pouty lips. His hair is slicked back, curling at the nape of his neck, the color a soft brown that matches his eyes. Yeah, one of him should really come in every bookstore, you think.

“O-okay, uh, if you're sure…” He says, rubbing his hands on his pants. A nervous energy emanates from him, disrupting your idea that he's calm and tranquil.

Oh well, there goes that fantasy. Still, you wonder if maybe he's nervous because of you.

“I still feel bad though,” He adds, looking around, “Uh, how about I buy you a book for the inconvenience?”

“It's hardly an inconvenience,” You laugh, “But hey, I won't say no to a free book.”

He perks up, “Great. I'm Spencer, by the way.”

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Spencer.”

He repeats your name, and you find yourself enjoying the shape his mouth makes as he tests it out, lips and tongue wrapping around the syllables as if he wants to commit the way it feels in his memory.

You mentally kick yourself in the ass, wondering if you've read too many romance novels.

“Likewise,” He smiles, and you have to remind yourself that it's rude to stare at the lips of someone you just met. It's not your fault he has such pretty dimples, and you had the urge to count them. He continues, “So what kind of books do you like, Y/N? Romance?”

Your eyes narrow at that. You wonder how to answer. Yes? Would he judge you if you say yes? Is he one of those guys, the ones who only read heavy, intellectual books and look down on people who read fluff? Do you want to try and impress him by saying no, by scoffing and saying something like of course not I’m looking for a copy of Swann's Way by Marcel Proust? (which is the most “impressive” book you can think of at the moment). The idea seems too gross, too I'm not like other girls, and you immediately cross it out.

“And if I do?” you ask instead, surprised by the edge to your voice.

He blinks, then shrugs, looking entirely innocent. “Then we should head to the romance shelf over there.”

Once again, you're surprised. Some part of you had been expecting a smirk, maybe a roll of his eyes, that look you get when you even dare to bring up the romance genre. But, no. He starts walking to a different part of the store and you're forced to follow.

“Why did you think I read romance?” the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

He ducks behind a shelf, his hair falling down and hiding his face but you get a glimpse of the bright red skin of his neck. He's blushing again.

“Well, it's - ah - that is, I've noticed you here before, and you always seemed to hang out here in the romance section.” He says in a rush, his head still angled away from you.

You feel simultaneously called out, and a little giddy. So he's noticed you, just as much as you'd noticed him.

“So you're a stalker.” You can't help but tease.

He lets out a sound, somewhere between an indignant sputter and a scoff. “What? No! I just happen to be very observant, it's a skill I've learned to hone for my job, and you're not very hard to remember-” He cuts himself off, peeking at you with a horrified look on his face.

Laughter tumbles from your lips, and you clamp your teeth down your bottom lip to stop.

“I was teasing you.” You say, trying to fight the giggles.

He seems relieved, but the crease on his brow remains, a sign of his previous embarrassment.

“And you're right. The romance section has the biggest amount of secondhand books that I can read while I'm here.” You explain. This aisle also gives you the best view of the nonfiction section, which he frequents, therefore giving you the perfect spot to observe him over the past few weeks. Though you leave out that part.

“Ah,” He nods, looking around, “See anything you like?”

“No, I'm actually looking for a copy of The Hobbit right now.”

He lights up, “Oh, you're a fan of Tolkien too? I love him, he's such a genius and completely innovated the fantasy genre! So much so that he - wait, if you're looking for The Hobbit, why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“You just started walking.” You reply, smiling at him. He's adorable when he becomes so animated, hands waving around like his body can't contain his excitement and has to find ways to express them physically. “Had to follow you. But anyway, I'm assuming you've read The Hobbit?”

He accepts your explanation easily, then nods his head. You can't help but compare him to a puppy, so eager and nearly frantic in his excitement.

“I've read every Tolkien book.” He says, and you're surprised to find his voice contains no hint of superiority, or cockiness. Just genuine joy. It's refreshing, “Including The Silmarillion."

“Oh wow,” You laugh, aware of the reputation that tome carries, “I've only seen the Lord of The Rings movies.”

“Well that's not sufficient at all! You're missing out on so much history,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mhm, well help me find The Hobbit first, before I move on to the trilogy.” You reply, already walking over to where you know the fantasy books are.

He follows you, smiling bashfully, “You know, I have copies of all the books… I can just lend them to you, if you want.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder in surprise. “You'd let a stranger borrow your books?”

“Only if you promise to take care of them.” He says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I swear on my life, I will not tarry your precious copies of Tolkien's masterpiece.” You make a cross over your heart for emphasis, which makes him laugh. This time, you stare at his lips shamelessly, enjoying the dimples that appeared from the action.

“Okay, maybe we meet up over coffee sometime?” he asks, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I'll bring the books.”

You fight the urge to squeal. Your body refuses to contain the giddiness, and the sound compromises by coming out as a giggle.

“Yeah, sure.” you watch as he digs into his pocket, handing over a card. “Oh, how very professional.” You say playfully, accepting the slip of paper.

He ducks his head, and you see the beginnings of the blush creeping down his neck. It feels exhilarating, being able to make him blush like this.

“It's just more practical.” He mumbles.

You grab your phone quickly, typing in his number and giving it a call, so that your number goes through his as well. “I'll give you a call. But, you still owe me a book for this.” You motion at your skirt, at the stain of his footprint on the fabric.

He chuckles, “Of course. Can't go back on my promise.” he looks around the store and you're taken by the sight of him, looking like he's part of the space, like he simply belongs here. And this time, with you standing next to him, with him. “Take your pick.”

“I'm pretty indecisive.” You say playfully.

“I have time.” He smiles, and you find he has two dimples on one side of his face, and only one on the other. Your chest feels heavy with something that you can't quite put a name to yet, but you're eager for more of it.

[liyue-harbour]

lighter's 6-step guide to ruining your kitchen (and winning your heart)

lighter lorenz x reader (why 6 steps? idk)

summary: what starts as lighter trying to fix your broken coffee maker turns into an explosion of chaos, tools, and laughter. he's confident— too confident— but even as things spiral out of control, you can't help but enjoy the mess. (he's trying his best)

you eyed the old coffee maker like it had personally wronged you. in fairness, it kind of had— months of leaking water, leaking coffee, sputtering, and smelling vaguely like burnt plastic had left you at your wit's end. when lighter showed up for a visit and saw you glaring at it, he made the offer:

"i can fix that for you."

you raised a skeptical eyebrow. "can you?"

"please," he said, rolling up his sleeves with the bravado of someone who definitely had no idea what they were doing. "i've tackled bigger challenges."

step one: the toolbox gauntlet

it started innocently enough. you dug out the dusty old toolbox you hadn’t touched in years while lighter sets the coffee maker on your kitchen counter like it was a patient awaiting surgery.

"this is a mess," he said, holding up a screwdriver and spinning it in his fingers like he was auditioning for a hardware commercial.

"i know," you replied. "that's why i was going to buy a new one."

"where's the fun in that?" lighter grinned at you. "trust me, i've got this."

famous last words.

step two: controlled chaos (emphasis on chaos)

lighter pops open the back panel with alarming confidence, revealing a tangled mess of wires. "here's your problem," he said, pointing at the horrifying jumble like it was obvious.

"oh really?" you deadpanned. "i thought it was working perfectly."

he ignored your sarcasm and started tinkering, tools clinking against the counter as he muttered things like "that's weird" and "pretty sure this goes here". you leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the spectacle unfold. at one point, a small spark shot out of the machine, and both of you jumped back.

"totally normal," lighter said, though his wide eyes behind his tinted glasses betrayed him.

"normal for what? a sci-fi action movie?"

"relax", he said waving you off. "i've got it under control."

you weren't sure what definition of "control" he was using, but it definitely wasn't yours.

step three: the great coffee maker escape

things escalated when lighter attempted to plug the machine back in for a test run. it hummed ominously, sputtered, and then released a small puff of smoke. you grabbed a kitchen towel, ready to smother it in case of fire.

"uh, that's... progress?" lighter offers weakly.

"progress toward a lawsuit," you muttered, fanning the smoke away.

he finally threw in the towel, setting the screwdriver down with an exaggerated sigh. "okay, maybe it's more stubborn that i thought."

"lighter, it's dead." you laughed, shaking your head. "you didn't fix it— you put it out of misery."

step four: damage control

despite the chaos, lighter didn't look defeated. in fact, he looked entirely too pleased with himself as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and smirked at you. "hey at least we tried," he said. "and by we, i mean me, because i did all the work."

“oh, yes, all your hard work ruining my kitchen,” you teased, gesturing to the tools and coffee maker debris scattered everywhere.

“ruined is a strong word,” he countered, nudging you with his elbow. “i prefer ‘temporarily restructured.’”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “well, thank you for temporarily restructuring my coffee maker into a pile of junk.”

“anytime,” he said, his grin widening. “seriously, though, i’ll help you pick out a new one. one with fewer... deathtrap vibes.”

“appreciated,” you said, grabbing a damp cloth to start cleaning up.

step five: the clean-up crew

cleaning was just as chaotic as the diy attempt. lighter insisted on washing his hands in the tiniest sink possible, accidentally knocking over a glass in the process. you spent more time dodging his elbows than actually organising the tools.

“maybe stick to your day job,” you joked, shoving a wrench back into the toolbox.

“funny,” he replied, leaning over the counter to grab a towel. “i think i make an excellent handyman.”

“sure,” you said, smirking. “if the goal is to create more problems than you started with.”

he shot you a mock-offended look, but the glimmer in his eye gave him away. “you wound me.”

step six: the aftermath

by the time the kitchen was semi-clean and the coffee maker officially declared beyond repair, you were both leaning against the counter, exhausted but grinning.

“you know,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “you’re banned from fixing anything in my apartment ever again.”

“fair enough,” he replied, straightening up. “but admit it—you had fun.”

“fun?” You gave him a look. “that’s what we’re calling this disaster?”

“a masterpiece of domestic chaos,” he corrected, his grin teasing.

you laughed, shaking your head. “alright, fine. it was... entertaining.”

“entertaining?” he leaned closer, raising an eyebrow. “try ‘the best time you’ve had all week.’”

“don’t push it,” you said, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

© liyue-harbour 2024 masterlist

[wonderjanga]

Code-Switching

Billy code-switches every now and then and doesn’t even realize it.

Marvel: *talking in his normal voice to Mary*

Reporter: *pops out of nowhere with a camera man behind her* “Captain Marvel we’d like to discuss with you today about the recent incident with Sivana.”

Marvel: *almost immediately switches to a transatlantic accent* “Of course!”

Reporter: *almost gets whiplash from how fast he switched* “Right, well could you fill us in on the details?”

Marvel: “Sure I can.” *starts talking with the accent and even using old-timey lingo*

Reporter: *walked away from the interview only knowing barely half of what happened cause she could barely understand half of the things he said*

Fawcitizens: “Ah yes. I see.” *understood perfectly*

The reporter wasn’t originally from Fawcett and came after to time bubble so she could get the latest scoops on Marvel.

or

Marvel: *comforting an abused kid with the absolute kindest and most compassionate look on his face*

Abused Kid: *crying*

Marvel: *picks kid up and gives them to their mom and heads over to the Abusive Dad*

Abusive Dad: “What’re you looking at, asshole?!”

Marvel: *kind ahh smile immediately fades and proceeds to promise to do the most torturous and gruesome things to the man*

Police: *look away like the aren’t hearing a thing*

Marvel: *looks back to the kid and is smiling again. Gives the kid a little wave*

or

He was under the effects of a magic spell that was supposed to mimic the effect of being drugged.

Marvel: *nearly passed out on the floor, family guy style*

Flash: “Oh my god!” *rushes over and leans down, shaking Marvel a lot* “Cap, are you okay?!”

Marvel: *thinks Wally is Freddy and frog blinks at him, annoyance crossing his face at being shaken* “Freddy, get the fuck offa me.” *literally puts his hand on Flash’s face and pushes it away*

Flash: *a little gobsmacked cause he’s never heard Marvel curse before* “Wha-”

Marvel: “Now, get outta here. Or I’ll beat you.” *shakes his fist at him before making a dismissive gesture with his hand* “Shoo shoo.” *promptly passes out*

Flash: *doesn't know how to feel about the friendliest guy he knows telling him he’ll beat him* “Alright buddy.” *helps him up and makes the long trek to a zeta tube so he can get Marvel to the medbay*

When Marvel woke up…

Flash: “Cap, you’re awake! Are you feeling better now?”

Marvel: *sits up in the cot he’s in* “Uh… yeah I’m fine.”

Flash: “You sure…? Cause, I mean, you were saying some pretty interesting stuff back there.”

Marvel: “What stuff? Did I say something weird?” *praying to the gods that he didn’t accidentally reveal his identity*

Flash: “Kinda?”

*silence*

Flash: “Yousaidyou’dbeatme.” *says super fast*

Marvel: “WHAT?” *sounds horrified* “Oh my Gods, I’m so sorry?!”

Flash: “It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s just who in the world is Freddy? And what did he do to warrant you telling him that you’d beat him for stopping you from trying to sleep??”

Marvel: “Uh…” *doesn’t really have much of an excuse other than that’s just how Freddy and him talk to each other*

Billy spent the rest of the day avoiding Flash’s questions.

[darnell-la]

just imagine logan as a lone wolf who lives in a cabin in the middle of the forest and maybe the reader is just an ordinary girl (maybe shes a farmer or a gardener) that lives behind the forest and she needs to cross the path along the forest every day to go home, it goes down to rain and she gets lost, and finds logans cabin.

Then she looks at logan for the first time and its just love at first sight.

Well maybe lust, but also love.

note: Logan lives far from civilization in this story, so you can imagine when a young lady, the only person he sees daily, accidentally steps too far into his property wet and dirty. He can’t help but invite her in and pray for the best.

———

Y/n had been running through the woods for what felt like hours, eyes constantly getting rain in them as her shoes soaked. She could barely feel her feet, and her clothes were drenched.

“Oh my god,” y/n said, coming across Mister Howlett’s house, a man she’d never seen but had heard of. One part of her was happy seeing the house, knowing she had gone the right way, but the other half still hurt her head. She has ten or so minutes of running and no walking.

Y/n walked in front of the house, about to pass until an alarm went off, almost scaring her out of her shoes.

Lights flashed on the young lady as she heard rustling coming from inside the house. “Goddamnit,” she cussed under her breath, realizing she had stepped too far into the man’s property. She never does, but it’s raining hard tonight, and she can barely see.

“Who the fuck is on my property!?” A man asked, voice sounding a bit different than an average male. “I-I’m sorry, I-I always walk this way, I just walked a bit too far into the grass. I-It’s raining heavy out here,” she said, loud enough for him to hear her over the rain.

Logan walked past the frame of his front door, revealing the shotgun he had in hand. At first, she was terrified, but her mind instantly forgot about the weapon in his hands as her eyes scanned the rest of his body.

“I see,” the man said, scanning the young lady. He wore thick blue jeans, with a beat-up heavy belt, and his tank top was white and dirty. Y/n on the other hand had an amazing outfit. A fluffy skirt with an uptight crop top.

Of course, all of it was drenched, but the man had seen how good she looked earlier today, like every day. He never gets a good look at her, but the consistency of her going to work or whatever she did every day, seemed to rub Logan the right way.

“C’mon in — Let the weather cool down a bit,” Logan suggested, tone still unfriendly, but she understood she could’ve woken him up. “Oh, uh- Thank you,” she said as she approached his doorstep.

Once the two met eyes, it was almost like everything from then was in slow motion. The way they blinked, how slow they stepped, when he talked, telling her to take her shoes off for him to dry, and when he locked his front door.

“So — What do you do exactly?” Y/n asked as she shifted on his couch to look at him who was at the end of the same couch she was sitting on. He never sits on the long couch, but tonight, he felt like it.

“Chop wood, give to the community, fix up the land, and cook,” he said before taking a sip of the whiskey he had poured and offered her, but she told him she wasn’t a drinker.

“Sounds like a lot of work,” she said, making him chuckle. “Maybe for you, princess,” the man said with a look over his reading glasses before he looked back down at the newspaper he was reading.

“I work hard — Just in other ways,” she smiled. “And what is it you do, Bub?” The man asked, now placing the newspaper down to listen. He was interested. He didn’t know why, but he was.

“I write online books and sell clothes. These! I made myself. Hope I can dry them without it messing up,” she said as she tugged on her clothes. “You made that?” He asked, slightly surprised.

“Mhm hm — Took a while, but I got through,” she smiled. “Maybe I can dry it. I mean, I don’t think the rain’s gonna slow down anytime soon, so you can just stay here until they air dry in my basement,” he offered.

“You can take my bed. It’s clean, and my room has a lock if it makes you uncomfortable that a man’s in the house,”

Y/n stayed silent, thinking to herself. It didn’t seem like too much of a bad idea. She didn’t know the man, but he was a neighbor. She passes his house all the time, and she’s sure he’s seen her before.

“I’ll stay,” she said, making Logan huff out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in. “Let’s head upstairs. It’s late, and I was going to close up down here anyway,”

Logan had shown y/n to his room, telling her she could make herself at home as he pulled out a shirt she could wear to bed.

“When you wake up, I’ll have your clothes in front of the door, alright?” He asked. “Okay, uh- I know I’m asking for a lot now, but is it possible to take a shower?” She asked.

Logan looked at her body, almost forgetting she wasn’t clean. Her legs had mud in them, her skin was wet, and her hair had branches in leaves in them. He had ignored all of that before. He hadn’t cared what she looked like. She looked pretty no matter what.

“Of course,” the man said before he went into his closet to grab a towel. “You can use my bedroom bathroom. It’s clean too,” he said, making sure she didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for this all. I’ll repay you someday,” she looked up at him as he gave her a towel. “You don’t have to. I would never leave a pretty girl in the dark,” y/n giggled at his response, happy she knew he thought she was pretty.

“Hey, Bub, I almost forgot to give you some soap. Those in there are a bit strong smellin, so I’ve got some normal scents for ya,”

Logan knocked on the door bathroom door a few minutes after the had started the shower. “Oh my, thank you!” Y/n said as she hopped out of the tub and slightly opened the door, covering anything that could be seen.

“Of course, princ-“ the man had cut himself off as he looked behind her, seeing her figure in the mirror. “What's wrong?” Y/n asked as she followed his eyes, looking behind him before she let out a scream.

“Oh my god!” The main tried covering herself up as the door slowly opened. Logan wanted to look away, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the younger woman.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Y/n said, covering as much as she could as she looked up at him. “It ain’t like Ian seen a naked woman before, Bub,” Logan said. Y/n let out a sigh, knowing a man who looked like him had definitely seen enough naked women to not feel disgusted or anything by her.

“Okay, okay,” she caught her breath, still covering herself up as Logan stood in the door frame, scanning her body. Her wet skin which wasn’t completely clean yet, made him feel a type of way. She made him feel a type of way, but he wanted to be respectful.

“I’ll leave you to it, princess,” Logan said before he went to turn around, but y/n stopped him. “Wait!” She said. “I-I need the soap,” she spoke low, making him realize he never exchanged it with her.

“Oh, shit- Yeah, yeah,” Logan said as he handed the bottle to the young lady. Y/n grabbed it, pulling at it so she could take a shower and ignore how embarrassed he was, but he kept a grip on the bottle.

He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to see what she would do.

“Is something wrong, Mister Howlett?” She asked. He loved the way his name rolled off of her lips. He never thought he’d love his last name more. What was this random girl doing to him?

“Yeah, it’s just- I don’t know,” he said, making her smile slightly. “I-If you wanna join me, you can. You know, to save water?” She suggested, surprising the man. She even surprised herself.

“You sure, Bub?” The man wanted to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming all night. “Yes-“ Before she could finish, the man threw the soap bottle to the side, grabbed the woman by her face, and pulled her into a rough passionate kiss, making sure his tongue slipped right in.

Y/n instantly maimed in his mouth at the aggression. He gave back a groan as he picked her up and placed her on the wooden sink counter.

Logan ripped his white tank top off before pulling his jeans down, revealing the hard-on he had since he saw her outside in the rain.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard, Bub. Don’t know why,” he said, making her giggle. “Maybe because I’m pretty?” She suggested, making him laugh. “That’s definitely one reason, Bub,”

Logan spat on his fingers before wiping the across her cunt which was already leaking. “Fuck,” y/n cussed under her breath as her body hitched.

“Mhm, potty mouth,” she said with a smile before he licked his fingers, tasting the mess he had just wiped across. “Fuck, you taste good,”

Logan put his cock in hand before lining up. When he pushed at her entrance, she instantly tightened around him. “Fuck,” Logan groaned, hands gripping the sides of her ass to pull her into him.

“Oh my god,” y/n cried out as his length buried inside of her completely. “Fuck, yes,” the man huffed out as he rested his head on her shoulder. “Ian gonna last,” he admitted, slightly embarrassed, but she loved it.

“Good — Makes me know you like me back,” she said. The man chuckled against her skin, moving his face until his slips were on her neck. “You gonna take it all?” He asked, kissing along her neck with a few nibbles.

“Yes, Mister Howlett,” she said. “C’mon, Bub — Ian that old,” he chuckled as he moved his hips, slowly thrusting into the woman to take in his good or felt, the way she gripped him.

“I like them old,” she admitted. “Oh, really? Is that why you’re so wet right now? Because you’re working my cock so fuckin’ much,” the man said in her ear, making her whine.

“Yes — Yes, that's why,” she admitted again. “Well luckin’ me,” Logan snapped his hips, getting ready to spill deep into her.

“P-Please cum in me,” she begged as she wrapped her legs around his waist, making sure he knew she really wanted it. She needed it.

“Wasn’t gonna do it any else were, Bub,”

[chrisweetheart]

perv!matt getting flustered after you accidentally flash him...

smut, innocence corruption, oral (m receiving), riding, pet names, teasing, no use of y/n, getting caught, praising, creampie, face fucking

2.1k

“why is it so hot in here?" you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. leaning your head against nick's chest, you try to focus on the movie you suggested, but the heat makes it hard to relax. across from you, matt is sprawled on the other couch, absorbed in his phone.

"nick, move a second," you say, pulling your head off his chest as you begin tugging off your sweatshirt. you don’t realize at first, but your tank top lifts with it. to make things worse, matt happens to look up from his phone at the exact moment.

"your shirt—holy shit!" nick exclaims, quickly pulling it back down to cover you.

"oh my god, i’m so sorry!" you gasp, eyes wide with shock as embarrassment washes over you. you steal a glance at matt, catching him mid-gulp, his face flushing pink as the moment replays in his head, his mouth agape. he struggles to look away, his gaze lingering on your chest.

in the corner of your eye, you notice something else—matt’s grey sweatpants, doing little to hide the growing bulge beneath them.

you leaned back on the couch, a playful idea forming after seeing matt so flustered. deciding to tease him, you slowly ran your fingertips up your torso, pausing at the strap of your tank top. matt’s eyes were still fixed on you, widening as he nervously grabbed a pillow, trying to discreetly cover the evidence of his arousal before nick could notice.

with a coy smile, you slipped your fingers under the strap, pulling it down just enough to reveal your hardened nipple. matt's eyes widened even further, caught between desire and panic, unsure where to look or how to react.

“i—i need to go shower,” matt muttered, his voice shaky as he shoved his hands into his pockets and hurriedly walked toward the nearest bathroom.

“what’s he in such a rush for?” nick asked, turning to watch matt disappear around the corner and sprint up the stairs.

“he’s a weird kid,” you giggled, giving nick’s leg a playful tap. "i’m getting tired, though. do you mind if i head to sleep? i mean, i can totally stay if you want me to," you offered, feeling a slight bit of guilt about what you were planning to do to his innocent younger brother.

“no, it’s fine! go get some rest,” nick replied with a smile. you gave him a light kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair as you stood up, heading toward the stairs, quietly following in matt's footsteps.

you pressed your ear gently against the bathroom door, you could hear the soft whimpers and the faint sound of your name escaping matt's lips. the sweet, desperate way he murmured it sent a surge of heat through you, and before you knew it, you were already wet, the anticipation stirring something deep inside you.

the thrill of knowing he had no idea you’d followed him made your heart race, adrenaline surging through your veins. suddenly, the door swung open, and there he was, standing right in front of you. his face flushed bright red, eyes wide with shock as you looked up at him with a feigned innocence, your gaze locking onto his dilated pupils.

"want my help with that, sweet boy?" you whispered, glancing down at his still hard dick, smiling up at him as your hands rested on his chest. the sound of your sultry voice hung in the air, causing his breath to catch, his body reacting immediately to the teasing tone, the hard-on he couldn’t relieve himself still noticeable.

"uh... i—i..." he stammered, his gaze darting away from your eyes, struggling to find the words. “s—sure, okay..." he mumbled, unsure of what you really meant. his innocence was almost painfully obvious.

"follow me, baby," you said with a playful smile, taking his hand. as you led him to his bedroom, he couldn't help but let his eyes drift to your ass, completely entranced.

you swung the bedroom door open and gently pushed matt onto the soft bed, his back pressing against the headboard.

his eyes widened as you slowly straddled his thigh, careful not to move too quickly. you could sense his inexperience, knowing he'd never felt the touch of a woman like this before.

he felt your wetness against his thigh, a rush of excitement flooding him at the realization that you wanted him this badly. as much as you ached to grind down and find your own release, you reminded yourself that tonight was all about matt's pleasure.

he seemed unsure of what to do with his hands, keeping them awkwardly pressed to his sides as his gaze darted nervously around the room. his face flushed a deep red, so flustered that it was almost endearing.

you trailed feather-light kisses up the nape of his neck, drawing a soft, almost desperate whimper from his lips at the simple touch. "already so loud," you teased, your voice low as you began sucking hickeys onto his skin, marking him with dark bruises.

pulling away, you slowly peeled off your tank top, teasing him with every inch revealed until your perky breasts were fully exposed. "finally got a good look, huh?" you giggled, watching as his wide eyes locked onto your chest, his breath hitching. he swallowed hard, feeling his cock strain uncomfortably against his sweatpants.

he nodded frantically, running his fingers through his hair, now damp and sticking to his forehead from sweat. "don't be scared," you reassured him, knowing he wanted to touch you but was too nervous, afraid of making a mistake. gently, you took his trembling hands and placed them on your chest. he began massaging them softly, careful as if he thought he might hurt you if he applied too much pressure.

when his fingers tentatively pinched your hardened nipples and rolled them between his thumb and index finger, a soft whimper escaped your lips. "so, you do know what you're doing?" you teased, your voice almost breaking into a needy whine.

"i—i guess... not really. i've just... watched a couple things," he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed.

“oh, really?" you murmured with a sly smile, your fingertips tracing over his clothed cock. he let out a loud whine, squirming uncomfortably, desperate for more. "you want me to touch you?" you asked, your voice dripping with temptation.

"p—please," he whispered, releasing your breasts and clutching the sheets beneath him as your fingers teased him slowly, driving him mad.

"beg for it," you smirked, watching his eyes widen in surprise. embarrassment flushed his face as he bit his trembling lip, clearly conflicted but so desperate for your touch.

"i'll do anything... jus' want your mouth on my d—dick," he stammered, barely getting the last word out, his need overcoming his hesitation.

the desperation in his voice was enough to make you relent. slowly, you slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down until his length sprung free, slapping against his lower stomach. you continued, sliding them all the way down to his ankles. his tip was red and swollen, a few beads of pre-cum already glistening at the slit, betraying just how sensitive he was.

you looked up at him, your gaze intense, as his eyebrows furrowed in anticipation. he gripped the back of the headboard, his body tense. slowly, you lowered your head, sticking your tongue out to place a soft, teasing lick on his tip. "s—shit!" he gasped, his reaction sharp at the slightest touch.

“so sensitive," you whispered, your voice sending a shiver through him, making his entire body tense as the vibrations intensified against his cock.

he panted heavily, his eyes squeezed shut as his head fell back, lost in pleasure.

"eyes open. look at me," you commanded, pulling your mouth off his dick. his eyes shot open, meeting yours instantly. you locked eyes as you wrapped your lips around his tip again, and his hips bucked slightly, making you gag.

"ah—fuck, yeah," he groaned, and the sound sent a throb straight to your clit. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, turning it swollen and flushed, driving your desire higher.

he grew more confident, his fingers hesitantly gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he started to fuck your face. spit coated his cock, slick and messy, dripping down as his tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat.

"m’gonna cum—please," he whined, his voice trembling as you gripped his thighs for support.

"cum f’me, pretty boy," you urged, feeling his stomach tense beneath your touch as he edged closer to release.

"mmph—!" he whimpered loudly, his body trembling as warm ropes of cum spilled down your throat.

your mouth slipped off his sensitive cock with a wet pop, and he hissed from the overstimulation. "now it's your turn to help me," you said, your voice low and commanding.

as he remained propped against the headboard, you stood up and turned around, slipping off your sweatpants and lacy black thong in one fluid motion. his eyes followed every movement, as you bent over. for a few moments, you stood before him, silent, letting him take in the sight of your body. this was the first time he had ever seen a woman naked in person, and his gaze lingered.

"y’so pretty," he murmured confidently, his voice low as he grew hard again. you approached him with deliberate, teasing slowness, the air between you thick with tension. straddling his lap, you placed your hands on his shoulders for balance, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. you were so wet by now that it took little effort to guide him, gripping the base of his cock and gliding it slowly through your slick folds, teasing both of you with the anticipation.

you slowly sank down onto his length, taking him in completely until you were fully seated, your body relaxing against his. "fuck—" he groaned, exhaling sharply as the sensation of your walls tightening around him overwhelmed him.

you guided his hands to your hips, urging him to hold you as you began to grind slowly against him. “so full," you whimpered, your voice breathless as his cock stretched and filled you perfectly. each slow movement sent waves of pleasure through you, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans.

"so fuckin' tight around me," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass as he pulled you closer. you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his neck and up to his jaw, the sensation of your body moving against his driving you both wild. as you bounced on his cock, the sound of slapping skin echoed through the room

“matt—!" you moaned, the sound desperate and unrestrained as your movements quickened. each time you sank down, his hips thrust up to meet yours, hitting your sweet spot with perfect precision, making your pussy tighten around him.

"m’so close," he groaned, his breath ragged, already on the edge of his second orgasm of the night.

"jus'... wait for me," you murmured, leaning forward, your breath shaky. matt immediately took your left breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he sucked softly. his hand moved to your right breast, gently massaging it, making sure neither of them was left wanting. the sensation made you tremble, every touch amplifying the building heat between you both.

a cry escaped your lips as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving scratches in your wake. your legs trembled uncontrollably as you both reached the peak together. you felt his warmth spill inside you, his cum painting your walls in waves of pleasure. slowly, you relaxed on top of him, both of you breathless as he pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your back.

"can we do that more often?" matt muttered, his voice muffled as he smiled into the nape of your neck. you looked down at him, gently brushing his brunette curls away from his face. with a soft smile, you leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips—tender and loving, a stark contrast to the messy one you'd shared just moments before.

you rolled off his body, settling beside him on the bed, feeling his cum slowly drip down your thighs. matt stood up, heading into the bathroom. he returned with a flannel in hand, gently cleaning you up as you ran your fingers through his hair.

afterwards, you both got dressed and quietly made your way down the stairs, fingers intertwined. you tiptoed, hoping nick had already gone to bed.

"i think we're good," you giggled, leaning up to press a long kiss to matt's lips.

"y'all gotta be quieter next time," nick muttered, and you both froze in shock, turning around to find him standing there, his voice the last thing you expected to hear.

@ CHRISWEETHEART

⋆˙⟡ tags : @chrattenthusiast @bernardsbendystraws @chestersturniolo @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @freshloverr @fruitglazed @hearts4chriss @kenzieiskoolaid @mattscoquette @ariestrxsh @mattssluttywaist @muwapsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @nicksbf @onmykneesformatt @plasticferal @pussypie456 @recklesssturniolo @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @whoreforchr1s @yesterdaysproblem @christinarowie332 @itwasmarooonn @freakyellssturniolo @delilahsturniolo @333michelle @annielolz @cconeyislandbaby @chriseatingmeoutin4k @n8doe @jetaimevous @sleepysturn @stonersturns @forgottxen @colorthecosmos444 @faith5drpepper @here4thsmut @chrissminipizzas @ifwdominicfike @strnilolover @lolastrniolo @stvrnzwrld

made for @lolastrniolo <3

[tan1shere]

I'm Sorry

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: saw this video on tiktok of this girl accidentally breaking a gift her bf got her and her being so apologetic, and I can just imagine how bill would be with you:(

Summary: Billie reassures you when you accidentally break her gift.

Warnings: none just fluff ! Kinda angst tho ??

Masterlist

It was time again. Your birthday, just another year of getting older. You were currently laying in bed, half asleep as the sun was shining through the curtains. You then feel hands on your shoulders. "Babyy, its your birthday!" Billie sings as she says that. You cover your face. "Does it have to be." She plops down on the bed. "Oh come on, it's not every day you're 21!" You open an eye to see she had a few gifts. Your other eye opens as you look at her. "Bubba, I thought we agreed on two at most." She puts her finger up to your lips. "I couldn't help myself."

You sigh with a bright smile, sitting up to prepare for her little gifts. She hands you the first one, some clothes you had been wanting. Next up, some skin care. She was always so thoughtful of the things you needed. And lastly, maybe your favorite. You open up the wrapping revealing a glass red rose. You marvel at it. "I know how much you love roses and how upset you get when they start to die, but this way you can have it all the time." She smiles at you. Your eyes meet hers as you almost have tears in them. You leap over to hug her tightly.

"Thank you baby! I love it so so much." She smiles. "Knew you would." Her hands grab your face, thumb swiping over your cheek. "Happy birthday angel." She leans in to kiss you softly, so glad you like the gifts. "Some of them came from your mother. I put them in a vase already for you." You then kiss her cheek, placing the glass rose down on the bedside table. "Thank you babe, I'll go smell them soon."

A few days pass and you honestly had the best birthday ever, Billie was spoiling you like crazy. Took you out for a nice meal too. Today you were working from home, doing some needed chores along the way. Bill was at Finneases working on some stuff in his studio. You did take a small break though. Getting into bed and scrolling for a glass case to put around your new gift. Just to make sure it's safe. You go to grab your water, but as you do. Eyes glued to your screen. You hear a shatter. Uh oh. Your head turns slowly.

Panic rising within you. "Fuck. No no no." You say frantically trying not to freak out. You get on the floor picking up the pieces. Shit. It was really broken. You cry. Cry because you broke the sweetest gift, given by the sweetest person and you broke it. You curse at yourself. You feel so stupid. You're an idiot your brain tells you.

How.

Could.

You.

You grab the pieces, but as you do you accidentally cut your finger. "Shit!" You winced. How could this get any worse. You pick up any remaining shards. Standing up and contemplating. She was gunna hate you. You thought. You don't blame her, you had only just got it. Your hands go to your hair, all these bad thoughts rushing through. You were going to have a shower after you got the case. But now you don't even need the case because you stupidly broke the rose. So. Stupid. Your tears still streaming down your face, you felt so awful. The image of Billie being so hurt right after she was so excited giving it to you.

You get into the shower, sliding down the wall. All you could think about was how she was going to react when she comes home. The hot water ran over your crying form. You hadn't even heard the front door open and Billie calling out like she always does. Until you hear faint footsteps and the bathroom door open. "Baby?" Had she seen it yet...

"Y-yeah.." You reply, she opens up the curtain to see you in the position you were in. Confused as anything. "What's going on love?" She always knew when something was bothering you. "I'm so sorry." You pathetically cry out. "Baby, talk to me." She says stopping the water from running. You just shake your head, lip quivering. "Sweetheart, please." You take a moment. "Don't hate me." You weakly say. "How could I ever?" Her bewilderment made your heart ache more for what you are about to tell her.

"Go look on my bedside floor." Your voice was hushed. So incredibly worried as she goes to do so. Her eyes land on the last little bits of glass, looking at the shattered mess on your table. Her heart breaks, but not because you broke it and most definitely by accident. It was because you were so upset, she hated seeing you upset. She comes back in the room to you still in tears. "Bub, hey. It's ok." - "it's not. Im so sorry I'm so-" She stops your apologies. "Baby. We can fix it. It's fixable. And if not I'll just buy you another. I swear to you. It's all ok."

Her voice was tender. So soft and reassuring. Your crying settles just a bit. "Are you sure?" She nods. "So incredibly sure. I'm not mad my girl, never ever would be." Her hand extends out for yours. You take it and get out of the shower. "Are you hurt?" You pout at how sweet she was, you loved this woman to absolute death. "What?" She chuckles. You just shake your head. "Youre just so kind, I love you." She brings you in for a hug, you wrap your arms tightly around her. She couldn't give a single fuck that your body was dripping wet.

It lasted for a long time, before she pulls back and looks at you. "I did just a tiny bit but I'm ok." You state. "Where abouts?" You show her the red mark on your thumb, she grabs it. Bringing it to her lips as kissing it gently. "Like I said before if we can't fix it I'll buy a new one, this time with a case."

"Great idea."

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Trigger warning. Joel triggers your PTSD when you see him drunk for the first time causing you to have flashbacks of your abusive ex.]

Mentions of DV

“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.

Joel knew how you felt about alcohol, he knew the hell you had gone through with your ex boyfriend because of it. Having known him for a year, you and him both traveled alone surviving together. Never had you seen Joel intoxicated, neither of you had come across liquor during your journey and when you did Joel ignored it out of respect for you. Of course, Joel missed the alcohol helping him somewhat sleep at night yet he never mentioned it.

Tonight the two of you had gotten lucky, after being on your feet for nine hours walking through the woods you both came across a cabin that looked as if it had been abandoned for a while now. After making sure it was empty you both claimed it as your own, at least until you had to keep moving again.

“Oh it’s nice to finally have a bed tonight” you looking at the bed at the other end of the room. Joel smirked as he looked around, peaking through the cabinets where he found two full bottles of whiskey. God it had been so long since Joel had a taste, the only thing that numbed him entirely, he craved just a glass.

“What cha find?” You asked as you began to unpack your bag. Joel quickly closing the door and clearing his throat as he moved along.

“Nothin’ uh, a few cans of food and towels” Joel knowing damn well it was nothing to mention.

“Good, I’m hungry” you spoke excitedly as Joel grabbed the cans to sit at the table.

Joel and you lay on the couch, your body slouched against his for a moment as his hand brushed through your hair.

“Oh I’d love to be able to just watch a movie now, have some popcorn” you sighed, the thought making Joel slightly smile.

“What movie would we watch?” He asked curiously.

“Hmmm…I don’t know, how about a romantic comedy?” You winked at him as he playfully shook his head rubbing his eyes.

“Oh baby, I’d watch anything with you” he whispered looking down at you before kissing you softly.

“Who knows, we probably wouldn’t even watch anything” he chuckled as you playfully shoved him.

“We should get sleep” your lips brushing against his as you spoke. He nodded before you pushed yourself up and walked to the bed.

“Are you coming?” You yawned as you dusted the bed off a bit and pulled back the covers.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few” he called out to you before looking back at the cabinet that held the two bottles of whiskey. Too exhausted to wait, your eyes closed and you fell right to sleep.

Once Joel was sure that you were asleep, quietly he got up and stopped right at the cabinet. Looking back at you he reached for the first bottle, slowly opening it up. Without thought Joel began to drink savoring the taste he hadn’t had in so long, wiping his lips feeling the burn in his chest.

“Fuck” It’s just what he needed after not being able to sleep properly in weeks.

Closing his eyes in relief he took another chug before taking the bottle back with him to the couch. Within fourty minutes he was half way through, slowly getting to the bottom. The buzz creeping up on him as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath.

Joel began slowly walking around the cabin, reading some of the frames on the wall when he began to stumble. Reaching for a frame Joel accidentally knocked it to the ground causing you to wake up.

“Joel?”

“Shit” he whispered.

Rubbing your eyes you go out of bed to see Joel across the room.

“You ok?” He turned to you revealing the half empty open bottle in his hand, that’s when you looked at his face and realized he didn’t look like the Joel you knew.

“Didn’t mean to…wake ya..” he whispered as he noticed the way you stared at the bottle in his hand.

“Where’d you get that?” You asked softly as Joel took a deep breath with regret.

“You…-“ he began to walk towards you.

“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.

“Maybe you should….lay down” you spoke nervously as he stopped right before you.

“Shit baby, I fucked up..” he whispered. The smell of alcohol making your stomach turn, the memories of the nightmare you lived with your ex boyfriend now coming back to you. Your heart racing as you felt a panic you never thought you would feel again.

“You’re mad at me, ain’t cha?” He couldn’t hold himself still as he stood before you, you took a step back feeling the wall behind you as you slowly shook your head. Mad wasn’t the word as your nerves took over. You trusted Joel yet seeing him in a way you never had…seeing him in a way your ex had his violent outbursts, you were terrified.

“Don’t be…mad at…..me, baby. Ima make this..right” he slurred.

You watched as he dangled the half empty bottle around before closing the top in a clumsy manner and placing the bottle on the table beside him.

“There” he placed his hands up showing you he was done. As drunk as he was he could see the fear in your eyes.

“Please don’t be mad at me-“ he unexpectedly reached for you causing you to step back against the wall harder than you meant to.

“I ain’t gonna hurt cha” his eyes desperate for you to trust him. Yet, his words only seemed to make it worse. It was something your ex would love to say just before he actually would hurt you.

“Fuck” Joel shoved the chair beside him causing you to jump.

“Stop it! Just stop!” You felt yourself begin to lose any control you thought you had.

“Baby-“

“Just go lay down! Go to sleep!” You couldn’t even look him in the eye. All you wanted desperately was for him to get away from you. Joel stood silent as he took a step back and did as you asked. Quietly going to the bed he lay down and let you be.

As soon as he walked away you began to silently hyperventilate. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to fight off the memories, the trauma…you tried to fight the fear.

You knew you would no longer be able to properly sleep that night. Joel was out in a matter of minutes while you sat up on the couch watching him. Your eyes feeling heavy, it was getting harder to stay awake until eventually you fell asleep.

After a few hours Joel began to wake up. With a slight headache he slowly pushed himself up with a groan before looking up and noticing the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. Quickly he looked around the room to find you sitting on the couch asleep facing him.

“Shit” he whispered to himself brushing his hand through his hair. Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in his mind, one thing he couldn’t stop picturing was how afraid you seemed of him.

Joel stood up walking towards you, he could tell you didn’t mean to fall asleep. You seemed cold and so he grabbed a blanket from the bed and slowly placed it on you. The feel of the blanket covering you causing you to slowly open your eyes and when you did, you jumped not expecting to see Joel standing over you.

“It’s me-“ he tried to assure you.

“It’s me, baby I’m sober, I ain’t drinkin’ I promise” it took a moment for you to realize he actually was sober. There was the Joel you knew staring down at you with concern. Staying silent for a moment you looked around a bit confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep, let alone for how long. You looked at him quietly as you slowly sat up and took a deep breath.

“You-“

“I know” he quickly spoke as he stood up straight.

“I’ve never seen you like that before” you whispered.

“and I….I thought about Cameron and-“ he noticed you begin to slightly tremble.

“I just didn’t know what you were capable of” you blurt out as you held back your tears.

“Scared the hell out of me” Joel brushed his hand over his lips before quickly getting down on one knee.

“Look at me” he spoke low looking directly into your eyes.

“I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever. You understand that?” He was serious. He meant every word he said.

“I wish I could find the prick that did this to you, I guarantee you he’d never have a drink again” you quietly nodded yet he could still see you trembling. It was getting harder for you to control.

“Hey” he placed his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up.

“I ain’t gonna drink again alright? I should’ve never done that” he whispered. You let out a breath of relief and threw your arms around him pulling him in. Joel held you hold close and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, get into bed with me, baby” he slowly lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You watched as he walked to the counter and poured the left over liquor down the drain. As much as Joel loved a drink, your peace of mind was more important to him. Throwing the bottle out the window he walked back to you and lay beside you pulling you close as you fell asleep..

[evie-sturns]

ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.

contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?

----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------

i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.

i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.

i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.

i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,

matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.

hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?

the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.

"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.

his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.

his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.

he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.

i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.

-

we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.

"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.

matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.

"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.

"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.

matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.

"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.

matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"

"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.

"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.

"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.

matt nods nervously,

"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.

matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.

"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.

"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.

"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.

my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.

"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.

"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.

i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.

"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.

“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,

i never knew matt was this big.

my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.

“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse

“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.

matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.

i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.

“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.

“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.

“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.

it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.

his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.

“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.

i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.

“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.

“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.

“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.

-

after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.

“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.

----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------

was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though

I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point

[calicoheartz]

Please write something where paige x teammate!reader is on a live with KK, and then someone asks along the lines of "Are you gay?" and KK starts reading it, and paige and deader both go "don't. " almost like that one live. 💀

And then later the night KK goes on live at a bar or party and then you can accidentally see paige and reader make out in the back ground 👀

-🦢 (ily too)

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !!

wc ; 637

— warnings | mainly fluff , somewhat suggestive !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : anon , you are ALWAYS keeping me fed with your requests !! enjoy besties!:)

Paige and you are sitting in her dorm room, laughing over some inside joke as you scroll through your phones. The off-season has given you both some much-needed downtime, and tonight, you’re planning to relax with a spontaneous Instagram Live. KK, another teammate, joins in from her own room, and soon, the three of you are streaming to your fans.

“Hey, everyone!” KK greets the viewers, grinning widely. “It’s a chill night with your favorite Huskies!”

The comments start pouring in, with fans sending heart emojis, asking questions, and generally expressing their excitement. You and Paige wave at the camera, adding your own comments to the chat.

“So, what should we talk about tonight?” you ask, leaning closer to Paige, who’s reading some of the comments aloud.

“Oh, someone wants to know what our favorite pre-game rituals are,” Paige says, her eyes twinkling as she reads aloud. “I guess we can share that.”

KK jumps in, sharing her ritual first, and then it’s Paige’s turn. You’re about to share yours when a comment catches KK’s attention, and she starts to read it aloud.

“Are you gay?” KK begins, eyes widening slightly.

Before she can continue, both you and Paige, almost in unison, exclaim, “Don’t!”

KK quickly shuts her mouth, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay! Moving on,” she says with a laugh, clearly amused by the synchronized reaction.

The rest of the Live continues smoothly, with more light-hearted questions and fun interactions. Eventually, you all say your goodbyes and end the stream, laughing about the close call.

Later that night, the team decides to unwind at a local bar. The music is loud, the atmosphere electric, and you’re having a great time. You and Paige stick close together, your usual comfort zone, but there’s an underlying tension, a shared look that seems to convey everything you’ve been feeling.

KK, always the life of the party, decides to go live again. She’s capturing the energy of the night, showing everyone dancing, laughing, and just having a good time.

You and Paige find yourselves in a quieter corner of the bar, the noise around you fading into the background as you lean in closer to each other. The moment feels right, the mix of alcohol and the charged atmosphere giving you both a bit of courage.

As you glance over, you realize KK’s live feed is still rolling. She’s panning around, talking to other teammates, and then her camera inadvertently captures you and Paige. Without even realizing it, you lean in, and Paige meets you halfway, your lips meeting in a kiss that feels like it’s been a long time coming.

KK, still chatting away, doesn’t notice immediately. But the viewers do. The comments explode with reactions, and when KK finally notices, her eyes go wide. She quickly turns the camera away, laughing awkwardly.

“Uh, looks like everyone’s having a good time!” she says, trying to cover up the slip.

Meanwhile, you and Paige pull back, both of you blushing but unable to stop smiling. The cat’s out of the bag now, but in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re just happy to finally share this with Paige, no matter how unexpected the reveal might have been.

Later, as you walk back to the dorms together, Paige squeezes your hand. “Well, that’s one way to come out,” she jokes, her eyes shining with amusement.

You laugh, leaning into her. “Yeah, not exactly how I imagined it, but I’m glad it happened.”

Paige stops walking and turns to face you, her expression serious for a moment. “I’m glad too,” she says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss, this one slower, more meaningful.

As the night ends, you know that things might be different now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

cami and her low-key short fics >>>> ... as always thank you so much for reading !!

[star-sim]

"noo! she's taken!" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x celebrity! fem! reader ☆summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆genre: fluff, silly boys ☆warning(s)? ygs liked the maknae ver so here's the hyung ver! maknae ver

heeseung ☆

i think ur a musician here

one of those very personable and insightful ones

giving laufey or mitski yk?

anyways heeseung is THE stan

within your fandom

he's the guy that EVERYONE KNOWS

like ppl will argue who is the best [name] stan and the moment he's brought up they shut their mouths

heeseung does not play around when it comes to stanning you, his gf

somewhat like riki, heeseung runs multiple stan accounts for you

but he's most active and most well-known on 1) youtube and 2) tiktok

all his youtube videos are titled

"[name] concert 11/25/2023 nyc, usa (she looked at me!)"

"[name] concert 11/26/2023 miami, usa"

"[name] concert 11/27/2023 berlin, germany (i touched her hand!)"

"[name] concert 11/28/2023 jakarta, indonesia"

"[name] concert 11/29/2023 melbourne, australia (i met her!)"

like how the fuck is he going to all of these concerts when theyre literal hours apart and OCEANS AWAY

he likes to vlog his concert experiences

and theyre very entertaining because he's like genuinely enjoying himself

on his tiktok he also records his concert experiences

but i also think he posts your fancams and makes edits of you

too many times where an edit of you became known as "that one [name] edit"

he makes a lot of thirst edits of u

too many captions like "i want her so bad" or "she's so fine i need her biblically"

everyone knows who he is, even ppl outside of your fandom or the music scene

hes just that one guy that really likes you

one day ur on tour

its all fine and dandy, ur eating everything up, ur fans are loving it

and heeseung is documenting his concert experience

as he always does

and then it ends and heeseung posts it

however

this concert vlog

is

uh

receiving a lot of attention

TOO MUCH ATTENTION

THAT ITS

VERY

SUSPICIOUS

........

you and hee are just hanging out in your hotel when his phone starts blowing up

and yours too

all the comments on his video are normal, the ones that are expressing playful envy at heeseung's presence at ur concert

and like

it's not like heeseung doesn't get these types of comments

but one comment catches his eye

it has like 50k likes

and hes like oh shit

"at 3:05 heeseung why are you kissing [name]"

kissing.

[name].

he clicks that timestamp

and oh my god

THERES LIKE A CLIP OF HEESEUNG KISSING YOU

you see

when heeseung records your concerts he's recording it both for his fanpage and for the memories

he'll take as many cute couple pictures and videos with you as possible

and he just so happened to accidentally add one of the clips of you and him

kissing.

in fact

he accidentally added A LOT OF CLIPS AND PICTURES of you and him being a couple

ones of you hugging him backstage, ones of you two holding hands, even one where viewers can faintly hear you calling heeseung "babe"

and the other comments

OH LORD THE OTHER COMMENTS

"THAT SHOULD BE ME"

"HEESEUNG MOVE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!"

"i hate seeing people live my dream"

"SHE'S MINE *growls*"

"[NAME] GET BEHIND ME"

obv theyre all half joking half confused, but i think ppl are able to joke w him bc he's such an obnoxious stan 😭

and heeseung is like

poor heeseung is sweating and panicking

bc shit HE JUST EXPOSED UR RELATIONSHIP

but when he tells u

you literally are just like

"okay"

OKAY????

"it's not a big deal"

heeseungs like WHATATATATA

at first he's kinda unsure

bc ur so chill abt it that he's almost afraid that ur actually mad at him 😭

but you legitimately do not care

and when he realizes this

he goes from

😱

to

😈

because

NOW HE CAN FLEX ON EVERYONE

he goes straight to twitter and drops more couple-y pictures of you and him

he probably posts a tiktok that pans over to you on his bed or something

caption like "it's exposed now, but yeah, [name] is actually my gf"

its goes so viral

hes so smug about it too

like whenever he gets into arguments abt who's a better fanpage hes like "I'M LITERALLY A HER BF???"

he becomes an inside joke in ur fandom

i think everyone jokingly flames his ass too

"why did she pick heeseung of all people...."

"pixelated fancam, ass editing, shitty camera, yet [name] still chose him... what did we do wrong"

"[name] wasn't lying in her song when she said she has bad taste in men"

"i can't believe heeseung literally stole my spot... i should be the one that she writes all her love songs about..."

free him 😭😭😭

jay ☆

ooh this one is kinda juicy

ur a musician slay

but sometimes you do modeling

for one of your shoots

you're showing off your midriff and ur just glowing sorry

all ur followers are like

"ughhh step on me [name]"

"i don't think ygs understand i need her"

"[NAME] ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

"i want her."

very quickly goes viral

ur just so hot ughhhhh

but ppl notice something upon closer inspection

you have a tattoo on ur back

at first everyone is like

"okay sexy lady love the tat"

but then

when they look closer

they can't help but see that incorporated into the design

is two

very

specific

letters

J and P

almost like they're someone's initials

🤨🤨🤨

hmmmmm

interesting.....

who is JP?

HMMM???

and now that ppl look at it

you have so many songs and albums that refer to JP

like ur one album

called

"just playing, i love you" but it's commonly abbreviated as "jpily"

JP????? ILY?? JP I LOVE YOU???

WHO THE HELL IS JP

"whoever jp is, he needs to meet me in the parking lot so we can have a talk 😆"

"jp my opp"

"jp kys!!!"

"jp is living my dream"

hehe

you see this

and jay aka mr JP himself sees this

and ur like

yk what let's tease the fans

for the next few months ur just teasing jay's existence

using his intials

like one time you wear a heart necklace that has the letters jp engraved in them

or when you tweeted "i love jp" but followed it up with "Jurassic Park is a wonderful movie 😆"

oh god you make it so obvious

"jp is the reason i make my music" and then following it up with "Jimmy Page is my favoritie guitarist 😛"

like ur fans are tired

and theyre getting outright insane

"guys the winter is getting cold and dire... the voices in my headare telling me that [name] is dating this jp person and i don't know how much longer i can live in denial"

"fuck you jp that should be me!!!"

"i hope jp knows how lucky he is... if a hot woman like [name] tattooed my initials i think i'd die maybe"

"i'm fighting demons (and jp)"

until finally!!!

you go to an award show

you look great as always

ugh queen

and ur getting interviewed

the interviewer asks you a playful question like

"oh are you here with any date?"

AND YOU JUST SMILE

"of course, i'm here with my boyfriend, jay park."

oh man

when that gets posted

EVERYONE IS GOING CRAZY

JAY PARK

JP

AAAAAAAAA

and when the actual award shows gets posted

it keeps panning over to you and jay

and everyone is like

THAT'S HER BF????

all jay can say is that he's prideful duh

everyone wants u but he's the only one that can have you

you definitely take a lot of pictures on the red carpet at the award show

and jay is with u in a lot of them

he's holding ur waist so tightly

like you're not gonna run away cuh it's okay omg 😭😭😭

anyways i think it gets resolved pretty easily

ur fandom accepts jay

but they still joke abt him

and when jay makes a twt account it gets worse

he WILL respond to them

and he WILL flex u

every time he does it shuts down the argument right away.... if he wants to win he just needs to mention ur name

"jay meet me after the concert, we will fight to the death for [name]'s love"

and this mf responds "can i bring [name] to be the ref?"

"jay ur hair looks so fucked up in this picture"

and he responds "yet [name] still picked me and not you"

you have to tell him to stop fighting ur 16 yr old fans HELP

jake ☆

sorry ur a musician again

you have a new song that came out

yk how in some songs

there's almost like an interlude

where there's speaking parts

like in agora hills theres a small part where doja cat says "baby can you call me back, it's so lonely in my mansion" yk?

you have something like that in your newest song

cute!

except it's not just your voice

but a MAN'S voice too

JAKE'S VOICE

the speaking part is very flirty and suggestive

and when it comes out

ppl are like

WHO IS THAT MAN

and then when the music video comes out

theres a male actor that you have many scenes with

now.... the male actor's face is cut out...

but there are still many scenes with you touching him, holding him, kissing him, and vice versa

and when the speaking part comes on

that male actor is supposed to be the male part if that makes sense

that male actor is

drum roll plS

JAKE

when ppl read the credits of the song and music video

they can't help but notice "jake sim"

and when they search ur other songs and mv's

"jake sim" has never showed up...

until this song.....

interesting....

ur fans do a lil detective work

and this jake sim guy doesn't have any involvement in the music or acting industry....

so why is he in ur song AND music video....

hmmmm

they can't find any ig account linked to him

except one that's very obscure

it has a funny username like

"@laylasdad1115" so ppl are like "oh that's probably not even him" and you weren't even following that account so they just let it go

WRONG!!1

@LAYLASDAD1115 IS JAKE

and although you're not following that account on ig

when ppl scroll down to your very very old posts

they see something

very

very

very

miniscule

but

very

very

very

crucial

a post of you and a golden labrador.... and the caption says "i love you layla"

layla... laylasdad1115

and THEN BOOM

NEW SONG COMES OUT

AND AT THE BEGINNING

YOU SAY

"jakey, kiss me!"

OH MY GOD

WHO IS JAKE SIM!!!!!!

"@laylasdad1115 u better watch out...."

"who do you think u are jake sim..."

and then you have a concert

and its not a massive stadium, it's very casual

and there's a part of the concert where you just answer questions that ur fans have and just hang out w them

and someone asks as a joke

"who's jakey in ur song btw?"

and with the most straight face

ur just like

"oh he's my boyfriend!" and then you point to the front row and ur like "he's actually here tonight, say hi baby!"

and jake is so enthusiastic abt it, hes like "hi guys!"

while everyone else in the room is like

WHAT.

the way ygs are so casual abt it is so appalling

"[NAME] YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT U HAVE A BF I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING MARRIED"

"she's taken..... i'm gonna die.... "

LMAAOAOAO

it's known in ur fandom now that ur bf is jake sim or wtv

i don't think anyone even calls him jake

out of pure disrespect (😭) they call him by his instagram username

"laylasdad1115 might be dating [name] but i'm legally bound to her so who's really winning"

when jake shows up to your concerts i do think your fans joke w him like

"ouuu jake ur so lucky [name] is here or i'd give you a black eye"

FREE HIMMMM

sunghoon ☆

three words: your personal bodyguard

you're an actress cutie

and it's award show season

at all of your award shows ppl notice there's this tall brooding figure looming over you

ITS SUNGHOON LMAO

he's like

GLARING AT EVERYONE

HE KEEPS SQUARING UP RANDOM PPL 😭😭😭

ik this might be a crazy crossover but the moment he spots ryan gosling he's so ready to throw fists

"okay barbie boy you look like you want a broken nose"

sunghoon is very protective of you

obv bc the film industry is lowk kinda sus and exploitative, he def watches out for u a lot

everyone kinda just assumes that he's ur scary bodyguard

but then paparazzi pictures come out

and hes with you

in every

single

one

"goddamn her bodyguard is passionate about his job 😭😭😭"

in fact when the annoying invasive paparazzi interviewers come to talk to you sunghoon is sending the the NASTIEST GLARES

but like it's valid bc ur literally walking to Walgreens at 9AM on a tuesday why do you need to be photographed

"hi [name] can we ask you a few questions-"

hoon literally answers for u

"No. 😐."

interviewers are so rude, theyre like "well i didn't ask you, did i... [name] can we ask you-"

sunghoon just blinks and says

"No. 😐😐😐😐😐😐😐." again

and then ygs leave

theres clips of you at the airport where sunghoon is scaring all ur fans, which makes way for you to have a cmfortable flight

i think ur fans appreciate him but theyre lowk scared

"oh god this guy does not play abt his job 😭😭"

until one day

you get playfully asked abt ur bodyguard on an ig live

and ur like "wait what that's not my bodyguard, that's my bf"

UR WHAT????

HUH????

😱😱😱

ur fans are in the trenches

"i cant hate him bc he protects [name].... but damn i wish that was me 😞😞😞"

and when they review some of the clips w you and sunghoon they see you smiling and giggling with him

"he makes her happy so ig i'll let him have her </3"

"this is the hardest sacrifice i have to make"

i lowk think sunghoon doesn't care

he FIGHTS EVERYONE

only for u ofc 😊😊😊

maknae ver

[nahoney22]

Congrats on 4500 followers!!! You’ve come so far and I feel so blessed whenever you’re writing blesses my feed ❤️

May I please request the bad batch and any other clone(s) of your choice learning that the reader (gender neutral) has a bunch of tattoos and they didn’t know because reader is always covered? Perhaps they find out when reader gets injured, or they walk in on reader changing, maybe things get spicy…Could be nsfw, sfw, or anything in between, your choice!

Have an absolutely wonderful day and may your writing grow and flourish!

Tattoo’s***🌊

🫧 All The Bad Batch Boys, Fives & Rex X Gender Neutral!Reader

How the Bad Batch Boys including Rex and Fives react to you having tattoo’s.

warnings: Some are safe for work and others are quite spicy so there is a 18+ warning. Gender neutral reader, tattooed reader, kisses, touchy-feely, flirting, accidental voyeurism, some friends to lovers, friends with benefits, strip poker, nudity, neck biting and kissing, some flustered clones and reader.

a/n: sorry for the wait @ihavemanychickens, hope this is okay. And thanks @probadbatch for the strip poker idea 🔥 🩵🫧

Echo

"Take a seat here; I’ll grab the medkit," Echo ordered as soon as you stepped onto the ship, guiding you to lean against a nearby crate.

You had taken a minor hit—a blaster bolt grazing your calf. The pain was sharp, but you were certain it wasn't anything serious.

As you lowered yourself onto the crate with a wince, you rolled up your pant leg to inspect the wound—a deep graze, but nothing too alarming.

Echo approached, kneeling in front of you. "Let’s have a look."

You appreciated his quick response and care, but you noticed his gaze lingering on your leg. "Is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he replied quickly, shaking off his distraction as he retrieved some bacta spray. "I just didn't know you had tattoos."

You paused, realising this might be the first time any of the Batch had seen more of your skin beyond your hands and face. You weren't exactly in the habit of undressing in front of them. "I thought I mentioned it before."

"Not to me," Echo chuckled, carefully applying the spray. He winced sympathetically when you did, apologising as he dressed and bandaged the wound. "I think I would have remembered."

You shrugged casually. "I've had them for a while. Planning to add more, actually." You smiled as he stood, taking one last look at your leg before rolling the fabric back down.

"Oh yeah? Got any ideas?" he asked, genuinely curious despite lacking any ink himself.

You began to list off a few ideas, and as you did, you noticed how interested he seemed. "What about you?" you asked as you carefully hopped off the crate, putting minimal pressure on your leg. "Ever thought about getting one?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not really my thing, but they look really good on you."

"Thanks, Echo," you replied, touched by his compliment. He even appeared flustered by his own choice of words. "I’m pretty much covered. I could show you some more sometime?"

You meant it innocently, but the thought of Echo seeing more of your tattoos, and thus more of you, froze both of you in place. His wide eyes mirrored your own as you both stumbled over your words, trying to recover. Fortunately, a transmission started to come through, saving you from further awkwardness.

Who knows, maybe one day you would show him more.

Hunter

“Hey, have you seen my—?” Hunter’s words died in his throat as he stepped onto the Marauder, not expecting to find you in a state of partial undress.

Your back was to him, revealing tattoos that he hadn't known were there. He’d seen the small ones around your ankles before, but this was different. This was...a lot more.

You turned quickly, eyes wide as you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. Hunter cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his hand against the ship's wall. "Sorry, I, uh, I should’ve knocked."

"Don’t worry about it," you replied, trying to downplay the situation. "What were you looking for?"

Hunter blinked, trying to recall what he had come for. "I was looking for...you know what? It doesn’t matter." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "I didn’t realise you had so many tattoos."

"Oh," you started, feeling a slight flush of heat creep into your cheeks. "Yeah, my back has the most. My legs and arms are pretty much bare."

"And the ones on your ankles," he added, a small smile playing on his lips.

You nodded with a grin. "And the ones on my ankles."

An odd silence settled between you, both unsure of what to say next. You leaned against one of the consoles, watching him as he seemed to look everywhere but at you. "Do you have more than one tattoo?" you asked, pointing to your face where his was on his own.

"Just the one. But it’s, uh, bigger than you’d think."

"It is?" you asked, genuinely surprised.

"It goes all the way down to my hip," he revealed casually, his tone as smooth as ever.

Your eyes widened. How had you never known that? Then again, you both had your secrets. "Really? That’s...cool." Without thinking, you added, "I’d love to see it."

Hunter’s eyes met yours, a spark of interest in his gaze. "I could show you if you want."

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant as your heart rate picked up. You watched as he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned, and muscular build. Your eyes traced over the intricate design of his tattoo as it spread down his ribcage, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You couldn’t lie, the sight of him stripping his clothes off to show you what he had hidden did something to you… it was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

"Well?" Hunter asked, a teasing grin on his face as he caught you staring. Even worse, you were even biting your lip as you practically drooled over him. You sincerely hope he didn’t hear the way your heart thundered in your chest but you doubt it.

You swallowed, managing a small smile as you met his gaze. "It’s...impressive," you said, voice soft but genuine.

Hunter chuckled, pulling his shirt back on, though the heat between you lingered. "Thanks. Maybe next time, we can compare."

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way your pulse raced suggested this was a moment you wouldn’t soon forget.

Wrecker

"Headed to the gym? Mind if I join ya?" Wrecker asked, catching you mid-motion as you pulled on your workout shoes. Being back on Kamino meant access to some of the best training facilities, and you weren't about to pass that up.

You glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, no need. I'll meet you there. Gotta finish up something first," Wrecker replied, already eager to start lifting.

You smiled and headed off to the gym. You started with an intense cardio session, like usual, working up a sweat quickly. The heat made you shrug off your jacket, leaving you in your training tank top. As you moved on to weights, you focused on your form, muscles tensing and relaxing with each rep.

A little while later, Wrecker strolled into the gym, ready to go. He stalls as he noticed you lifting, your body glistening with sweat, muscles working in sync—and the tattoos.

His eyes widened at the sight; he’d never seen so many on you before. He knew you had some but not to this extent. Watching you move, the way your inked skin flexed with every rep, stirred something in him. And in his pants that seemed to get oppressively tighter.

You caught his gaze in the mirror, noticing the way he was staring. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow. "What’s got your attention?"

He blinked, flustered at being caught. "Uh, nothin'! Just, uh... your tattoos! Didn’t know ya had that many.”

You chuckled, setting the weights down. "Yeah, most people don’t notice unless I’m dressed down like this." You took a step closer, giving him a playful smile. "Like what you see?" You ask with your hands on your hips.

Wrecker swallowed, clearly caught off guard by your forwardness, but he wasn’t about to back down. "Y-Yeah! I mean, they look... really good. You look really good," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he met your eyes.

You grinned, pleased by his reaction. "Thanks. It’s nice to know they get some appreciation." You paused for a moment, your eyes locking with his. "Ever thought about getting one yourself?"

Wrecker laughed, his sudden nerves easing a bit. "Me? Nah, I dunno if I could sit still that long.” And then he takes a bolt of courage. “But maybe I could get used to seeing 'em on you."

The flirtation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a spark of excitement. "Well, maybe you should keep coming to the gym with me then. Could be good motivation for both of us."

His grin widened, the tension between you warm but playful. "I think I just might. Gotta keep an eye on those tattoos... and make sure you're not skippin' leg day," he teased, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and interest as his eyes roamed your body.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge as you picked up your weights again. "You do that, Wrecker."

As you continued your workout, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, the atmosphere charged with a new energy. It seemed like these gym sessions were about to get a lot more interesting.

Tech

You crouched beside Tech, helping him with a particularly intricate wiring task on the Marauder. The fabric of your gloves proved too cumbersome, so you slipped them off, deciding your bare hands would offer better precision.

As you worked, Tech glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something new—delicate, intricate tattoos on your fingers. He hadn’t noticed them before, and the sight of them seemed to capture his full attention.

“I was not aware you had tattoos,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. Without thinking, he gently took your hand in his, turning it slightly to get a better look. Tech wasn’t typically one for physical touch, so this unexpected action caught you slightly off guard.

You blinked, feeling a warmth rise to your cheeks as he inspects you like data. "Yeah, they’re easy to miss, I guess," you replied, feeling your heart race a little faster.

Tech’s thumb brushed over one of the designs, his touch both curious and reverent. “Tattoos can be meaningful,” he began, his voice taking on that familiar tone of fascination. “The process, the permanence, the cultural significance… all of it is so intriguing. Did you know—” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting yours as he took a deep breath. “What I really mean to say is I have always found you attractive, but this-these tattoos- they just add to it.”

His confession left you momentarily speechless. "You find me attractive?" you asked, needing to hear it again to believe it.

Tech nodded, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. “Yes. I have for some time now. I find myself even more drawn to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, his words sinking in and making your pulse quicken. "I have more, you know," you said softly, a playful edge to your voice. "If you’re interested in seeing them… maybe somewhere more comfortable?"

A flicker of excitement passed through Tech’s eyes, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "I would like that."

You stood, leading him to a quieter corner of the ship. As you removed your jacket, revealing more of the intricate tattoos on your arms, Tech’s gaze followed every movement, his expression full of admiration.

“May I?” he asked softly, his hands hovering just above your skin.

You nodded, feeling a thrill as his fingers traced the designs on your arms. His touch was light, sending shivers through you. "There are more on my legs," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I’d have to take off my pants to show you."

Tech swallowed, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I would love to see them," he replied, his voice huskier than before.

With a small smile, you slowly undid your pants, sliding them down to reveal the tattoos on your legs. Tech’s eyes widened slightly, his admiration for your body art clear in his expression.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his hands resting on your thighs, fingers tracing the designs with care. The warmth of his touch and the weight of his words made your heart pound.

“I’m really not,” you gush, turning around so Tech could also see the back of your legs and maybe something else.

“You are being modest for someone dressed so immodestly.” Tech’s eyes darkened slightly, eyes landing on your arse. Without another word, he spins you to face him and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

As your hand wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy, as you both gave in to the moment. Tech’s hands roamed over your body, feeling the curves and lines of your tattoos, and you felt a rush of warmth as his touch ignited a fire within you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Tech looked at you with a mix of awe and affection. "I have wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his voice sincere.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, I’m glad you finally did."

Crosshair

It had become something of a routine between you and Crosshair—whenever you were alone, it was only a matter of time before things heated up. Today was no different. “It’s been too long since I last had you,”

You stood in front of him, your back against his toned chest as his hands firmly grip your hips as his lips traced along your neck, alternating between soft kisses and rougher bites.

As he moved closer to your ear, his sharp eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before—a small, delicate tattoo hidden just behind your ear. His lips paused in their assault, and you felt him stiffen slightly behind you. “You’ve been keeping secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed over the tiny tattoo, making your skin tingle.

You smirked, leaning back into him. “Maybe you’re just not as observant as you think,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge. “You seem to spend more time paying attention to what’s between my legs than to the ink on my skin.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed his body against yours. “You think so?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe I’ll have to change that.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as his hands started to roam over your body, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your skin. “You should get a tattoo just for me,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark intent. “Maybe a little crosshair… right here,” he suggested, his fingers tracing a spot on your arm. “Or here,” he added, his hand moving to your chest, brushing just above your heart.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as he slowly undressed you, his hands and words sending sparks of anticipation through your body. “Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to cup your arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your heart raced, every touch and every word of his making you more and more aware of how hard he was against you. He leaned in closer once you turned to face him, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Or how about… right under your tongue,” he growled, his voice thick with a slight possessiveness, before slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss was intense, his tongue dominating yours as his hands continued to undress you, peeling away the last of your clothes. You barely registered when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bunk.

You could feel his ache, hard and insistent, pressing against your stomach, making you tremble with your own need. He laid you down on the bunk, his body hovering over yours. “I think you’d look good with my mark on you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “That way my brothers know to keep away from what is mine.”

“I’m yours, am I?” You grin, your hand sliding down between your bodies and between his legs.

“Yes. Mine.”

And as his mouth found yours again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a tiny crosshair tattoo wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Rex

The 501st had finally earned a brief respite after a grueling mission, and the team scattered to enjoy some well-deserved downtime. Rex, however, found himself preoccupied. It was time to regroup, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Jesse,” Rex called out, spotting the trooper near a makeshift campsite and asked about your whereabouts.

Jesse glanced up from where he was lounging. “Last I saw, they were headed down to the lake. Said something about needing a dip to cool off.”

Rex nodded his thanks and he made his way toward the lake. You always had a knack for slipping away, but something about the thought of you swimming alone somewhat nagged at him. He figured he’d better go fetch you himself.

The path to the lake was serene, the sounds of nature a welcome change from the usual chaos of battle. But as Rex approached the water's edge, his breath caught in his throat.

You were emerging from the lake, the sun glistening off the droplets of water clinging to your skin. For a moment, Rex simply stared, his mind going blank as he took in the sight before him. Your wet skin gleamed in the golden light, but it wasn’t just the natural beauty of the scene that struck him—it was the tattoos.

He’d never seen them before, intricate designs that seemed to flow with the contours of your body. They were subtle, yet striking, adding an unexpected allure to the person he thought he knew so well.

You noticed him standing there and began to approach, water dripping from your body with each step. As you got closer, Rex suddenly felt very out of place. Trying to shake off his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Your, uh, towel," he said, gesturing vaguely behind you, trying to mask the way his eyes kept wandering back to the tattoos.

You chuckled softly, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Right,” you said, turning to grab your towel and wrapping it around yourself before facing him again. “Something on your mind, Captain?”

Rex met your gaze, feeling heat rise to his cheeks—a rare occurrence for someone as composed as him. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he admitted, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. “They suit you.” He finishes after clearing his throat.

You smiled, noticing the way his eyes still seemed drawn to the ink on your skin. “Thanks. They’ve been there a while, just not something I show off all the time.” You took a step closer, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a once-over. “What about you? Anything hiding under that armour?”

He felt his pulse quicken at your boldness, your gaze holding his with a teasing glint. Normally, he was the one in control, the one giving orders. But right now, under your mesmerising eyes, he felt a little out of his depth—and oddly, he didn’t mind.

Summoning a bit of courage, Rex allowed himself to relax, just a touch. “No tattoos,” he admitted, though the thought of getting one never sounded more appealing than it did in that moment. He paused, then added, “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. Over a drink?”

Your smile widened, pleased by his offer. “I’d like that, Captain,” you replied, the title sounding more like a term of endearment than a rank.

Rex gave you a nod, trying to keep his expression steady, though his mind was already racing with the possibilities what that drink might lead to. “Good,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Fives

You and Fives had been spending more time together than usual, which led to playful jokes and fun and eventually, a daring suggestion by Fives: strip poker. Since both of you were always ready for a challenge, it wasn’t long before you found yourselves seated across from each other, cards in hand.

The first few rounds were harmless enough—boots, belts, gloves—but as the game progressed, more significant pieces of clothing began to shed. Fives, ever the showman, made a big deal out of every win, laughing and teasing you as you reluctantly removed another item. But what caught his attention most was when your tattoos started to reveal themselves.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Fives said, his eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he saw the first hints of ink on your skin. “I didn’t know you had tattoos!”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you revealed a bit more with each lost round. “I guess it never came up,” you teased back, your heart racing not just from the game but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on every new detail of your body. And admittedly, you admired his tone and muscular torso also.

Fives grin widens as more of your tattoos came into view. “They’re pretty awesome,” he complimented, clearly enjoying the discovery. “I’m starting to think losing isn’t so bad after all.”

But then, his eyes locked onto a specific tattoo, and his playful expression shifted to one of surprise. It was a simple design, but one that he recognised all too well—a number 5.

“Wait, hold on—” He leaned in closer, pointing at the tattoo with a mix of shock and amusement. “Is that a 5? Did you get a tattoo for me?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by his excitement. “What? No!” you quickly explained, realising how it looked. “It’s not for you, Fives. It’s just a coincidence.”

Fives however wasn’t having it as his smile shifted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Sure, it is. Admit it, you’re secretly obsessed with me,” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure, but Fives wasn’t letting this one go. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging tone. “Come on, admit it. It’s for me. I knew I was your favourite.”

The heat of the moment—combined with the growing awareness of how little clothing both of you were wearing—made your heart race. “Fives,” you warned, but your tone lacked any real bite. The truth was, his playful determination was getting to you, making it hard to keep up the act.

Seeing you start to falter, Fives pressed on, moving closer until your faces were only inches apart. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it’s for me.”

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, your voice betraying how much you were enjoying this. But before you could think of a comeback, Fives closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss.

The intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, eyes wide, but you quickly melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and into his lap. The realisation of how nude you both had become only fueled the fire between you.

Fives pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “So, you’re not denying it then?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe it’s time you focus on winning the game instead of running your mouth,” you challenged, though your voice was laced with affection as your lips ghost against his.

He grinned, before he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. “I’m already winning,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the tattoos that had started this whole thing.

🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb b @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @lulalovez

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings

[illusivelle]

chicken scratch

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,028 words content: mild cursing summary: you've never met your neighbour, but you've received plenty of their mail and now, a large package. of all the stories you made up in your head about who this 'carmen berzatto' could be, the real thing might just be your new favourite. a/n: brain rot means a middle of the night word dump. will likely be the first of many little stories about your next door neighbour, carmen, because that dynamic lives in my mind rent free. fluff for now, but we all know what that means (it means it'll definitely become nsfw later, sooner probably). read part two link to ao3 here!

The first letter was a mistake, the second one was a coincidence. The third one was not a big deal and the fourth was only a little more than a nuisance. But when a much larger package thudded against your front door at the ass crack of dawn, the recipient clearly written across the top of the cardboard box as your neighbour… well, that was just flat out annoying at this point. You hadn't even known deliveries made their rounds so early in the day and as big as the box was, when you lifted it to carry next door, it weighed lighter than a feather.

The pile of letters that accidentally found their way to your apartment were usually slipped through the small mailbox of your neighbour's, sometimes under the door. You'd thought about dropping the package and simply going about your day, but curiosity got the better of you as your knuckles rapped against the door and waited instead.

What could a Carmen Berzatto have possibly required to be delivered at this time?

In the time you've lived in the building, there'd been very few run-ins with other tenants. Not that you'd ever complain, perfectly content with your own company. You made friends with one elderly lady who always offered you some of her freshly baked bread, and in return you picked her up flowers and some extra produce on your farmer's market runs. The landlord wasn't your friend, but he wasn't your enemy either, and somehow you'd convinced him to let you paint your bathroom your favourite colour with little to no resistance. But your next door neighbour remained a mystery, one you've conjured up about a dozen different backstories and personalities for.

Carmen Berzatto, notorious criminal, hiding out in a tiny Chicago apartment. Carmen Berzatto, hundred-year-old vampire, who might either burn in the sun or look like they'd walked through a glitter bomb. Carmen Berzatto, part time Chicagoan, who actually doesn't live here anymore and maybe there's a squatter inside instead. Carmen Berzatto, the tax evader, because why else would they have so much goddamn mail being sent to them?

You'd been lost in the web of made-up histories for your neighbour when the door swung open to reveal said neighbour, and it slowly dawned on you that there wasn't a single story where you imagined Carmen Berzatto to look like that.

Piercing, wide blue eyes and a head of shaggy brown tufts that made you want to tangle your fingers through them, especially that small curl dangling just above his forehead.

"Hi." His greeting was laced with mild confusion that seemed immediately alleviated when his attention dropped to the box in your hands. "Oh."

"Hi," you blurted out, lifting the package, "got another one for you."

"I—I'm sorry about— about, uh, about all of that. It won't happen again."

"Won't it?" You were mostly teasing now. Although you were jolted awake by the sound of it thrashing against your door, and although you were rather peeved about getting up before you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to be irritated anymore.

Carmen reached out to take the box from you, giving it a small shake with what you thought was a ghost of a smile before he set it down to the side somewhere you couldn't see. "It won't. I'm sorry." The flirt of his tongue along his lips brought your gaze toward it before you met his eyes again.

Those stunning icy blues.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry for."

"I must've really fucked up on the— the uh, apartment number."

"What?"

"The apartment number."

"Yeah," you looked at him a bit dumbfounded, gaze darting to the door where the number and letter were, "what about it?"

"I—"

"You don't know your apartment number?"

"My writing's shit."

Both of you seemed to blink in unison, another lick of Carmen's lips which you mirrored before a stupid smile curled your lips. "Oh."

"Not a good excuse, I know." He nodded, jaw working as he turned his head to the metal on the door, a short and deep chuckle sounding from him. "Again, I—"

"Not sorry," you shook your head, "just chicken scratch."

For a moment, Carmen stared at you, and if it wasn't bad enough to have those too-blue eyes simply looking at you, to find them nearly boring holes as they danced between your eyes and across your face made you want to evaporate. Made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you hole. Made you want to drown in the depths of the ocean blues that were his irises.

"Just chicken scratch," he murmured after a beat of silence and what was once a ghost of a smile was definitely something now, the corner of his mouth lifting enough to wrinkle the corner of his eye. Enough to show you the dimple in his cheek. "Thanks for— for bringing the package."

"Yeah." And the smile unfurling on your lips was nothing short of genuine. "You're welcome, Carmen."

"Just, uh, just Carm is good. Carmy."

"Okay."

Another beat passed where you thought you might have been rendered frozen by one of your favourite shades of blue, glued to the floor through hypnosis, until a sound down the hall caught your ear and you nodded at Carmen. Turning on your heel, you took the first step back to your apartment, then another, and another.

And it wasn't until you had your hand stretched out to grab for your doorknob when you heard his voice echo from where you'd came. "See you around?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

The moment hung in the air on a thin thread, the both of you sharing furtive and hidden smiles before his door closed and yours opened.

Carmen Berzatto, not a notorious criminal (to your knowledge) or a hundred-year-old vampire (yet). Nor was he a part-time Chicagoan (not with that accent) or a tax evader (maybe). None of the ideas you had floating in your mind about your neighbour even came close to the real thing.

Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I was watching One Piece & came up with this. Please enjoy! -Jazz

Warnings: Reader is mentioned as having thick thighs and ass w/ brown labia

**********

LUFFY 

This man is downright confused. 

He doesn't even realize that you did this on purpose to get him riled up. Luffy was never the one to successfully be seduced though. You could stand naked in front of him and tell him to fuck you, and he’d still wouldn’t get it. When the man gets horny, it’s at the most random of times, like when you’re sunbathing with Name or reading a book. 

You figured you’d at least give it a shot though. It starts when you two are lounging in your bed in the girls’ cabins across the ship, chomping on some watermelon and honeydew as an afternoon snack. With your feet in his lap, you go to pluck the last piece of watermelon out of the bowl between you, but his whine of protest stops you. “What, Luffy?” you sigh. 

Luffy stares at you with big, pitiful eyes, begging you not to eat it. You do your best to keep your eyes on his instead of his toned upper torso and X-shaped scar that peaks beneath the flaps of his red vest. “Pleeeease, Y/N?” he whines. “It’s so good! I didn’t even eat that much!” 

You scoff, wondering if he’s serious. “Luffy, boy, you almost ate the entire bowl!” you argue. “I had to slap you on the head to stop you from eating everything!” You go to pop the watermelon into your mouth, but Luffy’s arm extending and slithering across the bed toward you stops you. 

“No, Luffy!” you protest, but you’re cut off with laughter as he begins tickling your side. The captain laughs at your torture, tickling you senselessly until you drop the watermelon on the ground.

By now, he isn’t paying attention to it though. He jumps on top of you, his fingers moving furiously across your sides and stomach much to your dismay. “L-Luffy, stop!” you gasp. “I-I can’t…b-breathe!” 

“Huh?” he teasingly asks. “Sorry, Y/N, but I can’t hear you over the sound of your laughter!” His hands then move down to tickle your legs, but he doesn’t count on accidentally flipping your sundress up to reveal your bare pussy to him. 

His fingers pause as he stares in confusion down below your stomach. You begin to grow hot with embarrassment, realizing what has happened, but also hopeful that this lighthearted moment shifts. For a minute, Luffy is completely silent and you can see the gears turning in that head. “Uh…Y/N?” he innocently questions. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear?” 

The room suddenly grows hot and heavy as you lay there on your back with your boyfriend staring down at your pussy. “Um,” you hum, “w-well–“ 

“Did you lose ‘em in the laundry room?” he interjects. “Did they end up in the sea? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve gotten 'em for you!” 

“No, Luffy–“ 

“Or did you take ‘em off ‘cause it’s so hot today? Doesn’t that feel kinda weird? Or does it make you feel cool? Maybe I should try that too ‘cause sometimes I get–“ 

“Luffy!” you exclaim, stopping him short. “I didn’t take them off ‘cause of any of that.” He stares blankly at you, waiting for you to continue to explain the method to your madness. You clear your throat, feeling more embarrassed because of his cluelessness. “I did it to seduce you,” you softly reply.

Again, he just blinks at you. “You know,” you sigh, knowing damn well he doesn’t. “You have easy access to me now for…you know…play with me.” 

Then, finally, a lightbulb flickers in Luffy’s eyes. “Oh!” he giggles, realizing what you mean. “You mean for sex? I can fuck you without worrying about your panties now?” He practically yells this shit, by the way, which means anyone on the ship definitely heard. 

You facepalm yourself, groaning. “This was a bad idea,” you lament. Luffy is suddenly moving to hike your thighs over his shoulders, his entire demeanor changed. You squeak in surprise as he looks up at you from between your legs, a mischievous yet sexy look in his eyes. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” he hums. “All you had to do was tell your captain so.” 

When he finally eats your pussy and fucks you into the mattress for nearly an hour until you have four orgasms, leaving your body twitching and your pussy filled to the brim with his cum, you realize that maybe you should go without undies more often. 

ZORO 

To say he isn’t pleased isn’t enough to describe what Zoro is feeling. 

He knew something was off when he saw your asscheeks jumping a little too much when you walked around the ship today. He noticed immediately when you went into the kitchen to help Sanji with breakfast to which he eyed the blonde down for staring at you in your pretty little sundress. 

But then you bent over the counter a little too far, luckily without Sanji watching, to reach for a glass for your iced coffee. There, he saw it: a sliver of those bare cheeks that he dreams about smacking and lays on as pillows just because they’re so plump and pillowy soft. As the hem of your dress rose over your thighs, his eyes widened at your ass and the crevice of your thighs where your bare pussy lied in wait for him. 

When you finally got your glass, you peeked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his. And then you laughed. You laughed. It was small, light, and sexy, but just as wicked. Zoro gripped his fork so tight that he nearly snapped it. ‘Oh, this little brat,’ he thought. You were gonna get it later. 

So when he finds you reading a book and lounging in the sun moments later while the crew is doing their own thing, he wastes no time discussing these important matters with you. He stands in front of your view of the sun, becoming a big, hunky eclipse. You stare up at him from behind your sunglasses. “Yes?” you ask innocently as if you’re not wearing panties under your dress right now. 

“You wanna tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice barely above a growl. You stare up at him, confused. “Uh...reading and sunbathing?” you suggest as an answer. You offer your book to him, showing him. 

You don’t expect him to pluck the book from your hand and toss it to the side. “Not that,” he impatiently replies. “I mean the fact that you’re goin’ commando today.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zo,” you lightly laugh. But he sees the playfulness in your smile. You’re trying to tease him to get what you want. 

Lucky for you, he’s on your type of time today and is more than happy to give it to you. 

That’s when you find yourself in his room, bent over his bed and his thick cock stuffed deep in your wet pussy that he is quickly turning into a gushy mess with how fast and hard he is fucking you. With every slap of his balls against your clit, his hands grip your hips and your voice rings out in moans against his bedroom walls. “Z-Zoro!” you whine, your face in his pillow. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum too quick!” 

He feels you squirming about, but holds you firmly by your hips, even giving you a sharp spank on your jiggly ass. “Nah, baby,” he hoarsely says. “Stop runnin’ from me. You begged for this shit, and now you’re gonna take it, you little brat.” 

He leans over to press a chaste kiss to your ear, making you pitifully whine into his pillow as your ass bounces off of his cock. “I’m curious though,” he whispers. What made you suddenly decide to flash your pussy for all of our crew members today, huh?” His hand moves to roughly grip your ass, toying with the soft flesh. “I know you know I noticed,” he growls. “What, you want Sanji and Brooke to get an eyeful of what’s mine, huh?” 

With no answer, he spanks you again, drawing a whine out of you. “Huh?” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of his bedroom walls. 

“No!” you sob, gripping the sheets beneath you. “No, Zorro, I promise I’m yours! I-I just wanted to tease you! I’m sorry!” The rest of your words turn into whines and sobs of pleasure as he continues to fuck you sore, plunging his cock deep into your pussy until you’re screaming for release. 

Guess you got what you wanted, right? 

SANJI 

Sanji is BIG HORNY. Don't even try to play with him like that. 

It is just a simple morning that turns into something else entirely when you wake at the crack of dawn to find your bed empty. The spot where your boyfriend once was laying is still warm, meaning he hasn’t been away all that long. 

You get up and put on an halter aquamarine-blue dress that is shows off the curve of your back and stops at the tops of your thighs, giving just a little peek of the bottom of your ass. It’s one of Sanji’s favorites. Anytime you wear it, he either has a major nosebleed or gives you a blush-worthy compliment and then has a major nosebleed. It also gives him the perfect access to your panties…only this time, you leave them in your drawer. 

With a smirk playing on your lips, you walk out of the girls’ cabin to the ship’s kitchen where you find your man and the crew’s chef cooking up some breakfast. He hums a tune as a cigarette dangles from his lips as his hands multitask between cracking an egg with one hand and flipping over some bacon in a pan with the other. Sanji has always been great with his hands. You should know––he’s used them on you many, many times. 

You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his toned body. “Good morning,” you softly say, ruining his concentration in the best possible way. He looks over his shoulder, smiling down at you. “Good morning, my love,” he coos, taking his cig out to press a kiss to your forehead. “Did I wake you, baby?” 

You lean against the counter, admiring his biceps, veiny hands, and his toned body beneath his apron and wrinkled shirt that he hastily tossed on earlier. You want him. Now. “You know I can’t sleep without you near me,” you reply, your voice airy and soft. 

Sanji doesn’t quite catch on to your tone, but presses a hand to his heart, touched at your sweetness. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing ever?” he tuts. “Well, I’ll make sure to make up for leaving your bed with an amazing breakfast from yours truly! Here, pass me the blueberries so I can make this pancake batter.” 

You turn around, looking at the carton of blueberries. “These here?” you ask. 

“Yeah, right–“ Sanji’s sentence takes an abrupt pause when you suddenly lean over the counter next to him to get the blueberries. As you do, your dress rides up, giving him an eyeful of your luscious, bare ass. You smirk at his silence, realizing that your plan to seduce him worked…as usual. It doesn’t take much to make Sanji incredibly horny. You could simply smile at him and he’s ready to eat your pussy for days. 

You turn around to face him, your dress dropping back down against your hips. “Here you go, honey,” you coo, passing him the carton. He takes it from you, eyes wide and mouth parted, his cigarette falling to the floor at his feet. You giggle, teasingly toying with the hem of your dress. “What’s the matter, honey?” you tease. “You like this?” 

Sanji’s eyes follow your hands and the hem of your dress that continues to lift up, showing him a little of your skin each time. “Uh-huh,” he dumbly answers. 

“You know, we’ve got some time until the others wake up,” you purr. “And you’ve got easier access now.” You lift your dress up the rest of the way, revealing your naked pussy to him. “Wanna take advantage?” you ask, a sexy glint in your eye. 

You swear that Sanji has never had a more violent nosebleed. That shit gushes everywhere, but luckily not on the food or on you. It drips all over his clothes, his pretty apron, and the floor below, making you squeak in shock as you jump onto a chair to avoid getting wet. When poor Luffy and Usopp enter the kitchen seconds later, they slip and slide all over the blood, knocking into each other and falling out on the floor. 

It’s hilariously embarrassing on Sanji’s part, especially when you help him mop up the floor. But you think it’s flattering that your boyfriend finds you so attractive. 

He shows you just how much hours later when the crew is eating breakfast in the other room while he has you bent over the counter and his cock stroking the walls of your pussy, nice and slow. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he groans, your soft moans filling the kitchen. “I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?” 

The only answer you can give him is clenching around his thick, curved cock and creaming all over it minutes later. 

USOPP 

Usopp is truly a special case.

You think you just about killed him when he realizes you’re completely naked under your skirt. 

You’re just fooling around in his tinkering room under the ship’s floors, dancing to his playlist that he has set specifically for his tinkering and inventing process. You twirl around in your flowery mini skirt and white crop top while your man crouches over a table, focusing on working a gear into some new contraption he’s working on. 

You hear him sigh from his post, exhaustedly so. “Y/N?” he asks. You twirl towards him, your eyes trailing along his back muscles flexing under his white white beater and brown skin tanned even more from the sun. “Hm?" you hum, still swaying to the music. 

“If you’re not gonna help me, what are you doing down here?” he asks, but not unkindly. Kind of in that way where you’re fed up with your lover’s antics, but you secretly love them. “Just to dance to my music?” 

“It’s not my fault you’ve got excellent music taste,” you giggle, moving towards him. You wrap his arms around him from the back, pressing a kiss to his broad shoulder. “C’mon, dance with me.” He groans in protest, his hands covering yours. “You know I don’t dance, sweetheart, especially when I’m in my zone.” 

You cluck your tongue indifferently. “You’ve been in your zone for hours now!” you argue. “Just to one song.” You begin to sway, forcing him to sway with you. You lay your hands flat against the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart beating against your fingertips.

“Pwease?” you plea, making your voice soft and high-pitched. Usopp once again groans, but sways with you anyway, moving away from the table to turn his entire attention on you. You release him, allowing him to turn around and face you, a smile playing on his pink lips that you just love to kiss. 

You take his hands into yours and begin moving your feet anywhere the beat takes you, leading him towards you and back again. He begins to laugh along with you, moving his feet in his boots and his legs in those baggy, yellow overalls that you’re itching to get off. There’s just something about him being down here, so completely in his element with his skin glinting in sweat and motor oil streaks on his face. 

He surprises you by suddenly taking your hand and twirling you around, making your skirt billow around you. You giggle as you spin and come to a halt with your back to his front. You lean your head back into his chest, humming appreciatively at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands gliding down your sides to your hips and accidentally slipping under your skirt. “Oh, sorry!” he gasps. "Your skirt was still up and…” His sentence takes a pause, making you smile. 

“Everything okay, Usie?” you ask, using the pet name you gave him on him. You turn around to face him, finding him gaping down at your skirt. “Uh,” he breathes. “W-Wha…why…why aren’t you…underwear?” 

You nearly laugh at his stutters and gobsmacked expression. “You like it?” you giggle, toying with your skirt. “I figured it’d get you away from your tinkering for a minute.” 

You lift your skirt up, revealing your bare pussy and tan lines from the sun to him. His brown eyes nearly bug out of his skull at the erotic sight. The man is totally frozen, barely moving a muscle…except for the one down under which has begun to make its appearance, protruding from beneath his pants. 

“So you wanna take a break with me, Usie?” you purr, smirking up at him. You press a hand to his chest to feel him up, but as you do, Usopp teeters backwards and falls flat onto his back. “Usopp?!” you shriek, alarmed. You crouch down beside him immediately, checking for any damage. “Are you alright?” 

Usopp stares up at you, his eyes wide like he just saw the entire Grand Blue beneath your skirt. “Y-Yes,” he croaks out. “To the break, not if I’m alright.” You sigh in relief, shaking your head at your idiot boyfriend. 

But he makes up for it by fucking you silly against his tinkering table minutes later and making you cum all over his thick cock. 

SHANKS 

“You wanna get fucked?” 

That’s the question Shanks asks you when his hand slides a little too far down your backside and finds that your skin is completely smooth. Too smooth. Usually, he’d feel the rough edges of your lace panties or a thong if you’re feeling frisky. But tonight, there is nothing. 

He should’ve known something was up. When he was walking behind you tonight to go to the bar with the crew. Your ass was jumping way too much! Not that he minded because his crew and every other male in here knew better than to look at you in such a way, but he couldn’t pop a hard-on in front of his crew mates. It was quite embarrassing. 

And now you have the gall to act like you have no idea what he’s talking about. “What, boy?” you snort, shoving at his chest. “C’mon, we’re not even back at the ship or at a hotel.” 

You go to scoot over, but the booth you're sitting in only allows you to go so far. Shanks is sitting with you thigh to thigh, hip to hip, with one arm slung around the back of the booth. Something about being protective of you. Though you like it, him being so close is starting to make you hot combined with the alcohol traveling through your body. 

Like clockwork, Shanks follows you, scooting even closer to you and not allowing you any kind of personal space. You can see that he is tipsy, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and a hooded look in his eyes. “Shit, baby,��� he chuckles, “all you had to do was say that. We can leave right now and go to a bed ’n breakfast right down the way.” His hand moves from your back to your knee, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go commando tonight, though I appreciate the gesture.” 

His hand begins to scoot up to your thigh, squeezing the thick, juicy flesh there. You can feel your body temperature rising as his hand gets dangerously close to your pussy as he sneaks it underneath your skirt. “So what made you wanna lose the panties tonight, baby doll?” he whispers, his lips at your ear. He smells of whiskey and mint gum––a combo you have come to love. 

The sound of a bottle shattering and a roar of laughter makes you realize that you’re still in public. “S-Shanks,” you stutter, gulping. You go to move his hand, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Can’t decide you don’t want it now. You’re the one who came off the ship without your undies.” Your breath hitches as he releases your hand and goes back to scoot his up your skirt until his fingers begin sneaking between your thick thighs. “Tell me, baby doll: what was your plan tonight? To make me so hard that I bend you over this table and fuck you in front of all of the nice folks at this bar?” 

His naughty question and raspy voice in your ear makes you pathetically whimper. You then feel his fingers begin to play with your pussy lips, making you bite your lip. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to tug lightly on your hair, drawing a moan out of you. “I need an answer,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you cum right here. Don’t try me.” 

Through quivering lips and hitched breaths, you answer him. “N-No,” you whimper. “I just felt sexy tonight and I wanted to tease you.” You have to clench your teeth to avoid moaning as he begins to play with your clit, coaxing your legs open a bit to watch his fingers toy with the brown hood. 

“Well, little lady,” he chuckles, “consider me teased.” He leans in and presses a rough, whiskey-soaked kiss to your quivering lips before pulling away. “So now let me give you what you’re after.” 

That’s how you find yourself up against the wall of a bathroom stall in the bar with Shanks’ hips furiously thrusting as he pounds his cock deep into your needy, wet pussy, giving you no choice but to clench around him. Your legs are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other is running through his red hair, your moans ringing out above the bar’s ruckus. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs into your ear. “You wanted to be my little slut tonight?” He fucks you harder, faster, getting you both closer and closer to your explosive orgasm of the night. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Be a good girl and cum around your captain’s cock, baby doll.” 

And you do. You don’t have a choice but to do so. And when he finally cums deep inside of you, he makes sure you give you enough so it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk out of the bathroom minutes later, Shanks laughing while you’re an embarrassed, fucked-out mess. 

ACE

“Girl, don’t play with me,” he firmly says. “I mean it.” 

You blink at him, confused for a moment. all you're doing is sitting cross-legged next to him, sipping on your cocktail, looking cute and absolutely scrumptious in your yellow mini-dress that brings out the color of your skin and the deep brown of your eyes. Ace has been telling you that you look like the prettiest sun he's ever seen ever since you stepped out to join him at the club. 

“What?” you ask. “All I’m doing is sitting here.” Ace eyes you from beneath his hat, his eyes trailing down to your thighs. “Yeah, without somethin’ underneath,” he replies. Your heartbeat jumps when you realize he’s caught on. “What?” he chuckles. “You think I wouldn’t notice when I can see that ass?” 

And he can. From his angle, he has a clear view of your bottom cheeks as you sit with your legs crossed. “Maybe I was just hot,” you argue, holding back a playful smile. “There has been a heatwave for a couple of days. Plus, it makes me cooler.” 

“Cooler, hm?” Ace scoots closer to you, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Don’t get too cool now, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down your spine. “I need you hot and bothered for this next part.” 

That’s when his hand begins to slide between your thighs, coaxing them open to reveal a sliver of your shaved, bare pussy to him. “Fuck,” he hisses, ogling at your sex. His reaction makes you flush, the idea of doing something so naughty in such a public place enticing you so. “So now what?” you purr. “You just gonna stare at it? As flattered as I am, I– oh, fuck!” 

A gasp escapes you as you feel your boyfriend’s fingers begin to toy with your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Right there in the club booth! “Hm, you’re already wet for me, mama,” he appreciatively hums, watching your face intently for your reactions. “Were you this wet when you were changing earlier, thinkin’ about me doin’ this?” 

“Ace,” you whisper, your eyes leaving his to assess the club. Luckily, everyone is too busy dancing and drinking to notice your boyfriend playing with your pussy, but the idea that someone could see turns you on even more. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, an evil glint in his eye. “You can let that voice out more. The music is loud enough.” 

He begins to press his finger very lightly against your entrance and you’d just about cry out in pleasure if it wasn’t for his little brother dancing up to them to the reggaeton beat playing from the speakers above. “What are you guys sittin’ down for?!” Luffy yells, drunk with his hat tipped sideways and those hips moving. “C’mon and dance with me! The music is great!”

You try to move away from Ace, but his finger sinking into your pussy stops you. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he begins to slowly and torturously finger fuck your cunt, gliding against the underside of your clit as he does so. “Oh, we’ll be there,” Ace reassures his brother with a smile. “Right, Y/N? You love this type of music.” 

You can barely breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, Luffy is dancing away to join his crew on the floor, leaving you and Ace alone. You turn to him, glaring daggers at him. “I fucking hate you,” you growl. 

Ace chuckles as he starts to thumb your clit, emitting soft moans from your lips. “I love you too, mama,” he coos, kissing your neck. “I’ll treat you to a dance after I make you cum, m’kay?” 

And he does both: he makes you cum on his fingers right under the table and buys you a pretty drink to go with a pretty girl like you. 

LAW 

He is befuddled. Confused. And completely alarmed. 

Because why the fuck are you just walking around his ship with no panties on? He realizes this when you first come sauntering into his bed chambers one night and sit in his lap. He’s at his desk, looking over a map and circling some hotspots to stop at for food and supplies. “Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he grumbles, doing his best to not admire you in your pink mini dress with the flowers printed on it and how the hem stops at your thighs. “We pull into port come dawn.” 

You hum in acknowledgement. “I know, but you’ve been sitting here almost all day. And plus, I need you in order to sleep.” You lean in to kiss along his thick neck and shoulders, cooing softly as you do. The scent of your perfume and your soft voice in his ear are enough to make him bust, but alas, he has work to do. “Well, try,” he deadpans, giving your thigh a pinch. “Now c’mon, I have work to do. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

You whine in protest, wiggling around in his lap and causing his cock to stir. “But you said that an hour ago!” you argue with a pout of your soft, glossy lips. “Come on, Law, snuggle with me!” But when he gives you one of those stern looks, you sigh and scoot off of his lap to sit on his bed, pouty and mad. 

He’s supposed to go back to his work. Keyword: supposed to. But all of that goes out the window as he watches you lean back and open your legs in the mirror behind his desk that faces you. Your eyes stay posted to his as you do so, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your naked thighs and ass. “Da hell?” he asks, confused. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently, even as your thighs slowly move apart. Law swears he nearly has a heart attack when he realizes that there is nothing covering your pussy, revealing all of you to him. “Where the fuck are your panties?” he asks, glaring at the sight. 

“It was hot today,” you answer simply. “So I went without.” You lean back farther onto your hands, causing your dress to ride up onto your naked stomach. Law can't take his eyes off of your pussy though. It looks so pretty; so brown; so delectable.

“Were you just…walkin’ around like that all day?” he asks barely above a growl. “Without any panties?” He doesn't realize that he’s gripping the map until he hears a slight tear in the paper that makes him stop. 

You shoot him a scowl. “Why do you care?” you retort. “You weren’t payin’ any attention to me, so don’t act like you do now.” But obviously, you’re lying. You want him and you knew exactly how to get him. That’s why you made sure to skip out on wearing undies today. 

Nothing more comes out of Law except for groans and grunts of pleasure when he is on top of you minutes later, his clothes off and his hands gripping the hem of your dress as he fucks you in it. He has your legs up by your ears and his cock sunk deep into your pussy that makes such nice, squelching noises for him every time he thrusts into it.

“Now,” he huffs, staring down at your pretty face and jiggling titties, “any mouth you got for me now? Huh, little girl?” 

You don’t give him anything but a sob, your pretty face contorted in sheer pleasure as his cock strokes your insides. Law chuckles and sinks his two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, right down to his knuckle tattoos.

“I didn't think so,” he groans. 

[kyxhiin]

[Kinda late Halloween post]

Billy gets a caramel apple during trick or treating! But he accidentally got it stuck to his teeth and literally nobody could pull it off so he has to ask Batman for help. [Happy identity reveal]

Billy was out trick or treating with Mary and Freddy out in the costumes in my last post. Short story he gets a caramel apple from one of the rich house during it. He happily takes a bite before... it gets stuck.

At first it was all funny silly haha. But then when he tries to get it unstuck from his teeth it doesn't get off. At first Freddy snorted at him for not being able to pull it off, so he tries. Fails, ans he tries again, and again, AND AGAIN. At this point things are getting weird, Freddie's feet are on Billy's chest, both of his hands pulling on that darned caramel apples stick like his life depended on him, his face going red from trying to pull it so hard.

In the end of it, both of them are panting on the ground while Mary watches over them with a giggle. So she tries as the 3rd person. What the hell? Did they add super glue to the caramel. At this point Billy stops both of them for trying to take the apple off cause, what if they pull out a tooth? What if he has to live with a missing front tooth like old ganderson down the street?

After a bit of back and forth he comes up with an idea to contact batman! ..That really was the best idea they could come up with, but well the bat knows alot of things and he has A LOT of kids so he will probably yeah probably know how to deal with this right? Right???

So on the comms Billy requested. (Added the speaking things for a bit of realism. And also it would be really hard to just speak with a full on apple stuck to your teeth.)

Billy: Hei Va-man? (Hey Batman?)

Batman: Yes, Billy.

Billy: I goh a cawame appuh shtuh o mah eeth. Wha o I o??(I got a caramel apple stuck to my teeth. What do I do??)

Batman who somehow understood all of it cause he's Batman: Get some warm water, not hot. And slowly pour it in between the crevices.

Billy: Oh ay (Okay.)

During the 1 minute while Billy did that Batmam heard along the lines of "Uh e sha wah noh- AHHHHHH (Uh he said warm not-) Cause Freddy who held a thermal water bottle, poured HOT water on it not warm HOT. Boiling even (an over exaggeration but you get my point.)

Batman, dad insticts kicking in immediately jumping from the chair he was in: Billy! Billy are you alright?

Billy: AHHHHHG