#how can i feel like i try too hard and still not be enough for anyone

[jayparked]

99 Jungwon

"you swear you've never sucked cock before?" jungwon pants, chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to maintain some sort of composure while you deepthroat him almost too casually.

you glance up at him with large doe eyes, shaking your head slightly with the tip of his cock still between your lips. you let out a low grumble in response, making jungwon groan and stumble forward from the vibration. you let yourself gag on him, wanting him to experience the full satisfaction that he's slightly too big for your inexperienced mouth.

"fuck, could've fooled me. this mouth was made for me."

it's hard not to smile at the compliment. instead, you keep bobbing your head up and down his length, making sure to flatten your tongue alongside him as you do so. drool is pooling down the corners of your mouth and your vision is starting to get blurry from the tears, but you don't care. you've been wanting this for so long and seeing jungwon's face contort with twisted pleasure just from your ministrations is enough to have a pool of your own arousal dripping to the floor.

"i can't believe no one has had you like this before. now that i've got you like this i don't think i can let you go."

you pull away from him with a gasp, wiping the drool and precum off your face with the back of your hand. "you can have all of me if that's what you want." you look up at him excitedly, expectingly even. everything leading up to this moment has been only a tinnnyyy bit calculated by you. okay maybe a LOT. but who could blame you? you've had a crush on jungwon for as long as you could remember. but instead of confessing your feelings for your friend like a normal person, you decided to complain to him about being inexperienced. hoping, praying, that he'd take the bait and offer to show you how it's done.

easiest catch of your life. the sentence was barely out of your mouth before jungwon was eagerly offering you his swollen and needy cock.

little did you know he was actually trying to come up with a similar plan of his own.

"y-you can't just...say stuff like that...while looking at me like that," jungwon moans, hands coming forward to cusp your cheeks before moving his hips back and forth at a more steady pace.

"fuck, okay. i wanted to come down your throat but now you're making me think of...other things. has anyone been inside you before?"

he's still rocking his length in and out of your throat so all you can do is attempt to convey your answer with your eyes.

"o-okay. i have so much to teach you then. a-ahhh-," jungwon hisses as you swallow around him, "if your mouth is already this good i can only imagine what your pussy will feel like. lay on your back will you? i want to get you prepped first," he smirks, hovering over you and holding your gaze as you lie down, "it's gonna be a long night."

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[makismei]

thinking about toji with a sensitive girl who runs away before she cums, saying it’s too much and she can’t take it! cw: hints of sadism & machoism, unintentional edging, squirting, he’s pretty sweet ^.^

“baby, c’mon, you’re making this harder for yourself.” he chides, dragging your twitchy hips back. your thighs stay shut and he sends you a pointed glare, “what’s this?”

“toji,” you sniffle, “s’ too much, i can’t do it.”

with your teary eyes and quivering legs, toji can’t help but be mean. you’re so cute. it might be the death of him.

“want to use your special little word?” he asks lowly, already knowing your answer.

you shrink in on yourself, “n-no…”

he hums, a sick grin tugging on his lips. “i’m gonna need something more convincing than that, baby.”

you pout. he’s teasing you. he likes to see you like this.

shyly, you open your thighs, revealing your soaked cunt to him. his eyes lock in on your needy hole, twitching and drooling all over the bedsheets. “please, toji, make me cum..”

“aw, how sweet. saying please too, how can i say no?” he mutters, thick hand caressing your thigh, trailing closer to where you need him.

“you’re not gonna run this time, right?” he pats your pussy, entertained by the way you tense and how you force your legs to stay open.

“m’ not!” he knows you’re lying. but it’s fine, he likes testing how far you can go.

he thumbs your clit, watching you intently. you’re staring down at his hand, anticipating his next move. slowly, he pushes two fingers inside, groaning to himself when you squeeze down on his digits, “what a slutty cunt,” he grouses, “see doll, she’s begging to cum, but you’re not letting her.”

toji prods around, still thumbing your clit and you think you’re going to cry.

“hold your legs back,” he doesn’t even bother looking at you, “your legs are trying to close on me.”

you know what’s gonna happen if you hold your legs back. but also, what happens if you don’t. you shake your head, defiant. “i don’t wanna…”

the man hums, amused. “you’re gonna be like that?” you nod, testing him.

“hmm, i think m’ done being nice to you.” your pupils morphing into hearts at his words, barely even realizing that he’s putting a hand on your thigh, pushing it down to make room for him. he locks your other leg underneath him.

his fingers know exactly where to poke, thumb still on your clit. he’s so precise, aiming for that one spot again and again.

naturally, because he’s already tried to make you cum a few times, it doesn’t take long for you to know you’re gonna cum.

“don’t.” he scolds, already knowing what you’re up to, “don’t hold it, cum.”

it’s overwhelming, you’re not sure if you’re holding it intentionally, but you like it when he forces you to cum anyway. “i c-can’t, toji, toji no!”

you’re trying to squirm away. away from the onslaught of pleasure. toji glares at you and then you hear it.

a soft buzz and you look down, mortified. he’s still fingering you, despite the fact you’re clenching down so hard he can barely move his fingers.

“wait.. wait toji, baby, please,” you beg, “i’ll cum, i’ll cum now. but plea—easeeee!”

“i’ve given you enough chances,” he frowns, pressing the little toy against your clit, he continues driving his digits into you. “c’mon baby, make me happy.”

you’re sobbing hysterically, unable to get away from the pleasure. toji laughs, “let go, i dunno why you’re doing this to yourself.”

writhing on the bed is useless because you can’t escape his hold—teetering on the edge of orgasm is making your mind go numb.

“n-no, m’ gonna cum, toji i can’t hold it! it’s gonna come ouuuttt!” he doesn’t let up, shaking the toy and watching your back arch up.

“hands.” he scolds and you immediately withdraw your clammy fingers from his own, “that’s good, now c’mon, you know what i want.”

it’s paralyzing, left leg shaking uncontrollably underneath him while you babble incoherently. he keeps a watchful eye, working you to it. he feels his cock drooling pre at the sight of you—the feeling of you falling apart on his fingers is making his mind hazy.

your vision whites. toji whistles lowly, watching you splash liquid all over his lower tummy, soaking his boxers. he tosses the vibrator aside, thick fingers gently working you through it.

you’re practically screeching, becoming so fidgety that toji has to use his free hand to scoop up your wrists, keeping you at his mercy.

“shh, baby, that’s good. that feels good, don’t it?” when your body relaxes, he pops his fingers out, shamelessly putting them in his mouth. he leans over you, pressing his weight onto you.

burly hands hold your face, grinning at your bleary eyes and tear soaked cheeks. “hey, gorgeous,” he hums sweetly, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. you’re panting, trying to catch your breath and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but it’s in his nature to be a little mean.

pressing his tongue into your open mouth, you moan, unable to keep up and he breathes out a laugh, pulling away. he knocks his nose against yours, praising you quietly.

weak arms throw themselves over his neck, keeping him close to you. you can feel his bulge twitch, a familiar warmth beginning spread over your body.

“tojiii~” you tease, “i think your little friend wants some attention too.”

he’s amused, grinning wolfishly. “haven’t you had enough, lady?”

you pretend to ponder, “i can’t say for sure.”

“you started this,” he pulls away, manhandling your body so you’re on your knees, face smushed into the pillow, “i think you’re biting off more than you can chew, doll.”

[archiebaldo1414]

Picture it with me people

Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isn’t good. He’s having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like ‘if this was heaven he’d be here’ type shit you know

Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so he’s compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff we’ve never seen before.

A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience can’t tell if it’s sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Dean’s fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]

A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.

There’s more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us that’s one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!

Cas is saved. There’s hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. He’s fucked up about feelings, he can’t voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didn’t let him, but now, now he can’t. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesn’t feel a certain way.

He’s frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely he’s aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?

It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying ‘Cas needs to kiss it better’. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, they’re little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!

Dean runs. Bangs on Sam’s door. Sam opens it, it’s late, he’s annoyed. “What, Dean, why do you look so excited?” He’s doing his bitch face

“Sammy, punch me in the mouth” he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.

“Dean? What? Why would I punch you?” Sam is perplexed. He’s concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)

“I need you to. It’s important, please, Sam”

Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains what’s going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesn’t becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!

Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. He’s nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Dean’s fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Dean’s like it’s all good man but 😔👉👈it hurts

Cas is all; let me heal you…and Dean’s like OKAY THAT’S FINE WITH ME HA HA

There’s a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out what’s going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesn’t let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he can’t even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and he’s still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? What’s go- oh. Oh oh oh oh

Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv

Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end

dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.

cas: here, let me kiss it better.

dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.

[later]

dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.

sam, already winding up: done.

[mywritersmind]

UNCONVENTIONAL - LN4

summary : In which trying to make it home for thanksgiving fails and a cute british driver feels bad.

listen up : no warnings just cuteness! happy thanksgiving to all my americans <33 im thankful for YOU🫵 lando norris x american!driver!reader

word count : 1968

⋆༺

I groan out loud, dropping my phone onto the jet’s seat. “We’re stuck.” Lando sits up from his position across two seats, and frowns.

“Shit.” I look outside of the planes window, seeing the snow and fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not even december! Snow should not be here!” I wipe my eyes. I know Lando feels bad and I'm not making the situation worse by crying. But I’m having a hard time today because I'm supposed to be with my family.

Lando offered me and some other drivers a ride to Qatar for the next grand prix. Thanksgiving happened to fall the day before media day so I thought I could stop by my parents house and leave that night.

I never particularly loved Thanksgiving, but now that i’m traveling so much because of work, I've learned how much I truly can miss my loved ones.

Lando bites his lip as I sit back down and pull the blanket over me. The pilot informed us that we won’t be getting in the air for a few hours which means we have to go straight to the track instead of seeing my family.

I take a breath, “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” I hate crying in front of the guys, even if he is my friend. I hate it because it just plays into the whole emotional woman thing, and even though Lando is one of my best friends, right now I can’t help it.

Lando sits across from me, nudging his foot against mine, “How about we have thanksgiving here?” My head shoots in his direction as he puts on a small smile, “I don’t know a lot about it and I know I'm not your family… but I can try to be a substitute.”

I swallow, wiping my eyes again before I cross my my arms, “How would we even do that?”

I did not expect Lando to take my words as a competition. Still, thirty minutes later I'm sat with a full course meal spread out on the tiny table in between seats. There’s no huge turkey or array of pies, instead we have chicken wraps and fries. We have chips, popcorn, pesto pasta, orange chicken, a bagel, salad, and bread. A bottle of champagne sits next to me as Lando sits down.

His smile is wide as he looks down at the spread, “Good enough?”

“How did you…” I shake my head, laughing, “Yeah it’s good enough! Lando, this is really sweet.”

“It’s my first thanksgiving, I had to make it delicious, even if it is all airport food.” He shrugs and starts pulling things onto his plate. My legs are crossed on the comfortable seat and as I watch him pick his meal, I smile.

I bite into the chicken wrap that’s actually delicious. Lando taps on his phone before music starts playing over the speakers.

I smile at him as he chews, “So… what do Americans usually do on thanksgiving?”

I shrug and sip some champagne, “Eat, gossip, be thankful?”

“Okay! Let’s gossip then. Sounds easy enough.” Hes ridiculously committed to the bit and I adore him for it, “Did you know Franco’s signed with RB?” I start coughing, practically choking on my food.

“What!?” I scream.

Lando’s laughing now, “No I don’t actually know, I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I kick him under the table as he gasps.

“That’s evil! I got so excited.” I’m laughing with him now, our food picked apart and a mess in front of us. “What are you thankful for?”

He thinks for a moment, a curl falling into his face that makes my stomach flip a little. “Mmm… My family and friends.”

“That’s too generic. It’s thanksgiving- get deep, Norris.” He gives me a slight smirk before nodding.

“I’m thankful that the championship talk is over. I’m thankful for Chicken wraps.” He holds his up, proudly as I roll my eyes. “And I'm thankful for you.”

I’m a tad bit shocked, “For me?” I expect him to say something stupid or flirty, but he’s dead serious.

“You’re a really good person. I like being around you and for that, I'm grateful.” He raises his glass and I hit it with mine, “Now go on, brag about me.”

I roll my eyes, back to smiling humorously, “I’m thankful that I'm not alone right now.” His eyes don’t stray away from mine, “And I’m thankful for snow. Even if it’s pissing me off, it’s very pretty.”

We both look out the window in sync, the snow still falling. The runway is fully white, matching the trees and wing of the plane.

When I look back at Lando, he’s already looking at me. His face is relaxed, his freckles prominent and curls perfect. “Do you want to go?” I say suddenly as his expression turns confused.

“We can’t yet, we still have like two hours.”

A smile tugs at my lips, “I mean outside.”

He looks hesitant, “It’s freezing.”

I stand and grab my suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out my puffer jacket at record speed, “Did I mention every thanksgiving, something really random but really fun happens?” It’s true, for some reason this holiday brings out funny stories. “You’re not scared of some snow, are you Norris?” I step closer, narrowing my eyes.

He stands, grabbing his own jacket, “I’m just saying, don’t come complaining when you’re freezing and wet.”

“Me!?” I scoff, zipping up my jacket, “You’re the one who needs four layers for a sunny day.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m freezing my ass off but I would rather become a human icicle than tear my eyes away from her smile. She’s giggling and running into the snow, twirling around as snowflakes fall into her hair.

“Don’t slip, Y/n!” I yell after her as she turns around, the biggest smile on her face.

Her hand goes to wipe the hair that’s being blown in her face, snow falling around her, “Come catch me, Norris.”

I roll my eyes and hurry over to her as she laughs and dances around. I can’t help but laugh with her, it’s fucking contagious.

She sticks her tongue out, leaning her head back to catch snowflakes. Y/n is so perfectly caught in the haze of the snow and light peaking through the clouds that she looks like an angel.

She pokes my cheek and holds onto my jacket as if she’s about to fall. “Your nose is red.”

“You should get a job in detective work if the whole driving thing doesn’t work out…” She scoffs loudly and punches me in the arm.

Unfortunately, she’s stronger than she looks and because the ground is icy, we’re both falling seconds later.

She lands on top of me, laughing so hard that she’s crying, “Fuck! Are you okay!?”

“Like you care!” I sit up, holding her tightly still.

She laughs and plops down next to me, laying her head back and arms out. “Oh no-”

“Angel time, Norris!” She screams at me.

“I’m going to become snow!”

She doesn’t respond, just stretches her arms and legs out and waves them back and forth to make the snow part below her.

Something about her is my weakness and I honestly can’t complain when she looks so happy. I join her, my hair getting soaked and her laughs making me smile.

I make my angel in peace as snow floats down from the sky, landing on my face. I hear the rustle of her jacket as she turns her head to me, “Thank you.”

I smile softly, examining her face and the snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch her skin. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I'm not your family.”

She lets out a breath, “You’re my found family. That’s close enough.” her words make my heart beat faster, “Even if you are British and your first thanksgiving was on a grounded plane.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any other way. Although, next year we should try for a more friendsgiving approach. Maybe with the whole grid?” Her smile grows as she looks up at the sky.

“I'm very down for that.” As i’m mentally tracing her side profile in her mind, a voice and light comes very loud.

“You two!” I realize we’re in trouble instantly and stand up as fast as I can, slipping all over the place as the voice gets louder and the flashlight shines directly towards us.

Y/n is trying to get up with me but she’s laughing and slipping so it’s significantly harder. I grab her hand and we make a run for it, up the stairs and into the warm cabin. The door shuts behind us and I lean my head against the wall, sighing in relief of not being caught making snow angels.

Y/n is breathing heavily across from me, a smile permanent on her face as she looks at me. Her hair is wet and I'm sure mine is the same. I can’t feel my hands and I couldn’t care less.

“You look like a popsicle!” Y/n takes her hands and wraps them over mine, getting close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin.

I’d like to pretend that what happened next was a symptom of my cold state, but I’ve never been a good liar.

As soon as she looks up at me, her eyes big and glassy, I lean down and kiss her. Her lips are warm despite her cold hands gripping my own and as soon as she pulls back, I swear.

“Fuck. I’m sorry-” I didn’t even ask! God, I'm an asshole and now I'm completely stuck. Would I die if I ran outside and hid in the woods?

But she doesn’t look mad. She looks… pleased? Her hand slips out of my reach and moves to the side of my neck, “Don’t be.”

And then she kisses me. I think I blackout because I have no clue how long we’ve been kissing but I do know that I'm now completely defrosted and warm.

“You okay?” I whisper as Y/n pulls away.

She nods, “Thanks for kissing me.”

I laugh, “You’re very welcome. Thanks for kissing me back.”

She smiles again backs up a bit, fiddling with her rings, “So… was that just a thanksgiving thing or a way to warm up or…?”

I’m smiling big now, moving my hands under her jacket as she squirms because of the temperature, “I’ve been waiting for that to happen so if you limit me to once a year, i’ll be pretty sad.”

She nods, biting back a smile, “Good to know!” She slips away from me and pulls off her jacket, sitting in a seat and pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

I slowly walk so I’m in front of her again. She’s smiling at the floor, motioning me to come sit, “There’s one more thanksgiving tradition I do every year.”

She pulls out her ipad and scoots closer to me, I feel like i’m dreaming. “And that is…?”

She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact.

“The Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl!” She starts rattling on about the backstories and starts the episode but i’m still stuck on her face and how her eyes won’t meet mine.

“Y/n…” I say it softly, bringing my hand to her chin and turning her face to look at me. She’s blushing. I don’t think I've ever seen her blush.

“Mhm?” She sounds like a mouse.

I brush her wet hair out of her face and press a soft kiss against her cheek, “I really like thanksgiving.” She just smiles and nestles into my side, my arm around her.

She lets me have some of the blanket and whispers, “I really do too.”

[soobnny]

it takes two — hyunjin x reader ; comfort fic where he helps you shower due to ur inability to after you’d accidentally wounded yourself (1.1k words)

prompt is very specific but i hope u enjoy

You’re starting to get annoyed.

The gash on the palm of your dominant hand has been keeping you idle. You stare at it with bitter eyes, and while hard to admit, there is self-awareness that you’d done this to yourself.

Had you listened to Hyunjin, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, but no. You just had to think that cooking at midnight would be a good idea.

It’s a hard pill to swallow. Your best friend was right, you shouldn’t have done it, but you do not want to live in a world where Hwang Hyunjin is right. The ringing of his “I told you so’s” is already echoing in your ears, just like they’d done before, and just like they will in the following years.

But, right now, you’re really starting to get annoyed.

It’s your second fruitless attempt at a shower, but no matter how hard you try, the sting on your hand is too painful to bypass.

The bathroom tiles are tauntingly cold against your feet, and there’s frustration squeezing at your sternum and clenching your chest.

You feel like crying.

It’s how Hyunjin finds you half an hour later, still fully clothed, knees pressed to your chest and face twisted in a sob. Forgetfulness is a feat you’d always had (Hyunjin always had to set up reminders on your phone so you’d remember), and you were too upset at not being able to do anything to recall that your best friend was coming over.

“Hey, hey, why are you crying? What’s wrong?” There’s a prominent furrow to his brows as he rushes to sit beside you, voice laced with concern, yet soft enough to not startle you. He knows it’ll only make you cry more.

“I know I should’ve listened to you. I know.” Your voice wavers. “But I just want to shower. I haven’t been able to do anything today because of this stupid wound, and I just… I just want to shower.”

Hyunjin scoots towards you, taking your hand in his. He’s careful not to touch your scar, and your face twitches at the sight. “Have you cleaned it? Does it hurt a lot?”

You nod, bowing your head to press against your knees so you won’t have to look at him. You prepare yourself to be scolded, but it never comes. Instead, he finds a way to pick you up. You’re overwhelmed by his sudden scent.

“What are you doing?” You say through sniffles and quivering teeth.

“Are you okay with your clothes being wet?”

“What?”

He sucks in a breath. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”

At his words, you only weep harder. Hyunjin’s never been the type to do anything remotely close to this. Disdain has always dripped down his tongue when his friends would ask him to do anything that involved levels of intimacy, but here he was.

That usual disdain is absent.

“Hey, stop crying.” He whispers, lips fighting a frown at the sight of your droopy nose and your red, puffed out eyes. “Please.”

He carefully sits you in your bathtub, circling around your bathroom so he can collect the things he’d be needing. It doesn’t take a minute before he’s squatting right in front of you. “Is this okay?”

You can only nod.

Hyunjin starts running your bath, making sure your injured hand is out of contact with the water. “Just keep it out here for now, okay? Just so it doesn’t sting. I’ll clean it again after I wash your hair.”

He’s gentle with you as he wets your hair, fingers threading through the strands. He does this for a while until he’s smoothened it out. He knows how much it can hurt when it tangles.

You hear the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then his hands are back on your scalp, massaging the shampoo into your hair. It feels nice—contrasting to the frustration you’d felt earlier. You’ve almost forgotten why you were so upset. You can only feel his fingers through your hair and the comfort that is distinguishably the presence of your best friend.

“Does that feel better?” Hyunjin asks, eyes soft as he looks at you. His fingers don’t stop digging into your scalp, but it seems that everything else in the room stops when he looks at you like this, when there’s nothing else to hear but your heartbeat and the water running.

There’s a twist in your stomach that had been in your chest earlier. You don’t know what it is.

“Better.” You mumble, and there’s a faint smile on his lips when he hears you.

When enough time passes, he uses your dipper to rinse the foam from your hair. It feels vulnerable, sitting in your bathtub while Hyunjin washes your hair. You’ve never done this before, and there is warmth sitting where shame should be.

You never feel embarrassed around him.

Similarly, Hyunjin faces his own dilemma. He didn’t think about it when he made the offer. All he knew was that his own heart felt like breaking when he saw you crying, and he’d do anything to alleviate your pain. It came over instinctively, like it was the right thing to do.

Ah, my feelings are a lot more than I thought, he thinks.

It was inevitable. It had grown little by little. A smile here, a laugh there. He just never thought he would willingly give up his indifference for the touch of someone else so easily. But it was you, and it will always be you. You are the first introduction of what craving feels like. Every small touch from you is electrifying, and Hyunjin feels himself allowing more room for intimacy as long as it was you.

“I’m gonna wash your face now, okay?” Smooth hands cup your cheeks, moving your head from side to side so he can spread the cleanser evenly on your face. He mirrors the way he applies it on himself, fingers moving in circles and rubbing as gently as possible. “Close your eyes.”

He’s a lot closer now, and Hyunjin feels his breath hitch as he rinses the foam from your face.

“This might hurt a little, okay?”

He dips a cloth into some water, taking your hand and letting it rest on his palm before dabbing it on your hand. You wince at the contact, the sting is as sharp as you remember it being, but the contrast in which Hyunjin treats it dulls the pain a little. While his hands are firm, there’s a softness to his touch that you can’t quite explain.

Your pupils blow up when he meets your eyes. “How are you feeling now?” He asks.

You know it’s over, but you want to stay in the water a little longer.

“Thank you.” It’s not the appropriate response, but it says everything it needs to. There is still that unidentifiable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

He can only smile. His brain hates to bear witness to the romance that’s playing in his head.

So, he lets his heart beat instead.

[puck-luck]

Congrats on 1,000! You deserve it times a million 💞 ! I was wondering if you could do Quinn, diamond, 26

thank you!!

"Want me to fill you up?"

Warnings: trying for a baby so... unprotected p in v wc: 630

You’ve been trying with Quinn for a couple of weeks now, ever since the party where you drunkenly held a baby and practically begged Quinn for a baby of your own. He’d been true to his word, fucking you bare just the next day, and he’d been insatiable ever since. Sex is almost a nightly occurrence when Quinn is home. When he’s not home, he always sends you a message about how he wishes he was there to fuck you until he’s dripping out of you. He’s been particularly persistent ever since Garland’s baby was born and he was named godfather– Quinn has been fucking you every chance he gets. You’re astonished that the two pregnancy tests you’ve taken so far– one for each week– have been negative. 

Quinn’s in the shower now, fresh out of practice. He’s got a game tomorrow night and they fly out in the morning, so you’re expecting him to fuck you well tonight. 

He doesn’t. He tells you that he’s just not feeling it right now, which you can understand. Sometimes you get like that, and as much as you want a baby, you’re not going to force Quinn to fuck you when he doesn’t want to. Instead, you have a nice dinner and you lay in bed together, lazily intertwining your legs and exchanging kisses. 

When you wake, Quinn’s already shuffling around the room, throwing clothes into a bag. You watch him, eyes hooded and blinking through the pull of sleep. He notices that you’re awake after a few minutes, looking up from the beanies in his hands. He was trying to decide which to wear with his suit, the navy one. You point at the cream colored one, then bring your hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. Quinn puts the black beanie down, then places the cream one on top of his bag, and crawls back onto the bed. 

He hovers above you and kisses you good morning. “Thought you were going to sleep through me leaving,” he teases quietly, knowing that you’re still adjusting to being awake and would hate for him to speak at a normal volume when he’s so close. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to leave. Want me to fill you up before I go? Maybe you’ll have a surprise for me when I get back, hm?”

You hum, shuffling out from under the covers. You touch the back of Quinn’s neck and kiss him. Your other hand pulls your panties to the side, baring your entrance to Quinn. You’ve taken to sleeping in just your panties and a sleep shirt, even though the weather is getting chillier. His easy access is worth the cold.

A ghost of a smile touches the corners of Quinn’s lips before he kisses your cheek. He works a hand into his pants, only unzipping them and shoving the fabric that left him covered to his knees. He strokes himself as you kiss, moving slowly. There’s no rush, really. You’ve had quickies that went much faster than 15 minutes, so neither of you are worried about taking too long.

Once Quinn is hard enough, he starts to press into you. The sensuality is enough to make your brain go fuzzy.Quinn’s gotten much more vocal since you’ve started fucking with a purpose– his little hums, grunts, and moans are like treasures when they fill your ears. “Oh,” he breathes when you clench down, lifting your left leg to notch it over his hip. He presses forward until his cock is fully engulfed by your pussy. He stays in place for a minute while he licks into your mouth. “Love you,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait for this to take. You’re going to make the prettiest babies for me.”

[anon-vester]

Ivan could feel the constant squirming in his butt. He thought that Kysic was done trying to escape from his ass. It was punishment for always taking his stuff without permission.

48 hours ago.........

Ivan had found several things missing again from his room. He knew who had done it. His roommate Kysic had a nasty habit of borrowing his stuff without even asking. Sometimes, he would return them not the way he had taken them. It really pissed him off about that. He often told him not to take anything from his room unless he asked. Yet time and time again Kysic kept doing it over and over. He decided to put a stop to it and teach him a lesson in leaving his things alone.

As Kysic was in the living room watching tv, Ivan brought him an open soda can. "Here, you must be thirsty." He handed him the soda can.

"Thanks roomy, I thought you would be really upset over my nasty habit." Kysic spoke as he drunk the soda. It was so delicious that he guzzled down the whole thing in seconds. "That was tasty and refreshing." He added as he noticed Ivan smiling back at him. "What's with the smile?" He asked.

Ivan looked at him, "You will see. And I also am still upset over your nasty habit. But I decided to put you in a place to break that nasty habit of yours." He spoke as he waited.

Kysic didn't know what exactly he meant by that. Suddenly thought the whole room was spinning all around him. Everything grew in size, even the couch he was sitting on. He looked over at Ivan who was now like a giant to him. "What's happening?!" He exclaimed in a tiny voice as continued to shrink in size.

Ivan laughed this time. "Soon, you will be small enough to fit in my ass. It will be you prison for the next two days at least. This will teach you the value of personal space." He paused. "You will be my personal butt toy." He added.

Kysic soon found himself centimeters tall, and the world around him extremely huge. He saw Ivan lower his shorts and underwear. He realized that his roommate wasn't lying to him. He began to run, but was already too late. Ivan snatched him up and stuffed him in his butt crack towards his hole. He then stuff part of him into his hole for good measure. "Enjoy your new home for the next two days." He heard him say before closing his butt cheeks, leaving him in a total dark and sweaty prison.

The last 48 hours had been a place of torture for Kysic. There wasn't an ounce of light unless Ivan parted his butt cheeks. It was stuffy and sweaty. Him passing gas made his prison almost unbearable to be there. The worst of it was when Ivan workout. It made it extremely sweaty and slippery. He had to work hard not to get swallowed in his hole. At night, Ivan would fart in his sleep, causing him to pass out and wake up frequently in his hole. Ivan was careful to make sure he couldn't escape his ass when he showered. He would plug him in, keeping him from any means of escaping his prison.

Kysic felt like he learned his lesson. He would leave his roommate's things alone for now on. He hoped some squirming would help Ivan realize he wanted out and learned his lesson.

Ivan was enjoying how much Kysic was squirming in his hole. He really did make the perfect butt toy. He had initially planned just a 48 hour stay in his butt but decided to enjoy his tiny prisoner a little longer. He could tell him his plan, but it would be more fun for the little butt toy to found out on his own. That thought really amused him as he continued to work on his computer.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

“Freak's looking at you.”

There's a nudge to his shoulder that makes Steve jerk up, snapping out of the daze he'd been in.

“Huh?” he asks, looking at Aaron with his brow furrowed.

Aaron nods towards a spot halfway across the cafeteria, and Steve shifts his gaze over to see Munson standing on top of one of the tables, watching him expectantly.

Shit.

“Can you repeat that, if you're expecting a response?” Steve asks. “I drifted off somewhere around comparing the swimming pool to a goldfish bowl.”

He's being honest - it's still harder to concentrate, and he saves it for classes and practice and tends to zone out when he doesn't need to pay attention - but it makes the people who were clearly listening in laugh.

Steve catches Munson's gaze and rolls his eyes, giving him an apologetic little shrug.

He's not really sure how Munson takes it, because he just bemoans the attention span of the average jock and clomps down from the table, but no one's looking at either of them anymore, so he guesses it doesn't matter.

Steve's almost disappointed. Might be kind of nice to see what Munson's like when no one's watching them, he thinks.

—

Things are okay, with him and Nancy and Jonathan.

His gaze doesn't automatically seek Nancy out in a crowd or anything - mostly because he'd always been at her side, before, so it's not like it's even something he's used to - but he still catches her gaze sometimes, still smiles and nods and doesn't say anything.

They share study hall together.

He and Nancy shared it before, of course, and logically he knows that Jonathan had it at the same time they did, but now - now they all have it together.

After the first few times of him or Nancy awkwardly veering sharply away from their previously shared table when they'd seen the other one was already there - one day they just didn't.

They don't say much, but the three of them sit together, exchanging class notes and books. Sometimes Steve sees the pinch in Jonathan's eyes and gives him a bottle of water and some ibuprofen, and sometimes Jonathan sees him squinting too hard at something and copies the passage over in bigger handwriting, and Nancy checks over both of their notes, and it's -

The jagged black cut in his heart scabs, fades, scars. He'll always love her, he thinks, but sometimes he thinks if they can get over the hurt -

Sometimes he sits with the two of them and it's the closest he's ever felt to being understood. Sometimes he thinks it's what he wanted with Tommy and Carol, all those years ago.

It's a start.

—

He runs into Munson after school, sometimes.

They don't say anything either, but after practice gets out and after Munson is done with his theater club or whatever it is, they'll see each other.

Sometimes, if Munson's selling, Steve will linger.

He doesn't really think Billy's stupid enough to point fingers at Munson, and most people are too afraid of him to do anything, but it still makes him feel a little better to keep an eye on him.

It kind of feels like no one watches out for Eddie Munson, not the way he watches out for his fellow freaks.

“What?” Munson demands one day, sidling up to Steve and slamming his goodie box down on the bench. “What're you looking for here?”

Steve frowns at him. “I told you.”

Munson's brows furrow. “You were serious about that shit? You think you're protecting me?”

“Why not?” Steve challenges.

Munson's eyes go flat. “And what's this protection going to cost me?”

Steve thinks about being offended, for a moment, before he wonders if other people have tried to make deals before, keep the other assholes of Hawkins High away from him in exchange for free weed or something.

He softens. “I haven't asked you for anything.”

Munson scowls. “Yet,” he counters. “Whatever you're thinking, if you're trying to get me to owe you, it's not happening. Fuck off, man, I don't need protecting.”

His heart clenches as he hears an echo of Max saying the same thing, and before he knows it he's reached into his chest and pulled out his heart.

The scowl melts into confusion for a brief moment before it's back in full force. “I'm still not showing you mine,” Munson retorts.

“I still haven't asked,” Steve counters. “I don't want anything, man, all right? Just looking out in case Billy tries something.”

Or anyone else, now that Steve thinks of it, but even with his heart pumping in a steady truth, he's not sure Munson'll believe that.

“Just like that,” Munson says flatly, after a moment of watching Steve's heart. “And what do your knights of the round table think of this?”

Steve's nose scrunches. “What?”

“Your knights.” Munson waves his hand dismissively, but - his tone isn't mean, isn't condescending. “It's a King Arthur reference.”

It's nice, that he isn't being shitty about Steve not understanding something.

“Right. So that makes me King Arthur, and you're - what was it again, the court jester?” Steve asks, giving him a little smile to show he's teasing.

“If we're doing King Arthur, I'm going with Merlin,” Eddie says.

“The old guy with the beard and pointy hat?” Steve asks.

Eddie puts his hands on his hips, fluttering his eyelashes. “You think I couldn't pull it off?”

Steve plays along, making a show of looking him up and down. “You know what, sure, you've got the right look for gray haired old man.”

“Asshole,” Eddie tells him, but he doesn't sound pissed anymore. “You know you're cutting into my profits, right? People see you lingering and they're less likely to come buy.”

Steve's brows furrow. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. Only the desperate want to make illicit purchases under the watchful eye of Hawkins High's once and future king.”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I'll stand farther away, make myself look busy.”

Eddie glowers. “Seriously? You're not giving this up?”

Honestly - Steve probably should. But he's stubborn, and Eddie throwing a fit about it kind of just makes him want to do it more.

“Who looks out for you?” he asks instead of answering.

Eddie looks thrown. “What?”

“That's why you do it, right? Why you started walking on tables and making yourself a target. It takes attention off of the guys younger than you.” Steve's trying to make a point, so he slides right over the fact that they both know everyone's younger than Eddie - this is his second senior year, after all. “So everyone watches you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a little bit of an edge back in his voice. “You watch me, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve replies, blunt and honest. “Not really. Not before.”

“Not before Billy Hargrove tried to blame me for bashing your head in with his fists?” Eddie asks.

“He smashed a plate over it, actually,” Steve shoots back. “But yeah, something like that.”

Steve's heart gives an erratic beat. It wasn't a lie, but apparently it wasn't enough of the truth, either. Eddie gives him a pointed look.

“There's these kids I babysit,” Steve says, slow and careful. “They're into the same things you are. They're gonna be in high school next year, and I won't be here. Neither will you, but it just made me think - I'd want someone like you looking out for them.”

Eddie watches his heart for a moment.

“What are their names?” he asks. “Yeah, I won't be here, but Jeff will be. I can tell him to look out for them.”

Relief swoops through Steve, and he doesn't even care when Eddie gives him a funny look after he includes Mike and Will along with Dustin, Lucas, and Max.

He won't admit it, but it helps.

—

The next day, Eddie sits next to him at lunch.

He makes a big deal of it, hamming it up as he hops over the bench and plops down, pulling out a sandwich and some chips and flattening out his lunch bag to make a plate for them.

Steve's sitting with the swim team today, and he watches some of the guys side eye Eddie like they're not sure what the joke is and who the punchline is supposed to be. He watches some of them look at him with disgust, too, and those he carefully files away to keep an eye on later.

“My liege!” Eddie announces cheerfully. “How fair you and your knights of the round table on this fine afternoon?”

“Your king is doing just fine, as long as you keep your boots on the ground and away from the top of the lunch table,” Steve retorts.

“Is this like when Carol used to call her and Tommy Duke and Duchess?” Jacob asks.

“Are we doing that, are we knights now?” Dorian asks, his eyes lighting up a little.

Dorian gets straight A's, Steve remembers that. English is his best class.

“Sure, why not?” Steve says, shrugging carelessly, even as he shoots a smile at Dorian. “You can be Sir Galahad.”

Michael groans. “Don't encourage him, this is stupid.”

Tanner snorts. “From the guy who calls his girlfriend princess.”

Michael flushes. “Shut up! It's just so Ashley will stop whining.”

“Uh-huh.” Jacob elbows him. “We've all heard you at Tina's parties pledging to be her knight in shining armor.”

They have, apparently, completely forgotten Eddie's existence as they fall back to ribbing on each other.

Steve turns to him, finding him watching the table with a narrow, calculating gaze.

“Eat your lunch,” Steve says. “My knights don't give a shit.”

These ones, anyway, and as long as Steve's there, but he's not going to say that.

They both know it.

Still, Eddie keeps it up. It's not every day, or every other day, or in any kind of recognizable pattern, but he'll plop himself down next to Steve's side like he belongs there whenever he feels like it.

Steve largely treats it like he doesn't give a shit, and most of the people he tends to sit with follow suit, if a couple of them can't seem to resist making snide little comments.

It's always the ones who make snide comments to everyone, the kind of assholes that Steve can't wait to get away from, so he mostly ignores it.

The sixth or seventh time it happens, Steve drops his apple on Eddie's folded over lunch bag.

Eddie stares at him.

“What?” Steve asks. “You're going to get scurvy if you keep eating nothing but bologna and Doritos for lunch.”

Eddie snorts. “I look like an eighteenth century pirate captain?”

Steve makes a show of looking him up and down again. “You look like something,” he replies.

Completely unexpectedly, Eddie flushes a little, picking up the apple and taking a comically large bite out of it.

Steve grins.

—

Steve's at swimming practice after school when Nancy and Jonathan show up.

The second he sees them hovering near the back door, he hauls himself up out of the pool, barely pausing to grab a towel on the way.

“What's happened?” he asks immediately, low and quick.

Jonathan's expression is a mess of worry, like he's trying not to panic, as he says, “I can't find Will.”

“We're supposed to pick him and Mike up from the AV club,” Nancy cuts in. “But they're not there, and they're not at any of their usual places at school.”

“Or at home, or anyone else's place, or the arcade,” Jonathan adds.

Steve's chest tightens. It's stupid, kids go off to places they're not supposed to be all the time - especially these kids - but given their track record, that doesn't mean they're not in trouble. “Let me grab my stuff, I'll be right there.”

Practice is almost done, anyway.

He shrugs into his windbreaker and grabs his backpack, darting out the door to follow them. He's already digging around in the backpack to pull out the walkie talkie Dustin gave him by the time he gets to them.

“Little shit better answer,” Steve grumbles, thumbing it on. “Dustin, you there?”

There's a tense pause as they wait.

“Dustin?” Steve tries again.

Nothing.

Jonathan's face goes a little paler, and Nancy's jaw clenches.

“Hey asshole, you're the one who made me carry this around, the least you could do is respond,” Steve bitches.

This time, the walkie flares to life.

“You're supposed to say over when you're done talking, Steve!” Dustin bitches back. “Otherwise I won't know it's my turn! Over.”

“Are you serious right now? It wasn't obvious enough?” Steve asks - then, because he wouldn't put it past Dustin to be a little shit about it, and he knows Jonathan is beyond worried - “Is Will with you? Over.”

“Yeah, he's right here. Why?” Dustin asks. “Over.”

Jonathan sags with relief.

“Was he maybe supposed to meet his brother somewhere?” Steve prompts. “Over.”

Whatever Dustin had been going to say in response to that is drowned out by a chorus of “Oh shit!” and “You said you were keeping track of the time!” and “Don't tell Mom, we'll be right there!”

Nancy rolls her eyes, taking the walkie from him. “Five minutes,” she says into it. “Or we're leaving without you and you can bike home. Over and out.”

Steve's pretty sure he and Jonathan both know that she doesn't mean that, but the kids don't know it, so he's equally sure that'll light a fire under their asses.

“Hey, Dustin, do you and Lucas need a ride home?” he asks once he gets the walkie back.

“And Max?” Dustin asks. “Over.”

“And Max,” Steve agrees, assuming that's a yes. “I'll meet you out front of the high school. Over.”

He shoves the walkie back in his bag, looking up to exchange a relieved look with Nancy and Jonathan.

“See you tomorrow?” Nancy asks, though Steve gets the feeling it's more to fill the silence that's gone a little awkward, now that the potential danger's passed.

“Sure,” Steve says.

“Thanks,” Jonathan tells him, eyes fixed somewhere at his left cheekbone like he's not entirely sure where to look.

“Any time.” It comes out too flippant, though, and Steve makes a face at himself as Jonathan turns to leave.

“Hey.” Steve reaches out, fingers curled loosely around Jonathan's wrist. “I mean it, okay? Any time.”

This time, Jonathan's eyes lock on his. After a moment, Jonathan's cheeks go a little pink, and then he nods before he follows Nancy down the hall.

Steve watches them for a moment or two, then drops his backpack down on a bench a little harder than he probably should, digging around for his sweatpants.

“I don't get it.”

Steve looks up as he's halfway through putting his pants on to see Eddie sidling up next to him in the hall.

“Don't get what?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods towards where Nancy and Jonathan just were. “The three of you.”

Steve shrugs. “We're friends, not a lot to get.”

He goes back to fighting with his sweatpants, wishing he'd dried off a little more before pulling them on over his speedo. They keep sticking to his thighs.

Eddie's gone quiet, though, and when Steve glances back up, he sees Eddie staring at him.

Steve cocks one eyebrow. “What?”

Eddie flushes, looking away. “Didn't figure you'd be so comfortable with the girl who broke your heart and the guy who stole her away, is all. Or hey, maybe she's putting out for both of you, maybe Byers is-”

“Hey,” Steve cuts in, tone sharp and firm in a way he hasn't had to do since he stopped hanging out with Tommy and didn't have to hold him back when he'd gone too far anymore.

But Eddie isn't like Tommy. Maybe he doesn't know Eddie all that well, but Steve gets the feeling he only lashes out when he's feeling cornered.

“Don't be a dick, man,” Steve says, voice softening a little. “They haven't done anything to you.”

Eddie looks back at him, a little surprised, before his expression goes contrite. “You're right,” he admits, easy as anything. “Sorry. It's good that you’re friends with your ex.”

Steve's sort of friends with most of his exes, but that's not the same. None of them were ever Nancy. “I do better as part of a trio,” he says instead of anything else, because it's kind of true.

Then, because he doesn't actually want to field any questions about that -

“Besides,” Steve adds. “If you've heard the rumors, you'd know that's not the kind of threesome I'm into.”

Eddie snorts inelegantly, like he's trying to cover up a laugh. “You telling me I should be putting stock in all the rumors I hear about you, Stevie?”

“Of course not. But the ones about my skills in the bedroom?” he shoots back. “Every word is truth.”

It's not, really. Or, well - not the one about the threesomes. Steve doesn't think sitting between two girls on the couch at a house party and going back and forth between kissing them counts as a threesome.

But it'd never been a hardship to combat that particular rumor, not when it meant he could take his time reassuring the girl he was with that no, he didn't want anyone else there, when he could spend a while making sure she felt important, felt good.

He thinks he'd kind of like spending some time making Eddie feel important.

Steve has no idea what the hell he's supposed to do with thoughts like that.

But he does know the way Eddie's eyes have lingered over his thighs and the line of his stomach and chest peeking out from his open windbreaker, and he-

“You want to find out which rumors are true, you just let me know,” he hears himself say.

Eddie doesn't bite, rolling his eyes and shoving him before he heads off, but Steve isn't deterred.

He hadn't missed the way Eddie's hand had lingered, either.

—

Steve and Eddie have free period together.

Well. Steve has a free period, at least. He's honestly not sure Eddie isn't just ditching, but it doesn't really matter.

They hang out together anyway.

They don't really say much, just - exist in the same space. Sometimes in the smoking area, sometimes at the track, sometimes at the picnic table, sometimes somewhere else in the woods.

They sit too close together when they're in the woods, shoulders or knees always touching.

A few times, Steve takes out his heart, lets himself breathe.

Eddie always glares at it, mutters, “I'm still not showing you mine, Harrington.”

Steve shrugs, tells him he still hasn't asked, and that's it.

Steve'll miss it once he graduates.

—

He graduates, and doesn't go to college, doesn't see Nancy or Jonathan or Eddie much anymore, and it's - it's fine.

He still hangs out with the kids, starts putting in job applications, and it's fine.

He's fine.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 5

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt

[sherewrytes]

Plug Kento Nanami

Plug Nanami: Who shows up on time, every time, dressed like he’s on his way to a party or club instead of making a drop-off, with perfectly rolled joints and not a single hair out of place.

Plug Nanami: Who never raises his voice but somehow manages to make you feel like you owe him more than just payment with that low, smooth tone of his.

Plug Nanami: Who refuses to let you short yourself, sliding a little extra into your bag with a soft, "Consider it a bonus for being such a loyal customer."

Plug Nanami: Who texts you after every transaction with, "Everything to your satisfaction?" like he’s taking customer service to a whole new level.

Plug Nanami: Who only ever stays for a quick chat, but the way he adjusts his glasses and lets his eyes linger on you a moment too long makes your heart race.

Plug Nanami: Who once showed up in the middle of a rainstorm, soaking wet but completely unbothered, handing over your pre-rolls with a deadpan, "You’re lucky I prioritize good clients."

Plug Nanami: Who has this effortless dominance about him, the kind that makes you want to do things just to see him smirk in approval.

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once in your oversized sweats and bonnet and still said, "You look good," like it was a fact, not a compliment.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t miss a beat when you flirt with him, offering a small chuckle before responding, "Careful now. I don’t mix business with pleasure… unless you’re willing to change my mind."

Plug Nanami: Who makes it very clear he’s not just your plug but also someone who notices everything, including when you’re stressed or looking run-down. "You need to take care of yourself," he says softly, slipping your favorite chocolate bar into your hand without a word.

Plug Nanami: Who’s always clean-cut, rocking a crisp white tee or a fitted hoodie, gold chain resting against his chest, looking more like a businessman than someone pushing product—but you know better.

Plug Nanami: Who runs his drops like clockwork, his Hellcat pulling up smooth and quiet. He leans out the window with a calm, "You good? Don’t keep me waiting too long."

Plug Nanami: Who surprises you with how he speaks—smooth, deliberate, but with just enough edge to make you sit up and pay attention. "You know I don’t do half measures, ma. You get the best from me, every time."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off the bag—he stays a little longer, leaning against the doorframe with a calm confidence, arms crossed, giving you a look that says he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t deal with nonsense, shutting down any funny business with a sharp, "Don’t play with my time." But with you? He’s always patient, his voice softening when he says, "Take your time. I’m in no rush."

Plug Nanami: Who tells you he doesn’t do freebies but somehow always slides you a little extra. "Just quality control," he smirks, though you know he’s lying.

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his stash on lock, never running out of the best strains, and every time you ask where he gets it, he just chuckles and says, "That’s my secret."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once buying from someone else and didn’t say a word until his next drop-off. "Whatever they gave you? Trash. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you’re never disappointed again."

Plug Nanami: Who shows up in his car, windows cracked, bass low, smelling like clean cologne and a faint hint of weed. He smirks when he catches you looking. "You like the vibe, huh? I can give you more than just this."

Plug Nanami: Who noticed you peeking at his tattoos one time and rolled up his sleeve just enough to show them off. "Curious, huh? Maybe one day I’ll let you trace them yourself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you try to flirt too hard, chuckles low and deep, leaning closer to whisper, "You know you’re trouble, right? Keep talking like that, and I might start making house calls for more than just business."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask why he pushes product when he clearly doesn’t need to, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes the best things come from unexpected places," before giving you that look that leaves you questioning who’s really in control.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t react when you tease him about being too refined for this game. Instead, he steps closer, his voice dropping. "Don’t let my look fool you, baby. I know exactly what I’m doing—and I know you love it."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you at a party once, surrounded by people you didn’t know, looking out of place. He walked right up to you, slid his arm around your waist, and whispered, "You good? Or you need me to remind you where you belong?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hesitate to pull you aside when someone else tries to step to you, his tone cool but firm. "She’s with me. Don’t make me repeat myself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you’re standing at the door in nothing but booty shorts and a cropped hoodie, doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sweep over you, his voice steady but rough. "You knew I was coming, and this is how you answer the door? You trying to start something, Y/N?"

Plug Nanami: Who stays calm when you playfully call him "Mr. Businessman," but steps closer, his broad shoulders towering over you as he murmurs, "Keep testing me, and I’ll show you just how serious I can be."

Plug Nanami: Who has this habit of brushing his fingers against yours when handing over your bag, just to see you react. And when you hesitate, he smirks. "What? You shy now? You weren’t shy last week when you were talking crazy to me."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask for recommendations, takes his time explaining the strains, his voice low and intimate like he’s telling you secrets no one else gets to hear. "This one’s for relaxing. But this one? This will have you feeling nice and warm. Could even help you sleep... if you’re alone."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hide his jealousy when he spots you dancing with some random dude at the club again. He doesn’t make a scene—he doesn’t have to. One hard look from across the room, and he has you second-guessing every move.

Plug Nanami: Who waits for you by the bar, calm but commanding, sipping his drink like he owns the place. When you finally approach him, he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Was that supposed to make me jealous? 'Cause all it did was remind me who you’re really coming home to."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just say things to say them—when he tells you, "You’re mine," he says it with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race, his hand resting lightly on your waist like a promise.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t let you forget who’s in control. When you try to test him, he tilts his head, studying you with those sharp eyes before muttering, "Careful, Y/N. You don’t want to see what happens when I lose my patience."

Plug Nanami: Who, when he finally breaks that calm exterior, has you pinned against the couch, his hands firm on your thighs. His voice drops an octave as he says, "You think you can tease me and get away with it? Let me show you how wrong you are."

Plug Nanami: Who has you breathless by the time he’s done with you, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers, "Next time, don’t make me wait. You know I’m not good at sharing."

Plug Nanami: Who, even after all that, stays to clean up and roll another joint for you, his demeanor back to calm and collected as if nothing happened. He hands it to you with a small smirk. "Don’t say I never take care of you, ma."

Plug Nanami: Who always makes you feel special, even in the smallest ways—like when he leaves your place, pressing a kiss to your forehead before saying, "Stay out of trouble. I’ll be back when you need me."

Plug Nanami: Who, despite his smooth and professional vibe, lets his street-smart edge show when it matters. Like when he rolls up late at night after you text him about some dude getting too friendly at the bar. He leans against his car, arms crossed, his tone deadly calm. "You good? Or you need me to handle something?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t flinch when you ask why he’s so quiet during his drops. Instead, he gives you a slow, knowing smirk. "Why talk when I can let my actions speak for me? You like what I bring, don’t you?"

Plug Nanami: Who, after spotting you dancing with another guy at the club when your out with your friends one night, waits for you outside like he’s completely unbothered. But the second you walk up to him; his voice is sharp. "Next time you feel like playing games, make sure I’m the one who gets to win."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you tease him for his clean-cut image, throws it right back. "Don’t get it twisted, Y/N. Just because I dress like this doesn’t mean I can’t get dirty when I need to."

Plug Nanami: Who finally snaps one night after you keep pushing his buttons, pinning you against the wall, his lips grazing your ear as he growls, "You like testing me, huh? Let me show you why that’s a bad idea."

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his car spotless, but when you ride with him, lets you kick off your shoes and play your music, saying, "Don’t get used to this. You’re lucky I like you."

Plug Nanami: Who always gives you the best quality, but one night, he surprises you with a strain he says is "special order." When you ask why he’s letting you try it first, he shrugs casually. "Because I know you appreciate the finer things. Just like me."

Plug Nanami: Who never loses his cool but lets his territorial side show in subtle ways. Like the way he casually slips his arm around your waist when you’re out, his grip firm enough to make anyone watching back off.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off weed—he becomes the only person you trust with your stash because everything he does is handled with precision. "You’re too good for anything less than perfect, Y/N," he says, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that makes you forget to breathe.

Plug Nanami: Who stays just long enough to remind you why he’s different. He doesn’t just pass the bag; he holds your gaze and leans in close, his voice low and deliberate. "Anything else you need tonight? You know I got you."

Plug Nanami: Who, after you’ve pushed him to his limit, leaves you breathless and spent, only to calmly adjust his hoodie and smirk down at you. "See? Told you not to test me."

Plug Nanami: Who, as he’s leaving, tosses a wrapped pre-roll on your table with a smirk. "That one’s on me. Thought you might need it after… all that.I'll be back later. I got another drop off"

[h0ney-mochi]

I'm thinking of a subby!xiao x dom!Afab!Reader, where it's xiao's first time and he starts crying because of the extreme pleasure he is receiving lmao

(I wanna hear his moans, whimpers, whines, crying, I wanna feel him squirming as he begs me to go faster on his cock lmao)

Anyways thanks! I hope you have a wonderful day :D

sub Xiao x dom afab!reader

SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (sub!xiao, dom!reader, afab!reader, riding, dacryphilia?, praise)

Summary: You've started being more intimate with Xiao a few months ago. Make-outs, some touching, but nothing too far... And then, one night, he tells you his thoughts on wanting to do more.

A/n: YR SO RIGHT... he'd be whimpering and whining for you to speed up, go harder, he wants more!!! <3 Hope you have a good day as well, anon! I haven't written in so fucking long that I'm scared this isn't that good... gosh help

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

It's another night of you and your lovely adeptus boyfriend. He's still not used to the title of that, especially when you run up to him muttering the words with a huge smile on your face. You've asked him if he's uncomfortable, that you can change the nickname up, that he can tell you if he doesn't like it— Before seeing the blush on his cheeks that he's trying very hard to hide. He'll say it's fine, avoiding your teasing gaze, not wanting to admit that he does like the name. Especially when it comes from your lips.

Another one of those nights of you laying in the grass, kicking your feet in the air while reading a book in the pale moonlight. Xiao is beside you, looking over the hill. It was calm and quiet. Occasionally, you could hear some bird making noise in the distance, but other than that, it was peaceful. You flip another page and smirk at a sentence.

Xiao has already moved his attention away from the fields, looking down at you now, watching your eyes move across the words on the page. He slightly furrows his eyebrows, deep in some thoughts. It's fascinating how you have so many sides to you. Just in the early morning of the same day, you had him against the wall, messily making out. And now you're giggling at a book you picked up from the library days prior.

He feels the same weird feeling in his stomach that he felt in the morning when you had your tongue down his throat. What was it? What is it? You two never went far. You guys started getting sort of intimate a few months ago, maybe. He was inexperienced. It all always was too much, making him light-headed. Even a slightly heavier make-out session was enough to make his knees buckle. He doesn't know if you've been with someone else before him... You do it so easily. You always take the lead. Is it because you've learned it with someone else or.. or...

Oh, how he wished he would be the first one.

"Xiao?" Your gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he meets your eyes. He stares at you for a moment before looking away, answering you with a simple 'What?'.

"You seem pretty deep in thought, something bothering you? Do you need to go already?" You ask him while sliding a bookmark on your page and closing the book. Xiao grunts, shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." You won't let that go. You sit up and scoot closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He moves his head to the side so you can lay yours comfortably. Your two fingers do a walk on his leg, and you smile. "Xiaooo," you drag out his name, chuckling at the end, "Tell me what's up."

Xiao sighs in annoyance, looking away. You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He tenses up and slowly turns his head to look down at you. He's met with your eyes already staring at him. "Come onnn, you know I won't judge," you continue your sentence. Xiao stares at you with an annoyed look. Some silence passes, and he blinks a few times before looking away again.

"It's nothing, I've just been thinking... about us. About what we... do." He finally says, absentmindedly moving his thumb against your hand. You hum in a bit of confusion before straightening your back, and he looks at you when you do that, eyes slightly widening in some fear. You take both of his hands in yours and look at him, "That's what's bothering you? Am I going too fast? I'm really sorry. You shouldn't keep these things to yourself, honey." You speak, furrowing your eyebrows, slightly chewing on your lip. Have you really been pushing too hard on him? Well, it would make sense that it would be too much for him... But it's the first time that he's bringing this up. How long has he been thinking like this?

"Oh, what? No, no, I-" Xiao's eyes widen at your words, and he quickly shakes his head, sighing again, "No, you got it wrong. You're not doing anything wrong, [name]. I was just thinking that..." I want you. I need you. I need more.

He feels his cheeks start to burn at his own thoughts. How is he supposed to say it out loud?

You stare at him with a tilted head. You try to think of what he's trying to tell you right now and make sure you won't be getting anything wrong, that you won't be misunderstanding... but his blush is really telling.

A small grin tugs at your lips. "You were thinking?" He swallows, breaking eye contact to look to the side. It's not like him to feel all flustered, but you always manage to mess with his head. Never in a million years would he admit to needing you in a way that is incredibly strange, at least to him. Yet you're willing to listen, you're grinning. You have a hunch on what he could say, and it makes him feel embarrassed.

"...That maybe we could..." He starts, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his mouth go dry. How is this so hard to say out loud?

He breathes in and then slowly exhales. Quickly glancing to you, he sees your grin. He's not sure if he should continue looking at you or look away — what can save him from these feelings right now?

"Maybe we could do... something more?" Xiao finally continues after a moment of silence. The way he worded it made him feel hot, nervousness creeping in. He starts to think again, staring in your eyes, of what you're going to say. Then he feels you squeeze his hands, and he feels his heart slowly slowing down. You let out a quiet chuckle before responding, "Yeah, we can. How far do you want me to go? Will you tell me when we're there?" He sits there, blinking at you. You hear him mutter an 'um...' and he's glancing to the side again.

"It's okay. You'll tell me when you'll need to then," You reassure him and lean in to give him a quick kiss. He feels your lips for a second, but before he can do anything back, you've already pulled away, and he feels some disappointment. You put your head back on his shoulder, speaking up again, "Just tell me when you want to try something more, or you want it to just happen in one of our moments?"

He moves his hand away from yours and coughs into it, not being able to handle your questions. How are they working him up already? Guess he's just letting his mind wander far too easily...

You noticed. Of course you did, so you spoke on it. Moving your head again, you lean into his ear and whisper, "Or do you want to do it right now?"

He lets out a breath before swallowing. It doesn't take long for him to reply, shaking his head up and down to your question. You let out a small laugh and move away, moving into his lap instead. You take your hand away from his and put both of them on the sides of his face, letting one move down to his neck and go further into his soft hair.

He stares at you with wide eyes, breathing through his mouth. He can't hide his nervousness. Or was it excitement? Neither of you knew right now.

He's already leaning closer to you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes, so you only do the same. You lean in and press your lips against his once again, and his hands freeze up for a moment, before he moves them to sit on your hips, gloved hands slightly digging into your clothing.

He kisses you back, letting his eyes close shut in the process. You move your lips against his, and you feel his mouth slightly part, and you take it as a chance to slide your tongue in. You move your thumb against his cheek while running your other hand through his hair. He sighs through his nose, kissing you back, slightly melting from it as you move your tongue. And he can't help, but imagine where else he could feel it..

His hands slightly tighten on your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. He needs you closer, closer... And you let him, shifting slightly in his lap so it's a bit more comfortable for you. And that's when you feel it.

You move your hand away from his hair and slowly run it down his neck to his chest, feeling his heart beat against it. Xiao makes a tiny sound when you move your hand further downwards over his stomach. You've always trailed your hand there, but it felt different this time. Probably because he said that the two of you could do something more, and you're moving towards said wish.

You smile against his mouth and pull away, earning a tiny whine from the man in front of you. His eyes widen as his own reaction, and he glances away. You tap his cheek with your thumb, and he looks back to your face. "Eyes on me," you whisper in a soft tone. The way he looks at you and the nod of his head makes your heart skip a beat. It was cute.

"You want me to go further, yeah?" You ask, and he nods again, not confident in his voice right now. You move your hand over his pants, slowly feeling him through the clothing, and you see his eyes slightly shutting before opening fully again. You're not doing a lot, just rubbing your hand up and down, feeling his dick pulse from your movements. Yet to him, it already feels a lot, but not enough. He tries to stay still, but as a small noise falls from his lips, he bucks his hips forward, trying to get more friction from your hand. You smile, and he stares back at you with pleading eyes.

In a quick movement, you pull your hand away, and he sighs at the loss. But you had other plans anyway. Using both of your hands, you push on his chest, making him fall down onto the grass beneath the two of you. Xiao watches your movements as he props himself up with his elbows, wondering what you've got in mind for him. He's met with your eyes that seem to have a dark glint within them. Your fingers hook onto his pants, and you're slowly pulling down his clothing, making him jump slightly. It wasn't that cold, but if you're showing lots of bare skin, it does send a few chills down your body.

The flush on his cheeks gets darker as he realizes just how excited he's got from you, but he doesn't dare to look away, no — he needs to see what you're going to do.

You don't make him wait, immediately moving your hand over his underwear, wrapping your hand around his hard-on. Slowly moving your hand, same motions as before, just with a slightly tighter grip. You move your head down and leave a small kiss at the top of his clothed dick and he pulses in your hand. Hearing his breathing get shaky already makes you only wonder - how is he going to sound when he actually feels you?

"[name], please..." You hear him quietly speak, letting out a breath right after, "Can you...?" You lid your eyes at him, asking with a smirk, "Can I what?" He balls his hands into fists, knowing very well that you were teasing him.

"Please, you know- you know what I mean.." He mumbles, slightly moving his hips. You let out a small laugh, nodding. You pull his underwear out of the way, further down his legs, and he shivers from the cool air hitting his dick, getting some goosebumps in the process.

Wrapping your fingers around him again, you feel his warmth on your palm. You let some of your spit fall on his dick and you start jerking him off. Xiao lets out a moan, immediately jumping at the sensation. You kiss his tip before leaning away and climbing on top of his body. One hand bent enough so you can still jack him off, you put your other hand on the grass next to him, so you wouldn't fall over. He's the one to kiss you first, already opening his mouth for you.

It doesn't take that long for him to already start moving his hips in the same motion as your hand, hands gripping at the grass and loud moans spilling in your mouth, getting swallowed down by you. From the way he's reacting and getting more desperate, you could tell he was close.

So you slowed down your hand, and oh boy, the disappointed moan he let out in your mouth made butterflies fly in your stomach.

You pulled away from his lips, and he opened his eyes to stare at you, confusement visible in his expression. "Why- why did you stop?" He asked, but then his question was answered once he saw you pulling down your own pants, along with your underwear. His mind doesn't process what's happening right now until you're towering over him again, rubbing his dick against yourself. That sends a spark through his body, and he whines, breathing heavily. And then you look at him.

"Is this okay?" You ask, teasing his tip with your fingers, and he only nods in response. "Can you say it out loud?" You tilt your head at him and watch him stutter. "I mean- Yes, it's fine- okay-" Xiao speaks, eyes darting between your face and his dick, "Please-"

And then you lowered yourself down on him, moving your hands on his chest. Xiao's breath gets caught in his throat, and he goes quiet, mouth agape. It was fairly easy to take him in since his reactions and noises always made you get wet. Still, it felt foreign since this is the first time both of you are going to enjoy each other. Your hands clutch onto his clothes as you let out a soft moan, fully sitting down on his lap. It felt nice.

Xiao, on the other hand, was digging his hands in the grass, plucking a few off the ground from the harsh grip. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising from a few quick breaths. Oh, you were so warm, he was inside of you, oh dear Archons, he was inside of you. Holy fuck.

You move a hand up to cup his cheek, making him zone back into your eyes. In a gentle voice, you ask, "Are you alright?" He nods slowly, unable to form proper words. And you take that as your cue to start moving. Using the strength you had in your legs, you lift yourself off his lap, leaving the tip of his dick inside you, before moving back down, slightly hitting his stomach. Xiao groans, his eyes almost closing from the feeling.

"You- you're so warm... You feel so-" He chokes out, interrupting himself with a shaky breath, "So good, fuck." You smile and grip onto his clothing, riding him at a quicker pace now. Xiao's back arched, and he let out a gasp. His hands shot up to your waist, holding on for dear life as you moved up and down his dick, moaning in the process.

He can't stop his noises now, that's for sure.

"Fuck, ah, you're- fuck, you're so warm, gaH—!" He whines, digging his hands into your skin, "Please- please go f-faster, [name], please..." You lie down on his chest, pressing your head into the crook of his neck and did as he begged. Crashing your hips up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin, combining that with the pure pleasure... Xiao couldn't hold back. His head falls back against the grass and moans flow freely from his throat as he tries to calm down. He feels tears prick at his eyes and his fingers dig harder in your waist, toes curling against the ground.

It felt so, so fucking good.

And then you moaned in his ear, and his eyes shot open towards the night sky. You moved one hand under his shirt, trailing it up his chest as you continued your movements on his dick. Through your moans, you managed to let out some proper words. "You like that? That feels good, doesn't it?"

He tries to nod, but he can't move from the pleasure, pressing the back of his head down against the ground. "Yes, ah-! Yes, feels good, fuck, feels good, feels so, so fucking good- Please, please-"

He's not sure what he's begging for, but he needs it, and he wants it so bad. He sniffles, feeling tears leave his eyes. There's something building up inside him, and he needs that release, whatever it is — he needs you to free him.

Your lips meet his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Your hips slap against his stomach, the noise from your wetness making it sound so much louder. Both your moans are mixing together, yet Xiao's are so much louder than yours. He's already sensitive, but he does not want to pull away, he can't, he feels something, he doesn't know what it is, but he fucking needs it. And so he begs with tears falling down his cheeks.

"Please, fuck- Please, I need- I need to- Fuck, [name], please, I want to- Haah- [name], please—!" Xiao moans out, his hands digging harder, daring to leave bruises on your skin and you groan in response, biting down on his neck.

"Mhm, you can do it, come on-" You say, detaching from his neck and straightening your back, quickly moving your hips ups and down, feeling your legs starting to sting, "Make me proud, Xiao. You're- fuck, you're doing so, so good."

And that's enough to have him snap. His eyes shut close, pushing more tears out, and his head falls back again. His dick pulses in you and you smile, staring down at his fucked out face. Wet streaks illuminated by the moonlight. His tight grip on your hips slightly loosens as he cums, letting out a sharp gasp. You don't stop yet, still trying to reach your own high and he slightly trembles beneath you, letting out broken moans.

His eyes are blurry and his mouth is dry, his heart is racing and he's sensitive. When you finally lean down to his face, it takes a bit for him to focus in on you. "Xiao?" Your voice sounds slightly distant, followed by a small chuckle, "Did that feel good, baby boy?"

He feels a small smile tug at his lips. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, thumb brushing away his tears. He kisses back with the energy he still has left, and he meets your eyes when you pull away. He looked so pretty in the moonlight. His face was messy, red eyeliner stains, wet streaks from his tears...

"Yeah," his voice feels sore, "It did."

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3

© h0ney-mochi 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[setmeatopthepyre]

i've just. been thinking about this scene from chimney begins a lot, especially in relation to the bucktommy break up.

in this episode, the changing relationship between chimney and the general population of the 118 is shown through his (attempts at) interaction with tommy. so this conversation he has with eli is as much about 'the other firefighters' in general as it is about how tommy has been treating chim.

and there's... something there in the 'you don't name it until you know it'll pull through' and the 806 breakup in which neither tommy nor buck say the words i love you but they do say pretty much everything else. it feels like they've both been hurt before by this thing called love that might make it feel like they're pushing their luck to name it. and there's something there in tommy ending things before buck can hurt him.

and then there's this:

and there's something there in buck looking at tommy and thinking, wow, he's so cool, he's so confident, (he has a cleft), he's so comfortable with who he is and that makes me feel comfortable.

eli tells chim: [switching to my quick attempts at gifs here bc the text is spread out over so many shots otherwise]

and what eli's saying is: feeling like a hero isn't enough. it can be your motivation to start, but it can't be the only thing that keeps you going. you can't always be a hero. no one can. everyone is flawed and everyone's gonna slip up. there's a darkness, and if you don't account for that, you're going to run into the hard things, the things you can't solve by being a hero, the things you have to struggle through, change your perspective for. if you try to ignore those things, you're going to learn some really tough lessons really fast.

and I'm thinking about tommy and buck not knowing the details of each others' pasts, being maybe a little too comfortable with how comfortable they were, enjoying that honeymoon phase rush and thrill, not really having dug into the darkness. they learn some tough lessons really fast.

tommy leaves buck. they both didn't name the puppy. (it still hurts)

chimney loses kevin. he faces the hard, dark parts of this path he's chosen and he chooses to continue anyway. because of this, he's is in the right place at the right time to save tommy's life.

[elvensorceress]

very late wip wednesday that is not wednesday at all I'm sorry but have snickerdoodles of longing?

@daisyssousa @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz @hippolotamus @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @singitforthegirls @bekkachaos @sunflower-eddiediaz @hotshotsxyz @epicbuddieficrecs @daffi-990 @blutterlie @exhuastedpigeon @thelikesofus @livinginsunnyhell 💕 On your left you will see ridiculous pining idiots sharing a bed and being oblivious 👍 and Eddie being Completely Normal about Buck having Feelings(tm) for someone…

Buck lies down and turns onto his side toward Eddie. “Just in my head.”

Eddie reaches out and runs his fingertips along Buck’s forehead. “You still thinking about the breakup? Because he wasn’t good enough for you. No one is. You deserve someone who gets how special you are. You’re a catch.”

Buck huffs but the hint of a smile touches him. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Haven’t thought about him in a while actually.”

That’s something at least. “Good. He didn’t know how lucky he was.”

Eddie doesn’t know why other than his constant urge to be affectionate especially when someone needs cheering up, but as soon as he thinks about how he should withdraw and stop touching Buck, his hand has other ideas. And he has to dip his fingers into Buck’s curls and rub his head.

They’re so soft and so perfect at this length. They could even be longer and Eddie could bury his hand in more of them. 

The look Buck gives him is too piercing. For a second, it strikes through Eddie like lightning. But it’s gone in the next instant. 

Buck noticeably swallows hard. “I don’t know. Maybe he was unlucky.”

“If you’re going to insult my best friend,” Eddie warns and contemplates making a fist in Buck’s hair for emphasis on the warning. He doesn’t. But he does think about it. 

“No, I didn’t mean like that.” Buck leans into Eddie’s hand and smiles, just a little. “Not, ‘he’s so unlucky being with me’ but like, what if— what if he was right? When he said he knew he wasn’t my last. What if he saw something? Or noticed something?”

Eddie’s thumb wanders and brushes over Buck’s cheekbone, all absentminded instinct. “What kind of something?” 

Buck’s eyes flutter and close for a moment before he takes Eddie’s hand and holds it still against his own chest. “S-so-something like, something I didn’t know. Or didn’t realize. I didn’t know I liked him at first. I had no idea that’s what I was feeling. And— a-and what if that happened again? What if he knew I wanted someone else? Or that I have feelings for someone who isn’t him? And that’s how he knew he wasn’t my last.” 

Someone else? 

There’s someone else? 

Eddie doesn’t know why. But he can’t breathe. Or move. He looks at his own hand, happily, eagerly pressed to Buck’s chest over his heart. “You—” he says but loses the rest of the words. All he can do is echo. “Someone else? There’s someone? A new someone? Another someone?”

Buck shrugs, waves it off, doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “N-no. No, but. I don’t know. Hypothetically. I guess. What if that were the case? What if that’s what he thought? And that’s why he ended it.”

What if his ex thought Buck wanted someone else and that’s why he got dumped? It’s plausible? The more concerning thing about this however is, “You’re not thinking about calling him again. Are you? You’re not going to try and get back with him? Please tell me that’s not what this is. You’ve been working so hard. We’ve baked so many things.”

Buck turns pink and shakes his head. “No, that’s not— it’s not what I mean. That’s not the point. He’s not the point. I was just wondering, you know? Since he realized I was crushing on him but totally unaware of it. Maybe it happened again. Maybe he knew before I did. What I feel. In theory, I mean. He knew I have feelings for someone else, so he had to break it off. So— s-so? That would make the whole situation unlucky. For him. Or both of us. If we were both having unrequited feelings for different people.”

That’s— sensible? Also so much to think about. How can Eddie think about any of it. How can there be another person already? That’s three in less than a year. Eddie’s had three relationships in his whole life. How does anyone manage feeling like that? Feeling and then not feeling or feeling something else while still stuck in the first feeling or trying so hard to feel something when there were no feelings whatsoever and you were already thinking that feelings were horrible— it’s too much. Way too complicated. “I guess. That would be unlucky.”

“Right? Unlucky.” Buck nods. Somehow with the energy of a nervous, twitchy squirrel. 

“Is there someone else? Another someone?” Eddie asks again. Because he can’t stop thinking he’s also missed something. Or everything. When did Buck meet someone new? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned? Why, again, are they back to crushes and this person I just met five seconds ago really sees me and unrequited— wait. “There is someone. How would you know it’s unrequited unless you have someone specific in mind?”

Buck lets go of Eddie’s hand. In fact, he moves Eddie’s hand back to his side of the bed and then deliberately lets go of it. “I was just wondering. It’s hypothetical. There isn’t anyone. I’m tired, aren’t you tired? We should sleep, yeah? Goodnight, Eds.” He turns away and switches off the lights and stays on his side with his back to Eddie.

Eddie pokes him in the back where he’s sensitive and ticklish. “You’re a fucking terrible liar.”

Buck bats his hand away and yawns. “Aaahhhmmmm not. So sleepy. Not lying. Sleeping.” 

Are they the fourteen year olds now? Eddie tugs the blankets around himself and wriggles on his back to get comfortable. “Whatever. You brought it up.”

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[almostloverboy]

It was your first time going to your roommate, Tommy’s, gym. You felt a flash of thrill come up your chest as your hand touched the handle and pulled the front door open. You still weren’t passing very well yet, nor were you out to anyone but Tommy, so going to an all men’s gym was something that made your stomach churn. Tommy had told you to walk straight back to the locker room, that he would tell the front desk to expect you on his visitors pass. Just as your hand absentmindedly went to touch the badge hanging off the waistband of your sweats, you made eye contact with the attendant at the front desk. He eyed you suspiciously, but you guessed that your freshly buzzed hair and excessively baggy sweatshirt gave him a clue. He pursed his lips but with a swift nod of his head directed you back to the locker room.

There was only one, and Tommy said he’d meet you in it. When you walked in, you immediately caught sight of his bulky frame casually draped over with some towels coming out of the sauna. His skin practically glowed and you had to take a moment to really appreciate the sea of various gorgeous bodies following suit. There were some guys wrapped in towels as they came out Some guys were brazenly naked, showing off their bare chests or horizontal scars and tdicks and happy trails. The next thing you knew, Tommy was grabbing you by the shoulder. "Admiring the view?" He snickered and you can feel blush burn your cheeks. Maybe you were being a little too obvious with your staring.

Tommy took you to the back, where there were some free lockers. He took your bag and shoved it in, then turned to you expectantly. His arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for a petulant child. "Well? Strip." You shook your head vigorously and tried to sputter off some excuse about being shy but Tommy was having none of it. "It's just guys here. No need to be weird about it. Nobody's looking but you." Your flush grows hotter but you know Tommy well enough to know that he won't let you weasel out of this so easily. So you drop your sweats, exposing the jock strap you were wearing underneath. What could you say? You were trying something out and your jaw dropped when you saw yourself in the mirror. It made you really feel like a guy. Tommy seemed equally impressed, but was much more fixated on your bare ass. "C'mon. All of it." He muttered breathlessly.

When you glanced over to make sure that there was, in fact, no one watching you strip, you noticed a couple of guys looking over your way. When you caught their eyes, each of their lips pulled up into a playful smirk. One guy whose lower half was covered up by a large gym towel started adjusting it while holding your gaze, opening it just slightly. Maybe it was to show solidarity, but you couldn't take your eyes off where you'd seen the glimpse of his hard cock. You couldn't help but imagine how long he'd been on T to be that big. Like they had a mind of their own, your hands started to pull off your sweatshirt and shirt in one go. You don't even bother to shove it into your locker, it just drops to the floor.

As soon as your taped chest is exposed, you feel Tommy's hands on your now bare hips. You start to move to cover yourself, hyper aware of all of the sexy guys staring you down and just how much more... Like men they looked. As if he could read your mind, Tommy spoke up as he moved to stand behind you. "Whadya think, guys? He's comin' along quite nicely, huh?" You hear a general murmur of agreement that makes you want to cringe away from all the eyes on you, but Tommy grabs your wrists and holds them behind you. You can feel his crotch push up against your bare ass, only shielded by the scratchy white towel.

"I bet those growing pains are a killer." You hear one guy mutter. Another nudges a friend: "You can already see some hair on his stomach." Finally, one guy takes the first step towards you and you're drooling. He's a big guy, and you can tell he spends every day at this gym because his arms make you want to lick them like ice cream. Your knees almost buckle at the sight of his bare body in front of you, but he smiles kindly. "Don't worry, we'll turn you into a real man here. You'll only look like a twinky little fag for a couple'a months more. Soon you'll be a muscular little fag."

The Adonis looks over at Tommy, as if asking permission. You can't see his response, but the guy's arm darts out to snap the elastic of your jock strap, earning him a sharp yelp and your voice cracks. You were surprised, you didn't think your voice had changed at all yet, but some of the guys grinned knowingly. "See? It's workin' already."

Tommy started to tug you toward the showers, and you noticed that there weren't even any walls or curtains between each shower head. There was already someone in there, he was leaning his head back in the stream and sighing as his fingers slid in and out of his cunt. You thought Tommy might notice the interruption and go someplace with some more privacy, but you also guessed after using you as a show for his friends, he didn't have much shame back here. "Hey Jack, why don't you show my roommate here how things go back here?"

The guy only opened his eyes just to roll them in Tommy's direction, but he seemed to comply. "Damn, did you tell him what was happening? This is quite the little outfit he has on. Practically begging to be used..." You can feel Tommy's hands let go of you as Jack ushers you to take over the shower stream he'd been occupying. "Don' worry, I'll be gentle." He muttered as he got to his knees in front of you. The steaming hot water hit your back and you couldn't help but relax at the feeling. It was nice. Jack leads one of your hands to grab at his tits, and your other hand is led back to your ass. "Lube will make the next bit more fun. It's in the dispenser next to you." He said like he'd done it a million times before. Maybe he had.

"I called dibs, Jack, don't use him up yet." As your lubed up fingers slide into your ass, you hear Tommy's voice ring out. You can hardly see him among all the steam, but you can tell he's close to you. "I get to break him in."

[writersdare]

You Should Always Come First | Bang Chan 방찬 Drabble

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Chan could no longer watch Y/N exhausting herself.

Warning: fluff

Word Count: 688 (drubble)

Author’s Note:  For those who are worried about an upcoming exam, test or a job interview. You can do it, don't doubt yourself ♡

“Baby, what is it?” 

Chan has noticed Y/N being rather tense that evening, yet, he didn’t want to get on her nerves with the same questions, as he pretty much knew the main reason of his girlfriend’s mood — the upcoming exams. Even though Bang Chan was sure that Y/N would pass them well, he could understand Y/N’s concerns. It’s never easy to be confident in your own abilities in general, and being under a stress it felt  almost impossible at all. The idol learnt it from his own experience. 

Chan understood that words such as "it’ll be alright" and "you know the material well, don’t worry" wouldn’t help much. Of course, support was important, yet, in the moments, when everything felt like a bare wire, each phrase should have been chosen very carefully. He didn’t want to give Y/N even more pressure — she was giving it enough herself. Chan tried his best just by saying small "don’t be harsh on yourself", "don’t forget to rest" and "I know you work hard, and it’s way more important than the result". 

Yet, when he saw that Y/N was getting angry at herself for not being able to learn important terms once again, the guy decided it was time to interfere. Her brain simply refused to accept new information, as it simply had enough today. And yesterday, and the day before yesterday… His girl needed a break. 

“It’s nothing, just can’t memorise it. I don’t know how I’m going to pass it,” Y/N sighed and closed the eyes, trying to keep herself together. 

“Let’s get some rest, it’s been a while," Chan said softly. “I’ll help you to learn it after a break, okay?” he promised and stood up from his place to take a seat next to the girl. They were in his studio, but while Y/N was studying, the idol couldn’t  really concentrate on music the last thirty minutes, being too worried for the girl. She’s been exhausting herself lately, and all Bang Chan cared about was Y/N’s well-being.

“You’re doing great, I promise,” the guy gently cuddled Y/N, trying to soothe her. Finally relaxing a bit, she went a little numb in his embrace and placed a head on Chan’s shoulder. 

“I know rest is important. It’s just… I don’t have time. The exams are in few days, and it seems like I still don’t know anything,” Y/N admitted quietly, at the same time hating herself for the recent complaining.

“Learn as much as you can, but don’t exhaust yourself. It’ll make things only worse, Y/N," Chan reminded and patted her head lightly. "And just a lunch break isn’t enough. Let’s spend this evening together, not thinking of anything, okay? Tomorrow will be a new day, and you can start again," the idol pecked her cheek tenderly.

The girl sighed and nodded,

"Channie? I’m sorry I was a bit gloomy lately. I didn’t mean it like this. It’s just… the exams–" after a moment of silence she quietly mumbled, but Bang Chan didn’t let her finish.

"I know. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. And I know it’s not easy to get distracted, when all you can think about is your exam. I don’t mean to say it’s not important, you put value on it for a reason, yet, I don’t want you to forget that it’s not the only thing that matters. You should always come first," he smiled and lightly tickled her, so the girl shivered, and a quiet giggle left her lips – she was extremely bad when it came to tickling. However, Chan was no better. "Got it?"

"Mhm. I like how you can be serious for only few minutes, and then you are back to your normal self" Y/N joked and shrieked, when the idol tickled her side once again.

"Yah! I can be very serious, when it’s needed! Do you doubt me?!" the guy jokingly outraged, feeling a warmth spreading all over his body. He missed her sincere smile and silly little giggles. After all, it’s all what he needed now.

– photos and a gif aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, gif found here @chanstopher –

taglist: @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @skz-streamer

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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[levisjinchuriki]

open arms - chapter 2

summary: you feel like a burden, leeching off of kento's kindness. he assures you he's more than happy to care for you

warning: angst, kento being a good friend, pregnancy, ex is a cheater, mention of depression and crying

when you wake the next morning, there’s a moment where the heaviness hasn’t caught up to you yet. for a few seconds, you feel at peace, like your world didn’t just crumble around you. you allow yourself to pretend that nothing has changed—that yesterday never happened, that you’re not standing on the edge of something you can’t even fathom.

but then it hits you. this isn’t your apartment. the walls are unfamiliar, the furniture not quite right, and everything is just a little too quiet. your breath catches as the memories flood back: the anger, the betrayal, the way your heart had splintered into a thousand jagged pieces. the man you thought you were going to marry one day—your best friend, your partner, the one who was supposed to be your forever—cheated on you. 

and now, as if the pain of the betrayal wasn’t enough, there’s something else—something you can’t ignore. the undeniable truth that you’re carrying his child. it’s not just the loss of trust—it’s the life growing inside you, the reminder of what was supposed to be and what now feels like a cruel twist of fate. the tears begin to sting behind your eyes, but before the panic can fully set in, you hear a soft knock at the door, and it pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

"y/n?" nanami’s voice is gentle, careful, as though he’s aware of the delicate space you’re in. "i didn’t want to wake you too early. i just made some tea... whenever you’re ready”.

right—you're in nanami’s home. it’s a place you’ve been to countless times throughout your friendship, and it’s always brought you peace. but even then, you can’t shake the thought of yesterday. it’s there, haunting you in the corners of your mind. 

you take a deep breath, gathering yourself. for a moment, you close your eyes, trying to find some kind of balance. it’s hard, but you can’t stay in bed forever, can’t let it swallow you whole.

with some effort, you sit up. your muscles protest, the tiredness of your body not quite matching the urgency of your mind. standing feels like a small victory in itself. 

when you open the door, nanami is standing on the other side. his eyes—the ones that always seem to see right through you—scan your face, taking in the exhaustion, the sadness, the lingering pain that’s still so visible even when you try to hide it. he watches you with a tenderness that makes your chest ache, a heaviness that makes it harder to keep the walls up.

"good morning" he says, his voice low, but it’s not just the greeting. it’s an offering—one that’s soft and unassuming, as if he’s letting you choose how to accept it. after a brief pause, he adds, "did you sleep well?".

you hesitate. the lie is right there, waiting on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. not to him. not now. you don’t even know if you’re capable of pretending you’re okay.

"better than i thought i would" you admit, your voice a bit hoarse, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. there’s no point in hiding, not with nanami. his patience, his quiet understanding, has always made it easier to be honest, even when you didn’t have the words for it.

he nods, his movement slow and deliberate, as if to say i understand, even when nothing more needs to be said. it’s enough. you don’t have to explain further.

he steps aside and gestures for you to follow him. you do, letting him guide you into the kitchen. nanami pulls a chair out for you and sets a cup of tea in front of you, along with a small plate of toast and fruit. it’s simple, but there’s a comfort you hadn’t realized you were craving. he doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t push you to talk or pretend to be okay. instead, he waits, silently offering what he can—small acts of care that feel like they’ve become lifelines in a world that’s no longer familiar.

you’re grateful for it—the thoughtfulness, the quietness of the moment, the sense of normalcy in this space. it’s a modest gesture, but it feels like something more, like nanami’s way of telling you that, even when the world is falling apart, you don’t have to navigate it alone.

nanami joins you at the table, his own cup of tea cradled between his hands. he gives you the space you need, knowing that sometimes silence is what heals the most. there’s no rush, no pressure—just the sound of the tea gently streaming, the soft scrape of a chair, and the gentle hum of the morning outside.

you wrap your hands around the warm cup, letting its heat seep into your palms, grounding you in the moment. the stillness between you is peaceful. it’s a kind of unspoken understanding. nanami doesn’t demand anything from you—not words, not explanations, not even a smile. 

you look up at him, your gaze meeting his. there’s something in his expression that makes you feel centered. "thank you” you manage to whisper. your voice carries the weight of everything you mean but can’t fully express—for being here, for being patient, for seeing me when i feel so lost. it’s simple, but those two words feel like they hold the universe in them.

nanami’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his features gentle, patient. he doesn’t say anything at first, just gives you a small, comforting nod that seems to melt away the tension you didn’t realize is in your shoulders. “you don’t need to thank me” he says, his tone as gentle as ever, like he’s trying to ease the burden off of you, one word at a time. they sink in deeply. you hadn’t realized how much you needed this—how much you needed someone to just be there for you. no judgments or expectations. he walls you’ve so carefully built around yourself start to crumble, one brick at a time. 

you take a sip of your tea to keep yourself from crying. the heat of the cup soothes some of the tension that’s still clinging to your body, and for a moment, you let yourself focus on that–just the tea, your breathing, and the calmness of nanami’s home.

you don’t know where to begin, or even how to talk about everything that’s weighing on your heart. the thought of it all feels overwhelming, like there are too many pieces to sort through, too many emotions tangled together. but you don’t have to rush, you remind yourself. not here. not with nanami.

he isn’t pressing you for answers, or even asking you to speak before you’re ready. he’s just here– like he always has been– offering his silent support. 

“i don’t know how to move forward from this” you finally say, your voice fragile and unsure. you hadn’t even realized how much you were holding in until the words slipped out.

nanami doesn’t respond right away. he takes a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. you can see him considering your words, weighing them carefully.

“you don’t have to have it all figured out right now” he says gently, his voice smooth and warm like the tea in your hands. “one step at a time. i’ll be here with you”.

there’s no pressure, no judgment, just a quiet understanding that you don’t have to have all the answers today—or tomorrow, or the next day. the future feels uncertain, heavy with all the things you’re still processing, but nanami ensures that you don’t have to carry it all alone. his promise, though unspoken in many ways.

you’re still scared. still unsure of what the future holds. but knowing that nanami will be here, supporting you through the unknown, makes the uncertainty feel just a little more bearable. and somehow, that small bit of comfort feels like the first step toward finding your way forward.

—

the weekend flies by in a blur of quiet conversations and moments of fragile peace. each day, nanami has quietly anchored you, making sure to prepare your tea every morning just as he had the first day. it becomes a small ritual, a daily reminder that, despite everything, there’s someone who cares deeply for you.

monday morning arrives, and nanami wakes up early to prepare for his workday. he moves about the house with ease, making sure to leave some tea for you when you’re ready. he doesn’t wake you, not wanting to disrupt your rest.

when you eventually rise, you take your time, not burdened by the usual rush of responsibilities. the absence of urgency feels strangely comforting, a small relief from the chaos of the past week. you shuffle to the kitchen, expecting to find nanami there, as you have each morning. but as you enter the room, the sight of the empty space sends a pang of unease through you.

the kitchen, which had been a place of warmth and reassurance, now feels eerily quiet. his absence makes you feel abandoned, as if the stability he offered was just another illusion. the sense of being alone again, even if only temporarily, is a harsh reminder of the upheaval you’ve been through.

but then, your eyes fall on a note left on the counter. it’s a simple piece of paper, folded neatly with a few words written in nanami’s familiar handwriting. your heart skips a beat, and you slowly make your way toward it, hesitant yet hopeful. 

good morning. breakfast is in the fridge for you. help yourself to anything in the pantry for lunch. i’ll make dinner when i get back from work

relief washes over you as you read the words. it’s simple, but it’s everything you need to hear. nanami hadn’t forgotten about you, hadn’t left you behind, even though his absence had made the world feel a little colder. he’s reminded you that he’s there—that he hasn’t gone anywhere for too long, and that you still have a place here.

you set the note down on the counter, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. the knot in your stomach loosens slightly. the tea on the counter, still steaming softly, feels like a promise—a continuation of the quiet support he’s shown you all weekend.

nanami is giving you so much—his time, his patience, his space—and he’s doing it freely, without expecting anything in return. and yet, with every act of kindness, discomfort begins to settle in your chest. you’re accumulating a debt, one you’re not sure how to repay. the more he gives, the more you feel the inability to contribute anything back. you’ve already been a burden, and nanami’s unwavering generosity only builds on that guilt. he doesn’t expect anything in return, you know that much, but the awareness of your own struggles makes you feel as though you’re taking more than you deserve.

your heart aches with the weight of his selflessness, and a small, uncomfortable knot forms in your stomach. how long can you lean on his goodwill before it becomes too much? how long before you start feeling like you’re taking advantage of the very person who’s trying to help you heal?

you know, deep down, that nanami doesn’t see it that way. that his kindness is rooted in genuine care, not in some expectation of repayment. but it’s hard to shake the feeling that, with every ounce of support he gives, you’re only growing more distant from the person you used to be—the person who could stand on her own, who could offer something in return.

—

the thought of being a burden torments you all day. you hate that you’ve come here, unannounced and vulnerable, relying on nanami’s generosity.

you stare down at your plate, your appetite fading as the tightness in your chest grows heavier. nanami is so calm, so patient, but it doesn’t stop the gnawing feeling that you’re taking advantage of him. the kindness he’s shown feels almost too much—like you’re asking for more than he should be willing to give. 

when you finally speak, your voice is steady but carries an underlying uncertainty. “i should probably start apartment hunting soon”. it’s a statement meant to feel like control, like you’re taking the reins back and stepping away from the safety net he’s built for you. it’s the only way you can think of to make yourself feel less like a burden.

his reaction is immediate. his eyes flick to you, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimpse of concern that softens his usual calm demeanor. he sets his fork down slowly, his expression turning serious, almost stern. the shift in his mood is enough to make your heart skip a beat. y

“apartment hunting?” he repeats, his tone carrying a clear note of disapproval. it catches you off guard, making you second-guess yourself. “why do you feel like you need to rush into that?”. his voice holds a protectiveness that makes you feel vulnerable, as if he’s trying to shield you from something more than just an apartment search.

you feel the need to justify yourself, to make him understand that you’re not trying to push him away, but instead trying to stand on your own. “i don’t want to overstay my welcome” you say, your voice softer now. “you’ve done so much for me already. it’s only fair that i find my own place and start getting things back to normal”.

your words hang in the air between you, thick with tension. nanami doesn’t speak right away, and the silence stretches longer than you anticipated. what does he think? does he feel like you’re ungrateful? does he think you’re pushing him away?

nanami’s response is firm, his brow furrowing as he shakes his head slightly, as if he can’t quite comprehend why you would even consider feeling that way. “you don’t need to do that” he says. it’s clear now that this isn’t about the apartment. this is about you. he’s not just worried about the logistics of finding a place for you to stay; he’s worried about you—the emotional weight you’re carrying, the sense of being overwhelmed, and the stress of rushing into decisions that might add to that burden. his concern goes far beyond what you’ve said, and in his eyes, you see a determination to help you feel grounded again.

the words spill out before you can stop them, a raw confession that makes your throat tighten. “i just feel like a leech” you admit, the shame evident in your voice.

nanami’s expression hardens instantly, and a flicker of something protective passes through his gaze. he leans forward slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, intense and unwavering. his warning look is sharp.

“don’t” he warns, his voice low and stern. “you’re not leeching off of me. stop calling yourself that”.  you feel a lump form in your throat. his gaze doesn’t soften, though his tone shifts slightly, filled with a kind of quiet authority. “you’re going through a difficult time. the last thing you need is to add guilt on top of everything else”. nanami wants to make you understand that his support comes without strings attached. there’s no condition, no expectation of repayment. he’s not helping you because he has to. he’s helping you because he wants to. it’s a reminder that you don’t need to apologize for leaning on him. that he’s here because he genuinely wants to be, and that your well-being is what matters most to him right now.

“i’m sorry” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him. “i just… i don’t want to take advantage of you”. nanami shakes his head.

“you’re not” he says firmly. “don’t apologize for something you haven’t done. you’re here because you need to be. and that’s all that matters”. you take a deep breath, feeling a little lighter. nanami’s words have given you a bit of space to breathe—to stop thinking of his kindness like it’s something you need to repay immediately.

you nod slowly. you’ve been carrying this sense of guilt, as if you’re taking up space in his life that you shouldn’t, as though your presence here is a burden you need to quickly relieve. but nanami’s words cut through that, helping you see that it’s not about what you owe him or how much you think you’re taking. 

“but i can’t stay here forever” you say, your voice soft, almost fragile. nanami pauses again, his expression shifting into one of quiet seriousness. his brows furrow ever so slightly as his eyes meet yours, searching. 

“why not?” he asks. the question is simple, but the force of it catches you off guard. it’s not harsh, not challenging—but there’s something in his tone, a genuine curiosity, that makes you hesitate. the question lingers in the air, and for a moment, you’re lost for words. your brows furrow in response, trying to make sense of the jumble of emotions inside you. his simple question feels like an unspoken challenge—one you hadn’t expected to face. 

“kento…” you say. “i appreciate everything you’ve done for me. i really do. but i can’t. it’s not fair to you”. nanami’s expression remains neutral, unaffected by your words. he holds your gaze with unwavering seriousness, as though he’s ready to stand firm against whatever comes next, regardless of what you say.

“let me be the judge of what’s fair. you’re not a burden. and you’re not inconveniencing me. if you think you’re taking too much, then you’re missing the point. i’m offering this because i want to. you don’t need to protect me from your struggles”. you want to argue, to insist that there’s no way you can continue to rely on him like this, but his faith in his own decision softens the urge to fight back.

you feel a tear slip down your cheek, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming release of emotions you’ve kept bottled up for so long. the kindness he’s shown, the way he’s been so patient with you, is more than you’ve allowed yourself to accept from anyone in a long time.

“thank you” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “for everything”.

nanami’s hand moves across the table, his fingers brushing gently against yours. “you don’t have to thank me” he says softly, his voice calm and warm. “i want you to feel safe. that’s all”. the words, simple as they are, sink deep into your heart. for a moment, the weight of everything doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. the fear, the guilt, the uncertainty—they’re still there, lurking in the background, but they don’t feel as insurmountable as they did before. nanami’s offer to stay, to support you, to give you space to heal at your own pace—it makes all the difference.

with a deep breath, you let go of the guilt and allow yourself to rest in the comfort of his words. “i think i could use some more time if that’s okay” you admit.

nanami nods, his expression softening with approval. “take all the time you need” he 

you find yourself accepting his offer with a small “okay”. the word feels like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, a step toward acknowledging that you don’t have to face everything alone. you feel a shift within yourself, a subtle sense of release, as though something heavy has started to ease from your chest. the fear of burdening him, the anxiety of being a disruption, all of it begins to dissipate. nanami’s offer isn’t just about providing a roof over your head—it’s about creating a space where you don’t have to be anything but yourself.

he doesn’t wait for you to say more, respecting the silence that follows your acceptance. instead, he stands and quietly moves to gather the dishes. it’s a small act, but it feels like another way he’s showing his care, his willingness to shoulder whatever parts of this journey he can.

nanami doesn’t push for more conversation, but his presence is constant. there’s no pressure to talk about anything, no urgency to solve any problems or rush into decisions. he just lets you be. 

you sit on the couch and allow yourself to fully relax. all the decisions and uncertainty start to feel a little more manageable with him here—just beside you, not asking for anything, simply offering support in a way that means the world.

you allow yourself to close your eyes for a moment, exhausted from the emotional past few days. within a few minutes, the tension you've been carrying begins to melt away, and before you even realize it, you’re falling asleep.

as your mind drifts, the last thing you feel is the soft weight of a blanket being gently draped over you. nanami’s careful, unspoken gesture being the final reassurance you need before you fully surrender to rest. a silent promise that you’re not alone, and that he’s here, watching over you in the most subtle, considerate way.