#and why would you ever start dating that sort of man to begin with

[kwangyanese]

yunho and uhm junghwa were at hyun*s wedding

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 2/3)

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

Part 3

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[pombeom]

pose away | yeonjun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: enemies to lovers, arrogant model!yeonjun x sub photographer!reader

warnings: nicknames, slut shaming, blowjob, wall sex, markings, unprotected sex, hair pulling

a/n: this might be my favourite fic written yet! djsjkskssjjaka im craving mean yeonjun so bad rn! not proofread

Working as a freelance photographer bought its many challenges. Today was one of them. You hauled yourself out of bed early in the morning to begin setting up the make-shift studio in your living room. Whilst you were studying photography at a college, working part time gave you the opportunity to build up both your experience and portfolio. Often times you don’t get a choice as you take on whatever projects come your way. Even when the person you despised most on campus comes to you asking for a photoshoot, no matter how much you wanted to refuse, you agreed, setting up a date for your shoot which happened to be today. 

You move the lights arounds, working out the best places for them and begin creating an inspiration mood board on your phone before he arrives. The sun burned through the large windows, raising the inside inside your home so you turn on the aircon, hoping it would cool your house down in time for your guest’s arrival. You know he would complain about it being too warm being the spoiled brat he is. You didn’t want to take any chances, especially not today when he had promised you a large sum of money for your services even though you often charge little to nothing. 

Just as you finished setting up, cleaning up the final bits and bobs around the room, you hear the bell ring and not even a second later, a loud thumping on the door. 

“My god, he can’t even wait a second can he,” you sigh shaking your head at his impatience, already regretting accepting his clientele. 

You open the door to see a tall man standing arrogantly in front of you, wanting to wipe away that smirk on his face as he walked in, shoving past you. 

“Nice set up you there,” he says as he makes his own way through your living room, seating himself down on your leather sofa, manspreading his long legs. 

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes, attempting to suppress your annoyance. Why on earth is Yeonjun in your house right now? How did this even happen? 

He’s wearing a linen shirt, the first few buttons undone, and black slacks making his outfit look laid back in a put together kinda way. His long hair is styled so it’s tucked behind his ear but a few strands strayed and fell onto his face. No matter how much you hated him, you weren’t blind to the fact that he’s probably the most attractive person on campus. There’s a certain aura he possesses that just lures you in. But you were better than that. He doesn’t seem to control you the way he does other girls. No matter how many times you nearly slipped into his charm, you had always managed to bring yourself back. 

“Are you gonna tell me what to do, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” His sharp voice brings you back, slightly embarrassed that he caught you. 

“I wasn’t staring, simply observing you to see what I’m working with.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already “observed” me enough before. Unless you wanna keep staring, then go for it. I don’t mind. I know you like it too,” you let out a sigh, making sure he could hear it, rolling your eyes at his self-centredness. How you were to put up with this for another 3 hours was beyond you. 

“Come stand here. You see the green tape? Just make sure you stand behind it. You can pose away Mr Choi Yeonjun,” you instruct, getting behind the camera as he makes his way onto the white screen. 

Without needing much guidance, he gets into all sorts of poses. He starts off by crouching, sticking out his tongue, eluding with sexiness before shifting to another pose where he’s standing up again, hands in both pockets as he tilts his head ever so slightly but in all the ways that makes a difference. 

For the next 30 minutes, he is constantly moving while you’re almost having to do an entire workout just to keep up with him. The heat of the room also gets to you, your cheeks flushed red which Yeonjun notices. 

“Are you blushing from how good I look, doll?” his smirk, combined with the nickname sets you off, feeling the heat burn through your cheeks even more. 

“Shut up. How about we take a break?” You question, trying to distract you from the fact that you’re now ever so slightly turned on by his comment. 

With that, Yeonjun is slumped back on your couch, while you run to the kitchen, rummaging through your freezer trying to find an ice lolly to cool and calm you down. 

You discard the wrapper in the bin, taking the long stick of coloured ice in your mouth, sucking off the first layer is its juices. You moan at the feeling of the cold entering your mouth, as the ice begins to melt around it. Walking back to the living room, Yeonjun puts his phone down to look up at you, once again with a smile that has a mischievous allure plastered onto it. 

“Doll, you think you could suck a cock like that?” 

His remark has you pulling the ice lolly out your mouth instantly, making a pop as it comes out. Your jaw is left hanging as you feel the butterflies in your stomach travel up to your throat, leaving you speechless. 

He stand up and steps towards you ever so slowly that for some reason you wish he would go faster so he could be closer to you sooner. When he gets less than 2 feet away, you step back hitting the wall as his arms cage you, trapping you in his presence. His fingers wipe away the juice from your iced treat in one swipe as he takes it to his own mouth sucking off the liquid. Your eyes enlarge from the proximity and his actions, feeling the ice drop down your fingers as well as a wetness forming in between your legs. 

“I asked you a question. Do you think you could suck a cock like that?” 

“Mhmm…” you were only able to make a short sound while you nod your head, not shying away from his sharp gaze. 

“Why don’t you show me then, doll?” He caresses your hair before grabbing it into a tight ponytail and before you know it, you’re on your knees below him, almost seeming as if you were begging for his dick. 

With his free hand, he unbuttons his trousers letting them slip down his lean legs and as if on cue, you pull down his black boxers, his long cock springing out. Whilst he may have been an average on thickness, he definitely made up for it in length, so much so that you could already feel it hitting the tip of your cervix. 

“Come on doll, suck my pretty cock.” 

You begin by encapsulating just his tip in your mouth, letting the coldness from the ice transfer onto his hard length to which it reacts by twitching in your mouth as Yeonjun hisses. You slowly move up and down his shaft looking up at his face whilst doing so, meeting his eyes filled with lust. 

“You’re pretty mouth looks so good around my cock, doesn’t it, doll? Go faster.”

His grip on your hair tightens as he begins shoving his dick into your mouth as if on a rampage, tears falling from your eyes. His other hand grabs ahold of your chin, lifting it up further to better his view of what he was doing to you. Your moans vibrate against his cock, sending him into a high as he grunts with every pump. You feel him twitch in your mouth and before he can cum, he pulls out harshly, making the same pop as your ice lolly. Your sobs don’t stop even after he’s pulled out, craving to feel him more. Especially inside you. 

“Aww, is my doll crying because she wants me? I think I can help with that. Stand up,” he commands, his voice firm but flirty. His assurance only made him sexier at this present moment as much as you hated to admit it. 

Once you’re on your feet, he slams you back into the wall and pulls down your shorts in one swift move, revealing your white lace thong. 

“I knew my doll was a slut for me. Even if you hate to actually say it.” 

Your excuse was that you hadn’t done your laundry yet so you were left with your more extravagant pieces of lingerie but even you knew that deep down he was somewhat correct. 

You feel a sudden sensation as you feel Yeonjun’s lips attached to your neck, sucking under your ear, instantly having found your sweet spot. Melting under his magic touch, your hands automatically move around his neck, pulling him in closer, wanting to feel him more. 

“Yeonjun. Touch me please.” 

You were desperate for him and you hated it but with the puddle increasingly seeping through your underwear, you couldn’t care less, only wanting to feel him inside you. 

Yeonjun, strokes your clothed pussy, that being enough to send you off high, as you moan in his ears, humping his hands. 

“Such a slut for me, are you doll? Wonder what you’d be like if you had the real thing slamming into you?” 

And that’s exactly what he did. Pushing your thong to the side, he rams his cock in, not letting you adjust, pushing in and out of your pussy as he holds up your thigh, ensuring that he can hit into you deeper. With each thrust, you let out a sinful moan, as Yeonjun’s pride and ego skyrocket through the roof. As he picks up the pace he lifts you up, supporting you against the wall by holding up both your thighs. Even then, he didn’t slow down, continuing to slam his cock into you, abusing the top of your cervix over and over. 

“You’re so fucking hot, doll. Can’t wait to be cumming on you babe. Can’t wait to ruin you. You want that don’t you?” 

The way he thrusts has you feeling his cock all the way in your throat, making deep moans the only thing that come out your mouth. 

“Going dumb on my cock, doll? Such a slut aren’t you?” 

He rams into you even faster as you feel your orgasm getting closer. Your hole now sensitive as you feel the knot in your stomach build. 

“Yeonjun! I’m gonna cum!” You scream, wanting to reach your high. M

You let out one last moan as the orgasmix wave ripples through your entire body, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Yeonjun rides out your high before pulling out and pulling his own spurts of cum onto your T-shirt which you hasn’t removed. Your favourite black T-shirt was now stained with his cum, not knowing if a round of washing would help. 

You collapse as your legs were physically unable to hold you up but before you reach the ground, Yeonjun’s arms catch you, supporting your waist, helping you remain standing. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot. And you’re such a slut for me. If only I knew sooner. Would have fucked your brains out much sooner.” 

You finally fell. After 2 years of holding it back, you finally fell for Yeonjun’s charm and his lustful aura. Any sense of disappointment you would have felt was overridden with the fact that you had gotten the best sex of your life from this man you despise. 

[petew21-blog]

Workout routine

My best friend from school, Emily, married last summer while still being at university with me. She is still young, but claimed that her boyfriend truly loves her. Bullshit if you ask me, he never respected here and treated here like a trophy wife since the beginning. Yeah I hated him. He was a homophobic asshole and acting like some fuckin' alpha male. Why Emily dated him I never understood

One day we were on their garden studying for an upcoming exam. I was nervous most of the time cause James was working outside fixing stuff and eyed me like a prey. Emily went to get us some snacks and drinks.

He came up to me and started some homophobic talk how I could choose this path of sin and so on. I couldn't look up at him. Cause he was very close to me, very shritless and VERY sexy. Way too much. If I looked up even for a second, I would immediately get hard.

"You gays are the worst thing about this generation. You can't even work, y'all do your artsy useless shit and nothing usefull"

"Can you just let me live and go on about your life? I don't want to listen to this."

"Well you're on my property so you'll listen to whatever I have to tell you"

A call from inside the house. Emilly called him

"You're lucky. If it weren't for her you'd be already on the ground biting dust"

What an idiot. I was raging. I think I'll just leave and go home. I can't calm myself down and I don't want to cause any drama with Emily. Even if I think her husband is horrible, I don't want ot loose her a s a friend"

Emily came out of the house, smiling. She brought the snacks and water. She looked at me "Sorry for... taking so long. I had to sort something that couldn't wait. Now drink up, you haven't drank for hours. I should have brought drinks sooner."

I took the glass and took a sip. But then I felt really nauseaous. My vision was blurry now and I felt like vomiting. All I could make out of Emily's face was that she was smiling.

Then my vision started getting clearer again. But it was strange, I wasn't outside anymore. I was in their kitchen, holding a glass. "How did I get here?" went through in my head. As I looked for the nearest surface to put down the glass I noticed that I was shirtless.

Wait, what?!? This isn't my body!!!

I let go off the glass destroying it. But nothing could have prepared me for being this ripped in the matter of seconds. This is something I always wished for, but never thought I would get. I was always the skinny twink trying to build more muscles, but couldn't. And now, I have massive muscles.

I found a mirror in the hall. No, this can't be happening. I am James. I can't be him. He is an asshole. A homophobic asshole.

But his body thought otherwise. His dick got hard. And it isn't small. Which might be cool to play with, but now I was still angry everytime I looked at the mirror.

"Enjoying yourself?" Emily asked as she entered the house

"What have you done, Ems?"

"I gave you a new body. The one you have been lusting for. And as a side effect I got myself an improvement for a boyfriend. I loved him before, but I was blind and deaf to all the things he said on your account and to all the things he commented about me. Never appreciated me. But you are the best man I ever knew. And I wanted to be with you even if I wasn't your type. But now, I think I might be" she said as she placed her hand on my new crotch.

I thought I wouldn't like this, cause I was gay for my entire life, but James's body is still straight. But in my mind I could even picture myself with a dude and not be disgusted

"Ems, I think you didn't turn me straight as you wished for. I think I'm bi, actually"

"Whatever is best for both of us. I got a cute gay friend who you might like and who would love to explore your body, with me. But I think there might be some emotions involved, you know. Cause of the previous ownership and so on." she said and laughed out loud.

I took her up and put her on the kitchen table. Embracing her and going for a kiss.

"Ems, you are the best friend I could have ever wanted. I love you and I will love you now as your husband"

We could hear a scream outside coming from the garden. We could only smile at each other as we knew what was coming

Two months later:

"Hey, my name is James and this is my colleague Robert. Robert is a small gay dude friend from my wife. We are going on a road trip to get to know each other better with the permission from my wife. So we would like a room"

"Oh, there's only double bed? That's absolutely fine with us, right Robert? Bro's will be bro's and NO HOMO. Hahaha"

A story request from Inbox: Could you do a swap with a Twink and his best friend’s bodybuilder husband?

[ronearoundblindly]

A Casual Kiss

Bucky Barnes x reader, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024

It's just adorable fluff, really. No warnings. Divider by @cafekitsune WC 547

A lot has happened to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes over his long life. He used to be a ladies’ man and a traditional sort of soldier. He used to have all his natural limbs. He used to take maybe a touch too much pride in his appearance. A lot has also changed.

Wars change people. Injuries change people. People simply change over time.

And Bucky Barnes has been around a long, long time.

You knew all this from the beginning, of course, because his whole tragic history had already been slashed across newspapers and television by the time you started work in the same building.

He started out cold, then he became reserved, and then he was cautious. You didn’t even know he knew your name until the day he—very formally and awkwardly—asked you out, and the relationship developed…predictably.

That’s the best word for it. Predictable.

There were a few dates before he hugged you goodnight. The next time, he kissed your cheek. The next, you got a chaste peck on the lips. So on and so forth.

Measured increments of intimacy.

It was predictable and still wonderful.

Bucky isn’t good with ‘easy-breezy’ anything, you see. He’s intense and considerate. He plans ahead and for all contingencies, and so you’re taken aback by this random passing in of your department leaving the conference room and Buck’s team coming in.

There’s plenty of people around. Normally, that means a kind smile, perhaps being asked to step aside for a moment so he can say hello and check on your day, maybe check on your plans for dinner, but today? Today is different.

He’s smiling alright, smiling wider and brighter than you’ve ever seen him on the job. His shoulders are relaxed and loose. He’s strutting right for you, and suddenly, like a choreographed dance move, he twists, kissed your forehead, and twists again, still walking but backwards now.

Bucky winks at you as his metal hand finishes a soft graze down your arm.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Love you, doll,” he whispers though at least half the room can probably hear.

It’s not as if no one knows at work. You’ve dated for months, and for that whole stretch, Bucky’s been a perfect gentleman, just very…not casual. This is new.

So why not make it even stranger?

Your boyfriend snaps his flesh fingers like he just remembered something, nearly skipping the couple of feet to your side.

“Hey, so, I know we were doing movie night, but Sam’s taking some folks out to the corner bar. His treat.”

You can’t help but snort.

“Oh? And let me guess. You—who is unable to get drunk—would like to make him pay for the multiple bottles of top-shelf liquor you can consume.”

Bucky waggles an eyebrow, and you’re stunned.

“Know me so well,” he coos, leaning in to plant one more solid smooch on your lips.

Your lipstick stains his mouth until Bucky’s tongue wipes it away.

“I’ll pick you up at your office.”

You’ve hardly controlled the flutter in your gut but now have a grin fighting to break free. All you can do is nod, heading for the exit, thinking:

People always change over time…and sometimes, change is for the better.

A/N: Yeah, so, absolutely no one requested this and I don't care because HE DESERVES THE KISSES.

James Mace and a kiss without motive ⬅️ ➡️ Jake Jensen and a kiss to distract

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[kentosbabes]

Reformed Playboy Gojo? Yes, please!

Playboy BF Gojo loves to spend, he had a spoilt childhood with his parents catering to his every need. You can see this in your relationship with his need to spend money on you all the time. At first, you felt uncomfortable, it felt too much like charity, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, it started off with large things, like an actual car for your birthday when you complained about how hot public transport was in the summer and an apartment in your name just because.

Playboy BF Gojo never would have pictured himself being so domestic with you, he was a total player. Went out all the time, so much so that the bars and clubs all knew him by name. Women fawned over him, and even some men. His phone had women saved under numbers and addresses, #25 Downtown blondie.

Playboy BF Gojo met you at his parent's company, you worked as the head of secretarial duties and were under the direct supervision of his father. His father was fond of you and your work ethic and often wondered where he went wrong with Gojo who was the complete opposite of you.

Playboy BF Gojo had a discussion with his father and mother about the future of the company and whether or not he was going to settle down and provide some heirs, Gojo adamantly refused the idea of having an arranged marriage with some uptight virgin that his parents wanted him to breed and pop out an heir and a spare. Instead, he told them that he was in a relationship already, you.

Playboy BF Gojo brought the idea of fake dating up to you whilst you were on your lunch break, you choked on some air and he handed you some water, ever the obnoxious man "I know I am a catch but please don't lose your breath over me," you rolled your eyes and resolutely told him absolutely not. You were happy at your job, and you finally got that promotion you have been dying for, why would you risk that to satisfy some rich guy who could easily get someone else to do this?

Playboy BF Gojo took to showing up every day for work to hang out with you, he would begin the day by giving you your coffee order- did he memorise that? and sitting down at your desk until you give him attention. He is an attention whore to the max, god forbid you to be busy with your actual job, he would just be in a strop and be sulky for the rest of the day. "Ever heard of deligating, hm?" Gojo has never in the history of his entire life ever been at work for this long, he even learnt some things about the company's management and general business like the major acquisition that he wouldn't have known about if not for you being stressed about.

Playboy BF Gojo hates seeing you stressed, he understands that you have work to do, but he doesn't understand your love for your job and your colleagues. His father pulled you into an emergency meeting and you left at 10 pm, but you left with a smile. You were shocked that he waited for you but when you asked about it he simply rolled his eyes and told you to hop onto his motorcycle. Dropping you home and waiting till you headed in through the door.

Playboy BF Gojo was making you feel quite confused, he was acting out of sorts by being so thoughtful. The small things were making you blush and have butterflies in your stomach, god you were giggling to yourself after you closed the door on him. You guys have been getting closer and closer and you could honestly call him a friend. Gojo is much more than that playboy persona he uses to drive people away, he's thoughtful and kind.

Playboy BF Gojo is possessive, you could equate this to his childhood, he was never one to share toys as an only child with a silver spoon in his mouth. So when he walked into the office with your morning coffee and saw you laughing at a joke one of your male subordinates was making and saw his hand on your shoulder, he saw red. It wasn't like you were dating but you were his, everyone knew that. So is it any wonder when he staked his claim to you with no words but pinning eye contact with the man?

Playboy BF Gojo deleted all the women off of his phone with no thought, blocking all the persistent ones. You started to notice a change in his behaviour, the usually arrogant and quite honestly annoying man became slowly a kind and sincere person who respects you.

Playboy BF Gojo took you out to get dinner, he was nervous. That sent alarm bells to your head, Gojo nervous? Impossible, his conceited exterior obviously wasn't working today. But then he surprised you with your favourite flowers and a heart-wrenchingly beautiful note to accompany it. He grinned and told that's not all and pulled out of his pocket a rectangular velvet box, you look up at him and he hands it to you, it was a diamond necklace. Understated, despite his love for being extra, it was wonderful. Gojo asked you out sincerely and you accepted his hand.

Playboy BF Gojo was nervous before your first kiss, it was illogical he's done a lot more than kiss other women, but with you it was different- he's never felt so in love, it was suffocating to him. He leaned into your face and looked at your lips, then your eyes and back to your plush lips, as if to ask for permission. Gojo pressed his lips to yours in a practised fashion, turning his head and pushing further into you to discover all the crevasses in your mouth.

Playboy BF Gojo loves seeing become undone by his actions, you really were a blushing virgin when it came to him. He came out of the shower shirtless, wearing just a towel. You followed a drip of water down the middle of his abs, pausing to look at him with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. You loved the little things like him wearing a long sleeve shirt and pulling the cuffs to his elbows so all you can focus on for the day are his forearms.

Playboy BF Gojo was gentle, it wasn't your first time, to say the least as much as he likes to make fun of you. You were incredibly nervous that he wouldn't enjoy it, you rationalise it by thinking that he used to enjoy the club nightlife and have had many sexual encounters with different women. He made it a point not to hide anything from you because he had faith that no matter what you would respect that it was in the past. But you can't help but feel out of your depth, he moves with a swiftness that only proves how experienced Gojo is.

Playboy BF Gojo used a lot of foreplay, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing before he actually did anything. Ensuring you were ready, he leaned into you, his breath tickling the nape of your neck, "I'm going to fuck you so well you lose all your inhabitions and by the end of all this the only thing you will be asking me is for more."

Playboy BF Gojo loves to give you good aftercare, he likes to do the works, bubble baths with expensive aromantic oils he bought just for you and massages with your favourite lotions he took note of the last time he stayed over at yours.

Playboy BF Gojo doesn't like being called a playboy anymore.

Playboy BF Gojo only likes to go by your BF Gojo.

Masterlist

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 8: Chopping & Piling Wood

A/N: hello, I’m back at it again with another fic about Nightwing. Also, disclaimer: I have no idea how chopping wood goes outside of what I’ve seen in Avengers: Age of Ultron so bear with me please 😅 also, surprise appearance of the rest of the batfam?? It's not based on Titans I just really like Brenton Thwaites -mod ghost

Ship: Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

Summary: Being randomly invited to a cabin two hours outside of your boyfriend's home town by a billionaire would sound like the beginning to a horror movie if the billionaire wasn't your boyfriend's dad

You and Dick had been dating for long enough that he felt comfortable to introduce you to the family, as much as he was nervous about it. You two were living in his apartment in Blüdhaven together, but Bruce had invited the two of you to come to the Wayne family cabin that sat about 2 hours outside of Gotham City. 

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you reassured Dick as you put another shirt in your bag, “I know that you’re nervous about me meeting your family, and it’s usually the person meeting the family that’s nervous.”

“Are you asking because you’re nervous?” He joked, trying to deflect as he packed his own bag that he was taking to the cabin with him. He faltered when he saw you raise an eyebrow at him, sighing as he flops onto the bed on his back. “Alright, ya caught me.” Dick grumbled as you sat next to him, 

“No, really? I had no idea” You chuckled, starting to run your fingers through his hair. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Dick paused as he thought about that for a moment, shrugging. “I don’t want to cancel on Bruce if he’s trying to be normal.” 

“That didn’t answer my question.” 

“…I have a lot of…bad memories in that cabin. I don’t know why Bruce is making it some family vacation spot.” 

“Does he know that you told me about Nightwing?” 

He shakes his head. 

“That could be why, or uh…I don’t know, maybe he’s getting soft in his old age.” You suggested, making him laugh. 

“You’re hilarious. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“As much as you do?”

“No one can love you as much as I do.” Dick leaned up to kiss you before you stood up again, going back to packing up your bag,

 “Just say the word and we’re out of there, got it?”

“Got it. But what’s the word? Bird?” Dick practically snickered, the grin on his face making your heart feel all warm and fuzzy. 

“How old are you?” You rolled your eyes at him but you couldn’t help but laugh at his goofiness, “but seriously—“

“I know, don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Thank you for worrying about me, though.” He stood up to go back to getting ready, dropping a kiss onto your head as he stepped into the bathroom. 

A few hours and a lot of I Spy later, you two showed up at the cabin, with both of you wearing one of his hoodies. You slipped your hand into his after grabbing your bags from the trunk, walking up to the cabin door. Dick had insisted that the two of you drive here and just meet everyone else at the cabin, which you were sort of grateful for. If he was nervous about you meeting his family, why wouldn’t you be? 

You stood a bit behind him as he knocked, and the man you assumed to be Bruce answered the door. The man loomed in the doorframe, staring down at the two of you with one of the most intimidating auras you’d ever encountered. You were moments away from your heart starting to pound in your chest before you saw what looked like his attempt at smiling. 

“Hello, Dick,” he greeted before turning his gaze to you, “and you must be his new partner, I’m Bruce. It’s nice to meet you, Dick’s told me a lot about you." He extended his hand to shake yours, and his grip was firm but not as tight as you were expecting. Authoritative, yet welcoming. It was an interesting combination to say the least. 

“I am, and uh, thank you. It’s nice to meet you, as well, I see where Dick gets all of his good manners from.” You try to keep the conversation light, and it seemed to be appreciated by both Dick and Bruce. 

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m surprised that you two are the first ones here, I was just about to chop up the firewood for later.”

“Oh, I can take care of that if you want,” you offered, a little desperate to make a good first impression, “it’ll give you guys a bit of time to catch up without me hanging around.”

“I like having you hang around,” Dick spoke up at that moment, his hand gently squeezing yours. 

“You both can go, I have some more preparation to do inside before the others arrive. I’ll take your bags in, though,” Bruce offered, seeing how Dick wasn’t quite ready to be separated from you despite the two of you being in a car together for multiple hours. 

You both gave him your bags before letting Dick lead you over to a big shed that contained all kinds of supplies. 

“We’re not, like…cutting down whole trees, are we?” you asked, which made Dick laugh as he handed you an ax.  “No, of course not, Bruce wouldn’t let me do something like that even if I wanted to. C’mon, I’ll show you.” He continued to lead you back out of the shed to a big pile of logs toward the back of the cabin that was presumably meant for chopping. “Need me to show you how to chop it, too, or are you okay?”

“No, I’m okay,” You started pulling a log from the stack at the same time as Dick, but got more than a little distracted by watching him. The muscles in his arms flexing as he picked up one of the logs, the way the golden hour light glinted over his hair and features in a sort of yellow-y glow. You could honestly stare at him for hours, vaguely wishing that you had the ability to freeze time for moments like these.

“You still with me over there?” Dick called with a teasing grin, waving a hand in front of your face as he held himself back from laughing,

A dark blush flooded your cheeks as you realized you’d probably been staring at him for a while if he noticed, “What?--Yeah, of course.”

“Couldn’t stop staring at my gorgeous face?” He chuckled as he stepped closer, tugging you into his arms.

“What would you say if I told you I wasn’t staring at your face?” You asked with a laugh, a gasp escaping him.

“I had no idea I was with someone with such a dirty mind! You better reel that in before we’re not alone anymore.” Dick dramatically responded, obviously still messing with you.

“I don’t know how I can when I have a boyfriend like you.” You replied in a voice barely above a whisper, making him pause before he leaned down to kiss you like the sappy couple the two of you were.

Bruce eventually chopped the wood instead, seeing as you and Dick were constantly getting distracted by each other, which was entirely normal for newer couples, but not exactly ideal for manual labor. So instead of being outside, you ended your day on the couch in the cabin, curled up next to Dick and talking to his siblings as they arrived one by one.

[lexxiie]

John (Alipede) Relationship Headcanons

Fandom: Killer Peter

John x female reader

Hello guys! Missed me? This is my first time writing for Killer Peter. I figured it would be good to start all over again with something from webtoon since it’s a bit easier for me. Hope you like it, I have been obsessed with this man lately. (Please someone make a juicy request for Nathaniel, im so horny for him 😭)

As we know, he is notorious for being very possessive, and I’m not gonna lie to you, this fact was a big issue at the beginning of your relationship.

His concept of love is very incomplete since he never got to experience it before you, he never got to be loved by anyone, and he never got to love anyone either.

So much so that it took him a looong time to decipher what it was that he felt whenever he thought of you.

He also believed that he was too good to be interested in some girl, he was too set on his goals as a killer to even think about it. His focus was to become a legend, the strongest man to ever live, not to have any sort of distraction.

But one thing was for sure, he could not stand the thought of you with someone else, much less if that someone was another man.

The thing is, he has no experience with dating. He has never had an actual partner. Yes, he’s had a couple of casual encounters with women before, but never started a relationship with any of them, so he still has a lot to learn.

John couldn’t believe it when he realized that, for the first time ever, he longed for company… but not just any sort of company, he longed for you.

He quickly started loving the sound of your voice, your sweet smell, the ring of your laughter, the shape of your silhouette, the softness of your hair and even the pace of your steps, he had never felt anything like it.

He wanted you. He wanted you like he had never wanted anything else before. He needed to have you.

Luckily for him, you fell in love the moment you saw him, so he didn’t have to do much. You didn’t know why, but you could tell he wasn’t as cold as he wanted you to believe.

Still, as I mentioned, he is of a very possessive nature. It is thanks to you that he has slowly learnt how to go about it, he doesn’t want to ruin things with you, but at the same time, this is how he’s always been.

It’s hard, but not impossible. Though he is definitely the most jealous man in the world.

John believes every man wants you. If he feels their heart beat too quickly around you, he’s ready to kill. They can’t even look at you, every little thing upsets him to no end.

He’ll get between you and any man who approaches you, even if it’s just a friend.

But again, his working on that.

Still, he wants me to make something very clear, though. He does love you very much. It’s not just his need to have you that makes him orbit around you, no. He genuinely is in love. He loves everything about you.

He hates knowing that if he could see you, maybe he would finally understand the meaning the word pretty holds, he hates that he’ll never know. He hates that others have the privilege to know you in a way he never will.

And although in many ways his selfishness is more noticeable since he met you, he has ironically become more selfless.

For you, he would do something he could never have thought of doing for anyone else.

He would die.

He would die for you and that disgusts him. For the first time ever, he feels weak. He has something he could never recover from if he ever lost it; something that would be the end of him if anything happened, and no amount of pride could save him from that.

He takes care of you like he has never taken care of anything or anyone else before, and the truth is, his priorities have changed. He’ll never admit it, but he knows deep down.

His ambition is too great, he still cares about holding his reputation as the top assassin, but there’s this voice within him that wants… something more.

He wants what he never had, he wants love, he wants happiness, a family…

All this feelings are too new for him, so those things are very far away still, but he knows he’ll just grow to want them more and more over the years.

But let’s leave the future in the future, right now things aren’t bad either.

You have a partner who protects you like no other person in the world could, you feel safe and you understand him and his way of showing affection.

You might not see him everyday because of his… job. But whenever you do it is truly great.

He wakes up early to train, so he’s always waiting for you with a cup of coffee. The coffee sucks, but you won’t ever tell him. He can’t cook at all, but enjoys watching you and tries to help.

It’s hard for him to be romantic, and he doesn’t say “I love you” that often, but when he does, you know he means it.

His love language is touching you. Your hair, your face, your hands, and he loooves it when bedtime comes and he can rest his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.

He also really enjoys it when you read to him, the sound of your voice is pure bliss.

When he’s out in a mission, he’ll take a piece of clothing from you that has your scent just to feel you close.

Despite being very proud of you being his, you are a secret to the world. He’s just very scared of anyone hurting you to get back at him.

Especially Raphael. If there’s one person in the world who can never know you exist, that’s him.

Although he’ll never tell you, he loves it when you get too corny, you being all over him is his favorite thing.

His favorite kind of date is just both of you and a bottle of wine, he loooves wine and is always nice to have a drink with him.

It’s hard for him to get drunk, but if you get to that point, he may say things he doesn’t say often.

He can hurt you when you both have an argument, his words are sharper than a knife sometimes, his pride will make him say things he always regrets, however he has learnt to apologize, and he truly is working on that too, he hates making you cry.

John is terrified of the idea of you leaving him for someone else. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, he knows being with someone like him is anything but easy, so he’s very paranoid sometimes.

He loves the idea of knowing that there’s someone waiting for him at home, someone he must return to every day.

This man is just so overwhelmed from having you in his life and caring so intensely for someone else that he sometimes can’t wrap his head around how he ended up like this.

You belong to him, of course, but rest assured, he belongs to you, too.

MASTERLIST

[liyawritesss]

ᴡᴇ ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ' ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Miles Morales [Spider-Man] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Drabble

Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: When there’s question of how the two of you should come public with your relationship, Miles has an idea. Despite it being quite cheesy, it’s one of the sweetest gestures he’s ever done for you.

Warnings: Some cursing but that’s about it

A/N: ‘lovin’ so hard’ by becky g came on so randomly and when i tell you the whiplash i got cuz i aint heard that song in YEARS…so proud of becky she’s doing her shit and i love her sm…needa get back into her catalog real bad

Song Suggestion: "Lovin' do Hard" by Becky G, "Sunflower" by Swae-Lee & Post Malone, "I Wanna Be Down" by Brandy, "Comfortable" by H.E.R.

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog

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“I got a question.”

It was ten forty five on a Thursday night, and like any other night, you wind down the evening with a daily FaceTime call with you boyfriend of four months - Miles Morales.

In the four month time frame that you and Miles have been together, you’ve learned that the boy had a lot of questions to ask about you. It was endearing, really, how the extent of his curiosity knew no bounds. He had questions about everything, from the different hairstyles you wore, to the classes you were taking, to what you aspired to be as an adult. More often than not, he would ask them in a cute, almost childlike voice, with big doe eyes and an awaiting look of inquiry, and because he was just so polite about it, you always gave in.

“You got a question?” You repeat, glancing up to your phone, looking at the boy on your screen. You’d been busy with homework at your desk to pay him much attention, which, now that you think about it, could have been the catalyst for one of his questions. You’d only been on call for an hour, but you did tend to get reeled in to your work pretty easily. Miles was no stranger to this, so while he tried his best to not bother you, his attention span was waning thin, and he wanted to talk with you as much as he could before he had to go out on patrol.

Hence why he was dressed in his spiderman suit, no mask, but with gray sweats hanging off his torso and the faint sound of Biggie Smalls playing in the background as a way to hype him up for the next few hours of swinging around Brooklyn. He loved being Spiderman, but it had been an exceptionally long day, and knew he would not survive his patrols without some sort of pick me up - which is why he was more than happy when you called him for your nightly FaceTimes.

“Yeah, I gots a question,” he begins, albeit a bit dramatically, with his arms folded over his chest and a pout on his lips as if he were sad about something, which garnered your attention even more, “and it’s very important, y’know, so yo’ homework gotta share you for a minute!”

“Miles,” your voice goes, a soft scoff leaving your lips as they spread into a grin at his behavior, “what is it, baby?”

There’s a bit of a stutter that runs through his body at the pet name. He’s growing familiar with it, sure, but the tingle that rings through his bones has him questioning is it just his sheepishness or was he so down bad for you that you’ve influenced the enhancement of his spider-senses.

“That sweater’s lookin’ mighty comfortable,” he starts, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll at the game he starts, “wonder who you got it from, hm?”

Granted, you didn’t know you grabbed his sweater - the same one he’s always left over your house by conveniently ‘forgetting’ it when he left. It was a noticeable red zip-up that faintly smelled of sage and cinnamon, which was a comfort on cold days and stormy nights when Miles couldn’t be there for you in person. He’d ‘given’ it to you before the two of you started dating, and you’ve claimed it to be one of your most prized possessions generally, but especially from him.

“Boy, please,” you muse, lips spreading wide with a grin once more, “I’m not doin’ this with you tonight.”

“I’m just saying!” The brown-skinned boy exclaims. “I just find it funny how it’s cool for you to have my stuff, but I ain’t got nun’ of yours!”

While Miles was possibly the most emotionally intelligent boy you knew (which you’ve definitely thanked Mr. and Ms. Morales when you met them, both as Miles’ friend and as his lover), he loved to not be direct with what he really wanted sometimes. He feigned victimhood for the giggles he loved to hear from you, even though both of you knew what he wanted in the grander scheme of things. This instance was no different.

“Why you gotta be so dramatic,” you laugh at him, his lopsided grin making an appearance on his lips, “if you wanted one of mine you could’ve just said that, dork.”

“No!” Miles says rather quickly, which catches you off guard and earns him a puzzled look, eyebrows furrowed together at his behavior.

“No?”

“N-No.”

“So…you don’t want one of my hoodies? Even though we wear the same size and everything?”

Miles bit his lip in anticipation, his chest rising and falling with his deep intake of air through his nose. The boy scrunched his nose, a habit of his you’ve come to understand as him preparing himself to go out on a limb, which only confused you more.

“Your- uh…your scrunchie.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at his confession. “My…scrunchie?”

“Yeah, y’know,” he stairs to move his hand around, motioning towards his hair, “the things you put in your hair? That somehow don’t go against dress code, even though I always get talked to about my shoes for some reason.”

“To be fair, you got some loud ass shoes.” You respond, a short laugh breaking its way through your lips despite you trying to hide it. The pout that graced Miles’ face didn’t help with you regulating it, either.

“Okay, okay, fine!” You eventually say after regaining your composure, and before Miles goes to threaten to hang up the phone on you. “I’ll bring the jar tomorrow and you can choose which one you want, how does that sound?”

Miles nods vigorously through your phone screen, and you could tell by the little twinkle in his eye that he’s absolutely ecstatic about the proposition.

“This is…a lot of scrunchies.”

It’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth when Miles watches you dump the jar of scrunchies onto the lunch table, eyes growing wide when you seem to pull out more than what looks like the jar can actually hold. There’s a little pile of varying colors, styles and sizes that’s built itself onto the table, and Miles has to admit that the task at hand seems a bit overwhelming now that it’s actually before him.

Granted, he doesn’t think he’d ever seen you wear the same scrunchie twice, but had he known your collection was this big, he’d just asked you to pick one out for him. How could he possibly choose now?

“How many do you even have?”

“I don’t know, I stopped counting after sixth grade-”

But Miles is already sifting through the pile, pulling out ones that immediately catch his attention. He has a concentrated look in his eyes - he’s taking the task very seriously, and it’s honestly adorable to you how deep into this whole exchange he was.

You took note of some of the ones Miles has already pulled out - a ribbed-fabric beige one, a group of satin ones varying in shades of blue, and ironically black and red colored one that he continuously eyes every now and then, and a silk sake green one that just so happens to be your favorite. Miles finds out the reason why the second he touches it, being soothed by the silk fabric under his fingertips.

“You want that one?” You ask him, to which Miles glances up at you from across the table, seemingly embarrassed by his entrancement of the hair ornament.

“It’s your favorite, though, right?” He responds. “I don’t wanna take it if it’s your fav-”

“-and I think that’s the perfect reason why you should take it.”

You say it as you begin to stuff the remaining scrunchies back into the jar, handfuls of the bunches slipping into the glass container with ease as you spoke again, “It’s the one I use most frequently. Meaning it smells like me more. Meaning that there’s more of a ‘me’ touch to it, so that you won’t be as lonely.”

It takes a second, but when your words register in Miles’ head, you can almost feel the heat that begins to creep up his neck from the affectionate words you spoke to him.

The bell rings, signifying the end of the free period. Miles takes no time in slipping the hair ornament around his wrist while he bids you farewell. As you depart for the second half of your classes for the day, Miles can’t help but fiddle with the object around his wrist as his own classes drone on. 

You were right, he thinks, he definitely doesn’t feel lonely with the presence of your scrunchie with him. 

[wheels-of-despair]

Can't Help Falling In Love Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: You hit it off with someone else's date at a wedding. Contains: Instant attraction, horny thoughts, Elvis covers, ditched dates, and the beginning of a happily ever after. Words: 3.5k

Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. Writer WILL block you.

"Oh god, she's actually brought the bin man."

"Hm?" you hum, forcing your eyes to slide back into focus.

Charlie, your boyfriend of 3 months, has dragged you to a cousin's wedding. You're seated at a gaudy table in a venue that's probably bankrupted the bride's parents. You're bored, you're sick of smiling politely each time you're introduced to someone who won't even pretend they're attempting to learn your name, and you're seriously considering just walking out and catching a cab and blocking this guy's number. Why are you even here?

"My cousin Chloe," he says under his breath. "She's dating a dustbin man. Mum didn't think she'd be brave enough to actually bring him. But she's such a horrific bitch, perhaps the bin man is the only one who can stomach her. This should be fun. Hello, my darling cousin!" He stands and embraces her. Her date stands awkwardly at her side in an ill-fitting suit, looking almost as happy to be here as you are.

Polite introductions are made, and the couple joins you at your table.

"So Michael, what do you do for work?" Charlie asks. So much for subtlety. Chloe glares. Michael shifts uncomfortably.

"I'm a b--"

"He's a businessman," she cuts him off. Her date stares at the tacky centerpiece.

"Oh? What kind of business?" You wonder if your heel has the power to penetrate Charlie's fancy dress shoes and draw blood.

"Erm…" Michael bites his lip.

"Finance," she answers for him, giving her cousin a chilling glare before turning her icy eyes to you. "And you, dearie? What sort of business are you in?"

You hate these fucking people.

Before you can answer, someone makes a noisy entrance that draws everyone's attention.

"Oh, Aunt Margie's here, let's go say hi!" Chloe exclaims. She and Charlie get up and scurry away toward an old lady, leaving you and Michael at the table alone. After an awkward smile and a moment of silence, you have to break it.

"Been together long?" you ask.

"A few months," he mutters. "You?"

"Same," you answer.

Silence.

"Glad we weren't the last to arrive," Michael says. Good, he's feeling this silence too.

"I was worried about us being late too," you smile. "What's your excuse?"

"She couldn't decide which shoes to wear."

"That's probably a more socially acceptable reason than mine," you laugh. "Couldn't get my door to close."

Michael's brow furrows.

"It sticks sometimes, but today, it just would not close," you explain. "Charlie yanked and yanked and finally got it to shut. If I can't get back in, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"He hasn't tried to fix it for you?"

"Does he look like the rugged handy-man type to you?"

You and Michael both look toward your dates, who are giggling in a crowd of their finely dressed relatives in an attempt to secure their surely sizeable inheritance, then back to each other to share a smirk. He belongs here about as much as you do.

"Any idea what's causing it?" he asks.

"No," you answer. "I keep meaning to look closer, but every time I'm headed out, I'm usually in a hurry. And it works fine when I come home, so I say I'll do it tomorrow… and then forget about it until it sticks again."

"A vicious cycle," he smiles, warm and teasing. You laugh, feeling more relaxed now than you have all night. "I'd start by making sure the hinges and the strike plate are tight. Do you have a screwdriver?"

"The fuck do you know about home repair?" Chloe spits from behind him. The smile on his face fades, and his eyes drift down to the table. It's like she pressed a button and shut him down.

The cousins sit back down and talk loudly about their crazy aunt, but their words don't register. You can't take your eyes off of Michael. The look on his face makes your heart ache. How do you fix it?

"That's a really good idea, about the hinges and the strike plate," you tell him quietly. He looks up at you slowly, caution shining in his big brown eyes. "I'll check those out as soon as I get home. Thank you."

He gives you a tiny smile. You want to crush him in a hug.

Wait, what?

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asks.

"My door," you answer shortly, finally breaking eye contact with Michael to survey the room full of people you don't know.

"And Michael the businessman knows how to fix it?" Charlie asks smugly. Michael's face flushes red, his eyes downcast once again. Chloe glares at her cousin.

"He had a helpful suggestion, which is more than I can say for Mr. I Don't Know, Call A Professional," you quip.

That shuts him up.

"Would every one take their seats, please, so the ceremony can begin!" someone yells from the other side of the room.

Everyone returns to their seats and quiets down, and the ceremony begins. A song plays on an organ, a bride is walked down an aisle in the distance, old ladies dab at their eyes… probably. Your attention is on the bead of sweat rolling down Michael's thick neck.

What if you just leaned over and licked it away?

He looks over at you, as if he knows what you're thinking, and smiles. Now it's your turn to blush. You force your eyes in whatever direction you imagine the vows are being exchanged and hope he hasn't actually read your mind. What the fuck is wrong with you?

When the ceremony is over, everyone stands as the bride and groom leave the room together. Sweat still drips down Michael's neck. The collar of that stiff suit must be drenched.

"Charlie! Chloe!" someone shouts from across the room, snapping you out of it.

The cousins get up without a word, leaving you alone with Michael again. Normally you'd be offended by their rudeness, but right now, you don't mind at all.

"I'm sorry about him," you say quietly. "And her too, now that I think about it."

"S'alright," he mumbles.

"It's not," you argue. "They're both being dicks. And to the only person I even like at this stupid thing."

He smiles, showing off his dimples. Adorable.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," he complains, pulling at his collar.

"Want to go outside for a bit?" you ask.

He looks toward the cousins, who are laughing with a crowd of people you have no interest in meeting.

"I think they've already forgotten we're here," you laugh.

"Let's go, then," he grins.

You grab your purse and follow him out of the crowded building, staying close as you dart past all the mingling friends and relatives, until you reach a shady spot on the backside of the building.

"Thought I was going to die in there," he pants, fighting with his tie. "How do you get this stupid thing…"

"May I?" you ask. He nods. You step closer and begin untying his tie. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. He's pulled it tight, making it harder to get undone, but you don't mind taking your time. "There we go," you say softly, letting it hang loose. He reaches for the top button and struggles in his hurry to get it open. Your hands rise to his collar once more, moving his fumbling fingers aside and quickly unbuttoning several buttons to reveal a simple chain necklace and a smattering of freckles. He gasps for air dramatically.

"Better?" you ask, reluctantly dropping your hands back to your sides.

"My hero," he grins, glistening in the light of the setting sun.

God, what is this fucker doing to you?

The band starts warming up inside, and you both instinctively glance in the direction you came from.

"Should we go back?" he asks, suddenly nervous. "She's going to kill me for soaking this suit."

"What if we don't?" you ask.

His eyes flick to yours, and your heart stops. Why did you say that? He's literally on a date with with someone else! So are you!

"What if we don't?" he repeats slowly.

You stare at each other. Those big brown eyes have a hold on you. You feel like you're falling into them. Like Alice down the rabbit-hole. The smell of him swirls through your brain like a fog; he's sweaty, but not in an unpleasant way. It mixes with whatever cheap cologne he's splashed on to make something unmistakably male. It's intoxicating. You don't realize you're actually moving closer together until your lips meet his. They're so soft. They work with yours, not against them, in a dance that weakens your knees and makes your heart flutter.

A shrill laugh nearby brings you back to reality. You're suddenly aware that you're pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. You take a step back and glance around nervously, wondering if you were seen. You can hear other people talking around the corner, and smell the pungent flowers growing on the walkway nearby. The band is playing something vaguely familiar. You listen closer, and recognition dawns on both of your faces at the same time: "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley.

Without a word, Michael reaches for your hand. You slowly take it, and place your other hand on his shoulder; his comes to rest in the small of your back. You begin to sway with the song, just the tiniest bit, never taking your eyes off of his. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. There's something about the intensity of his gaze that makes you forget everything else. There is only Michael.

And his rock-hard erection that you just brushed against.

"Fuck," he groans and backs away, "I'm sorry."

Your eyes glance downward to the python he's trying to conceal, then back to his eyes.

"You want to get out of here?" you ask.

He stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and fearful. Did you blow it? Of course you blew it, you both came here with other people. They may be dicks, and you've been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks anyway, but…

"You're serious?"

Fuck it. You nod. So does he. And then you both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"I, er… I rode here with her," he mumbles, chewing on his lip.

A wicked thought occurs to you, and you dig in your purse and pull out a valet ticket.

"Guess who shoved his valet ticket in my face while he was ogling a pretty blonde he's probably related to?"

"He did not," Michael says, taking offense on your behalf.

"It's alright," you smile. "It all worked out in the end."

Michael grins.

"Come on," you laugh, reaching for his hand. You take the long way around and eventually find the valet lot. You hand over your ticket and wait for your ex-boyfriend's car to arrive.

"Woah," Michael says when the ugly sports car comes into view.

"Daaaddy bought it for him," you roll your eyes. "Wanna drive?"

"What?" His eyes dart from the approaching car to you. "Really?"

You shrug.

"You serious?" he asks.

"I mean, you can drive, right? You've got a license?"

"Yeah?"

"Then what's the problem? Scared to defile two of Charlie's possessions in the same night?"

He seems stunned for a moment, then a grin grows on his pretty face as the car comes to a stop.

"No problem at all, miss," he smiles, darting forward to open the passenger door for you. You sink down into the seat, he gently closes the door. He thanks the valet and hands the man a few bills. You fasten your seatbelt to keep yourself from slipping and sliding all over the leather seat.

He gets in and looks around, trying to get his bearings in the strange little vehicle. He inspects the gear shift and locates the turn signals, then pets the steering wheel and looks at you with a child-like grin on his face. You lean back against the headrest and sigh fondly, never wanting to take your eyes off of him. He's adorable.

"Where to?" he asks, straightening and suddenly serious.

You point him in the direction of home, and he takes off. He's a little awkward at first, but he gets the hang of the car in no time. He even grows confident enough to drive with one hand, and rests the other on your leg. The feeing of his rough, calloused hand on your smooth thigh nearly drives you mad. The ride takes entirely too long, and you admire your self-restraint for not telling him to pull over and take you on the hood of this tiny, stupid car.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally parks near your building. He turns off the engine, takes a deep breath, and looks at you with uncertainty.

"You still want to do this?" you ask quietly, praying that he says yes.

"You have no fucking idea."

"Let's go, gorgeous," you order.

He leaps out of the car and rushes around to open your door for you. He helps you out and follows you into your building. You make it up the steps and fumble with your keys, cursing your stupid door that won't open. You're about to offer to let him take you in the hallway when he gently moves you aside, applies pressure on the knob with his hands, and pushes with his shoulder. The door pops open.

As soon as you step inside, his mouth is on yours. You drop your purse and kick the door shut, and he pushes you up against it. You moan into his mouth. You can't remember the last time you wanted anyone this bad. And that includes the entirety of the relationship you've just abandoned.

There's no time to walk all the way to the bed. Hell, there's no time to shuffle to the couch. He takes you against the door the first time, your dress rucked up and his pants unzipped. He ruts into you with such force, you wonder if it's going to break the door in half. And then he reaches a spot inside of you that you didn't know existed, and you stop caring about anything but him.

You lose the rest of your clothes and make it to the couch for round two.

You don't make it to the bed until round three.

That's when it happens.

You'd happily stare into those beautiful brown eyes all night long, but he hits a rhythm that has you both squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. All you can do is grip whatever's in reach and hold on tight as you feel your release build… and build… and build…

And then a blinding flash of pleasure washes over you. You've never felt anything like it before. Is this what writers mean when they say someone saw stars? Michael keeps pumping in and out of you, and the feeling doesn't stop. An ungodly noise rises in your throat, and he buries his face in your neck and comes with a grunt and one final thrust, his deepest yet.

Your ecstasy fades slowly. You can't move. You can't focus on anything but the way he makes you feel. You lie there, panting and sticking together for several minutes, until he finally raises his head to look at you. You both laugh when you make eye contact.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," you breathe, feeling weak and a little confused.

"Never had that happen before."

"Never had what happen before?" you ask.

"Made a girl squirt."

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You raise your head and see that you are indeed lying in a wet spot on the sheets.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"I mean, I've tried, but…" he shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You reach a hand into his sweaty curls and pull him in for a kiss. He looks happy, but confused when he pulls away.

"I've never had a guy do that to me before, either."

"Seriously?" His eyes are ablaze.

"Yeah," you laugh.

"That was a first for both of us?"

You nod, basking in the excitement on his face that you helped create. He leans back down for another kiss, which you enthusiastically return. When he pulls back, you can't help but feel disappointed. You cup the side of his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb, not ready to be apart just yet. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Will you ever be able to get enough of him?

"Wanna try for a second?" you ask.

"Oh fuck," he moans, coming back down to continue your kiss, already getting hard again.

While you're recovering from another blissfully successful round, someone starts banging on your door.

At 2:37 am.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you gripe, rolling out of bed and throwing on the first clothes you can get your hands on. Michael looks terrified. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about him," you tease, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I'll be right back.

You leave Michael in bed and stomp to the door. You know exactly who it is. "What?" you snap through the door, reaching up quietly to engage the chain lock. Just in case he's grown a pair in the last few hours.

"You fuckin' left me, that's what!" Charlie roars.

"And it only took you all night to notice!" you chirp sarcastically.

"Is the fucking bin man in there with you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I fucking knew it! You nasty whores deserve each other!"

"You kiss your boss's ass with that mouth?"

"Open the door."

"It's stuck."

He groans loudly and kicks it.

"Yeah, that'll help," you deadpan. "What do you want?"

"I want my shit, you crazy bitch! We're done!"

"Ask me nicely."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You laugh and leave him to his tantrum as you fetch a paper grocery bag and begin shoving his stuff inside: body wash, deodorant, razor, a few articles of clothing and a shirt that you'd definitely used to sop up some of the fluids you and Michael had leaked onto the mattress.

Michael sits on the bed with the sheet wrapped around his waist, looking fearful. You give him a wink before you leave the room. You pick up some of the clothes you'd scattered across the living room floor, looking for the car keys, and finally locate them underneath Michael's pants. You toss the keys in the bag, fold the top down, and grip the knob. You open the door just enough to slide the bag through.

"There's your shit. Don't come back."

And then you shut the door in his stunned face, lock it, and return to bed.

Michael still looks nervous. You crawl into his lap and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Don't worry about him," you smile, "he's a spoiled brat who throws tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's harmless. Rich kids can't fight for shit. You, though? I bet you could scrap with the best of 'em."

Michael bites his lip and stares off to the side. You cup his face and stroke his cheeks, wishing he'd tell you what's bothering him.

"You know I'm not really a businessman, right? I'm just a bin man."

You laugh and capture his lips in a kiss, remembering to mumble an "I know, baby," at some point, which makes his whole body relax. You fall back onto the bed together, limbs tangled and mouths hungry.

You ride him 'til dawn.

The pair of you finally begin to wind down as the sun starts to rise. You lie facing each other, satisfied and sticky and too tired to do anything about it. You wish you could stare into those beautiful eyes forever, but sleep is calling you.

"If you want to clear out before I wake up, it's alright. I'll understand," you say softly. Inside, you're screaming and begging him to stay. But what if he doesn't feel the same?

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his bottom lip. "Would it be alright if I stayed?" he asks, almost like he's afraid of the answer. The feeling of relief that floods through you is so intense, you wonder if you're going to pass out. "I can fix your door in the morning," he adds quickly, like he needs a reason to stay.

"You don't have to do that," you smile. Worry clouds his face. "But if you really wanted to, I'm sure I could find some way to repay you," you smirk. His eyes widen. "Would it be alright if I made you breakfast?"

Now it's his turn to be relieved. He smiles and throws an arm over you to pull you closer.

"Would it be alright if I never, ever left?" he mumbles into your hair.

"Yeah," you sigh, getting comfortable in his embrace. "That'd be alright."

[ceruleanvulpine]

they're so goddamn funny. the cut from martin being like uhh no i think i will not call you by your first name, terrifying new boss?! to this really emphasizes that

a) they've been working together A Lot and

b) peter is a really annoying man. anyone who has more than three conversations with peter gets over their fear enough to start irritatedly interrupting him, which is presumably why he doesn't give people the chance most of the time

(transcripts under the cut)

PETER

Well, if your Archives were a bit better-organized, it wouldn’t have taken me almost three months to find the evidence you needed.

MARTIN

What?

PETER

I’m just saying that we’d all be better off if your Archivist actually knew how to archive.

MARTIN

(enough) Peter.

--

PETER

Anyway, I’m very excited to see this rota you’ve put together.

MARTIN

(overlapping) Oh – oh, okay.

PETER

Never had much of a gift for administration myself – too many variables. Now, this box on the left, that’s the library stuff, yes?

MARTIN

Wh– n,no! That’s the – Those are the dates! I – (clicking) Look, are you sure you don’t want me to teach you; i-it’s a very simple program –

PETER

No, no. Can’t stand computers. Besides, that’s why I have an assistant, isn’t it?

MARTIN

(sighing) Yeah. I guess so.

--

PETER

(patronizing) Martin. It’s going to be decades, if not centuries, before I get another chance to bring Forsaken into this world. (deep inhale) Your last Archivist saw to that. Honestly, if Elias hadn’t killed that woman, I’d have been very tempted. I warned him she was danger, but he was always –

MARTIN

(overlapping) Peter, Peter!

--

PETER

(long sigh, exasperated) As I said, one of the last shreds of the Circus delivered a gateway into Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe. I went to help, but was too late. Then, your detective friend –

MARTIN

(overlapping) No, she’s not a de–

PETER

(ignoring) – left on one of Elias’s wild goose chases. Then John willfully hurled himself into the coffin. I did not intervene because thankfully, I did not agree to protect your friends from their own idiocy.

[Martin huffs.]

--

So. So what; what does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new entities can be born, that there’s some – some kind of precedent for the Extinction?(slight pause) Peter? (pause) Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party. (clipped exhale) Anyway.

--

PETER

I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I believe you deserve some straight answers.

MARTIN

…But not from you.

PETER

Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable; no, I’m owed a favor by a friend of mine. I’ve asked him to stop by, once he’s back in the country.

MARTIN

You’re not just going to tell me, maybe?

PETER

(can hear the smile) When have I ever?

[Martin sighs the longest sigh he ever did sigh.]

--

PETER

Oh, come now. What would life be without the occasional twist? Oh, speaking of, I’ve had report of a workplace dispute in the library, and I would value your input.

I’m trying to get out of the habit of, what did you call it – sending them away?

[Martin sighs again, weary and longsuffering.]

MARTIN

Fine.

--

MARTIN

Another day, another Extinction scare. The more things change, I guess.

[He sighs again, longer this time. When he picks back up, a familiar squeaky static begins to fade in, quickly.]

MARTIN

I just wish Peter would finally get round to telling me what we’re going to do about it.

PETER

Then I have good news for you!

[Martin sucks in a hard breath, and we hear what sounds like his chair scraping backwards in alarm.]

MARTIN

(admonishing, annoyed) Peter, we have talked about this!

PETER

In my defense, it is still quite funny.

[Martin takes an annoyed breath to keep his cool.]

[roxy-writes]

the comment i'm replying to: please consider a cool college au dabi who hates his dad but still spends his old mans money. he's a good boyfriend, very low key and yet he manages to garner plenty of female attention, mostly superficially but abundant none the less. reader has to deals with glances, whispers and jabs about shade regarding being partners with dabi. a non conventionally attractive reader (I'm chubby but this could be anything you want) once he finds out some intense body worship 🥺🥺

FIRST OF ALL OMG I LOVE THIS. i haven't written anything with chubby!reader in a while so i'm very excited. i hope you like this!

warnings: chubby!reader, ppl making negative comments about reader's body, body worship, facesitting, not proofread

you were always aware of the attention that dabi attracted. you know he's good looking, and so does everyone else. this could be...disheartening for you at times. attending the same college as him made you ever more conscious of just what kind of attention followed him. the kind that made you feel sort of sick to your stomach at the thought of how much prettier the people that attempted flirting with him were than you. you try not to let the whispers and scowls thrown your way get to you.

dabi also always made his attraction towards you clear. whether it be a hand set on your waist or lower back when you're out, or, in more private settings, eagerly groping at your chest and ass. this was sometimes inconvenient. it only seemed to make people stare at you harder whenever he'd attempt the slightest bit of PDA. he notices how your behavior seems to change when people see you in public, and he immediately assumes the worst. that you didn't like him, or want to be with him.

so he tries to fix it. using his father's credit card of course, he'd take you out shopping to buy whatever you like, take you out on fancy dates, whatever. when this doesn't work, he begins seeing the problem for what it really was. he finally started noticing how people behaved towards you, acting like you weren't even there, coming up and flirting with him like you were nothing.

he confronted you about it in his room one night. asking why you didn't tell him how you felt, begging you for answers. you don't know why, you say, you didn't know if he would understand.

"fuck, why the hell would you think that?"

"'cause y'know, there are all these people that make comments about me when we're seen together. it's never you they're talking about."

he closes the distance between you to wrap his arms around you.

"i'm sorry. i'll tell all of them to fuck off. you don't deserve anyone's shit," although vulgar, dabi's words are comforting, and you wrap your arms around him as well. you bury your face in his neck and he pulls you closer in response. but after a few seconds he pulls back and presses his lips to yours the same way he always did. gentle but rough at the same time.

you almost feel bad for being kinda horny during a sweet moment like this. not like you can help it. and based on the slight bulge you feel pressing against your thigh, neither can he. "heh, sorry babe. i think i've got a big problem," he whispers sultrily in your ear.

"i can help you fix it, if you want," you say, and he couldn't have been more eager. your clothes were pulled off of you as he lowers you onto his bed.

"pretty," he mumbled softly as his eyes rake over your body. and in that moment, you felt pretty. he makes you feel pretty. his hands settle on your shoulders, slip down your chest and stomach until they're right where you need him.

his thumb presses your clit and rubs the bundle of nerves, causing you to jump slightly. he looks so turned on right then, you can see it in his face. and he can see the arousal in your face when he pulls you up towards him as he lays on the bed. all he seems to want is for you to ride his face as hard as you can, and why not give the boy what he wants?

"just, tap my thigh if you can't breathe." you tell him.

he plants both his hands on either one of your thighs and shoves his face into your pussy. you squeak at the sudden stimulation and unconsciously grind on his face. he moans and his eyes flit up and down your body, gaze landing on your chest. he watches it bounce as you squirm, his nose swiping your clit messily. you can feel his hot, wispy breath on your skin.

he's pressing you harder into him, getting his tongue deeper in you, his hips bucking into nothing. you start to get a little wobbly from the pleasure, so his hands lock onto you and his fingers dig into the fat of your hips that you hated until you realized how much he loved it.

you cum with a cry as he buries his face into your aching pussy. he lets you hump his face to drain every last bit of pleasure from your orgasm. you wait till the aftershocks wear off before lifting off him. "want me to return the favor?" you ask, but he shakes his head no. you're still sensitive and twitchy from cumming, and he gently massages your thighs to relax you.

one hand wraps around his cock to line himself up with your hole, and the other slithers up to your face to tilt your chin so you look directly at his face. "jus' focus on my face baby," he whispers, trying to distract you from the pain of the stretch when his tip breaches your entrance.

he fucks you like the world is ending tomorrow. fucks you like you're the only girl in the universe. he can't even think about himself when he's got you moaning on his dick and you look so good. his cock rubs against your g-spot and you see stars.

you cum before he does, and you swear he's pulling an even more lewd face than you are. he's so close, so fucking close, and what finally pushes him over the edge is the cry of his name you let out once the pleasure gets to be too much. he cums so hard he whimpers a little bit.

you think it's so cute the way he can't help but curl into himself at how good the couple seconds of pleasure feel. you both wish the feeling didn't end so quickly. he slowly pulls out. you bask in the afterglow for a while, dabi's body cuddled up next to you. you feel so much better. you know he'd never cheat on you, know he'd never hurt you or your feelings, know he's good for you. all it really took was realizing you were the hottest girl ever in his eyes.

[lowkeychenle]

See My Sea [ZCL] (M) Teaser

Description: You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea.

A/N: this is inspired by Marine Turtle sort of ??? it just gave me these vibes oops.

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (there is no smut in the teaser) (College AU where Chenle is captain of the basketball team like he DESERVES)

Content Warnings: SLOW BURN! Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty, verbally abusive ex-boyfriend appearances, mentions/instances of anxiety and insecurity, a panic attack Smut warnings: This might be some of my mildest smut omg, usage of pet names 'baby' and 'sunshine,' oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk? there's not much rip

Expected Word Count: 15-20k

Release Date: 6pm EST 2023.12.31

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark & Jisung, a male OC named Woojin, and three female OCs, Soobin, Jiyoon, & Heewon)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When Chenle makes it out on the court, the wide smile on his face takes you off-guard. There’s no denying the truth—he’s attractive. That’s the extent of what you know about him at this point, but you see plenty of attractive men every day. It’s not like they’ve ever garnered your attention in a way that made you want to watch them.

Unlike earlier, his hair is part down the middle now, probably from running around in practice and preparing for the game. He runs his fingers through it as he walks up to Jisung. The taller man was already standing with their other friend, who you can only assume is Mark. Chenle’s jersey has his last name printed in big letters on the back, along with the number 30.

You try not to study him, but somehow he’s like a damn magnet. No wonder he said he was used to people staring at him.

Jisung glances once in your direction, and then he nudges Chenle and gives him a nearly non-existent nod. He turns, and the second he sees you, his brows jump up in some sort of surprise. Then he grins at you.

“You’re being weird,” Jiyoon mentions, breaking you out of your trance.

“Huh? How am I being weird? He looked at me.”

“Yeah…because he invited you. And you’re here.” She snorts, running her fingers through her hair. “Speaking of which, I think he’s coming over here.”

Your eyes widen, and your head shoots up just in time to see Chenle jogging over to you. You have to crane your neck upward to look at him when he’s right in front of you, and you’re sure the shock on your face is what causes laughter to drop past his lips.

He pulls a simple bracelet off his wrist—one made with blue and gold thread—and holds it out to you. “Wear this for me?”

You blink up at him. “Why?”

“If you wear it and we win, you’re our good luck charm,” he states simply.

Your cheeks burn (hopefully unnoticeably) as you gently take it out of his palm. Your fingertips brush against his skin despite how hard you tried to avoid touching him, and once it’s completely in your hand, he backs away from you as Jiyoon helps you tighten it around your wrist.

“Are we gonna—” Jiyoon starts.

“Say nothing,” you cut her off. “Not a single word about that.”

She giggles to herself. When the game is about to begin, Jiyoon leans forward, hyperfocused on Jisung and the way he carries himself. You want to make fun of her for it, but you know she’ll come back tenfold with jokes about Chenle.

“Also,” Jiyoon whispers, getting closer to you without removing her gaze from the court. “He was totally fucking with you. He just wanted you to wear it. They haven’t lost a game this entire season, so.”

“Why would he do that?” you ask.

This time, she does look at you. She clasps her hands together and stares expectantly.

[miellifluous]

Love your yandere Bachira Scenarios but am I the only one who ever thought Reo was kinda yandere too? Can you write something for him as well but like with a reader who's less enthusiastic about it?

+ fem! reader, yandere behavior, betrothal, possessiveness, expect whatever comes with the concept of yandere

- Anon i’m so sorry i took this long to write your request have mercy 🙏

• I mean it’s a given Reo is a closeted yandere at this point 😭

• Honestly he’d love a challenge, he doesn’t want to just have you, he wants to earn you, being handed everything on a silver platter has made him jaded about receiving gifts, it’s no fun anymore

• You’ve easily moved into his list of treasures, and Reo can most definitely sense that his passion about you bleeds into something darker and more sinister but he really can’t help it

• He wouldn’t, in the beginning, try to get your attention by flaunting his wealth, he’d wanna try and approach you gently, coaxing you into seeing him in a better light

• He’d be friendly to you, never failing to greet you, inviting you to his games or practice and helping you with homework if you need it

• But then he begins getting more intimate, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheeks when you’re talking to him and sometimes leaning down to whisper something in your ear which would have been fine except it feels more like he’s giving you ear a peck

• And you’re quick to show signs of not being very fond of his actions, signs that don’t go unnoticed by him but which he is quick to ignore with a smile

• He clings onto you and follows you around despite your little excuses of needing to go somewhere alone. He dismisses them of course. Why would you need to be alone? Why would you need to go anywhere without him and Nagi?

• You know, Nagi would probably end up telling Reo straight to his face that he’s annoying you randomly one day, and that’s what causes the realization to truly sink in, that you’re not interested

• And Reo is both desperate and furious, he’s done nothing but follow you around like a faithful dog and this is the outcome? From that point on, he’d begin maximizing his dates with other girls, flirting with them in front of you just in the hopes that you’re gonna end up jealous or something which.. doesn’t work

• so he pretty much resorts to using his money. One day your guardian is suddenly jobless and when did you incur this much debt? The only person who can get you out? Reo. What does he want in exchange? Your hand in marriage. Sure you’re both in highschool, but you can be betrothed to him in the meantime

• When the deal is made, Reo and Nagi suddenly become the people you’re around with the most. Reo constantly surveys you in class, frowning when a classmate starts up a conversation with you and god forbid you get mushy with them

• He has certain expectations from your relationship, he’s a delusional man who wants your relationship to be perfect, so expect loads of affection from him and be ready to return that

• Reo would still be mindful of what you want.. sort of, he wouldn’t force you into anything intimate but he will get irritated and moody if you give him the cold shoulder or the silent treatment and someone.. might even get hurt

• He’s very controlling though, has your location on his phone, goes through your texts and if you’re been a good girl and haven’t interacted much with others, he’ll lift your chin up and pepper your face with kisses and of course shower you with gifts!

• He still has his desires though and he definitely has you dress up for him, specially when he’s in the mood; he’s getting you the prettiest sets of lingerie and the most frilly dresses and skirts that show off so much and just have you sit on his lap, stroking your hair or kissing you, strokes his ego up so much

• Would love to turn you into his wife, obedient and docile for him, one who would welcome him when he gets back from his matches, who’d look so lovely carrying his kids, who would cook for him..

• But Reo is still Reo and is therefore infatuated with you, which means he won’t ever refuse anything you ask (except to bail out of your relationship) and he’s at your beck and call

• He practically worships the ground you walk on and his room is filled with stuff you owned: clothes, bras, panties

• Not one moment when he isn’t thinking of you, you can maybe use that as a way to improve your condition because let’s face it, you’re not getting out of this one, Reo Mikage wants you and he will have you

[southparkxreader]

pairings:  post covid ! kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh x reader. trigger warnings : age gaps . reader is in her middle twenties , everyone else is forty nine . specific uses of she/her pronouns ,  uses of y/n + l/n ( get that interactive fic extension loaded , lads  ) .  disclaimer : i haven’t written anything like this in a long time .  only interact with this post if you are 18 or above , minors are not welcomed on my blog . small intro of a future series im going to start in a fic form , putting this out there to see if anyone is interested and to get a taste for how alive the fandom is .

stay with me ... fanfic series being kenny’s assistant.

kenny has a nasty habit of losing track - it can range from his paper work , to notes when he’s going on one of his tangents and just needing to let it all out before it fleets from mind, to as simple as forgetting what day of the week it is : forgetting dates, scheduled events, that sort of thing. he really cannot coordinate his own life if it meant saving it, he’s just got too much going on, ten fold when it comes to his work -

it was kyle’s idea, actually - listening to kenny apologize yet again for forgetting one of the days they were supposed to meet up on. he sighs, exasperated, annoyed, any rational person would be when plans kept going haywire because someone couldn’t even bother to turn up “have you thought about a personal assistant ?” leaning on his kitchen counter, watching the new snow fall as he leaned into the phone “it’ll help. if it doesn’t, i’m just going to stop making plans with you.”

is he being serious ? no, but still - he’s on thin ice.

kenny starts interviewing a week later, because it really isn’t a bad idea - he’s ashamed that he never thought of it sooner. the applications come flooding through, who wouldn’t want a front row seat to a genius like him ? the things they’d get to witness first hand, new discoveries, seeing his mind in person and with a front row seat. it was too good to be true, nobody in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to put their application through.

after about a dozen interviews, he’s just about ready to give up.

then,,,, you come in - it was like he took a shot of vodka with how you snapped him awake - his eyes trail over you for a moment, he could see straight away how nervous you were - despite how much you were trying to hide it. cheeks were clearly flushed, fidgeting with your fingers before you held out a hand towards the man, smile shaky but bright as you did your best to put on a brave face, a little tremble in your hand as anxiety shot through you didn’t go missed, either  “its a pleasure to meet you, mr mccormick, truly, it’s an honour. ” 

well, right then and there, kenny thought you were just the sweetest little thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. he had his mind made up before your hands locked together, his large palm swallowing yours so easily as he sent you a dazzling smile, if any of his friends were in the room they’d make faces, sending him an accusing glare , they know the look too well and it’s anything but innocent “it’s a pleasure meet you too, mrs. l/n. you flatter me too much, please, sit - let’s begin, it says here that you - “

he has to at least pretend to be professional.

you got the phone call later that night with confirmation that you got the job.  did you dance around your apartment, scream the minute the phone call ended ? absolutely you did. now you have a chance to actually enjoy work, to do something with your life rather than dragging yourself through it, to work along side the brightest mind of their generation.

he called kyle up the minute things were confirmed. telling him it was the best and only good idea he'll ever have again. to which he responds with a "fuck you... wait, what are you talking about ... why do you sound like that?" kyle knows, he knows kenny too well not to know.

when stan, kyle and kenny next have a meet up, it’s an annoying shocked and open surprise that kenny graced them with his presence, for having the ability to turn up on time. after a lot of shit talking, kenny finally falls into speaking about you, a little too much, stan and kyle have no choice but to want to meet you.  

when they do ... ?

oh... oh they get it . 

[coal15]

A few days ago I put up a poll (link HERE) because I had way too many ideas for fix-it fics after Buck and Tommy broke up, I decided to let everyone else choose which sort I should start with. The brain clutter was gumming up my creative process too much to focus. Well, since then an idea came through so vividly I just had to start writing it. I am keeping the poll up though, because I've got so many ideas that if the style of fic I'm already writing wins I'll just start on another one in the same vein, then tackle the second most popular one next. The one I've already started on is rated GA, romantic, angst, some laughs, and it will probably end up being about 3 not very long chapters. Below is an excerpt from Ch.1 of Door to Door

A little while later they were sitting on Eddie’s couch nursing beers in silence. Under normal circumstances Buck would ask Eddie why he was walking around the house in underwear and a long sleeve button-up shirt, but the song ‘Old Time Rock ‘n Roll’ blaring at top volume pretty much answered his question. What guy HASN’T acted out that scene from Risky Business at some point?

“It’s something new, I know that much.” Eddie said out of nowhere.

Buck frowned. “Huh?”

“The vibe you’re putting out, man. I’ve seen you depressed a lotta different ways for a lotta different reasons, but this one is new. So. You ready to talk about it or should we just keep drinking for a while? There is no wrong answer.” 

“He dumped me.” Buck felt his chin beginning to wobble as he spoke. “He actually–and it was, I, I, think, I don’t know, I asked him to move in with me and suddenly his whole mood changed. Outta nowhere. He said he was only my first boyfriend, not my last.” His eyes burned and he started to lose control of his voice, every word less and less steady. “He just took it for granted that I’d fall out of love just because there’s other hot guys in the world I haven’t dated–but I don’t want to! Eddie, I was so ready to just be with him and I don’t understand why–” by that point he couldn’t have choked out a decipherable word to save his life. He doubled over on the couch, and Eddie took the beer bottle from his hands so he could bury his face and sob. 

From what Eddie could glean of the Abby situation Buck got over her gradually, only half realizing it, and the only thing left to do was process what grief remained after the denial finally fell away. He and Ali weren’t together for long enough to merit more than some light moping. The breakup with Taylor hadn’t been easy, but at least then he had the comfort of choosing to end it, and the confidence of knowing he made the right choice. He loved Taylor enough to grieve the end of their relationship, but it didn’t destroy him. As far as Natalia, what was there to say? He latched onto someone, hypnotized by the desire to find a soulmate, and ended it as soon as he realized his mistake. This wasn’t like any of the other breakups. This was new. He patted his best friend’s back, squeezed his shoulders, and waited for the crying to subside enough to ask questions without making it worse. 

It took several minutes.

“I guess the first thing is, do you think he was right?” Eddie asked gently when the timing was appropriate. “I mean, I know breakups suck and you’re hurting, but . . . well, think about it. Carefully. You settle down with Tommy and he’s the only man you’re ever gonna be with. Forever.” He paused to make sure Buck was looking right at him. Eye to eye. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”  

“Yes!” Buck croaked, wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his sleeve. That is so gross, said a tiny sliver of his brain. Oh shut up dickhead, nobody cares what you think, said the rest of his brain.

“Okay,” Eddie nodded. “And did you tell him that? Like, did you make it abundantly clear you are a thousand percent ready to give up casual dating?”

Buck’s eyes and nose required sporadic dabbing as he considered the question. “I, I think I did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Thaaaaaat didn’t sound too confident.” 

“I told him my first and my last could be the same thing.”

“Could be? The first word you ever spoke could be the same as your last word, but it’s not likely. Plus either way there’s a whole lotta yapping in between.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?” 

“Future Buck.” Eddie plucked their beers off the coffee table and clinked them together. “I’m on Future Buck’s side.”

“Hmph. I hope his life doesn’t suck.”

“Um . . . I hate to break it to you buddy, but he’s kinda depending on you right now.”

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