#can I change it back in the settings please?

[binmeister]

Imagine the bodyguard reader doing a calvin klein ad [his fans would implode]

now hear me out: bodyguard!reader doing a calvin klein ad with Jinu and Abs

loose HCs to respond to this , also going to loop this into another prompt someone had sent me about what if bodyguard!reader was roped into model with Zoey for something because she was too cutesy and they needed something to up the sex appeal

cw: suggestive HC below - please be respectful - mild crack fic - poorly formatted - MDNI - male! bodyguard reader here

CK ad w/ Jinu and Abs

i'm imagining quite the eccentric photographer for this who just wants that perfect eye catching vision - absolutely loses it when she sees bodygaurd!reader's popularity online and she's harassing bobby daily to get him to do an ad for calvin klein because she has a certain vision in mind

i have a HC in regards to a saesang stab wound that bodyguard!reader has a thin jagged scar that around his hip regionish (due to write HCs or a drabble about that at some point)

the photographer is guiding them on what to do and it gets to a point where abs is leaning against a large cube, legs spread enough for one of bodyguard!reader's thighs to slot in between them just barely, both in well fitted jeans with the iconic CK band visible above the waistline of said jeans

flashes for a second and she's asking them to change poses, this time having abs be the one to slot one of his thighs between your legs

jinu had been on break at this point and had been given a towel to cover up his torso so he wouldn't be cold and he's just a little slack-jawed at the near pornographic composition

you don't seem too uncomfortable but then there's abs who cracks a joke at you and he sees you fighting for your life to not laugh, your jaw tensing a little because you're clenching your teeth and the photographer cheers before rapid fire shutter sounds are heard and repeated flashes nearly blind you and abs completely

she asks for a different pose now and you hook your thumbs into your jean pockets, as abs leans on your left shoulder (similarly to how he leans on jinu in that fanclub update video or how he leans on romance after their first performance)

more rapid shutter noises and flashes before she's satisfied and lets you two take a break, to which you'd both walk over to where jinu is and you're all just bantering - messing with each other as you crack jokes about who's gonna be the first one to pop a boner (guys being guys sorry)

you're back on set again with jinu this time, you'd both been given shirts to wear and then you're asked to lift the shirts up to 'tastefully' show the band of the boxers - jinu opted to slide a hand into his pocket and the shirt naturally bunches up in a way that the band is visible as he leaned his weight on one leg and you had simply opted to grab the hem and lift it just a little above your stomach as you mirrored jinu's pose otherwise

zoey's shoot / huntrix mature concept

the huntrix girls were due for a mature and sexier concept at some point, but unfortunately zoey is just too cute for what the concept teasers were supposed to show so the photographer on set looks around and his eyes land on you and he's just !!! THIS IS IT! get that man on set now

it leads to you with a silky dark red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to expose your forearms, tucked into smooth black dress pants but barely any buttons actually done up to expose your chest and stomach

you'd been instructed to lay back and zoey's awkwardly straddling your thigh with a hand on your chest and seems a little uncomfortable as the relatively scandalous article of clothing she'd been given seemed to ride up her thighs in this position & shes trying her best not to topple over and crush you or do anything embarassing at the same time - you can feel how tense she is as you're posed up together so the hand that wasn't caught on camera had tapped her outer thigh lightly as you tried to get her to look up at you

shutter clicks and then you make a dumb face at her for the briefest of moments and she's trying not to laugh, her head moving down and she had turned her head away from the camera so it didn't catch her choked up expression and unintentionally it made the composition change into where it looked like she was about to bite at your neck or that something more suggestive was happening which made the photographer cheer as more rapid fire shutter clicks could be heard

eventually there's a position where it's her turn to be laid on the floor, covered in fake flowers and plants as she appears to look desirable and you're directed to hover on top of her, your right arm holding your weight up as your forearm rests by her head and the photographer had personally walked up and positioned your other hand to look like it was trailing up her waist and you did so carefully which felt ticklish to her

then as he walks away to get the frame ready he calls for you to look down at zoey and give a predatory look and you're confused as hell on what that's supposed to mean until zoey makes a comment to make fun of you and you narrow your eyes slightly at her in annoyance which effectively gave the same result

the last shot he asks zoey to bend her leg and you instinctively go to cover the skin on her exposed thigh with your hand, the tips of your fingers had dug into the end of her dress and managed to catch it in place so it didn't hike up any further - habit from when you usually give her piggy backs and don't want her to flash anyone and he quickly takes photos of this shot too

[thetarotyapper]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ what qualities should you be seeking in a romantic partner ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

this pac is divided into two parts – the good qualities and the bad qualities. the good qualities will be talking about the characteristics you should be seeking in a romantic partner, and the bad qualities will be talking about the characteristics you should avoid/be aware of regarding a romantic interest.

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. scroll down to read your message!! remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! (ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pile I ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

my lovely pile 1, i feel like you’ve always been compromising yourself when it comes to love/relationships and i feel like the people you were interested in have always been intimidated by your success, one way or the other. i feel like people haven’t been honest with you and they’ve never really guided you - even as a friend. it’s like people want to see you lose your stance and fall down, you know? in this reading, i will talk about the good qualities and the bad qualities you should look out for. i hope you take care, and now let’s get to your reading<3

ᝰ.ᐟ good qualities

1. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who is gentle and patient with you. they shouldn’t be someone who gets angry at you for the silliest things. your person should be someone who values your emotions and understands where you’re coming from, instead of always making you guilty for being sensitive.

2. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who is honest and helps you see the truth. they shouldn’t be someone who blindly supports you, no. they should have your back and guide you mindfully. because i’m seeing here that you find it hard to accept things, so you should seek qualities of someone who helps you realise and accept things.

3. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who is faithful and transparent.

4. you should seek the qualities of someone who is as ambitious as you and who lets you be yourself. you shouldn’t compromise yourself for the sake of this relationship, and if your person truly loved you, they wouldn’t ask you to change.

5. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who matches your drive and your dedication.

6. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who helps you grow and helps you face challenges. they should be proud of your achievements and should not feel intimidated by your success.

ᝰ.ᐟ bad qualities

1. you should be aware if the person always tries to be “above” you. i’m seeing here that people might try to put you down just to look better and feel good about themselves- so please be aware if someone tries to do that. it can be revealed in the form of jokes, actions or whatever; but if you see this behaviour, please look out for yourself.

2. you should be aware if a person is being too bold or too “pushy”, as in like if they do not respect your boundaries. i am also getting a feeling here that you might be attracted to older partners, so this is something you should be mindful about because they might constantly try to dominate you and never let you have your say in a relationship.

3. you should be aware if the person is not ambitious. always make sure they have a plan, as some might just “go with the flow” but they do not have a set goal and sometimes the pressure to earn/carry the relationship might fall on you.

4. you should be aware if the person is too friendly with other people - because i’m seeing here that they might have commitment issues and they might have a lot of friends with benefits.

5. you should be aware if the person is not able to endure and forgive your mistakes. no one is perfect, so they should understand that and learn how to work with their feelings. they shouldn’t be someone who gets angry very easily, basically.

6. you should be aware if the person is not honest and transparent. they might be hiding something from you, or they are bad communicators.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pile II ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

my lovely pile 2, i’m seeing here that many of you might have an “i can fix them” mindset, and let me tell you this babe - it’s not good for you. i hope i don’t come off as rude, but like please know that being with someone who doesn’t value your feelings isn’t going to help you grow. protect your energy and your peace, and the right love will naturally flow to you. in this reading, i will talk about the good qualities and the bad qualities you should look out for. i hope you take care, and now let’s get to your reading<3

ᝰ.ᐟ good qualities

1. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who is willing to try out new things and is not afraid of change.

2. they should be able to navigate through their feelings and they should know how to breathe through any tension. they should handle difficult situations with ease and they shouldn’t blame you for everything - especially if something goes south.

3. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who knows how to balance things out in their life and someone who has an optimistic mindset. this person should be an inspiration to you and they should bring you out of dark times. you should seek the qualities of someone who will heal you, basically.

4. you should seek the qualities of someone who pays attention to your needs and someone who gets along with your family.

5. you should seek the qualities of someone who is very loyal to you and who does not doubt your relationship. there should be trust and certainty within the relationship, and this person should be confident about their feelings for you.

6. you should seek the qualities of someone who will nurture you and isn’t afraid to show you off.

ᝰ.ᐟ bad qualities

1. you should be aware if the person is not able to control the emotions. please avoid individuals who do not have good self control.

2. you should be aware if the person is too show-offy. like if the person only flexes their wealth and their succes, please avoid them. it shows that they are too full of themselves and that they only care about their stature.

3. you should be aware if a person is not able to make sacrifices. if they are not willing to give up something (that is especially unhealthy) for you, then please be mindful.

4. you should be aware if a person is being too defensive and doesn’t open up easily. i mean i get it, it’s not easy to open up to people - especially if you’re meeting them for the first time. but if their attitude doesn’t change, please do not strain yourself and work on the relationship if they aren’t valuing your efforts.

5. you should be aware if the person is not honest about their feelings and always keeps you hanging.

6. you should be aware if there are a lot of misunderstandings in the beginning of your relationship as this could lead to stress and conflict. your person should know how to balance their emotions, and if they’re having a hard time doing so, please be aware.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pile III ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

my lovely pile 3, i have a feeling that you’ve been with individuals who are very self-centred and egoistic. these individual might have only cared about their feelings and they have never had your back in situations where you needed them the most. i’m seeing here that you might have felt demotivated and felt like you were not seen in your relationships. in this reading, i will talk about the good qualities and the bad qualities you should look out for. i hope you take care, and now let’s get to your reading<3

ᝰ.ᐟ good qualities

1. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who remembers the smallest details about you. the person should look at something you like and go, “omg they (you) would have loved this!”

2. you should be seeking the qualities of someone who has your back and someone who will stand up for you, no matter what. they should be like a role model to you, and they should help you be realistic.

3. you should seek the qualities of someone who is going to inspire you and someone who is going to motivate you.

4. you should seek the qualities of someone who will let go of things you don’t like, and i’m seeing here that you’ll not ask them to let go of something that means a lot to them. maybe you’d ask them to let go of bad habits, and they should be able to do that. of course we can’t expect them to leave something entirely, but every small step counts.

5. you should seek the qualities of someone who is willing to take risks and is not afraid of change and is willing to let go of undesirable things.

6. you should seek the qualities of someone who is courageous and adventurous. another thing i’m seeing here is that you should seek the qualities of someone who is good at problem solving.

ᝰ.ᐟ bad qualities

1. you should be aware if a person is too prideful - especially if they try to make you look smaller than them. honestly, i’m seeing here that your person might be someone who is very talented and they are gaining reasonable recognition for their work, but if they are too full of themselves, and if they feel like they are better than everyone, then please be aware of this.

2. you should be aware if a person is taking on too many responsibilities and does not prioritise your feelings and your time, as well as your energy.

3. you should be aware if a person is too confident in themselves, especially if they come off as egoistic.

4. you should be aware if the person is being too kind, because there might be a malicious intention behind that kindness.

5. you should be aware if a person is going through a lot of mood swings. i’m also seen here that if the person is constantly looking happy and optimistic, it is fake. because i’m seeing here that since they know people will behave according to their emotions (especially since they have a lot of people admiring their work), they will take advantage of this - if that even makes sense. for example, if you are trying to pursue something with a member or a pretty well known band, that person might pretend to be all nice and happy because they know that they have an influence on people (their fans) and they might use this “happy facade” to gain something from the fans - maybe more recognition. but here’s the truth, their feelings and their emotions are completely different from what they portray. of course not everyone can be happy all the time and sometimes we need to pretend - but the feelings aren’t genuine from their side. ugh this was such a bad example, but i hope i made sense here!!

6. you should be aware if the person does not take care of their physical and their emotional health. you should be aware if they are neglecting self-care.

hiii loves, i hope this reading finds you in good health, and i hope you are doing well. i am not really satisfied with this reading as i feel like i could’ve done more, but i’m struggling to find time and i’m finding it so hard to manage my personal life as well as my professional life. i’m trying my best but i feel like it’s not enough. but i’m still pushing through, so that’s something 😅. i would be so glad if you could like my post and re-blog it, and please let me know which pile you picked - i would love to hear your thoughts and know if this reading resonated with you!! take care of yourself, and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

ps - thank you so much to the lovely person who gave me the idea of doing this reading!! i truly appreciate you taking the time out of your day and letting me know which reading you preferred🥰❤️

(note - tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures/dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators

[onlyforsebastianstan]

Lessons

Summary:

You and Bucky Barnes have always been close — the kind of best friends who share inside jokes, midnight snacks, and quiet truths. He sees you as someone to protect. Nothing more.

But after a night out with friends, where the conversation turned toward sex. Something you’ve never experienced, a curiosity sparked in you. Nervous and innocent, you turned to the one person you trusted most

“What does sex feel like?”

At first, Bucky laughed it off. Then he grew quiet. Your questions didn’t stop and after days of soft, awkward tension, Bucky gave in.

Genre:

NSFW | Smut | Soft Emotional Tension | (eventual smut, pregnancy themes, emotional intensity) | Friends-to-Lovers

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!

You and Bucky had been best friends for years, your bond built on late-night talks, shared pizza, and an unspoken trust that ran deeper than words. To Bucky, you were family—someone he’d protect with his life, no hint of romance in his steady blue gaze. He was your safe haven, the one person you could ask anything without judgment, and you were his reminder that the world could still be soft.

It all started at a meetup with your friends. The conversation had turned to sex, their stories spilling out with knowing laughs and vivid details. You stayed quiet, cheeks burning, as their words painted a world you’d never touched. A virgin, you’d never felt the urgency to change that, but their stories stirred something—curiosity, sharp and persistent. What did it feel like? The heat, the closeness, the intensity they described—what was it really?

Later that night, sprawled on your couch with Bucky, a half-eaten pizza box between you, the question gnawed at you. The TV droned on, but your mind was elsewhere. You fidgeted, twisting the hem of your sweater, heart pounding as you tried to find the words. Finally, you mumbled, barely audible, “Bucky… what’s it like? Sex, I mean.”

He froze, soda can halfway to his lips, his eyes flicking to yours. “What?”

You cringed, wishing you could sink into the couch. “I—I heard my friends talking, and I’ve never… I just want to know what it’s like. Sorry, it’s stupid.”

He set the can down, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his face. “It’s not stupid. It’s… hard to describe. It’s intense, I guess. Physical. Different for everyone.” His voice was gruff, and he quickly changed the subject, tossing you a playful jab about your terrible taste in pizza toppings.

But the question didn’t fade. Over the next few days, your curiosity grew, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking again.

At first, it was small—innocent questions about what made it special, how it felt to be that vulnerable, even what “cumming” meant, though you were too shy to say the word outright.

Bucky answered awkwardly, his responses short, his discomfort obvious. He’d deflect with a joke or a quick subject change, but your persistence wore him down, your naivety disarming in a way he couldn’t ignore.

One night, at his place, you were both sitting on his bed, a scattered deck of cards from a lazy game between you. You’d been pressing him with questions again, your voice softer each time, your shyness making the air heavy.

Finally, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Staring at your hands, you whispered, “Bucky… would you… show me? Like, do it with me? Just so I know what it’s like?”

His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What? You’re serious?”

You nodded, face burning, unable to meet his gaze. “I trust you. You’re my best friend. I just… I want to understand, and I don’t want it to be with anyone else. Please?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Doll, that’s… a big ask. You sure you’ve thought this through? We’re friends. This could make things weird.”

“I know,” you said, voice small but firm. “But I trust you more than anyone. I don’t want it to mean anything… romantic. Just… help me understand.”

He studied you for a long moment, his jaw tight, the protective part of him warring with your request. Finally, he sighed, his voice low. “Okay. But only if you’re absolutely sure. And we stop the second you’re not okay with it. Promise.”

“I promise,” you said, heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in your chest.

He shifted closer, his movements slow, deliberate, giving you every chance to back out. “Alright,” he murmured, his flesh hand reaching out to rest lightly on your shoulder. “We’ll go slow. You tell me what you’re feeling, okay?”

You nodded, scooting closer, your knee brushing his. The air felt heavier, charged with something new but still grounded in the trust between you.

He guided you to lie back, his weight braced on his elbows as he hovered over you, his expression serious but kind.

“It’s about feeling close,” he said softly, his hand sliding to your arm, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “Letting someone in, physically. It’s a lot, but I’ve got you.”

You swallowed, nodding, your pulse hammering as his hands moved carefully, lifting the hem of your shirt. You shivered at the contrast of his flesh hand, warm and steady, and the cool brush of his metal fingers. He paused, checking your face. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice shaky but certain.

He continued, slow and deliberate, shedding your clothes and his own with a clinical sort of care, keeping it as unromantic as possible. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but his presence was a steady anchor. When you were both bare, he guided your hands to his shoulders, letting you feel the solidity of him.

“Touch helps,” he said, voice low. “Makes it real. You ready for more?”

You nodded, and he shifted, positioning himself carefully. His hands found your hips, steadying you as he explained each step, his voice a quiet rumble. “It might feel strange at first. Just breathe, okay?”

When he entered you, the sensation was overwhelming—full, intense, a stretch that made you gasp. He froze, eyes searching yours. “You okay? Need me to stop?”

“No,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Just… go slow.”

He did, moving with a careful rhythm, watching your every reaction. With a muffled groan “Fuck… you’re so tight.”

The initial discomfort faded, replaced by a warmth that built with each movement, a connection that was physical but still tethered to the trust between you. His hands stayed on your hips, guiding you, teaching you how to move with him. The sensation grew, a slow burn that spread through you, making you cling to him tighter.

It was strange, new, but not unpleasant—a heat that coiled tighter with every thrust, every shift of his body against yours.

You felt something building, a pressure you didn’t understand, your breaths coming faster, your body tensing. “Bucky,” you gasped, voice trembling with confusion, “w-wait… I feel something coming out”

He slowed slightly, his eyes softening as he recognized your innocence. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice steady, reassuring. “You’re feeling it build. It’s okay. Just let go, doll. Let your body do what it wants.”

“Let go?” you repeated, uncertain, your fingers tightening on his shoulders as the sensation grew sharper, almost overwhelming.

“Yeah,” he said, his metal hand sliding to your lower back, cool against your flushed skin. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, trusting him completely, and focused on the feeling—the way his movements sent sparks through you, the way the pressure coiled tighter, like a spring ready to snap. His rhythm stayed steady, deliberate, his flesh hand gripping your hip as he guided you, his breaths ragged but controlled. The heat of his skin against yours, the slight roughness of his calloused fingers, the way his muscles flexed under your touch—it all blended into a haze of sensation, pulling you under.

When it hit, it was like nothing you’d ever felt—a rush that made your whole body tremble, a gasp tearing from your throat as you arched against him. “Bucky,” you whimpered, clinging to him, overwhelmed by the intensity.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low, encouraging. “You’re doing great. Just ride it out.”

He kept moving, slower now, letting you feel every wave, every pulse, until the sensation ebbed, leaving you breathless.

“F-fuck..” he followed, a low groan escaping him as he stilled, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a brief moment. Neither of you spoke, the air heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

He pulled back, grabbing a blanket to drape over you both, his movements quick, almost guilty. “Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his eyes wide with realization. “We didn’t… I didn’t use anything. Protection.”

You froze, the implications hitting you. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “I… didn’t think about that.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, panic flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought—should’ve been more careful. You’re my best friend, I wasn’t supposed to let it go this far.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

He looked at you, his expression torn between guilt and the same protective instinct that always defined him. “It’s not okay. I’m supposed to look out for you, not… complicate things.”

“It’s not complicated,” you said, though your voice wavered. But as you sat there, wrapped in the blanket, his hand still in yours, you felt it—a subtle shift, something unspoken that neither of you could name. You were still friends, still tethered by that unshakable bond, but the air between you felt different, heavier, like you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice steady again. “Whatever happens, I’ve got your back. Always.”

And as you leaned against him, his arm settling around you in that familiar, protective way, you knew he meant it. Whatever this was, whatever it meant, you’d face it together.

A week later, you were back at Bucky’s place, sitting on his couch, the memory of that night tucked away like a secret neither of you acknowledged. But your curiosity hadn’t faded—if anything, it had grown, the experience leaving you with more questions than answers. You fidgeted, picking at a loose thread on your jeans, your heart pounding as you gathered the courage to speak.

“Bucky,” you started, voice barely above a whisper, “could we… do it again? Another lesson, I mean.”

He froze, his coffee mug halfway to his lips, his eyes snapping to yours. “You’re serious?” His voice was laced with disbelief, his brows furrowing. “After last time? You sure about this?”

You nodded, cheeks burning, your shyness making it hard to meet his gaze. “I just… I want to learn more. I trust you, and I don’t want it to be with just anyone. Please, Buck. Can we just… keep it like it was? No strings, no changing anything between us?”

He set the mug down, running a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “Doll, this… it’s risky. We got lucky last time, but we can’t mess up like that again. And what if it does change things? You’re my best friend. I don’t want to screw that up.”

“It won’t,” you said, voice firm despite your nerves. “I promise. It’s just… learning. Like before. We’ll keep it separate, like it never happened. Deal?”

He studied you for a long moment, his protective instincts warring with your earnest plea. Finally, he sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Alright. Deal. But we’re being careful this time. No mistakes. And you say stop, we stop. Got it?”

“Got it,” you said, relief flooding you.

He stood, disappearing into his bedroom and returning with a small foil packet, holding it up with a pointed look. “No repeats of last time. We’re doing this right.”

You nodded, heart racing as you followed him to the bedroom. The air was different this time—still grounded in trust, but with a mutual understanding that this was just a lesson, nothing more. He was careful, deliberate, slipping on the condom before guiding you to the bed. This time, he suggested a new position—lying on your side, one leg draped over his hip, his hands guiding you into place.

“It’s about angles,” he said, voice low, clinical, like he was teaching you a skill. “Changes how it feels. Just relax, okay?”

You did, letting him guide you, the sensation different but just as intense. His movements were slow, controlled, his hands steady on your hips as he taught you how to move with him. The lesson was practical, focused, his demeanor that of a friend helping you learn, nothing more. When that pressure built again, you recognized it this time, and he noticed your tension.

“Just let go,” he said, his voice steady, encouraging but detached. “You’ve got this.”

You did, trembling as the wave hit, and he followed shortly after, keeping the moment brief, functional. Afterward, you both got dressed, slipped back into your usual banter—joking about his terrible coffee, arguing over what to watch next—like nothing had happened. It was your agreement: no strings, no complications, just lessons.

It became a weekly ritual, always at his place, always with the same rules. Each time, he taught you something new—a different position, a different way to move. One week, it was you on top, his hands guiding your hips as he showed you how to set the pace, his voice calm and instructional. Another, it was against the wall, his strength holding you steady as he explained the mechanics, his tone practical. Each lesson was clinical in intent, grounded in your trust, with protection always used after that first scare. Afterward, you’d both act like it never happened—back to pizza nights, bad TV, and inside jokes, your friendship unchanged, the lessons tucked away like a separate compartment.

Through it all, Bucky remained your best friend—protective, steady, never letting the lessons bleed into your bond. You laughed together, shared secrets, leaned on each other, just as you always had. The moments in his bedroom were just that—moments, sealed off from the rest of your lives.

The team gathering was loud, filled with laughter and clinking glasses, but everything seemed to mute the moment Bucky walked in with Lia. She was new to the team, her smile bright and her charm effortless, drawing eyes like a magnet. Bucky’s arm was slung casually around her shoulders, his grin easy as he introduced her to the group. “This is Lia,” he said, his voice warm, almost proud. “New recruit, and she’s already kicking ass.”

You stood near the bar, your drink forgotten in your hand, the sight of them together hitting like a punch to the gut. Lia laughed at something Bucky whispered, her hand resting lightly on his chest, and your heart twisted. You forced a smile when Bucky’s eyes met yours, giving a small nod as if everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

Later that week, you were at Bucky’s apartment, sprawled on his couch like always, expecting another lesson. The lessons had started months ago, a practical arrangement to help you navigate your inexperience with sex. Bucky had been patient, guiding you with a mix of gentle instruction and intense focus, teaching you not just about touch but about trust, about feeling safe in your own skin. Those moments had shifted something in you, blurring the line between friendship and something deeper, though you’d never dared name it.

He sat across from you now, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. The air felt heavy, wrong. He cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “We need to stop the lessons,” he said, his voice low, steady, but laced with something you couldn’t place. “I’m with Lia now. It’s… not right to keep this up.”

The words landed like a blade, sharp and sudden. You froze, your breath catching, a dull ache blooming in your chest. “Oh,” you managed, forcing your voice to stay even. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

He finally looked at you, his blue eyes unreadable, searching your face for something. “You’re still my friend. That doesn’t change.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, keeping the hurt from spilling over. “Right. Still us.”

But it wasn’t. The lessons stopped, and Bucky’s world filled with Lia—dinners, missions, quiet moments that used to be yours. You’d catch glimpses of them: Lia’s hand in his, the way he’d lean into her, his laugh softer than it ever was with you. The distance carved a quiet pain in you, one you couldn’t shake. The lessons had changed you, not just in how you understood your body, but in how you wanted to be loved—touched with care, trusted completely, the way Bucky had shown you. Now, seeing him with Lia, you felt the loss of that closeness like a missing limb, a longing you hadn’t expected.

Determined to move forward, you turned to Steve. He’d always been a steady presence, his warm smile and quiet strength a comfort. You started spending more time with him—training in the gym, grabbing coffee, talking late into the night about art, old movies, and the world before everything got so complicated.

Steve was a gentleman in every sense, his kindness unwavering, and you felt a spark of something more, a possibility of a partner. But every time you laughed with him, every time his hand brushed yours, your mind drifted to Bucky—the way his hands had felt, steady and sure, the way he’d guided you with patience, the way he’d made you feel safe.

You wanted that physical connection again, that raw intimacy, but Steve was too respectful, too proper. Asking him for something so vulnerable felt wrong, like it would fracture the gentle bond you were building. So you buried the desire, focusing on the friendship blossoming with Steve.

What you didn’t see was how it was affecting Bucky. He’d watch you and Steve in the training room, your laughter echoing as you dodged a punch, and something dark would flicker in his eyes. He’d clench his jaw when Steve’s hand lingered on your shoulder, a possessiveness he hadn’t expected simmering beneath the surface.

He told himself it was nothing, that he’d made the right choice. But the sight of you with Steve gnawed at him, a quiet storm building in his chest.

One night, after a long mission debrief, the compound’s common room was empty except for you and Bucky. The others had left, their voices fading down the hall, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.

You were gathering your things, ready to head out, when you noticed Bucky standing across the room, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. The air crackled with unspoken tension, weeks of distance piling up between you.

“You and Steve seem close,” he said, his voice low, an edge to it you didn’t recognize.

You paused, glancing at him, trying to keep it light. “He’s a good friend. Like you.”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “Like me?”

The question hit like a spark, catching you off guard. You frowned, setting your bag down. “What’s that supposed to mean, Buck?”

He flinched, but didn’t back down, his voice sharper now. “The lessons you had with a friend like me, you do it with him too?”

The words stung, igniting a mix of anger and hurt in your chest. You stood, stepping toward him, your voice rising. “What the hell, Bucky?”

He closed the distance, his eyes dark, intense, his voice dropping to a growl. “You think Steve can make you feel the way I did? The way I made you shake, the way you clung to me when you let go?”

Your breath caught, his words slicing through you, stirring memories of his hands, his voice, the way he’d unraveled you. He was close now, too close, his presence overwhelming, his scent familiar and dizzying.

“You think you’re the only one who can fuck me?”

That was all it took. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him, his touch possessive, almost desperate. “You don’t get it,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips brushing your ear. “I trained your body to respond to me. No one else can break you the way I do”

“Bucky,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. “Lia—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your jaw. “Just… don’t.”

His lips crashed into yours, urgent, hungry, like he was trying to reclaim something he’d lost. You melted into him, the months of distance dissolving in the heat of his touch.

Clothes were shed in a rush, no thought, no plan, just need. Your shirt hit the floor, his followed, and soon you were pressed against the couch, his body over yours, his hands everywhere. He tugged your pants down, his fingers deft, and you gasped as his touch found your skin, sparking heat that made your head spin.

“Bucky,” you breathed, your hands roaming his back, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin. “We shouldn’t—”

“Tell me to stop,” he growled, his lips grazing your neck, his hands gripping your hips. “Tell me, and I will.”

You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. Instead, you pulled him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned, low and rough, and when he entered you, it was raw, unprotected, a reckless breaking of every boundary you’d set.

The sensation was overwhelming, sharper without the barrier, every movement sending shocks of pleasure through you. His pace was urgent, possessive, his hips driving against yours with a rhythm that left you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly, angling deeper, and you gasped, your body arching against him.

“God,” he muttered, his voice rough against your ear, his breath hot. “You feel so good. So damn perfect.”

You clung to him, your body trembling as the pressure built, every thrust pulling you closer to the edge. His hands roamed, one sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over sensitive skin, the other gripping your thigh, holding you open for him. “Tell me,” he growled, his voice low, almost desperate. “Does Steve do this to you? Does he make you feel this?”

“No,” you gasped, your head thrown back, your body shaking as the pleasure coiled tighter. “Only you. Only you, Bucky.”

His name on your lips seemed to snap something in him. His pace quickened, his movements rougher, more intense, like he was claiming you, marking you. The couch creaked beneath you, the room filled with the sounds of your gasps, his low groans, the raw urgency of it all.

Your hands found his hair, tugging him closer, needing him, needing this. The pressure built, overwhelming, and when it hit, it was like a tidal wave, your body arching, a cry escaping as you let go, trembling beneath him. He followed moments later, a low groan rumbling through him as he stilled, his body tense, the weight of the moment crashing over you both.

For a heartbeat, you stayed there, tangled, breathless, your heart pounding against his. His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still gripping you like he couldn’t let go. But then reality seeped in, cold and sharp. He pulled back, his expression closing off, his eyes shadowed.

“This was a mistake,” he said, his voice hollow, barely above a whisper. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Lia, you… it’s not fair.”

“Bucky, wait—” you started, reaching for him, your voice breaking, but he was already standing, pulling on his clothes with quick, jerky movements, his back to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking at you, his voice tight.

You sat up, pulling a blanket over yourself, the ache in your chest sharper now, a mix of longing and regret. “Bucky, please, just talk to me.”

He paused at the door, his hand on the frame, his shoulders tense. “I can’t,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Not now.”

And then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him, leaving you alone on the couch, the weight of what just happened settling like a stone in your chest.

[sourkiki]

BEHIND THE SEAMS. (TEASER)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a regular celebration at the club, a celebration that you had gotten your dream job. What you didn't expect was to end up sleeping with an attractive stranger, who turns out to be your boss in your new job.

CONTENT: porn with plot, office romance, CEO! riki x employee! fem reader, attempt at comedy, slight enemies to lovers, one night stand to lovers, unprotected sex, pussy eating, face sitting, blindfolding, sex tapes, blowjobs and more to be added.

WORD COUNT: TBA (currently at 8k).

NOTE: hihi, i decided to make a short teaser for this fic that i've been working on for a while now. i'm too lazy to do events so i decided to write a long fic to show my thanks for all the love and support for this blog so far hehe. comment on this post or send an ask off-anon to be added when the full fic is published. please have your age somewhere or i won't add you. shoutout to my lovely wifey @jun2ki for helping me make the header hehe

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

You looked over your shoulder, only for your breath to hitch when you laid your eyes on the most jaw-dropping and attractive man you’ve seen in your entire life. His hair was dyed in a blinding shade of blonde, making him stand out from the dim, colorful lights of the club. He was dressed in a simple, plain outfit of a white, long sleeves with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing fairly toned arms that made you unconsciously squeeze your legs together. 

“Not anymore, you can sit,” you flashed in what you hoped was a warm smile, allowing him to sit beside you.

He nodded, occupying the seat on your right and his clothed knee brushed against your bare knee, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. You watched as he waved down the bartender, raising his hands to show the number sign: ‘two’ and before you could stop him, a shot glass appeared before you. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you said, attempting to push it towards him but he stopped you by grabbing your hand. You were able to feel him tracing your knuckles with his fingers, making you wonder how it’ll feel against your bare skin. 

“I want to. It’s not every time I get to sit beside someone this gorgeous,” he sends you a boyish and cheeky smirk. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

He smirked. “Like what?” 

“...Like you want to kiss me,” you replied, not sure where you got the sudden courage from but you had picked the right response, considering how he leans in until your lips grazes against one another, until he is in your personal space and until you’re breathing in one another’s air. 

“And if I want to? Would you let me kiss you?” He murmured, voice dropping an octave lower. 

“Are you sure you only want a kiss? Would you be satisfied with that?” You chuckled. 

“Would you hit me if I say no? I wanna bend you over this counter and fuck you in front of everyone. Eat you out until you’re begging me to stop. Maybe make you sit on my face too,” he continued, words slipping from his mouth, smooth like butter. 

~ 

“I’m so sorry I’m late! This won’t happen again.” 

Riki froze when a painstakingly familiar voice pierced the silence. He went as still as a statue—hand hovering over the handle of the door leading to his office with his back facing the source of the voice. Jungwon, on the other hand, didn’t notice his sudden change of behavior as the footsteps got closer and closer. 

“You must be (Name), welcome,” his assistant greeted in his signature warm, friendly voice. 

“Ah, thank you. I’m really sorry I was late. My alarm didn’t ring even though I swore I had set it yesterday night,” the voice replied, flustered. 

Jungwon chuckled and Riki could already imagine him shaking his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

What he said next made Riki contemplate jumping out of the window. 

“Oh, let me introduce you to the boss: Nishimura Ni-Ki.” 

This leaves him no choice but to fully turn around, revealing himself and he had to resist the urge to smirk at how your eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He saw the way both horror and recognition hit you in the form of you nearly dropping your bag.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, (Name). I’m looking forward to seeing how you’ll perform here,” he said, forcing himself to smile and he could only pray that it looks natural. 

Thankfully, you went with the flow, accepting his handshake and flashed him a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Nishimura. I hope I can meet your expectations.” 

tag list: @swiftcityy, @jun2ki, @yenienha, @katseye4mimi, @invsomnixa1,

[alotofpockets]

Don't touch my playlist | Lucy Bronze x Lioness!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "That's what friends are for, right?" - "Right, because you're definitely not more than friends."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

“What are you doing?” You ask Beth as you come back from the shower and see her looking through the clothes you had laid down on your bed. “Haven't we shared rooms for enough years for you to know that I don't like people touching my things?”

Beth looks up with a guilty look on her face. “Sorry, I know you don't. I'm in a bit of a crisis, I can't find my shorts. So, I was checking to see if maybe they put them with yours.”

“Did they?” You ask, letting it slide this time. “Nope.” Beth says as she goes over the room again. After getting dressed, you tell her to sit tight. 

You head down to the kit room to ask for an extra pair of shorts for Beth. “Don't touch my stuff again, please.” You say as you get back and throw her the shorts, before closing the door again and heading down for breakfast.

At breakfast you sat down with Leah, both enjoying your breakfast over some light conversation when Beth scoots in next to you. “Couldn’t even wait for me?” She says with fake disappointment. You shrug your shoulders, and say, “You take too long.” you say with a smile, mocking her just slightly.

Beth laughs and reaches for one of the strawberries on your plate, but you’re quick to swat her hand away. “Get your own.” Leah chuckles at the scene in front of her, “You never learn, do you?” She says to Beth, who reluctantly gets up to get her own breakfast.

When Beth gets back to your table, Lucy had just sat her plate down next to yours. “Oh, you got some strawberries! They’re gone now.” Lucy says as she picks up one and pops it into her mouth, “Mmm delicious!”

Beth rolls her eyes playfully, “I had to get my own plate, but Lucy can just take whatever she wants.” Lucy smirks at the realisation that she was allowed something that Beth wasn’t, but you just say, "That's what friends are for, right?"

Under her breath Beth replies with, "Right, because you're definitely not more than friends." But only loud enough for Leah to hear, while you and Lucy are already in conversation about something else. Completely in your own world, not even remotely aware of Leah and Beth giggling over the more than friends comment.

Since you were the first one to arrive at the gym, you plugged your phone into the speaker and started your own playlist, ‘She’s a runner, she’s a track star’, a workout playlist you carefully curated for this football season.

The music starts playing, and you start on some stretching, while more of your teammates enter the gym. While your music was carefully curated for you, the songs on your playlist were definitely enjoyed by most of your teammates.

Leah nudges Beth mid-spin session, and points out the water bottle Lucy is using, your name clearly visible on the label. “Lucy can really get away with everything, and she won’t budge. It’s like they’re married or something.” Beth jokes, causing Leah and a few of the other girls to laugh. Lucy doesn’t even realise they are laughing about her, and simply puts your water bottle back in its rightful place.

When you were done with your weight lifting sets, you make your way over to the bikes as well, and join Beth and Leah. After a bit of pedalling, Aggie steps up to the front of your bike. “Do you mind if I add a song to your playlist?”

Aggie was one of the newer players and most likely didn’t know how particular you were with your things. So, you say a simple, “Oh, ehm, I’d rather you not.” You could read on her face that she wasn’t expecting your answer, so Leah quickly jumps in with an explanation. “Don’t worry, it’s not you. She doesn’t let anyone near her stuff, especially not her playlists.”

The young striker nods in understanding. As she is about to turn around, the music changes mid-song. She turns fully to see who changed the music, since she just learned that no one was allowed to touch your playlists, and sees Lucy with your phone in her hands.

“Well, besides Lucy. Lucy can do whatever she wants, because y/n is like totally in love with her.” Beth says as a follow up to Leah’s explanation. Your cheeks turn a bright red, as you tell Beth to shut up.

Lucy starts walking your way, “Did I hear my name?” You quickly send Beth a warning look before smiling at Lucy, “Just that you were changing the music, that’s all.”

“Oh, you don’t mind, do you?” Lucy says acting like she doesn’t know exactly what she did, and how you wouldn’t let anyone else do the same. You smile back at her, “Not at all. You picked a good song, so it’s all good.” The defender smiles back at you, “Awesome, thanks!” Before walking off again to do her next set.

“Lucy could’ve put on like polka music or screamo and you’d still say thank you.” Beth chuckles naming two genres she knows you are not a fan of. “I would not!” You say in defence, but Leah takes Beth’s side. “You totally would, you’ve got it bad.”

You turn to Aggie, hoping for someone on your side, but she just raises her hands, “Looks to me like you’re kinda into her.” With a shake of your head you turn the resistance on your bike up. “We’re just friends. She steals my food, my water, my-”

“Your heart.” Beth finishes for you with a big smirk on her face. You sigh, knowing that you can’t win this one, so moving on was your best bet to stop them from continuing to tease you about it. Which luckily worked, and you were able to finish the rest of your training in peace.

While you had been the first to enter the gym, you also seemed to be the last one in it. Or so you thought. When your last teammate left, Lucy walked back in. “Hey Luce, forgot something?” You ask, already looking around the room for what she might have forgotten.

“Well, sort of.” She said as she took a final look into the hallway before closing the door behind her. Her smile grew as she stepped closer and closer to you until she was right in front of you. “I forgot to kiss my beautiful girlfriend.” She pecks your lips softly. “My girlfriend who is very adorable when she starts blushing when getting teased about having a crush on me.”

You groan in frustration, “You heard and saw all that?” Lucy nodded while her smirk grew. “You’re totally in love with me, and everyone can see. Good thing I can hide my emotions a little better, or else everyone would find out we’ve been dating for over a year already.” She closes the distance again and kisses you again.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also support me by leaving a tip 💗

[sereia4skz]

Feminized minho 😋

drabble | minho's skirt

pairing: sub!minho x reader

genre: smut

warnings: feminization, handjob, grinding, panties, praise, soft!dom, light degradation, 

word count: ~900

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

He’s still in the outfit. That’s the first thing you notice when you unlock your hotel room and find him already inside, curled up awkwardly on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone like he’s trying to disappear into it.

“Hey,” you say softly, and Minho startles, eyes wide as they meet yours.

You look him over, really look. The same silky white blouse with puffed sleeves and pearl buttons that had everyone melting on set, tucked into a tight pastel pink pleated skirt, stockings still on. Heels kicked off somewhere near the door. His lips are tinted a subtle cherry red, and you can still see the light shimmer of glitter dusted over his cheekbones from hair and makeup.

“Didn’t change yet?” you murmur.

Minho’s face floods with color. “I-I was just resting. I was gonna…”

You shut the door behind you and lean against it, smiling lazily. “You wore the panties too, didn’t you?”

He chokes. “I-it was for the concept! It was funny-”

“Pink?” you ask. “Lacy?”

His silence gives him away. You cross the room slowly, and his eyes drop to the floor. He looks so fucking pretty like this, legs squeezed together, shirt slightly wrinkled from where he’d been curled up, a soft mess of brown hair around his face. He's always so pretty but like this… So far from the sharp, teasing Minho the public knows. So much more real.

You sit on the bed next to him. “Everyone said you looked cute.”

He groans into his hands. “They kept calling me noona. And ‘unnie’ in the comments. And Jisung told me I had to ‘get used to it’ because I was ‘slaying too hard.’”

You hum. “He wasn’t wrong.”

He peeks out from behind his fingers, pouty. “You were worse. You didn’t stop calling me baby girl the entire day.”

You just smile. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”

He lets out a soft noise, frustrated, embarrassed, but not denying it.

You lean in, close enough to speak against his ear. “What’s wrong, Minho? You like the attention when it’s just me, don’t you?”

His breath catches.

You shift, one hand sliding gently up the bare skin of his thigh where the skirt has ridden up. “You like being my good girl. Wearing pretty little things. Letting me touch you like this.”

He nods slowly, cheeks burning.

Your fingers slip under the skirt, and there it is. Soft, delicate lace, barely containing the bulge already straining against it. Pale pink, just like you’d imagined.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You tug the waistband gently. “You’ve been like this all night?”

Minho bites his lip. “Since the shoot ended. Since you kept looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I was… yours. Like you wanted to do this to me.”

You hum, pleased. “I always want to do this to you.”

You push him back onto the mattress, slow and deliberate, crawling over him until you’re straddling his waist. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your hips, but you press them down to the bed, firm.

“Ah-ah,” you tease. “Pretty girls don’t get to make the rules. Just lay there for me…”

Minho whines. “Please.”

You grind down lightly, letting your hips move in slow, shallow rolls. The pressure makes him gasp, your clothed core against the damp front of his panties. You can feel just how hard he is now, twitching under the lace.

“You’re soaked,” you whisper. “Just from being dressed up for me?”

He moans, eyes fluttering shut. “You kept calling me pretty. I couldn’t stop thinking about-about you bending me over in this stupid skirt-”

“Mmm, I could,” you murmur, grinding down a little harder. “Skirt up. Panties pulled to the side. You’d be dripping before I even touched you.”

His hips buck desperately. “Please touch me. Please-”

You finally give in, sliding a hand between you to cup him through the panties. The fabric is wet to the touch, clinging to his cock. You stroke him slowly, savoring every twitch, every helpless noise.

He’s squirming now, thighs spread wide beneath you, panting like he’s going to lose his mind. You rub your thumb in soft circles over the leaking tip through the fabric and watch his whole body tense.

“Gonna cum in your panties like a needy little thing?” you whisper, voice saccharine. “You want that, baby girl?”

Minho sobs, “Yes- please, please, I wanna-”

You keep stroking him, slow and controlled, until his thighs tremble and his back arches off the bed. He cums hard, gasping your name, soaking the lace as his hips jerk beneath you.

You don’t stop right away, just a few more teasing strokes, enough to make him shiver. His whimpering turns to soft whines, too sensitive, too full. You finally ease off, brushing his hair back from his flushed face.

“You did so well for me,” you murmur, kissing his temple. “Such a pretty girl. My perfect little doll.”

He clings to you as he comes down, heart still racing under your palm. You gently help him out of the ruined panties, wiping him down with a warm towel from the bathroom, pressing soft kisses to his thighs as he blushes and hides behind his hands.

You pull one of his hoodies over his head, dwarfing him instantly, the hem almost hiding his bare thighs completely. He looks impossibly soft now, cradled in your arms.

“Feel better?” you ask.

He nods sleepily. “I like when you call me that.”

“What? Pretty?”

“…Yeah. That.”

You smile and kiss the top of his head.

“Then you’d better keep that skirt around. I have a lot more ideas.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

taglist pt2: @zayn-210 @wolfhallows4 @katsukis1wife @sammhisphere @bangchanspineapple

[yawnzshit]

PRI'S FIC RECS : ENHYPEN EDITION (HEESEUNG VER.)

[ ♡ ] : personal favourites.

[ !! ] : nsfw ( minors dni pls )

🎙️hi. so basically doing this new thing of fic recs, because i've read sooo many over the years. most if not all are long fics here! but yeah lmk if you want of more members :) or any other fandoms (svt, bts, harry potter, marvel etc)!

✮⋆˙ LEE HEESEUNG.

one hundred and one by @heesdreamer [ 19k ] !!

synopsis : returning back home from a failed year at college, you’re reunited with your little brothers best friend who always had a crush on you. this definitely hasn’t changed, but he sure has.

notes : brother's bff! heeseung ; younger!heeseung ; college (ish) au ; gahh this made me go even more insane for heeseung than i alr am ( jake look awayy!!)

echoes of riots by @/heesdreamer [ 19.1k ]

synopsis : falling inl ove with a rockstar is never easy, especially when he returns to your hometown on a successful tour three years after you lost contact.

notes : rockstar!au ; actually wrecked me like this is teww good.

player rank platinum by @simpjaes [ 30k ] !!

synopsis : You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

notes : gamer!heeseung ; read warnings ; wheww this was something alr ( in the best way possible i love ur fics omfg )

win one win me by @jaylver [ 14k ]

synopsis : who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

notes : icehockeyplayer!heeseung ; strangers2lovers ; college au ; super adorable give me jock heeseung now pls!!!

home for the bitchless by @hannie-dul-set [ series ]

synopsis : wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

notes : multiple members! ; heeseung is kind of a loser ; i think i lost my lungs reading these, probably going to re-read to fill the void in my heart :)

belladona by @boyfhee [ 5k ] [ ♡ ]

synopsis : sometimes, love is not about the sacrifices you make, but about the selfishness you hide.

notes : thriller!au ; read this soo long ago yet was able to recall the author and putting it here :)

HOW TO GET BACK WITH YOUR EX : five do's and don'ts by @/boyfhees [ 26.2k]

synopsis : you were all in for a new start; a new city, new apartment, new department and new colleagues— though, not under the best circumstances— you tried to make it through your early thirties while lost between whether to give up or go on, and then you meet Heeseung, who happens to be on the other end of the same street.

notes : exes!au ; very slice of life but pretty realistic if that makes sense ? i felt as if i had actually experienced this :o

always been you by @jaeyunverse [ 16k ]

synopsis : heeseung was the kind of teenager everyone’s parents warned them to stay away from. he was the poster boy for the term bad influence, caring about no one except his closest friends—especially you.

notes : badboy!heeseung ; childhood!bffs to lovers ; very cute read, still think about this fic at random times <3

won't let you go ( this time ) by @zreamy [ 36k ] !!

synopsis : back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

notes : exes!au ; slow burn ; ohh zreamy is one of my faves on enhablr so y'all know this shit about to eat!!!!

triage by @maiverie [ series ]

synopsis : heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, “hi. will you please teach me how to date?”

notes : nerd(adorable)heeseung x popular!reader ; this series owns my whole heart.

open sesame by @/maiverie [ series ]

synopsis : you are uncontrollably, helplessly, and tragically in love with your roommate, heeseung. one night, desperate to learn more about him, you sneak inside his room and discover the reason why he always seems to keep his door closed. and then you realise that some doors, no matter how tempting, are better left unopened.

notes : roommates!au ; reader gives thirdhand embarrasment in one scene but we ball because this series is devouring.

waiting room by @heejamas [ 21k ] !!

synopsis : for three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something more—stolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with.

notes : friendstolovers!au ; very cute most recent read :)

the space between by @fairyofhee [ 16.3k ] !!

synopsis : It was a mutual agreement between you and the boy with high status and reputation to say that the kiss you both shared was a mistake and meant absolutely nothing. But while trying to win over your crush, you were distracted by that mistaken kiss from the boy who's won over your heart.

notes : rich!basketball player!heeseung x flower shop worker!reader, cutesy very YA series vibes <3

the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung by @jayflrt

synopsis : by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?

notes : harrypotter au! slytherin heeseung x hufflepuff reader ; i love love love hp aus with slytherins like yess goo slytherin! also anything by user jayflrt is the BEST.

doe eyes by @thatgorlnatalia [ 9k ]

synopsis : telling the truth is scary, but it’s even scarier when nobody can lie to the boy you like | you steal glances at him like everyone else, but what if you knew he looks back?

notes : highschool au! ; very sweet old fic i found and had read way long ago, just wanted to add it here because it deserves to be read <3

MY DEAR ANNOYING SEATMATE by @svnoohe4rts [ 17.1k ] !!

synopsis : there was only a few things you hated in life, but your dear seatmate lee heeseung was most definitely one of the few things you absolutely despised. with the two of you being paired up for an upcoming project, it seemed like life possibly couldn’t get any worse; so why did he suddenly almost look cute?

notes : nerdhee! ; i loved thisss smm i remember reading it, probs gonna re-read hehehe

[sirxlla]

Pretty please hcs about them coming home to you touching yourself

They Come Home To You Touching Yourself

🔥 SPICY 🔥

-------------------------------------------------

Dick: He walks in quietly after hearing the moaning and after what he sees? Well, the blush that fills his face could beat the brightness of neon pink. He tries to stop it, but a smile fills his face. He doesn't want to embarrass you so he quietly closes the door before backing up to the front door and shouting. "Honey, I'm home."

"Get your ass in here, Richard. I know you came in here!"

Jason: Lord is he proud, his ego just went through every story of the building and out the roof. He knows that you love him, but knowing that you're thinking about him when he's gone fills him up with a sense of pride. At this moment, he wants nothing more than to show you it's exactly how much pride bout you seems to be taking care of it well enough on your own. He lets you finish before accidentally scaring the shit out of you with a few words as he kneels on the bed, "Good girl, Angel. Almost as good as me."

Bruce: Bruce knows he can't always be around when you get the need to fulfill your urges, and this isn't the first time he's walked in on you pleasuring yourself, but this is the first time he's dropped everything to join you.

"It's been too long, My Love," Bruce says before getting down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His popping in and out unexpectedly didn't scare you anymore, but you are pleasantly surprised to see him so willingly get onto his knees considering most nights he'd plop down in bed and be snoring before you even got a word in.

Tim: "Sweetheart, look what I got at the store! They had so many lego sets on sale and these ones have lights!" He said so excitedly as he entered your loft apartment.

Tim nearly dropped just about all the bags in his hands as he saw you across the loft. "Where are your clothes? Wh- Wh- What's going on?" His face was scarlet red.

"Is- Is this what you do when I'm not home?"

"Tend to me then we can build a lego set. Whatever one you want..." You smiled and bit your lip, speaking to him from where you lay in the bed. As the word his his ears, he dropped the yellow bags, very promptly scrambled into bed with you, kicking his shoes off.

Damian: "Now, I know you aren't doing what it is so very clear you are doing, Beloved." Damian came in with a smirk as he heard you moaning. He had taken a mission from the League that caused him to be gone for a few weeks, and his return date changed a multitude of times.

"At least I know you missed me." He grabbed you by your ankle and dragged you to the end of the bed. "I hope you saved some for me." He kissed up your thighs and moved your hands and any other devices you had used away from you before burying his face between your thighs.

-> Masterlist

-> Send me requests/prompts if you'd like

[mac-ann-cheese]

Rusameamerusharumachispacegays-- okay, I'll stop ( ˙꒳​˙ )

Cold War era-centered sketches with some headcanons below the cut. The post with many words. You don't have to read all of my yapping, I just had those hcs written down in my notes for like fuckknows how long (-_-;)

I think there are already plenty of beautifully written interpretations; however, I still want to give my own opinion on that. Additionally, it is important to note that everything below is silly and whimsical; please do not take it all too seriously (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)

After WWII, both went absolutely batshit crazy, however in diff.. styles, I guess, so yeah yum yum. The war literally affected and changed the way they viewed peace as a state of life.

They both believed too deeply in their vision of an ideal world. Therefore, cutting the globe in half (almost, I should say - a buffer zone in the form of the Non-Aligned Movement squeezed in between), the regions, the countries, and turning everything into a "better" version was the only solution to regulate their loud and clunky clash of ideologies.

One more side note: I need to say that I tolerate the interpretation that both of these blorbos could not actually control the escalation of, basically, everything, and it was the government, yadayadayada. However, it takes away the drama...... The spiceeee..... the friends to lovers to enemies to lovers to enemies to ..... I mean, whatever tickles your pickle, I don't shit on others hcs. I am just clearing this up, and I need to provide an explanation for everything, as I am neurodivergent and do not want to be misunderstood.

Now, back to the scheduled programming!

Before the CMC in 1962, Al and Ivan didn't fully recognize the consequences of their actions. The world was their playground, the balance of power — the swingset for only going up. The rest were left to sit on a powder keg and wait for it to explode. After the crisis (or more so, the reality check), some rudiments of awareness began to grow. It was the first time of being in centimeters (inches, if you prefer) close from falling into the pit of doom. Everything they do has so much influence that it will not pass without a trace, and it is necessary to somehow solve this and negotiate: set the boundaries of what is permitted, bargain on terms, and still try to somehow take the invisible first place in influence over the world.

Regarding the questionable rationale behind creating nuclear weapons:

If Alfred had the bomb, nobody would even dare to start any new war. He would become the new guarantor of peace, but it turned against him. Security based on something so destructive as nuclear weaponry becomes senseless, it only makes others worry to find their way on creating or obtaining the made-up security. A difficult dilemma, a no-win scenario, only leads to a weakening of the existing peace. You can never create security based on someone else's insecurity.

Aaaand this is what actually happened.

Welp (¯ . ¯;)

Alfred (until I guess the 1963s? Until the regulation of nuclear weapon processes and disarmament, that's for sure. The creation of the IAEA put him at ease, but only for a short period of time after) began to experience severe paranoia. I think that nations don't feel the passage of time like humans do; they get used to not noticing how the years flow by. However, at that time, every minute of thinking and guessing Alfred fully experienced.

A short and quick excursion into political science 101 to understand the context! Power, in a fairly broad sense, is a way of influencing people (its scope of concepts may include manipulation, influence, persuasion, force, etc.). Basically, there are two types of power: over and to. But why do we need power? For decision-making. The future is always uncertain and full of risks, and its forecasting is based on past experiences and is still not ideal. Therefore, people relieve themselves of responsibility for the future and transfer it to those who will make decisions for them. for those who have the power. Perhaps a fair question will arise about pluralism and democracy (polyarchy), but in these cases, power is present among several collective groups, and their decisions affect different areas of problems, where conflicts of interest may arise.

Decision making = responsibility = power = some control over the future.

Ahem.

So, Alfred doesn't know what to expect, he can't prevent something from happening. The only thing he could do was to react, and that drove him up the wall. He is powerless and is grasping at straws. Espionage was the optimal solution and the best way to anticipate the actions of the opposing side. He would call Ivan at night (for his time zone) to check, he didn't even need him to say something. Hearing Ivan breathe through the phone meant that he was not planning something against him as he found time to answer at an awful late hour. However, neither of them wanted to end everything with the threats they made to each other. It would have been pointless because no one would have had to prove anything. They were racing each other to prove who was cooler in the simplest sense. Simply dropping a nuke meant too many unforeseen risks for them to cover the losses. So Alfred and Ivan raised the stakes until they could calculate that the losses on both sides would be the same or terrific for both of them, and thus no one would "win", in other words, they preferred the potential threat of mutually assured destruction than the actual action (for further details on this topic I highly recommend checking out Thomas Schelling's "The strategy of conflict").

However, they have physically dispatched each other millions of times in the most sophisticated ways, cause woah magical personification's regeneration.

Ok, folks, the next bit is freaky, achtung!!!!

As Amy Allen notes on Foucault's conception of power, it operates in and through the practice of confession both to subject individuals to the injunction to tell the truth about their sexuality and to enable them to take up the position of sexual subject (Amy Allen, The Power of Feminist Theory: Domination, Resistance, Solidarity, 1999, p. 36). The point is that without possessing power on a planetary scale, they wanted to have power over each other in the most human (or even animalistic) form. To fuck, or not to be fucked, that is the question.... The feeling of having influence over someone else's body could have restored inner self-confidence (which was not there at that time). Ehh, I actually recommend for those who are interested in that just read Michel Foucault's work, for example, the history of sexuality. But they never got to the point of actual action, so to speak; everything slid into violence.

I don't think there was a dramatic breakup. It was unnecessary at that time. They have lost connection with each other in the whirlpool of events. No "ex" stage, their relationship froze in time, waiting for the spring (omg, she did the thing).

When there is no love, the search for power and control fills the vacuum.

This is precisely where the problem lies: they both blame each other for giving up on their relationship. Too stubborn to work it out.

Honestly, yes, they would reminisce about the time spent together on very quiet and lonely evenings. Perhaps with a hint of nostalgia. Only for them uncontrollably hate themselves for feeling weak.

And suddenly, the world's most annoying superpowers sort of calmed down in the 80s. The historical context and reasoning can be found in textbooks. But perhaps Alfred's mania phase went into remission, and perhaps Ivan felt that everything was going to end (for him). Perhaps both saw the change or at least let the thought that they might change, if not for the better, just change somehow.

[nuin-giliath]

Mairon received the kiss like he would a blessing, with reverence and gratitude filling his heart and it eased a little of his worries but not completely. Most of all he was glad this was over and before he even thought what would come next, rest was sorely needed.

Once they were back home, the change was almost palpable. He felt safest here than anywhere else and remembered this feeling as if all the pieces fell back into place and sat on the couch, sighing with relief.

But his relief was short lived as it was severed from the root when he saw Namo kneeling in front of him and sat a little straighter in his seat. "M-my Lord, Namo, please..." and he blushed to the tips of his ears at seeing someone, anyone, especially a Vala, knelt in front of him. He fought against wanting to slide on the floor and sat with the feeling, waiting, as if he was expecting for some doom to befall upon them but when that didn't happen, and the sky did not fell, the birds were still singing and the evening sun still lit the room with the golden hue, only then did Mairon breathe.

"You don't need to kneel in front of me," he whispered, flushed and flustered, but really did take the question into consideration and as hard as it was to ask, he did what he could.

"Can we have dinner together? Please... And perhaps some wine outside, as the sun sets. I-if you want to, of course." Mairon added quickly, unaccustomed to ask for things from the one he always thought he was the one that should be serving.

Namo could not do anything at all. He was no judge in that predicament, and as much as he wished to help, he had his hands tied. He felt bitter, in a sense.

He felt Melkor's rage, Mairon's pain, and his own emotions, all tied up in a garbled mess that was way too much to even start untangling. He held Mairon's hands in his own, his worried look asking a million questions. "That is fine for me, my darling."

And Namo pressed his lips against Mairon's, gently, softly, as if to soothe away all worries. "Perhaps we can talk a bit once we are home? It pains me to see you in distress."

That said, he guided him away from the High Court and back home, in the safety of his Realm, where no one could make anyone suffer. As they stepped back into their home, spotless, tidied, exactly as Namo had instructed, he offered Mairon to sit wherever he felt more comfortable. And he then knelt in front of him. "Mairon, my darling heart, what can I do for you?"

[jupiterpiss]

Hi it's nivi anon again,,, i just read y9ur response and it got me thinking... you had me toned the blood dripping into his mouth and it got me thinking about how he can't come inside places uninvited SO THAT MADE ME THINK OF

him begging and pleading to penetrate you because he can't come inside without permission..... same thing going for actually coming inside of you..

Now imagine, you just sucked off the devil, his cock desperate for release but readers like naaaahhhhhhh this' payback or whtvr or jdut cus they wanna see him all fucked out cus it's such a pretty sight to see. Legs trembling, twitching cock bare out for all to see. Chest heaving, senses tingled. Aling with his bloodlust, he really really just wants to feed on and thrust into you but he's being good so that way he's able to cum inside reader's warm spongey walls. To be truly close. (What's closeness if you aren't inside the one you love, yk???????? ) but anyways, hes already ready to go even if his cocks gonna hate him for the amount of "exercise" it's gettin. So he starts to tug at reader's hair, hands shaky, begging fir her to slow down before he bursts. Reader, with their sparky ass dome attitude, pulls away, playing a bit, claiming they don't want to ride him like they said they wanted to about an hour ago. He pleads and begs , promiding he'll be good and he'll try his best to hold out.

"Love ple-please..." His fingers tug onto your slip on, caressing and tracing little doodles into your skin. Slowly trailing up to your inner thighs. Gripping your plush thighs. Looking up at you with that pout, and big bright puppy dog eyes. Yk that look he gave to stack n everyone inside the juke joint when bo was standing next to him. Yea. Basically that face, staring up at you, whining, desperately craving that warm goodness around his thickness.

"Please let me please..." he grabs you, propping you onto of him, setting you to straddle over him. Holding onto your hips, guiding your slit to glide along his shaft. Whining and groaning about how good you feel. He wants that cookie man. Give him dat cookie.

Im too horny for this neck chomper. He shoudl be glad he ain't a real person or else I'd be slurping that shit up and down forever just to hear him calling out my name 😩

-nivi anon

AHHH AHHHH AHHH nivi your fucking mind I’m gonna take it to study, beware. LMAOO no but really HELLO AHHH. Omg??? OMG??? Everyone praise Nivi and say FUCKING THANK YOU IN THE COMMENTS. I added a few other ideas but babe you took the fucking cake, so these are the crumbs.

He absolutely goes fucking crazy when you start to mess around, like absolutely feral. Breaks down and everything, so confused on why THE FUCK you changed your mind about riding him even tho you were begging to seconds earlier. Like bitch fr now that I’m hot and bothered, you don’t want this??

But it’s pay back for all the times he’s done it to you too, all the times he teased you to the point of tears while laughing all giddy. But you hold all the cards now, cause a motherfucker is not getting ANYWHERE without an explicit “okay” or “yes, come in” which is like.. he is final boss of asking for consent.

What do you guys think happens when he goes in somewhere without permission? Cause in my mind he gets burned, sorta like what the sun does, and so that really forces him out. Sooooo when you keep messing with his dick, tapping it against your entrance and lightly sticking it in, just a litttttttle bit, he gets burned. And that sucks. So you keep rubbing back and forth, making sure he doesn’t actually fully slip in cause his shit will get FUCKED UP. Like burned to singe and that really gets him going cause there’s the added risk of his dick being cooked off. So both of you kinda have to be careful but also his teeth are chattering for how excited he is.

This is exciting!! But you don’t let him in LMAOO won’t allow him to even tho he keeps asking.

“Can I?”

You shake your head. Give a few shallow glides against his shaft before he’s asking again, “Now?”

“No.”

He whines, “fuckin when then?”

You shrug.

I also think that even with you having control on whether his dick remains mangled free or not, he would still act like he has the upper hand. Like sureee okay he can’t really fuck you BUT he can still talk back to you

“Don’t fuckin shrug at me.”

“I’m showing you that I don’t know when,” you chirp back. Despite the conversation at hand, your gaze remains down to where you lightly coat him with your slick.

He smacks your thigh, “look at me, look at what you’re doing, being all rude.”

You stop. And stare. Do exactly what he said to do, cause if he really wants to go around hitting you to get his orders heard, then fine. Here.

He whines, “don’t stop- why’d you stop-“

“Said to look at you.”

LMAOO actually taking what he said fr just to further fuck with him.

He asks to come inside again and ur like “you did tho?? In my mouth remember??” And he’s pissed. He actually hates it when he asks to fuck you, to let his dick in and ur like “yeah I let in a dick already,” and point at him.

I don’t think he would find any of that funny.

[riemanifests]

You always have two choices.

inspired by a video Nero Knowledge made. so many of you when faced with an unfavorable circumstance, think it's the end. that's it it's over now. this circumstance is my story now and it's here to stay, i can't get what i want anymore. ignorance. every single time something happens in your 3d, whether favorable or not, you have two choices in how you respond to it. Choice 1: Accept it you can choose to accept it, allow it into your life, and let it stay in your reality. you take it as a part of your story now. Choice 2: Flip it you can choose to deny it, get rid of it, and flip it to a desirable event. you change the story and decide that the old circumstance will not stay. some of you will choose choice one and then complain because you'd rather have the outcome of choosing choice two. well babes, all you have to do is make choice two!

Examples:

say your sp tells you that they want to break up choice one would be to accept it and move on from your sp choice two would be to deny it and manifest your sp wanting you say you're applying for a job and all of the sudden the role is filled. choice one would be to accept it and find another job choice two would be to deny it and manifest getting the role anyways say you suddenly lost $500 dollars and you need to pay the bills choice one would be to accept it and scramble to find the money choice two would be to deny it and manifest the money back you may think that the moment you experience a circumstance, the choice was already made for you, but it was not. you need to understand that there is no set story for you and especially not by the 3d, shit just happens to you and then you decide whether or not to keep it. you can edit reality at any time, and that means adding things into your life as well as removing things from your life. why do you believe that you can manifest things into your life but that you can't manifest things out of your life? every single reality exists right now including one where you have your favorable circumstances. so you can either keep limiting yourself and thinking you can't manifest the shit you want, or wake tf up and realize the power you hold.

How you can start making choice two:

whenever something happens that you don't like, think to yourself: - do i want to accept this? am i okay with this being in my life? if not, then ask yourself this: - what would i rather have happen instead? what do i want instead? now your job is to let the old story go. let it fucking go, do not speak of it do not stress over it and do not think about it, just let it go because that is the old story and that is no longer your reality anymore. you are editing the story so there's no need to worry about what it was like before since it's already changed now. what you want to do is decide that what you want to happen instead has happened, and it happened already. do not go looking at the 3d then crying bc it "looks the same", no be stubborn and get a grip, command that your story has changed and be faithful to it. again keep thinking that what you want to happen has happened now and that's it. that's literally all you have to do, so do it. reality must rearrange itself to match the changes you have decided for it. so every time you're met with an unfavorable circumstance, don't go straight into victim mode crying about how "omg the 3d showed me this it has power over me this is my life now blah blah bla-" no shut the fuck up and think about the choice you want to make, and then make it. also please know that it's okay to accept shit in the 3d even if you know u can change it, like if you're fine with that circumstance in your life then by all means keep it. but if not? then don't complain instead do yourself a favor and just flip it. you're also able to switch choices, so let's say you decide to accept a situation but now you want to change it you're still capable of that. nothing is definite and you need to realize that.

[bearkibble]

All Eyes On You — Satoru Gojo

Content Warning: MDNI (18+) — Voyeurism | Teasing | Degradation | Praise | Orgasm Control | Edging | Overstimulation | Aftercare

Satoru Gojo x GN!Reader - use of femme anatomical terms

Gojo in his 2016 era ;)

⸻

“Again.”

Gojo’s voice cut through the low hum of the room like a whip—sweet, soft, too calm for the way your thighs trembled on the edge of the chair.

You’d already been riding the dildo for what felt like forever. Your legs burned from the slow, torturous pace he made you keep, and your hands gripped the arms of the chair like they were the only thing grounding you to reality. You were soaked, your slick coating the toy, dripping down onto the towel he’d oh-so-thoughtfully laid under the chair.

And there he sat—fucking relaxed—legs spread on the couch, one arm draped over the back of it, the other holding a glass of water like he was watching some light evening entertainment.

Like you weren’t whining, flushed, twitching every time you bounced too fast or gasped too loud.

His glasses hung low on his nose now, just enough to let you see his eyes—that cold, glowing blue rimmed with a lazy heat. He was enjoying this. Way too much.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured, tilting his head. “You’re the one who said you could be good. You wanted to impress me, right?”

You nodded helplessly, hips grinding down slowly, the thick stretch of the dildo catching just right against your cunt. It dragged across everything—just a little too big, the kind he chose because he knew it’d ruin you with time.

“I-I’m trying—” you gasped, voice cracking mid-sentence as your thighs jerked.

Gojo clicked his tongue.

“That didn’t sound like ‘yes, sir.’”

You choked on a whimper. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He leaned forward a little, one eyebrow quirked, smile lazy and cruel. “Look at you. Just a dumb mess on a chair, stuffed full of silicone. You haven’t even cum yet and you’re already shaking.”

He was right. Your legs were trembling from the edging—the build-up, the teases, the way he wouldn’t let you bounce too fast. Every time you started losing control, moaning too loudly or grinding harder, he made you stop. Made you hold still. Start over.

And now you were desperate. Fucked open and needy, clit throbbing, hips rolling with a pathetic rhythm.

He took a long, slow sip of his water and set it down with a soft clink. “Hands behind your back.”

Your eyes snapped up.

“You heard me. Arch your back, hold your wrists. You don’t get to use the chair anymore.”

You obeyed, knees wobbling as you straightened up. No more armrests. No more grip. Just your body, balancing over the dildo, hips trembling.

The next drop down made you sob.

“That’s it,” Gojo purred. “Let that pretty pussy swallow it. I want to see it twitch.”

He was palming himself now through his pants, slow and shameless. Just watching you bounce—not even fast—just enough to sink down fully and lift again, your wetness making a slick shlick each time.

“Look how greedy you are,” he murmured. “Taking all of it like that. Fuck, you’re soaking. You like me watching you, don’t you?”

You nodded with a breathy moan.

“Say it.”

“I-I like it when you watch me, sir.”

He smiled. Sharp, slow.

“Yeah you do. That pussy’s clenching like you’re trying to show off.”

You let out a choked cry, rocking harder now, pushing the toy deep and rolling your hips just to feel it grind right against that aching spot. Your walls spasmed around it.

“Sir—can I—?”

Gojo’s eyes lit up.

“Oh? That close already? We’ve barely started.”

You nodded frantically, shoulders tense as your body shook, hips stuttering.

“Beg for it.”

You sobbed.

“P-Please let me cum, sir. I’ve been good. I’m trying—fuck—I need it. Please.”

Gojo stood.

Just like that—the air changed.

He walked toward you, slow and deliberate, and crouched down at your level, tilting his head as he looked between your legs. The dildo was glossy with slick, your cunt red and twitching, lips puffy from the friction.

“God,” he whispered. “You really are a mess, huh?”

You nodded weakly. “Please—”

Gojo reached out and slapped your thigh.

Not hard—just enough to make your cunt clench. “You cum when I say you can cum.”

You cried out, legs jolting.

Then—finally—he leaned in.

You didn’t even realize what he was doing until his breath hit your inner thigh, and then his tongue flattened against your clit.

You screamed. Literally screamed.

One long, filthy lick, and your legs nearly buckled. You would’ve collapsed off the chair if not for the dildo keeping you in place.

Gojo just laughed, deep and smug, and kept licking—slow, then fast, flicking your clit with precision, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still.

“Hold it,” he growled into your cunt.

You tried. God, you tried.

But the second his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked, your body jerked.

“Sir—!”

He pulled away instantly.

You were panting, aching for release, hips twitching on the dildo.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly. “You cum now, and I’ll make you do it again. With a bigger one.”

You whined, on the edge of sobbing.

But he didn’t stop.

He went back in—licking, teasing, using his fingers now to spread your folds, watching how you fluttered around the toy.

“Gonna let me watch you fall apart?” he asked, voice low. “Gonna soak my fucking toy and cry for me?”

You nodded so fast it hurt.

He grinned, mouth back on you, fingers pressing the base of the dildo harder so it rubbed deeper inside.

“Cum for me.”

You did.. And god, it was fucking ecstasy.

Your whole body seized as the orgasm ripped through you. The noise you made was broken, high-pitched—pure release. You gushed around the dildo, pussy spasming, hips jerking as Gojo held you in place, mouth lapping it up like he’d starved for it.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “That’s it. Look at that pussy. So fucked-out.”

You slumped forward, legs twitching, breath ragged.

Gojo stood and leaned over, kissing the side of your face.

“Good job baby,” he whispered. “I’m impressed.” He cooed, hand moving to pet the top of your head. “You did so well for me. So pretty like this. You need water? Want a bath?”

You nodded weakly.

He helped you up, the toy slipping out with one slow, wet sound, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing.

“C’mon,” he murmured, carrying you toward the bathroom. “I’ll clean you up, love.”

[bucketsofmonsters]

A Matter of Time - Chapter 3

Timothy Timepice x Reader, Timmy x Reader

Slow burn, At least for one of them it’s a slow burn, Timmy doesn’t really do slow, Gender neutral reader, Afab reader, Anxiety, Enemies to lovers, Or I guess people who bicker a lot to lovers, Rating will change soon, Reader will be domming both of them so if you’re not down for that, don’t get too invested, eventual smut, insomnia

word count - 2k

Masterlist

You had seven alarms set. 

The first was at 11 a.m., an hour before your meeting. It was more to ensure you were awake than anything, if you were being completely honest. 

The next was at 11:30, half an hour before your meeting. That was when you really needed to start getting ready. 

After that, you had one at 11:35. Just in case you’d missed the one at 11:30. 

The alarm at 11:40 was your alert to stop whatever you were doing and make sure everything was in place. 

You did not remember what the 11:45 alarm was for, but you were relieved that you’d set it because sometime in the last five minutes, you had fallen asleep. 

11:50 was your alert to enter the room, staring down the cat clock with determination. The ticking of the seconds as it looked in either direction seemed like they might be taunting you. 

At 11:55, your alarm told you to assume the position, ready to move at exactly noon with not a second to spare. 

At 12:00, you heard your alarm blare the second a well-dressed cat boy appeared in front of you.

He looked quite pleased with you, and you knew right then and there that the objects knew what happened when they weren’t sentient. That was the face of a man who had just watched you prepare to summon him for 10 minutes while alarms blared in your ears. 

You whipped around as soon as he was there, turning off the alarm as quickly as you could. 

“I’m sorry I upset you,” you blurted out, and his face shifted from his quiet smugness to being a little nervous. “I really didn’t mean to. And it’s fine if you don’t want to show me your schedule. I won’t ask again.”

The idea that you’d hurt him, that one of these people you’d basically brought to life was now worse off for meeting you, had been eating you alive all night. You had gotten very little sleep during your designated sleeping time, despite your best efforts. 

“You’re doing much better with your schedule today,” he said, completely ignoring your words. 

Your apology would not be stopped so easily. 

“It’s just, I’m so curious about you guys. It wasn’t about your schedule, not really. So you don’t have to worry about that. Well, if you were worrying about that. But also, you can always tell me to fuck off. The last thing I want is for you to feel trapped, especially since you can’t really exist without me. Not that you’ve had any issue telling me to fuck off. Although you do it in a fancier way, obviously. Not to imply you don’t.”

“I have never told anyone to fuck off,” Timothy huffed. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “That really isn’t what I wanted you to get from that.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “And perhaps, an apology of that nature was not required of you. Regardless, even if it was, you really should apologize with more dignity.”

You bit back the urge to get snippy with him moments after apologizing. “Right.”

“I mean, really, did you practice at all? It was quite a mess.”

“Careful,” you warned him. “I can still take it back.”

His eyes narrowed. “You must stop taking things back like this, it is rather unbecoming.”

I didn’t take it back,” you clarified. “I just threatened to.”

“Oh, and that’s better then? Admitting to being a brute who runs around threatening innocent people?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think it’s exactly a particularly dangerous threat.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself," he said with a huff. “And it is serendipitous, I suppose. My intentions towards you were much the same.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, are you going to apologize to me?”

Timothy eyed you angrily. “I suppose I potentially overreacted yesterday. It was a rare display from you of interest in things of value and I should not have discouraged it so strongly.”

You couldn’t begrudge him for his bad attitude, especially after how you’d behaved immediately following your own apology. “Thank you.”

“You will note,” he added haughtily, “that my apology was clear, rehearsed, and precise, unlike the rambly mess you presented. Half marks! Now, have you come to appreciate the wonders of your schedule yet or are you still in the denial phase?”

You were unsure why you came to visit Timothy so often when he consistently drove you insane. Perhaps you had developed some sort of fast acting Stockholm Syndrome. 

“It has been very helpful,” you said, taking the jabs at your character with an unprecedented amount of grace. 

“Helpful? That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t know, I liked not having to choose things to do for myself so I think I would like it less if I had to make my own, but certainly your schedule was good. It was very helpful, even. Is that enough?”

His tail swung rhythmically behind him and he looked quite pleased with himself. “So you did follow it then?”

“Yeah. Well, I did cancel the appointment before this to make sure that I was on time to meet with you.”

Timothy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating that my schedule did not account for your time well enough to allow you to attend all meetings promptly and in a timely manner?”

“I did almost nod off before, so it was really for the best.”

Timothy’s nose scrunched up. “I gave you a more than adequate window for sleep, you should not be nodding off.”

“Listen, I tried,” you insisted. “Sleep is just hard for me these days.”

Timothy’s brows raised and he gave you a knowing look. “Frankly, the better question seems to be what is not difficult for you.”

At this point, you could hardly remember why you’d decided to visit Timothy in the first place. 

“At least I don’t have a stick up my ass,” you muttered, intentionally loud enough for him to hear. 

He reeled back in shock. “Excuse me? How dare you?! You are a hooligan; a cur; a rowdy, despicable creature. I never should have even attempted to redeem you from your delinquency. You are beyond saving.”

You rubbed at your temples, none of this quite going to plan. Right now, you just wanted to get out of there. “Listen, I’ve been asking all the… object-people-whatevers if there’s anything they want to do or have. It didn’t seem fair that you’re all stuck here so I thought you could all tell me if there’s anything you wanted and I could go out and grab it. So if you’ll just do that, then I can get out of your hair. Or, out of your fur, I suppose.”

Timothy seemed incredibly suspicious of this offer. “Anything I want?”

“Within reason,” you quickly added, not wanting to bite off more than you could chew. “Like, I don’t know, do you want cat toys or something?”

Timothy looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “Cat toys?”

“Yeah,” you said, already feeling a little silly about the suggestion. “Cat toys, or whatever.”

“What exactly do you think I would do with cat toys?”

“I don’t know, play with them?”

Timothy turned his nose up at you haughtily. “I do not play.”

“Fine then,” you huffed. “Don’t ask for anything, I don’t care. I’m just offering it to everyone.”

“Right. Well, I think I will manage without cat toys, but if I may make a suggestion, you may want to invest in a calendar. But no, I do not require anything from you. Now, if there is nothing else you wished to discuss, I will bid you good day.”

You didn’t even manage a wave before he was gone. 

The next morning, you got him cat toys. 

You’d honestly only meant to get him a set of teacups as an olive branch (that you were sure would inevitably lead to another fight), but you hadn’t been able to resist the urge. 

Your next appointment from your schedule with Timothy was not today but tomorrow. You figured it was best to avoid angering him anymore than you already had, so for today you just continued on as planned.

You mainly did deliveries all day, giving everyone what they’d asked for. Their reactions ranged from grateful to seemingly still upset at you. You tried to remind yourself that when they reacted poorly, it wasn’t really about you. They were usually overwhelmed with or angry at the situation they’d been thrust into. 

Except, perhaps, for Timothy. You were fairly sure that snippiness was entirely about you. 

The next day was much the same. The days had begun to bleed together and, although you were loath to admit it, your schedule was the only thing keeping your head on straight. 

You’d translated most of it onto the brand new calendar on your wall, but the busy days quickly morphed into blank ones. Maybe you could ask Timothy to make you a new one when you saw him later. At noon, you reminded yourself.

Until then, you just continued your rounds. 

Your guilt and racing thoughts had begun to be eroded by waves of monotony as you slowly got used to your new routine. Regardless of why, it was getting easier, and that alone was a blessing. 

At 11 o’clock, you pulled out the tea cups, grabbed your calendar, and after a moment of deliberation, the cat toys, and set them on the counter. 

You had once again canceled anything you had the hour before seeing Timothy, set on not being late. You had an 11:45 alarm to make sure you were where you needed to be, but it proved to be unnecessary as you were already sitting in the room, ready to go, when it rang. 

You blinked heavily, the minutes passing incredibly slowly. You weren’t sure how they passed so very rapidly when you weren’t where you needed to be but when you were here, they inched by. 

You blinked heavily again. Why was the clock so blurry?

You blinked your eyes harder, trying to clear the fog from your vision. 

1:35

You’d fallen asleep. 

You jumped up, grabbing your glasses and summoning Timothy without a second thought. You had to do it as soon as you could, not give him any more late minutes to be furious at you about. 

As you locked eyes with him, his face grew panicked. 

“No,” he hissed. “You cannot be here.”

“Look, I know I’m late but I have gifts for you! Surely that must make up for it a little!”

“No. No, no, no,” he said, his voice growing increasingly insistent. “You need to leave now.”

Before you could respond, Timothy tensed up, his hair standing on end like a frightened cat before he collapsed to the floor. 

You rushed over to his side. By the time you reached him, he had begun convulsing. 

You desperately tried to remember what people had said you were meant to do when someone had a seizure. Were you supposed to put something in their mouth? Or maybe it was that you should never ever put something in their mouth. 

You pulled him towards you, laying his head in your lap as he twitched, trying to keep him from banging his head on anything. Could clocks get concussions? 

Then he went still, though to your relief you could still feel his breaths coming, slow and steady. 

His eyes opened slowly, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen it. 

He grinned lazily up at you and softly said “nya” before nuzzling further into your lap. 

Well shit. Maybe he had hit his head before you got to him. 

You pulled back and he sat up with a pout, turning to face you with his nose scrunched up. “Why did you kick Timmy off? Timmy was comfy.”

Timmy?

“Timothy?” you asked tentatively. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No!” he protested. “Not Timothy, don’t mistake Timmy for that stuffy old cat.”

“Are you… not Timothy?” you asked, feeling like you might be feeding into something bad. Surely this, whatever this was, wasn't healthy. How did you test someone for a concussion? 

“Oh,” Timmy said, his face falling. “Timmy did not mean to snap at master. No wonder master knocked Timmy off their lap, Timmy is a bad kitty.”

Master? Bad kitty? You managed to respond with an awkward, “Uhhhhhh, it’s fine.” It felt wrong that Timothy was seemingly not there to make fun of you for it. 

He perked up instantly. “Master is not mad at Timmy? Does that mean Timmy gets presents? Timmy heard master say they brought presents.”

“Um, yeah. They’re just… they’re right there,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the table. 

Timmy sprung up instantly while you stayed on the floor, shocked.

The calendar was dumped on the floor instantly, the teacups being picked up instead to be investigated. 

Timmy made a displeased little noise, setting them back on the table with a huff. “Tea is yucky. Timothy doesn’t even like it, he just pretends. Timmy doesn’t see the point.”

“Right. You just- or, Timothy said he wanted nicer cups,” you tried to explain. 

“Timothy will not like them because Timothy hates everything. This is our present?”

You shrugged. “There’s cat toys on the table.”

Timmy’s eyes lit up instantly, gaze flicking to the aforementioned toys. One clearly caught his interest as he was now lurching across the table to swat at the small, shiny, crinkly ball that you had gotten as a joke. He batted it to the floor and then dove for it again, capturing it before throwing it away again with a giggle. 

You began to come back to yourself as you watched him play. “Sorry, who are you?”

Timmy looked over at you for half a second before deciding you were still less interesting than the crinkly ball was. “I’m Timmy! Timmy has a condition. Half the time, stuffy old Timothy is out and he obsesses on his schedules and his timeliness and half the time Timmy is out!”

Suddenly everything started to make a lot of sense. “That’s why Timothy was so averse to letting me see his schedule! He was trying to hide you from me.”

He batted the toy at you and you smacked it away, watching as he then chased it in delight. “Yes! You are so smart, master.”

“Sorry, why do you keep calling me that?”

“It is what you are,” he said. “You bought Timmy from that awful store with the used things and now you own our clock.”

“Yeah, alright,” you said tentatively. “Well, this has been a lot. When does Timothy come back?”

Timmy shrugged. “You have to check his schedule. I don’t worry about that sort of thing. But you shouldn’t worry about him anymore, you should come visit me! Timmy is much more fun,” his words were soft and playful but there was something almost sharp in his gaze when he glanced over at you. 

“Right.” you said. “And how do I know when you’ll be… you?”

“Just come when Timothy says not to and I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting eagerly, master.”

“You really don’t need to call me that,” you insisted. 

“Okay, master. Timmy is tired, goodnight.”

[bellasweetwriting]

dark past { clark kent x f.reader }

masterlist

part one. part two

plot: your relationship with clark is public, yet dealing with his friends has never been harder

warnings: angst and fluff. mean girl!reader x goldenretriever!clark

a/n: this is part two of “call it what you want” that has been requested like three times! i also loved it so here it is i really hope you like it. also, i wrote this very late and somehow ended in the existencial crisis route at one point, but still, hope you enjoy

Up til that moment, Clark’s parents seemed to be the only ones in Clark’s life that actually enjoyed your presence. The other people in his life seemed to keep their distance when it came to you.

“And that’s how,” you said, finishing setting up the Kent’s’ new TV cable as it arrived. “You can record your games, Mr. Kent.”

“You’re an angel,” Jonathan said, pressing the record button to save the Sharks game for later. He laughed, excitedly, staring at the recording symbol on the screen. “This is the future. This way I won’t miss any game.”

“You just created a monster, sweetie,” Mrs. Kent said to you, making you smile. “Thank you for helping us out.”

Clark came from the kitchen, surprised to see you standing in the living room with your parents when he wasn’t around. He looked at you with a frown, confused, but you simply gave him a smile.

“Babe, what? Uhm…” He smacked his lips together, giving you a closed-mouth smile as he looked at you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Thought I’d come by and surprise you. Ran into your parents setting up their new cable and wanted to help them out.” You smiled, but that’s when you saw the root of the problem.

Lana walked into the living room, holding her backpack. She looked at you both before staring at her shoes.

“Lana,” Mrs. Kent called her, standing up by your side. “What a surprise, sweetheart. Long time no see.”

“Hi, Mrs. Kent. Clark and I had an English project due soon and I suggested doing it here,” Lana explained, turning to look at you. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you finally said. “Clearly I’m the bad third… or fifth, here. Uhm—” You clapped your hands together, turning to look at Mrs. Kent. “It’s always a pleasure coming here.”

“Always a pleasure to have you,” Jonathan Kent said as he stood up from the couch, his eyes on his son before looking back at you. “You know, such a pleasure that you should come to dinner tomorrow. I’ll cook.”

“I’d love to,” you said, softly, grabbing your purse. “See you then.”

You turned to look at Clark, who had decided, for his own good, to sit this one out. You smiled at him, rubbing with your usual warmth his arm before walking out of the Kent house, feeling like the second to Lana once again.

Clark stared at the door that you walked through before looking back at Lana, handing the girl a kind smile.

“Lana, why don’t you wait for me at the barn, please?” He told his friend and the brunette nodding, walking out of the house as she waved goodbye to the Kents.

Clark turned around, looking at his parents with a shy smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/n had come over?”

“She said it was a surprise,” Martha said, sitting back down on the couch. “Is there a problem?”

Jonathan raised his hand. “Let me guess,” he said. “Lana and your girlfriend are not the best of friends.”

“Let’s just say… there’s some history between them. They’ve known each other for a while.”

“And how’s your friendship with Lana affecting your relationship?” Martha asked him. “Because y/n didn’t seem very thrilled to see her.”

“I’m dealing with it.”

You, on the other hand, were definitely not dealing with it.

Your true nature was to face the problem head on. That’s the way you’ve handled yourself all your life, and it wasn’t going to change because Clark was now in your life. If Lana and Chloe had a problem with you, it was your business to fix it.

Leaving it to Clark had just made things incredibly awkward.

So, when you saw Clark talking with his parents through the window, and Lana walking towards the barn, you decided to make your move.

“Hey, Lang!” Bad opener, you knew, but you already made it.

The green eyed girl turned to look at you. Mixed feelings grew as you approached her. Memories of Lana and you in the cheerleading squad, arguing, not getting along, jealousy getting involved, of course. And let’s not mention the unnamed popularity contest between the two that, even if you didn’t acknowledge it at the time, you both knew it existed. As you grew up, it disappeared or at least seemed less important than ever.

Lana was always going to be Miss Nice Girl, the one everyone loves. You, on the other hand, were labeled the popular mean girl, wannabe princess, the anti-Lana. And part of you knows it has to do with your strong personality, but most of the time… you have blamed Lana for your reputation. It’s not like she has bitten her tongue when it comes to talk about you.

“What?” Lana asked, her arms crossing in front of her chest. She was pissed. And she had no right to be. Not this time. “I just came over for a school project, not to cause any drama.”

“I think for the first time, Lana, I’m not the drama-starter.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to tell me straight to my face what the hell is your problem with me.”

“I think you know what it is.”

“Ever since I started dating Clark you’ve been nothing but an asshole.” She scoffed. “What? You love to start fires but can’t handle the heat? You’ve been nothing but rude, and I’ve been trying so hard to find peace, but nothing seems to be enough for you.”

Lana shook her head. “You’re only doing this because of Clark! It’s just a charade you’re playing. And I don’t want to see Clark get hurt because he can’t see how rotten you are inside.” Lana took a few steps forward, threatening you. “This nice girl facade you’ve been putting on for the past few weeks aren’t enough to erase all the damage you’ve done to others all your life.”

You both stared at each other, your eyes flaming with heat as you looked into hers. You were pissed, you were hurt, yet you were, by far, just so embarrassed.

She was right.

You could pretend all you want. You could try and be as nice as Clark is, try to let his goodness and kindness rub on you, wait until you get infected with his values… yet it didn’t erase that, along the way of being mean to yourself… you’ve been mean to other people.

Lana was just telling you something you already suspected of yourself.

You did not deserve Clark.

“Hey,” Clark finally interrupted, making you both turn to look at him. “Everything alright?”

You looked at him, a fake smile appearing on your face as you quickly nodded.

“Everything alright,” you said, brushing your hair off your face. “Just some lame girl talk. I’ll see you around, Kent,” you whispered, placing a quick, rather rushed, kiss on his cheek before walking away.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The strings of your guitar burned your fingers as you pressed them too hard. The rage you had, against Lana, against the things you’ve done, against how all of it it’s crumbling down, and ruining what’s going on with Clark.

Your friends are no better. The cheerleaders haven’t spoken to you for anything other than help with what outfit to wear, or opinions on which guy they should date. When you told them about Clark they shrieked, smiled, and then forgot about it as soon as the next topic came around. Your football player friends had to be explained at least a few times who Clark Kent was, and once they finally put a face on the guy, they promised they wouldn’t mock him when they see him again.

At least that was nicer than the way Chloe and Lana have been treating you. Chloe was someone you could handle at least. Other than the snarky comment, the witty remark, and the trip down memory lane to remember your most embarrassing teenage moments, she was alright, and you thought you were actually bonding for a second.

Lana… well she was another conversation.

The fact that she and Clark had a thing for one another not a while back, and had briefly dated, or were seeing each other and then stopped… it was complicated enough without adding your rocky relationship with her as a factor.

You strung so harsh the string of your guitar ripped in half, startling you awake from your thoughts. What were you even thinking about? You’ve been mortifying yourself with your own banquet of thoughts when what you should be doing was talk to Clark.

You stood up from your messy bedroom floor. Badly composed lyrics, chords that didn’t make sense, scribbled down doodles, and probably a grocery shopping list surrounded you like a pile of your own mental disaster manifesting in front of you.

You tossed the guitar on the bed, looking in your drawers for a set of new strings you tend to collect in cases like this, when the mental spiral comes and projects physically, ending up in breaking a string.

You grabbed the set and sat down next to your guitar. The sight of that old, beaten-up instrument makes you nostalgic. Maybe in your hand you were holding what truly is your best friend.

Your phone rings. The screen on that pink flip-phone lights up and the name you were hoping it was is shown.

Clark<3

You smiled. Couldn’t help but to. You crossed the river of unfinished songs, grabbing the phone that kept bouncing as it vibrated, knocking the white wood of your desk.

“You’re lucky I like your face. I’m in the middle of something very important.”

“And what’s that?”

“Staring at the ceiling while I decompress from a tired day of carrying everyone on my back,” you joked. “You think I just wake up that beautiful?”

“Look outside, hothead.”

You frowned, approaching the window with curiosity. You peeked outside, being surprised by your boyfriend standing on your front lawn, holding a basket and a blanket, while his phone was next to his ear.

He was wearing a gray baseball cap backwards with his hair peeking from the sides, a white t shirt that highlighted the bigness of his arms, and a pair of dusted blue denim jeans with dirt on the knees. He probably was coming from completing farm chores. He looked sweaty, and he knew. You could tell he was embarrassed about it.

You kind of like it.

“I’m sorry about today,” he said, his smile growing widely once he saw you. “You wanted to surprise me, so I thought I’d return the favor.”

“You think this is pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know… Yeah, yeah I do.”

“You’re proud of yourself? Pat yourself on the back even?”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I should be amazed by a farm boy picking me up some of ‘em apples and bringing ‘em to my dear old home. Did you bring me a lil’ pie, young fella?”

“I’m hanging up.”

You laughed, opening your window. “Are you going to climb up or what?”

“What about the front door?” He asked, laughing as well.

“You want to wake up my dad?”

He looked at you, holding tightly his cellphone.

“Take a step back,” he asked you and you did as obliged.

You turned to look at the papers all over your bedroom floor, as well as the clothes on top of your bed, and you did your best to start picking up your things, tossing them under the bed, inside your closet, wishing he can’t see though the doors or something.

As you turn back around, you see Clark Kent taking a step inside your bedroom, placing the basket on the floor with a giant smile.

“It’s no windmill but, I try my best.” He closed the window behind him. Then, he turned to face your bedroom, taking in all its elements as he smiled. “Nice place.”

“I try my best,” you said, grabbing the blanket Clark brought and placing it down on the floor.

You sat down, legs crossed, looking up as that tall good-looking man you’re lucky to call your boyfriend sat down right beside you, opening the basket he brought with him just for you.

“I brought hot chocolate, chocolate chip cookies of course.” You smiled, looking at his face framed by that baseball cap he was wearing. He looked incredibly attractive, so handsome you were trying not to melt. “I also brought chocolate strawberries. Everything that has chocolate is probably inside this basket.”

“I think that’s a wise choice,” you whispered, taking out one of those incredibly appetizing strawberries and taking a bite. “So how was working with Lana?”

He shrugged, looking away. You noticed. “Normal. I heard your conversation with her though.”

“Spying?”

“Overhearing.”

“On purpose?”

“Mostly accidentally.”

You nodded, turning your head away as well. You were embarrassed enough that you had to hear Lana’s words about you, but Clark hearing them too was a low blow.

“I knew you guys didn’t get along. Didn’t know it was that bad.” Your fingers seemed the perfect place to focus your eyes on at that moment. “Care to tell me what Lana meant?”

“You already knew I was kind of mean. You said you liked it.”

“I like that you’re honest. And direct.”

“Same thing,” you mumbled.

“Baby,” he called for you, softly, making you turn to face him. Those eyes. Those hypnotizing icy blue eyes that fit his handsome face, that made your skin warm. You simply stared at him, hoping he would touch you know, make you forget, make you relax. “What is it?”

“It’s no secret I’m not known for my… sweetness,” you tried to sugarcoat it. “Yes, I may have used my honesty as a way of harm sometimes. But it’s all because… I’m just tired of this place.” He frowned. “Everyone has this opinion of me, since I was little. Maybe because I was pretty, maybe because of my loud personality, but it just upsets me. And I take that anger inside of me on others, and I know that’s not right and I shouldn’t do it. I just… sometimes I think I’m meant to do greater things in life than live up to the image people built of me.”

“And you think Lana does that?”

“I didn’t mention Lana,” you were quick to say, pointing your finger at him. He raised his arms in innocence. “But… don’t you think people like her and me are constantly locked down by the idea that people have of us? Like, everyone thinks Lana’s so perfect and nice, so she can’t make any mistakes. That puts so much pressure in one person. And let’s not talk about my labels. Cheerleader. Miss Sweet Corn. Homecoming queen. Just… so many labels. So I’m rude, yes. And yeah, maybe I’ve hurt people. I get it… But maybe I was just trying to escape them. Don’t you think that maybe, by trying to comply with what they wanted of me, I might be getting hurt too?”

Clark looked away. “I think it’s valid to feel that way… but maybe what you need to start thinking about is… is it really worth it? To change the label? Yes, you change what they think of you, but they’re still labeling you as something else. And you lose yourself in the process.” You looked away, fearing he was right. “But I’ve also seen what happens when people take real interest in you. That happened to me. That’s what I liked about you. Just… how excited you are to be your true self. And how scared you are to be it as well.”

You looked at him, a smile slowly growing on your face. “Can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Would you consider what I said?” You nodded. “Maybe try breaking off the label. Being who you are, no matter if people like you, hate you, idolize you, or ignore you.” He handed you a hot chocolate, which you grabbed with both hands. “Just be yourself. Like you said: Smallville is just a step in your way of something bigger.”

“I don’t care about popularity, Clark,” you lied, taking a sip from the chocolate.”

“Right, says Miss Sweet Corn,” he mocked you, trying to hold back a laughter. You did the same. “I like you. Just how you are. I don’t care about the past. Just like you always say: what matters is what’s coming ahead, and how you’re working for that goal every day.”

You smiled. “I can be very wise when I want to.”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You walked in hand in hand with Clark the next day. It was becoming a habit.

But what had also become a habit was that you would sit with your friends, the popular crowd, with Clark, since his friends couldn’t stand you.

When they called you, and signaled your usual spot, you waved at them with a smile, before you continued walking, confusing Clark as you dragged him along.

“Where are we going?” He asked. “We always sit there. I was finally starting to learn all the nicknames.”

“I thought we could eat somewhere else for a change,” you said, turning right and entering the Torch office with a smile.

There was Chloe and Lana chatting at Chloe’s desk, both girls turning to look at you and Clark as you walked in, confused and surprised.

“Long time no see,” Chloe finally said. “Popular crowd finally kicked you out?”

“Opted for the exit sign this time,” you replied before Clark could, approaching the girls. “I thought we could eat with you guys.”

Lana looked at Clark before looking at you. “Why the sudden change?”

“Well, I believe I haven’t gotten the chance to actually get to know you guys, as well as you guys haven’t gotten the chance to know me,” you said, sitting down at an empty chair, while Clark leaned back on the desk. “So, the torch… nice. Tell me all about your next edition, Chloe.”

Chloe and Lana looked at one another before looking at you. Just like that, you put a nickel on Chloe and she started talking non stop.

You turned to look at Clark, the sound of Chloe’s voice filling the room. He smiled at you, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, and whispering the words you wanted to hear.

“Thank you.”

[livelaughleclerc]

The Camera Loves You (And So Do I) - AL50

Pairing: Arthur Leclerc x fem!reader

Warnings: language

Summary: you are a stylist working on the APM shoot with the Leclerc brothers. Sparks fly when you meet Arthur.

A/N: This idea came from a friend and I just had to write it. I don’t think it’s my best and I have zero idea how stylists and the fashion world work but I hope it makes sense on that front. Enjoy!

“Ok so if we can have Charles stand here and then Arthur, I’ll have you over there please.” The photographer’s voice rang out in the small studio as you made final adjustments to the jacket you’d given Arthur to wear. You rolled up the sleeves a couple of times and fiddled with the collar, careful to avoid looking directly into his eyes, knowing you’d forget how to breathe like you had on the last two occasions.

“So, I look good?” asked Arthur with a cheeky smirk.

“Better than when you came in at least,” you joked, finally meeting his eyes to wink at him. You had no idea where this bit of confidence had come from but the blinding smile he gave you made you grateful for its appearance.

“Arthur,” his brother called from his spot in front of the camera, “you ready?”

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way over to the spot next to Charles.

You had worked on APM Monaco’s campaign photoshoots before, helping kit out their models in clothes that fit the theme and the jewellery but this was your first time working with the Leclerc brothers. They had walked in, effortlessly charming and oozing charisma, and greeted everyone on the set personally. The moment Arthur had looked at you, earnestly asking your name, you knew you were fucked. You immediately regretted all the life decisions that led to a pretty boy asking your name and you momentarily forgetting how to speak. Thankfully, as soon as you began looking through your selection of clothes again, your brain had kicked into autopilot enough to pick out an outfit for both Charles and Arthur that fit the idea of the shoot.

“Ok, that’s looking great. Can I have you both sit on those chairs, hold the jewellery on your wrists and look into the distance, not my camera.” Unfortunately for you, this was the exact moment that Arthur decided that looking into the distance meant looking right at you, meeting your gaze and not looking away. You were very aware of the blush starting to creep up your face and spread across your cheeks but you were mesmerised by the way his eyes lit up under the studio lights.

“Same position, just look into the camera now.” Finally Arthur’s eyes left yours, a small smile appearing so quickly you almost missed it, before he looked back into the camera lens. Oh, you were definitely not going to survive this shoot. Absolutely not. Cause of death: Arthur Leclerc, the Monegasque with the cutest smile, the prettiest eyes and the fluffiest hair. With a deep sigh, you turned back to your clothing racks to pick out second outfits for the boys for the other half of the shoot.

Ten minutes later both Leclercs were standing in front of you, patiently waiting for their next outfit. You handed a few hangers of clothes to Charles with a smile, “try that, I think it will work but I’ll double check after you change.” He walked off, thanking you as he went and you turned to his brother.

“I really like this jacket. It’s so nice and comfy too,” said Arthur, fingers running gently over the material of the jacket he was wearing as he spoke. “What brand is it? I’ll have to get one.”

“Oh, you can just have that one,” you said without thinking, turning back to grab the hangers with his next outfit on.

“Wait, really? Isn’t it on loan or something?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s yours,” you said, smiling as you handed him hangers. His face lit up with that smile you were starting to adore.

“Really? You’re the best, thank you so much!” He took the hangers, brushing your fingers lightly as he did so and walked off, leaving you standing in the afterglow, desperately trying to slow your rapidly beating heart.

It had been three days since the photoshoot. Three days of trying to forget about Arthur and his stupid pretty face and stupid pretty smile. You were in the middle of your morning routine, sipping your iced coffee and checking your work emails, when the doorbell rang. You opened the door to a delivery man with a huge bouquet of pale pink flowers interwoven with daisies. “Delivery,” he stated, handing you the flowers before walking back to his van. Getting flowers wasn’t that unusual. A lot of brands you worked with liked to thank you for your work with flowers (on top of payment of course, you can’t pay bills on exposure) but you didn’t recognise the logo of the flower shop on the paper. You took them into the kitchen to find a vase and some water before realising there was a note tucked in carefully amongst the stems.

“Thank you so much for the jacket. I still feel bad though, I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble for giving it to me! Arthur <3”

Oh fuck. Arthur. Arthur had sent you flowers. To your house. Oh god, you were never getting over your dumb crush now. You sank down to sit on the kitchen floor, note still clutched in your hand with a silly grin on your face as your head fell back to rest against the cabinets. You lost track of how long you sat there before remembering the flowers needed to go in water. Eventually, you made your way back to your iced coffee and laptop just as it dinged with a new email. It was from your contact at APM thanking everyone for their time at the shoot and attaching a few photos for approval. They didn’t need your approval, of course, but you liked to still be included in these email chains - seeing the finished product, so to speak, was one of your favourite things. You scrolled to the photos attached and were about to open them when your phone vibrated against your desk.

“Hey, I hope you liked the flowers. I do still feel bad about the jacket though so let me know if you need me to pay for it or something.”

You were in the middle of reading when a second message came through.

“This is Arthur btw. Just in case you got flowers from some other handsome Monegasque today too ;)”

How had he got your number? At this point you didn’t really care, he’d somehow got your address so clearly anything was possible. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming out loud and tried to think of a reply that didn’t sound as deranged as you felt over a man you had only met for a few hours.

“Alas, you were the only person to send me flowers today so there’s no confusion. I loved them, how did you know pink was my favourite colour? Thank you so much”

You hit send before you could second guess yourself and began typing another message.

“Don’t worry about the jacket. I told the brand that you loved it and wanted to wear it and they were ridiculously happy that THE Arthur Leclerc wanted their creation. You are Monaco royalty after all. I honestly think they might send you an entire wardrobe now, just a heads up!”

Putting your phone down so you wouldn’t check it constantly whilst waiting for a reply and turned back to your laptop. Your emails had somehow moved to the original message in the chain and as you were about to scroll up, you realised something. There staring you in the face was your contact details. The email has everyone involved listed with phone numbers, addresses (where relevant but yours was there in case they needed to send any clothes or jewellery to yours ahead of time) and right under your details was Arthur’s name and number, then Charles listed directly underneath in case you had any sizing questions. Mystery solved.

“They can send me whatever they want as long as you style me.

You told me your favourite colour was pink. Have you forgotten our conversations already? I am WOUNDED. Am I that forgettable? ;)”

“You’re too cute to be forgettable”

Shit. That was an inside thought, it should have stayed in your head. Why the hell had you typed it? You could feel yourself starting to panic. You’d made it weird. He was going to tell everyone not to work with you, your business would suffer, you’d be broke, you’d have to live on the street…you were still spiraling when your phone lit up again.

“You think I’m cute?”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. Please ignore it. Fuck. I’ve made it weird. And now I’m swearing too much. Shit. Sorry.”

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

Oh, he was definitely going to be the cause of your death. Or maybe just the death of your phone as it fell from your hands and clattered onto the floor, almost as loud as your fast beating heart. You took a deep breath before reaching down to get your phone but as you had it in your hands it began ringing, scaring the hell out of you and causing you to drop it again, accidentally answering it in the process. You began speaking as you were grabbing it again, quickly bringing it to your ear, “dammit, hello?”

“Do you always answer the phone like that?” came Arthur’s unmistakable accent through the speaker, followed by a laugh.

“No. That would be extremely unprofessional. That specific greeting is reserved for cute Monegasques who steal jackets and send me flowers,” you quipped, somehow feeling a bit of your confidence come back.

“Ah. So you do think I’m cute,” said Arthur smugly, like he’d just caught you out in some game you didn’t know you were playing. “Hey, wait a minute, I don’t steal jackets!”

You giggled as he realised what you’d said. “Let me guess, you steal hearts instead...”

“Depends. Is this working?” He paused and you heard him take a breath waiting for your response.

“Maybe,” you admitted quietly, fingers nervously playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Gooutwithme? No, merde, I mean… I did call to ask you out on a date but not like that. I practiced what I was going to say. It was not that. Putain,” he said frustratedly.

“Wait, you practiced?”

“…no.”

“Fuck. Arthur Leclerc, you might just be the cutest person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?” You could hear his smile through the phone, matching the one currently making your cheeks ache. “I really haven’t stopped thinking about you since the photoshoot. Can I take you out on a date? I promise I’ll even pick my own outfit.”

“Only if I can take it off you later,” you said, before your brain had caught up, scrunching your face up in immediate regret.

Arthur groaned from the other end of the line, “you may just be the death of me, you know,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same about you, Leclerc. And my answer is yes, obviously.”