#i hope these are coherent but my brain short circuited at the thought of doing this to any of them

[duhnova]

who in svt 😵‍💫

cheol:

- he’s pulling you impossibly closer as he helps guide you in his lap, grinding you harder as he tries to find more friction. he’s groaning lowly into your mouth before he’s shoving his tongue far down it (his hand tangling in your hair so you can’t pull away as he bruises your lips with his)

hoshi:

- he’s whining lowly as he chances your mouth as he bucks his hips up into yours only for you to laugh breathlessly at him before you’re trailing your lips down to his neck where his adams apple bobs as he bares it fully to you to allow you to mark him up however you want.

chan:

- he’s a breathless and moaning mess as you suck on his tongue, your arms wrapped around him to keep him close as he tries to grind up into you harder, his mind fuzzy as the only thing he can think about is your mouth as he gets needier with his hands, his whines getting louder the harder you suck on his tongue while making out.

[unpopularwriter25]

@musix-s Requested a part 2 to the Yoriichi x Gen-Z reader!!

Blossoms of Eternal Love

Summary: Despite her lack of experience with romance, Y/N is constantly swept off her feet by Yoriichi’s effortless and heartfelt declarations of love. During a walk amidst the enchanting cherry blossoms, Yoriichi’s tender words and actions leave Y/N overwhelmed with emotion.

Warnings: None

Note: WE ALL NEED A YORIICHI IN OUR LIFE. I had a little too much fun writing this out. @musix-s I hope this what you wanted!! I had trouble trying to find a good way to start it.

Y/N didn't know much about romance. She never had a boyfriend in her past life. Her attitude drove the guys away. She remembers watching those videos of dudes rizzing up their girlfriends or the random girls and always wondered if someone would ever say stuff like that to her.

The warm afternoon sun bathed the small house Y/N and Yoriichi shared in a golden glow. Y/N was lounging on the couch, lost in thought, when Yoriichi entered, his presence calming and gentle.

“Would you like to take a walk with me, Y/N?” Yoriichi’s voice was soft, like a soothing melody.

Y/N nodded, smiling as she rose to follow him outside. As they stepped into the sunlight, Yoriichi took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss on her knuckles. His eyes never left hers. “Your touch is the only thing that can calm my restless heart,” he said, his voice like velvet.

Y/N felt herself melt inside. How could he say something so romantic so effortlessly? As they walked, he would occasionally glance at her, each time saying something that made her heart flutter.

“You know,” Yoriichi began, his tone casual yet filled with warmth, “every moment I spend with you is a moment I cherish deeply.”

His words were as smooth as butter, and each one made Y/N feel weak at the knees. She tried to focus on the path ahead, but his gaze and his words were magnetic. She could see the genuine love in his eyes, and it made everything he said so much more intense.

They continued down a path lined with cherry blossom trees in full bloom. Petals drifted gently to the ground like pink snow, and the air was filled with their sweet fragrance, creating an almost magical atmosphere.

Suddenly, Yoriichi stopped walking and turned to face her. “Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “You are my everything. Without you, my world would be dark and empty."

Her face turned crimson, and she felt like her brain had short-circuited. She stood there, trying to process his words, but they overwhelmed her. Yoriichi’s concern was evident as he stepped closer, his hands gently cupping her face. His thumb caressed her cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with worry. Instead of checking her temperature with his hands, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you have a fever?” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The combination of his tender touch, his sincere words, and his close proximity was too much for her to handle. She was utterly and completely overwhelmed, unable to form a coherent response.

Yoriichi looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of love and concern. “You mean everything to me, Y/N. I would cross the entire world just to see you smile.”

Her heart felt like it might burst from the sheer intensity of her feelings. She was at a loss for words, her body trembling slightly from the overwhelming emotions coursing through her. Yoriichi seemed to understand her silence, his expression softening as he held her close.

In that moment, Y/N knew without a doubt that he was aware of the effect he had on her. He had to know. But instead of teasing her, he simply held her, his presence comforting and reassuring. She leaned into him, her heart full, knowing that she was deeply loved by this incredible man.

The world around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in their own perfect moment. The cherry blossom petals continued to fall around them, adding to the romantic setting. Yoriichi’s forehead remained pressed against hers, and he whispered the sweetest words a man could ever say to someone. “My love for you is eternal, Y/N. In this life and the next, I will always find you and love you.”

Y/N did not know it was possible for someone to be this romantic. She felt herself getting overwhelmed. Her no-bullshit attitude was left somewhere else. She did the only thing she could think to do in that moment since her words weren’t going to come out. She kissed him.

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of their love and connection. Yoriichi’s hands moved to cradle the back of her head gently, deepening the kiss just enough to convey his unwavering devotion. The cherry blossoms swirled around them, as if the world itself was celebrating their love.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s face was flushed, and her heart was pounding in her chest. Yoriichi smiled at her, a look of pure adoration in his eyes. “Thank you for being my everything,” he whispered, his voice full of love.

Y/N smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her entire being. In that moment, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be, with the person who loved her more than anything in the world.

[facecollapsedthroughentropy]

104 Degrees (M.H)

Summary: Meet-cute with Matty, loosely based on "104 Degrees" by Slaughter Beach, Dog.

Word Count: 667

Warnings: This is disgustingly cute, my teeth are rooting from the sheer amount of sweetness.

Author's note: I haven't written in a long time, so bear with me. If you have any requests for blurbs or imagines, send an ask! I would love to write more for Matty. :)

It was the first day of summer in London. The midday sun was blazing down, distinct shadows of each tree cast down upon the bustling streets.

Matty was sweating, the sun beating down and the lack of water didn't help in any way. Maybe a trip to the bookstore in this unbearable summer heat wasn't a smart choice in hindsight, atleast so he thought.

He stepped out of the small boutique, a bag filled with books in his hand. Beads of sweat were forming on his hairline and even in his linen shirt, he felt clammy. Looking through the crowd, he observed each and every one of the passersby.

Families with their children, sticky ice-cream-covered hands gripping at their parents'.

Groups of teens going on shopping sprees, clad in the hippest clothes and iced coffees in their clasp.

Oh.

His eyes suddenly landed on something, or rather someone. There she was, sitting alone on a bench just outside of his go-to café. The swarm of people simply blending into one mixture behind her, leaving only her figure in focus.

A book in hand, which he promptly recognized to be Murakami's "Kafka on the Shore", and a pair of deeply tinted shades sat on her nose.

He knew it sounded cheesy, even cringing at his own internal thoughts at that second, but he was taken, completely and utterly enthralled.

He watched as her hands reached up to tie her hair, how the sweat stuck to each strand at the back of her neck.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but he was abruptly pulled out of his trance when her gaze lifted to look at him. His unbelieving stare reflected in her dark set of sunglasses.

She smiled at him.

His brain short-circuited. Good God, what was he doing! Smile back, you idiot!

He grinned, after an embarassingly long second, and lifted his hand up to wave at the woman. The next thing he heard was a crash.

Oh no...

His books went tumbling down onto the pavement and right at that moment, he wanted to be swallowed whole. Change his name and forever disappear, preferably to somewhere a bit colder.

He quickly reached down to collect his clumsy mess, hastily shoving it into his totebag in hopes of her not having seen his little accident.

He reached to grab ahold of his last book, ironically another work of Murakami's: The Wind-Up Bird. His hand instantaneously covered by a foreign one, trying to help him by picking up the last piece.

"Thank you..." he spoke softly to the stranger and smiled looking up. He was met with his own reflection yet again, which slowly disappeared as the stranger lifted up her shades, revealing her glimmering eyes.

"You're welome," she said in an amused tone, clearly having seen his antics.

Matty's face turned beet-red. This couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Uhm," he started trying to piece together a coherent sentence. Why was he like this! His usual, overly-confident self was gone, off on holiday and never to be seen again.

"Nice choice," she stopped his blubbering and handed him the book.

"Yeah... One of my friends recommended it to me," he spoke out nervously, reaching up to adjust his curls.

"Thanks again, for helping me and all," he chuckled out softly.

She hummed in response, grinning up at him and opening her mouth to respond, just to be cut off by the overly-eager man.

"Do you want to get something to drink? So I can pay you back for your kindness y'know," Matty offered hastily, beaming at the woman he had yet to know the name of.

Overtaken by his sudden confidence, the woman beamed back at him. Internally, she was going crazy. The minute she saw him step out of her favourite bookstore, she knew she was done for. The way his curls feel onto his forehead, how the light linen shirt contrasted his dark tattoos.

Oh God. She was entranced.

"I would love to."

[bidisasterevankinard]

Tease tidbit Tuesday

Hey! I'm back with some frat boy and Buck on the date night in a dress

fratboys where Buck is like: I'm straight and I'm gonna appreciate the beauty of all my roommates as an ally:

“And the last, but not the least, our living room, where you can hang all the time and catch with the boys,” Eric, the guy who met him near the house and showed everything inside, ends his little tour around the house, where he more likely, as Evan hopes, will next four years. 

Evan nods, smiling at the older guy and then blushes when he catches the eyes of another three in the room. 

“Evan, meet Marcus,” Eric nods at the blonde guy with incredible green eyes in the armchair, “Justin,” another blonde, who is lying on the lovesac in the middle of the room, but this one with piercing blue eyes, who smiles and winks and Evan, making him blush more, “Andrea,” beautiful latino guy sends him peace sign and Buck sends one back, “And the captain of the basketball team since this year and absolute icon of the college, who somehow is straight A student, with girls hanging on him constantly, Tommy,” the brunette, who’s lying alone on the couch the closest to the door, gets up.

“Nice to meet you, Evan,” Tommy shakes his hand with the smile that encourages Buck to smile back, feeling less anxious, “and welcome.”

and Buck in a dress:

Any skill to form any coherent thought runs away and all he can do is blink with an open mouth with his eyes running over his boyfriend's body and clothes. Or better say over a tight bright red dress, that hugs his boyfriends broad body almost like second skin, accentuating his pale skin, black ink of tattoos and highlighting his beautiful pink birthmark. 

The dress has a low square neck with thin shoulder-straps, and they leave so little on imagination that is hidden under them. Perfect lines of Evan’s pecs with pebbling nipples look so appealing under red thin soft material and Tommy wants to put his mouth on them right now. 

The perfect waist, Tommy held just two days ago fucking into this body, stands out and long for days legs look even longer with the dress ending just over the middle of man’s thigh. 

The way his brain short circuits, taking all the detail of his boyfriend's look, might be shown on his face, because Evan crosses his hands around himself, turning away from him.

“I can change if-if you are uncomfortable to go out with me wearing a dress.”

Tagged by @hippolotamus @tizniz @wikiangela 💙💙💙

Tagging @queerbuck @watchyourbuck @eddiiediaz @evnnkinard @rogerzsteven @theotherbuckley @pirrusstuff @saybiwithme @shortsighted-owl @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @devirnis @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @loveyouanyway @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @bewilderedbuckley @bigfootsmom @eddiebabygirldiaz @neverevan @monsterrae1 and anyone who wants

[copperbadge]

lightwit

I love your mindfulness posts. I personally hate the concept of mindfulness with a passion because to me that's just normal being human and using your effing brain properly, but as an educator I have had to accept the fact that manymany people do not in fact have much self awareness and actually do benefit from this mumbojumbo. So, I am so glad I am not the only one struggling out here. 😜

I hope it's okay if I pop this into its own post because it actually gets at something I'm contending with. So, in order to get my research lined up and my thoughts in a row for therapy I turned all this research into a powerpoint called "Doing A Stupid Powerpoint For My Stupid Mental Health". And one of the slides in it is titled "Mindfulness: Petition To Rename It".

Mindfulness, as a term, is uselessly broad; it's such a bad way to identify a category of treatment/behavior that there appears to be an entire subgenre of scientific papers that work to create a framework of what Mindfulness actually is -- I read at least three papers, all published in the last ten years, that are like "What is Mindfulness in a useful sense?" and all of them had different answers. And because Mindfulness is now a buzzword, if you're researching it then you're likely to run into everything from scholarly articles to pop journalism to clickbait, to both harmless and genuinely dangerous peddlers of quack science. And sometimes the quack scientists are also publishing scholarly articles where they've just been p-hacking.

So I'm inclined to agree that mindfulness is mostly nonsense, but that's a problem with the term, not what falls underneath it. There are therapeutic modes that call themselves mindfulness that actually are rooted in real science. I think these should probably have a new name, like Therapeutic Awareness or something, but it'd just get co-opted back into the woo, I have a feeling.

So there's a lot of nonsense, but the goal of being present in the moment and self-aware isn't an idle one; there's an increasing body of knowledge suggesting that it's a foundational skill for emotional regulation and healthy coping. The scholarship goes way beyond "mindfulness arises from Buddhist practice" which if I have to read one more time I'm gonna throw stuff. Clinical testing is looking at things like physiological responses to mindfulness behaviors that have nothing to do with what's going on in your conscious mind. There's some woo surrounding "Coherent Breathing" and I don't trust the foremost proponent of it as far as I can throw him, but he didn't invent it, and testing shows that people trained in and practicing Coherent Breathing have better focus and can, to an extent, lower the level of stress hormone in their body. "Positive affect" (happy emotions) didn't rise, but "Negative affect" (sadness, anger, stress etc) was lowered.

A lot of what's being studied on a clinical level involves us as humans somehow activating shit in our nervous system that we have no conscious control over, the same way we develop muscle memory by doing a task repeatedly. That has measurable value for the issues I'm trying to solve, but it's not universally applicable, which is another reason so much of mindfulness comes across as junk science, because it tries to tell us that it's a cure-all when it isn't.

But there's reason to believe that if you can reroute your nervous system when you're starting to become upset, you can short-circuit maladaptive reactions and prevent it from causing a spiral or an over-reaction or similar, and some practices called mindfulness can train for that. And that's my goal, so I'm willing to rummage in the garbage for the gold.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

A Very Star Wars Christmas Morning

Pairings: Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader, Anakin Skywalker x Reader, Padme Amidala x Reader, Din Djarin/Mando x Reader, Cobb Vanth x Reader, Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, lots of kissing, marriage proposal, bisexual relationship, same sex relationship, Grogu being an adorable menace

Word Count: 1498

Summary: Headcanons about how my various Star Wars Universe crushes would act on Christmas Morning! This is set in a Modern Earth-based society to make it easier on myself :)

A/N: Happiest and Gentlest of Holidays to all of you! This is my penultimate Fluffcember post and I decided to switch it up and do a series of Headcanons instead of the normal flash piece. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Fluffcember Masterlist

Obi Wan Kenobi

Makes coffee and delivers it to you in bed, a peppermint stick dissolving in it cuz “It’s festive!”

As excited as he is for you to open your gift, he won’t rush you out of bed

But he will crawl into bed with you and stare at you while you sip your coffee

Like an adoring puppy

And he’s so damn cute that you relent and let him lead you by the hand into the living room where the tree is set up and the string lights are on and your stockings are full

You’d filled his stocking with bags of his favorite tea, a book you knew he’d been wanting to read, and other thoughtful small gifts

He filled your stocking with some of your favorite candies/treats, plus a small velvet box

A ring box, to be exact

Your brain short circuits. Sure, you’d talked about getting married but you’d thought it was further in the future. Time comes screeching to a halt and there is not a single coherent thought in your mind

By the time your brain starts back up, he’s kneeling in front of you, between your knees where you sit on the couch

“My love, will you do me the immense honor of—”

“Yes”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Yes. Obi Wan, yes.”

His smile makes him practically incandescent with joy as he surges up and captures your lips with his in a searing kiss

He slips the ring on your finger when the two of you come up for air some time later

It’s a perfect fit.

Just like him.

Anakin Skywalker

You wake up before he does

I swear, that man sleeps like the dead or not at all, there is no in between

You make yourself coffee and sit on the couch, reading a book or turning on a Christmas movie to pass the time while you wait for him to rise

When he does wake up, he goes directly into the kitchen to make breakfast for the both of you

But not before stopping to kiss your forehead good morning

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart”

While he normally doesn’t cook, he loves cooking breakfast

Probably because it’s difficult to fuck up breakfast food

He’s two cups of coffee in when the two of you sit down at the table, working on a third as he freshens your cup

Since he grew up poor, the holiday wasn’t so much about gifts as it was spending quality time with his loved ones

His mom, Qui Gon, Obi Wan, you

He even offered to host dinner at your home

And then immediately asked Shmi to be in charge of cooking because she’s the only one who can make his holiday favorites exactly how he likes them

You think it’s cute, how much he loves Christmas

When it comes to gift-giving, he’s more about practical gifts than anything. Did you mention something of yours isn’t working as well as it should be? He’s fixed it (or replaced it after trying to fix it). He noticed your sock supply was dwindling, so he got you more.

He does this throughout the year, mind you, but at Christmas he at least makes an attempt at keeping an element of surprise

Breakfast is delicious

You offer to clean up while he starts cleaning the public areas of your home in anticipation of the house full of guests you’re expecting that night

Padme Amidala

You want to spend Christmas in a fancy-ass Hallmark Movie set?

Padme’s your girl

Her entire home is decorated to the nines, holly sprigs, fresh poinsettias, a twelve foot tree with sparkling lights and ornaments

Banisters dripping with garlands

And it constantly smells like spiced cider

Christmas morning you wake up and she’s already downstairs

She hands you a mimosa when you join her downstairs in your pajamas

She’s in her pajamas too, but hers are silk and yours are an old t-shirt and fleece pants

“You look wonderful,” she assures you as you two sit down to your catered breakfast

After breakfast, you two curl up on the couch together

Snuggling, watching movies for a while before you have to get ready for her annual Holiday Gala

Her gift to you is a piece of jewelry that perfectly compliments the gown you’d picked out for the event

Your gift to her is a framed photo of the two of you in a simple metal frame

She immediately puts it on her nightstand

“So I can see it first thing every day”

You kiss her deeply, not caring that you’ve now both got lipstick all over your faces

That’s what make up people are for, right?

Din Djarin

With how much he travels, he barely keeps track of the day of the week

Much less the actual date

He does notice the snow on the ground and the incessant holiday music in stores and on the radio, so he knows it’s coming up

And he loves you

And he knows how much you love Christmas

So he makes sure to remember to get you a gift

Something thoughtful and sentimental, not extravagant or flashy

Grogu helps him pick it out

Grogu also insists on wrapping it himself

On Christmas morning Din bashfully presents you with what looks like a ball of wrapping paper covered with layers of tape

Grogu smiles when you praise his wrapping job

Din can’t imagine loving you more than he already does

You’re so good with his kid

You’re so good with him

So when you manage to get through the layers of tape and paper to reveal the gift and your face lights up, eyes brightening when you look at him

He falls deeper for you

When he opens the gift you got for him

(Impeccably wrapped, by the way -- what are you, a professional?)

He nearly chokes on the sip of coffee he just took

It’s a mudhorn amulet

“I noticed you lost your other one and it seemed important to you.”

“I-it’s the symbol of my…of our clan.”

“You and Grogu?”

“And you, too. If you’d like,” he adds quietly

You brighten again

And you answer him with a kiss

Grogu makes obnoxious gagging sounds

Cobb Vanth

You’re still asleep when he gets off duty

So he slips into bed with you and pulls you close

He only intends on cuddling until you wake up

But then his eyes slip closed and he’s out like a light — it was a busy night

You wake up to his light snores, still wearing his sheriff’s uniform shirt

As much as you’d like to let him keep sleeping, you two have to get to Peli’s for Christmas brunch and Secret Santa

So you gently wake him up with kisses along his strong jaw and neck

“Mmmm, don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’” he growls, eyes still closed

“I’d love that, but we’ve got to be at Peli’s in an hour and, no offense love, but you need a shower.”

He groans and turns over, grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him

You squeal in surprise

His eyes are still closed

You decide to let him rest for a bit longer

Peli won’t mind if you’re late

Poe Dameron

You’re visiting his dad for Christmas and wake up to the two of them singing along with the Michael Buble Christmas album in the kitchen while they bang around making breakfast

You sneak out of the guest room and sidle up to the kitchen

Poe notices you first, dark eyes landing on yours

“Morning babe!” He exclaims as he bounces over to you and kisses your cheek

Out of the corner of your eye you catch his dad watching the exchange, a wistful look on his face

The three of you eat breakfast in the living room, White Christmas playing on mute while you all open presents

Poe’s dad immediately cracks into the bottle of whiskey you bought for him

The three of you share it

Poe disappears mid-afternoon to get dinner going

His dad, half-drunk in his recliner, smiles at you

“I don’t think I’ve seen a man so in love since I met his mother. You make him really happy.” 

“He makes me really happy too.” 

“What are you two talking about?” Poe asks from the kitchen

“Nothing!” you and his dad both exclaim

You join him in the kitchen a few moments later, hugging him from behind while he stirs something on the stove

“Well hey there” he says, turning around and hugging you back “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, running a hand through his dark curls, “You just make me really happy.”

He responds by kissing you lightly, then turns off the burner and turns his attention to kissing you like he means it

Which he does

The two of you make out in the kitchen until you hear his dad get up from his recliner, then split apart like two teenagers getting caught

[brett-is-afraid]

Warnings: Trans Schlatt, cunnilingus, fingering, brief dirty talk

Words: 1,119

You can also read Boys Like You on ao3

Schlatt was having trouble catching his breath as he laid in his bed, resting on his back with his legs spread wide. He felt a bit awkward like this, so open and exposed even though it was only Wilbur that was watching him. He’d seen this all before, although it didn’t entirely reduce the feelings of embarrassment. 

He tried to focus on the way Wilbur’s hand felt. He’d gotten Schlatt wet enough, but he’d still used lube, making the slide perfectly easy. He looked down to watch Wilbur laying between his legs, occasionally pressing kisses to his thighs, though mostly concentrating on fingering him. 

Two fingers were already pressed deep inside of him, getting as far in as Wilbur could force them. They were long and nimble, seemingly able to hit every sensitive spot. The digits rubbed and curled perfectly, making Schlatt feel better than he ever managed when he was doing this on his own. Schlatt found himself rocking down against his hand, desperate for more. Wilbur’s fingers may be long and talented, but they weren’t thick enough to give him what he really wanted. He always used toys when he was alone, never just fingers, and he wanted to be stretched more. 

Luckily, Wilbur didn’t need to be told and added another finger. The stretch was easy, but Schlatt still felt it. He hadn’t done this in a while and he was suddenly grateful for that, the pleasure more intense like this. And he could tell Wilbur was enjoying how tight he was, hips grinding down against the bed subtly. 

“Feel how tight I am for you?” Schlatt asked him, words shaking a bit more than usual. Pleasure always strung him tight, making it feel like every action and every word was forced out of him. Wilbur nodded up at him, thumb moving to stroke Schlatt’s clit and it made his brain fry even more. “Just imagine how it’d feel around your cock instead,” Schlatt said once he recomposed himself and it was Wilbur’s turn to short-circuit a bit. The shock of the sudden forwardness was clear on his face, but Schlatt could tell he liked it. 

“You want me to fuck you, hm? My fingers aren’t enough?” Wilbur asked with a small smirk, tilting his head at Schlatt. He wanted so badly to wipe that smug look off of his face, but he just found himself nodding instead. It wasn’t that the fingers weren’t enough; he knew he’d come very easily from this if Wilbur continued, but he couldn’t deny he wanted more too. “I could fuck you just how you need. Stretch you open properly,” He assured him. 

“Fuck, I want you to. Just get me off,” Schlatt decided to leave the option in Wilbur’s hands. He couldn’t decide if getting off with Wilbur inside of him or just touching him was better. Both made his mind race, thoughts swirling together until none of them were coherent anymore. Wilbur grinned at him now and he briefly worried if he’d live to regret letting Wilbur choose where things went. 

Before he had too much time to think, Wilbur was sliding his fingers out of Schlatt’s cunt and up to his clit, framing it between the V of two fingers. Schlatt barely bit back a groan at the feeling, already so sensitive and the direct stimulation only driving him crazier. He hoped Wilbur’s hand never left him, though. He let out a noise of protest when Wilbur’s hand did pull away after only a few seconds of stroking. 

He couldn’t fight him on it too much because a moment later, Wilbur was ducking his head down enough to wrap his lips around Schlatt’s cock and his body jolted at the sudden pleasure. He cursed out, far too loudly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Wilbur’s mouth on him. As long as he had that, the bedroom could be on fire for all he cared. 

He wanted to encourage Wilbur to keep going, but he couldn’t form any words. His moaning and squirming seemed to get the point across well enough because Wilbur showed no signs of stopping or even slowing down. He built his pace up slowly, although steadily, never going too fast or too slow. By now, he’d learned exactly the right speed which he should move to keep Schlatt happy and he took full advantage of it. 

Wilbur alternated between licking along his length, occasionally dipping down closer to his hole, and suckling with just the right amount of force. Schlatt’s fingers found their way into unruly curls, holding onto him and keeping him close. At some point, Wilbur’s fingers slipped back inside of him and started stretching him open again. They scissored and twisted enough to make it burn once he added a fourth finger, but it was so perfect. It was as though Wilbur was connected to his body, tuning Schlatt exactly to his liking and playing him perfectly.

Wilbur’s fingers curled at the right angle and Schlatt’s hips were thrusting off the bed, desperate for more of his fingers and more of his mouth. Wilbur laughed against him at that, sending vibrations through his clit which only further intensified his need. Wilbur’s free hand moved to hold Schlatt down by one hip, keeping him a bit more in control as he continued. He amped up his speed and force, focusing in on that spot and rubbing against it mercilessly even as Schlatt thrashed a bit. It was all too intense. 

He wasn’t surprised at all when his orgasm finally hit him, it felt like it had been building inside of him for so long now. The ball of heat in his stomach had grown tighter and tighter before snapping at all once, sending that pleasure skyrocketing out into other parts of his body. His thighs trembled as Wilbur continued sucking him through the entire thing, fingers becoming gentler, but never removing themselves.  Wilbur knew exactly how he liked it when he came; how he needed the stimulation to continue until it was too much. Sex wasn’t as good for him if that didn’t happen and Wilbur seemed intent on making sure this was the best Schlatt had ever had. Tears nearly welled behind Schlatt’s eyes from the pleasure by the time Wilbur finally let go of his clit and softly pulled his fingers free, sitting up between his legs. He smiled adoringly at Schlatt, acting as though he had just said “I love you” instead of giving him the best orgasm of his life. As Schlatt’s nerves burned with pleasure, he thought maybe those two things were pretty similar to one another.

[accihoe]

Peaceful Easy Feeling

After my most recent post, a fanfic about #cliffburton, a tribute to my irl bf who sadly passed away, Cliff has been all over my feed and daily interactions. I'm a little zonked at the moment... so here's another tribute to my loves.

Pairing: Cliff Burton x fem!reader

Summary: song title

Warnings: weed

A/n: same as always, loveys. Also, not proofread. It's the early AM rn, and I'm feeling sick and scared, and I just want to get this published. Love ya.

xxxx

The waves of the ocean crashed peacefully on the shore, and a light coolness hung in the air.

Y/N had been invited to a weekend out with a few friends, which happened to include the up-and-coming boys of Metallica. The friends rented a beach house together where they resided for a week.

Y/N sighed as she sat down on the couch and spared a glance at the poor other soul who was taking refuge in the lounge away from the arguing couples. She shot him a weary smile.

"Also taking shelter?"

He nodded, breathing out the smoke from the joint held between his nimble fingers. Noticing her eyes on the joint, he spoke up.

"Would you like to try it?"

She frowned, caught off guard by his question.

"I-I dunno, I've.. I've never done, well taken... smoked that before."

"It can't kill you. It's one puff. But if you're too scared..."

"No, I'm not scared. Just... weary, of what to expect."

He nodded, taking another puff. Her eyes wandered back to the joint before she sighed and shifted to sit down next to him.

"Alright, maybe one puff."

He handed her the joint, and she exhaled and inhaled shakily. She slowly brought the joint to her lips, giving it a quick whiff on the way up. Without furthed doubt, she placed it between her lips and inhaled.

Cliff, sitting beside her, looked in awe. He'd seen girls smoke before, he'd seen them pull, and do worse. But something about Y/N was magnificent. Whether it was her side profile, her beautiful features, her calming presence, witty jokes, or whatever, he didn't know. But she-

Y/N's brain, having registered what entered the lungs, short circuited, sent her lungs into a coughing fit. Cliff took back the joint and laid a gentle hand on her back, stroking it over her spine and resting at the base of her spine.

"Sorry, I choked."

"Oh, seriously? I thought you were singing."

He sassed. Y/N rolled her eyes and shifted away. Cliff's arm snaked around her waist a pulled her closer, pulling her flush against his side.

"I hope this is alright with you, even though we just met this weekend. But I've seen you staring at me, so I'm assuming it is."

Feeling a rush of boldness from the dopamine of finally being in close contact with the guy she'd been eyeing, Y/N responded.

"Mhm. And assuming you reciprocate my affection, I moot it right to do this."

At the end of her sentence, she tugged Cliff's jaw gently, guiding him to lay his face against the side of her chest as her arm snaked around him. Cliff grinned like a lovesick fool, taking a long drag. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled.

"Cliff, I dunno how it works, but I think your joint is going to kick in pretty soon. So, I want to ask your permission whilst you're still sober or coherent or whatever."

He hummed in response.

"Since we've established that the feelings are mutual, and this may be a holiday fling or it may become more, can I love on you?"

He shifted his head to look up at her, raising a brow as he took another drag.

"Can I play with your hair and kiss it and stuff?"

He scrunched his nose, something she hadn't seen him do before. Her heart started to race, thinking he found it odd.

"I mean, I didn't think you were that fond. But hell am I happy to hear you are. I was confused for a moment. But uh yes, yeah, sure. Go ahead. Whatever you want."

Y/N sighed in relief and sealed her appreciation and understanding with a peck to his forehead. Cliff sighed contently and snuggled into her side, enjoying the warmth from two sources. After a few moments, her hands found their way to his hair, twirling and stroking the beautiful strands. After a few strokes, she placed a kiss to where his hair parts.

Her hand stroked down his neck, and she felt the hot skin. Y/N moved his hair away and gasped when she saw the red skin, burnt by the sun.

"Cliff, do you want some cream for this?"

"Not now, 'm too comfortable."

"Well, here's a supplement for the meantime."

She leaned down, kissing the red skin. Cliff's lips stretched into a broad grin, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks that were slowly turning the colour of his neck. Y/N continued showing her affection.

"I guess we'll be joining them sometime."

She mentioned towards the still arguing couples in the pool room.

"No, I don't think we will. You seem sensible enough to not argue about petty stuff."

Y/N chuckled, pressing another kiss to his beautiful hair. Suddenly, having forgotten about the playing music, Y/N heard one of her favourite songs play through the crackling radio, Peaceful Easy Feeling by the Eagles. She quietly hummed along, leaning her head against the couch. Cliff soon after discard the bud unto the ash tray, then using both hands to wrap around Y/N.

"Before I'm zonked I have a question."

Y/N giggled before humming.

"What are we from now on? I don't want a holiday fling from you. I want more."

"We are then, Cliff Burton, what you want us to be."

"You're my girl henceforth."

"Finally."

She chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Before long, he was peacefully sleeping against her chest, and she gently scratched his back, that thankfully hadn't burnt.

Xxxx

Done. Hope you liked it. Lmao I'm about to crap my pants.

[gotwcird]

star flushes at his compliment. can't believe she can feel so shy when she's happily naked for him, but he calls her beautiful and it makes her chest bloom with a different kind of warmth. the kind that makes her grin, bright and wide, and want to hide her face in the crook of his neck all the same. takes in how he looks at her, rakes over her body. has never felt so pretty in her life. "stop," she quips in coyness, doesn't want him to, but doesn't know how else to react. isn't used to feeling so wanted, so attractive to the person she wants. he makes her feel sexy.

her walls are squeezing around thin air every time nico thrusts into how she's rubbing him. is pleased that he's reacting to her so positively, can only hope he keeps doing so when they continue this. she'd never felt desire this intense, this thick, and she can barely find coherent thought between it all. "fuck me please," she repeats, a lot more crudely this time, finds more and more confidence in his encouragement. gasps, delighted at the slight roughness in his touch. "want your cock inside me." watches keenly between his eyes and how he's stripping himself for her. licks her lips and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip at the sight of him, at the sight of her palming at his erection. ( wants nothing but to see it in its full glory. )

"yes, in my bedside drawers." follows his lead, his pace, is eager to match him for his pleasure as much as her own. "bought them . . . just now." the confession leaves her lips easily, can't bother with holding back anything now, not after dressing how she did and asking him for his dick. ( she'd ran down to her local bodega and bought maybe a few too many packets out of fear she didn't know his preference. ) star's eyes widen when he finally pulls off his shirt. can't even appreciate the planes of his body and the tattoos she spots before he pulls her to him. can't even complain because it's euphoric, the feeling of their skin pressed together finally. heat against heat, feeling his arm tighten around her, feeling safe and needy all the same. wants to feel like this all the time "i love it." the words come out in a whine, every nip at her skin making her physically tense, his question a no brainer. nico's kisses are leaving her breathless, making her squirm in his lap . . . but she manages a response between breaths. "yes . . ." gasps when he finds a sensitive spot, right in the middle of her neck. "yes." ( she wants to be fucked however he wants no matter what it is, truthfully. )

byeol adjusts herself so she can be carried — sadly has pull her hand away from his erection as a result . . . but once she scoots and wraps herself around him, she's suddenly pressing her swollen pussy onto his clothed hard-on and her brain short circuits all over again. "nico, quickly. please."

WHEN SHE TAKES OFF HER SHIRT , nico can't help but gape at her and all of her ethereal beauty . here she is , lips swollen , face sweaty , practically naked in his nap and now she's all open for him like a present only he gets to unwrap . he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of this sight . his eyes are dark as they look at star , raking over her breasts , down to her shiny thighs . she's pink all over , he notes . she's so fucking beautiful . " you . . . " his words die in his throat and he shakes his head . " fucking hell, star . you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen in my life . " he murmurs it out like a prayer , deep in revere of her . her body presses back against his and he almost wants to pull back just so he can KEEP ADMIRING HER .

his brain shortcircuits as she palms him over his pants , before making work of his zipper . she's so quick and nimble , so eager , and nico can't even THINK straight . can barely form a sentence on a good day let alone right now with her touching him . soft , gentle , small hands unzipping him and he thinks if he opens his eyes and sees her hand on him , he might cum right then and there . he needs to have some self restraint , for fucks sake . his breath is coming out harsh and shaky , his hips thrusting up at her touch , eager for more . just as she whispers out the words he's been wanting to hear for his entire life ( it feels like it ) .

" say that again . " he says , hand tightening on the back of her head , taut , almost a yank but not quite . he loosens his grip again , reminds himself to be GENTLE , be good , be so fucking good for her . his eyes are half - closed , lids heavy . he feels drunk from her , from lapping her up , soaking in her taste and sweetness . nico lifts his hips , suddenly feeling a second wave eagerly overtake him and he helps yank off his stupid work pants , the ones he'd thrown on because he thought that's what today was : another work day . it's anything but and he's still coming to terms with the fact that he gets this . he gets STAR , the ultimate prize . he kicks off the pants , watching her hand touch him through his underwear . he exhales . " i can do that . " he says , quiet , determined and confident . nico wears into his bottom lip . " do you have a condom ? " he asks softly , because he can't jump too far ahead . can't just yank her legs open and fuck into her like there's no tomorrow . he's trying to exert any iota of patience he has left in him . reaching the back of his neck , he yanks his shirt up and over . his arms swoop back around her to hug her to him , BARE SKIN TO BARE SKIN . he knew she felt good , but her like this is another level . his chest ignites with warmth at feeling her breasts pushed up against him . his biceps tighten , tensing as they hold her . " how do you like it ? " he mumbles out , reaching forward to nip at her cheek , her jawline , down her neck . " you wanna be fucked like this ? " nico could devour her like this , on the floor . but she deserves better than that . he presses an open mouthed kiss to her neck . " let me take you to bed . "

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

How You Get the Girl

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie's had a crush on Reader forever but doesn't know where to start when talking to her. Luckily for him, she has the perfect advice and he's in just the right place to overhear it!

Word Count: 3.8K ish

Warnings: none really. Spoilers for Star Wars original trilogy and my maybe controversial Star Wars opinions.

A/N: This isn't based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name, but I've recently listened to 1989 for the first time and it's my entire personality now! Listened to it a lot while writing and it's too good of a title not to steal for this! I had lots of fun with this idea, I hope you enjoy reading!

Please don't copy my work

'I just don't get it!'

It was a quiet afternoon in the middle of Autumn. A few solitary customers meandered between the shelves, but Family Video was almost deserted. You stood behind the counter, arms folded, while you endeavoured to solve the enigma of why you best friend couldn’t get a girl.

‘Is your hair not cool enough or something?’

Steve scoffed. ‘Look, it’s not about the hair!’ He mirrored your stance.

Despite your friendship, you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. In high school, girls would have given anything just to be seen with him. Maybe he’d lost his touch? Maybe high school just didn’t matter after all? Either way, King Steve had lost his crown.

‘What’s it about then?’ you relented, seeing his face drop in defeat, ‘How’d you get the girl?’

He stuttered, struggling to condense his elaborate, and frankly shoddy, wooing methods into coherent sentences while you watched him flounder.

In truth, he was different now. Steve wasn’t looking for some meaningless hook-up anymore. He wanted something deeper. Something built to last,

And that was a whole different ballgame.

Unseen between the shelves, Eddie Munson smirked. He wasn’t pretending to browse the selection of tapes he told himself, he just couldn’t help but listen to the two of you go back and forth.

Especially you!

Your voice was music to his ears. He could hardly decipher the words so it wasn’t technically eavesdropping! The melody alone was enough to overpower him.

Eddie had been crushing on you hard for almost three years now. You’d been friends of friends for a while, hanging out in the same group with Steve, Nancy, Robin, and usually Dustin Henderson.

He’d almost asked you out a thousand times but something always make him chicken out. It was ridiculous really; flirting was something that had always come easy to him. Poetry and showmanship were his weapons of choice but something short-circuited in his brain whenever he tried to talk to you. The words stuck in his throat.

You scared him, okay? You were classy and confident, so sure of yourself. You were never ever afraid to speak your mind and you didn’t care what anyone thought of you!

Kind of like him, he thought. Except he did care. Eddie really cared what you thought of him!

‘You’ve got to be joking!’ your disbelieving tone cut through the clouds of his thoughts.

‘What?’ Steve retorted.

You shook your head hopelessly, ‘Act like you don’t care?’ you mimicked, adding sarcastic air quotes, ‘Wait for the… ‘electricity’? No wonder you aren’t getting any girls!’

He threw his hands up in surrender, ‘Well you’re a girl!’

‘Yes, well spotted Harrington!’

‘Go on then, tell me what to do!’ he contested, leaning back on the counter, ‘What makes you see a future with someone? What makes you want to go out with someone, and stay with them?’

Eddie’s ears pricked up. He couldn’t help it.

You agonised, ‘You’ve got to care Steve! You’ve gotta make her feel wanted! Remember the little things about her, compliment her! Not just quietly but when other people can hear!’

Eddie rummaged in his bag for a pen and paper. He couldn’t believe his luck! After years of not knowing where to start to show you how much you meant to him, here you were, unknowingly giving him a step-by-step guide! Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he started scrawling madly across the page as you spoke.

‘Ask her about her interests and listen to her! I mean really listen!’

Easy!

‘Get her flowers! Show that you’re thinking about her!’

Eddie never stopped thinking about you.

‘Invite her to spend time together doing things you both enjoy!’

Piece of cake! (Ignoring all the times he’s failed to do just that!)

‘Be honest about your feelings for her!’

Now hold up. His pen froze, hovering in mid-air. If talking was an Olympic sport, Eddie would win gold but he’s never been great at talking about how he felt. Not that he didn’t have feelings, he supposed he just had too many.

‘That’s so much work!’ Steve whined and you laughed. The sound refocussed Eddie’s despondent mind.

‘True love takes work, Harrington! You’re not some fairytale princess!’

The conversation went on in the background but he didn’t hear the rest. You were right. If he wanted this, wanted you, he was going to have to work for it! No more backing down! No more shying away! No more running!

‘You okay over there, Munson?’

Eddie snapped out of his trance, nearly knocking the shelves over. ‘Yeah!’ he choked, resolve shattering. He stuffed his paper and pen away and grabbed the nearest movie, stumbling over to the desk and your smiling face. Incapable of looking you in the eye, he shoved the tape onto the counter. ‘Please don’t be anything weird!’ he prayed to no one in particular as you turned it over.

Your customer service smile split into a real one, ‘Oh no way! I love Star Wars!’

‘I-uh-,’

‘Say something Eddie!’ he thought furiously, shifting his feet and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, ‘Yeah… I thought it was about time I got round to watching them!’ he managed.

‘You’ve never seen them?’ your face morphed into shock then mock offence, ‘But they’re the best!’

His mouth moved but nothing came out. ‘Ask about things she’s passionate about!’ a small voice whispered in his mind.

‘Which… one’s your favourite?’

‘Oh, I don’t know!’ you rested your elbows on the counter, head in hands and thinking hard. Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets so you wouldn’t see them shaking. You really were breath taking. The way you frowned slightly, the way your eyes narrowed and lips pressed together like this was the most important decision in the world. It made him giddy.

‘Everyone says Empire’s the best,’ you said slowly, ‘But I think Jedi’s my favourite! You just can’t beat the ending!’

‘Is that the one with the teddy bears?’ Steve chimed from the back room, giving Eddie time to pick his gaping jaw off the floor.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly turning over your shoulder, ‘Yes, well done Steve! For the last time, they’re called Ewoks!’

Eddie couldn’t help laughing. You shook your head with a smile, ‘You’ll have to tell me what you think of them!’

‘Yeah!’ he choked, ‘Absolutely!’ His head was reeling from what must be the longest conversation he’d ever had with you.

‘Well, I’ll see you round, Munson!’

‘Yeah… yeah!’ he grabbed the tape from between you, turned heel and hurried out of the store grinning like an idiot. Step one complete! Gone, were the days of wistfully hoping you’d take notice of him! Now he had a battle plan and this film was his way in!

If he’d turned around, he’d have seen the small smile spread its way over your mouth. Steve poked his head out of the back room and wiggled his eyebrows. You moved to shove him and he ducked out of the way, a grin of his own stretching his face.

***

Sharp Autumn wind made you hug your cardigan closer. Leaves crunched and puddles splashed underfoot as you trekked the familiar streets to work, your favourite song blaring in your headphone

‘Hey! Hey, wait up!’

Fumbling with your headphones, you twisted round. Barrelling toward you was Eddie, his tongue poking out as he tried to balance two takeaway cups in his hands while running at breakneck speed.

You couldn’t help but smile.

He skidded to a halt in front of you panting wildly. ‘Here!’ he thrust one of them out at you and you took it. The cup warmed your cold fingers and your name was scribbled on the lid in black sharpie.

‘What’s this?’ you asked as he slurped his own.

‘Hot Chocolate,’ he answered, ‘You like that, right?’

‘Yeah…’ a sigh of laughter passed your lips, ‘I meant what for?’

Eddie just shrugged, ‘You mind if I walk with you?’

‘I’m on the way to work.’

‘I know, I’m headed there too!’

You started walking and he fell into step beside you. After a long sip of hot chocolate that warmed you right down to your toes you spoke. ‘Did you watch the movie?’ He nodded excitedly. ‘And?’

Eddie pretended to think for a second, ‘Uh and it’s amazing!’ He meant it too! The movie had blown him away, had him on the edge of his seat the whole time. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to see it!

But even if that wasn’t true, even if it had been the most boring movie he’d ever experienced, he’d watch it over and over just to see the light that shone in your eyes when you talked about it.

‘Sorry, I’m probably being really annoying!’ You caught yourself in the middle of a tangent.

‘No!’ He couldn’t reply fast enough, ‘I love hearing you talk!’

‘Really?’ the words made your heart skip a beat. Privately, you’d never been sure about Eddie. Sure, you’d hung out before in groups but whenever you’d tried to talk to him, he always seemed to shrug you off. From his short, usually monosyllabic answers, you’d just assumed he found you irritating. Disappointing, because you might have harboured a bit of a crush but there was no point pursuing someone who clearly wasn’t interested.

Yet all of that seemed to have changed. Now, he was trailing after you to work, listening to you babble on about some sci-fi movie and hanging onto your every word. It was nice. Really nice!

From there you talked about everything. He asked about your music taste and hesitantly shared his own. You found out he played guitar in a band and made him promise to tell you when his next gig was so you could come and see.

The video store approached. He stepped in front, opening the door then letting you go first.

‘You after Empire then?’ you asked, taking off your hat and scarf and hanging them in the backroom.

Eddie nodded, ‘This is the one that everyone says is the best, right?’

‘Yeah,’ ducking under the counter, you searched for the tape, ‘It is really awesome! There’s lots of surprises!’ He noted the knowing look in your eye. At last, you found it, holding it out with a smile, ‘Enjoy!’

Your hands touched a bit more than maybe they needed to as he took the video.

‘I’ll be back!’ he promised, tucking it in his bag and scooping up your empty cup for the bin.

***

First thing the next morning, Eddie crashed through the doors yelling at the top of his lungs. ‘What the hell?’

You jumped out of your skin and so did the customer you were serving. Your face split into a smile. You hurried the transaction but Eddie was still hollering, gesturing wildly with both hands. ‘You never told me Darth Vader is Luke’s fa-! ‘

‘Eddie!’ you cut him off, barely able to control your laughter, ‘Spoilers!’

The rest of the store suddenly solidified. Everyone was staring, some shaking their heads in disapproval.

‘Sorry!’ he winced. Tiptoeing up to the desk he leant in, comically close, ‘You didn’t tell me he was Luke’s father!’ he repeated in a stage-whisper.

‘I know!’ you giggled, matching his theatrical tone, ‘What did you think?’

‘It was amazing! I honestly don’t know how anything’s gonna top that!’

You grinned, ‘Well you’ll have to wait and see! You want the next one right away? I put it aside for you!’

‘You did?’

‘Course I did!’ Without waiting for an answer, you slipped away into the back to find it. Eddie took a shaky breath, missing the closeness. Anxiety twisted in his stomach.

‘Come on, Munson!’ he chided himself. ‘It’s now or never!’ He fiddled with his rings, wrists resting on the counter.

It didn’t take you long to come back, holding the video case aloft in ceremonial fashion. ‘Here ya go! The thrilling conclusion!’ setting it down. He managed a grim smile. ‘You gotta come by tomorrow and tell me what you thought!’

A lump stuck in his throat and he grimaced, ‘Oh well… I uh… I was wondering-,’

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah!’ he chuckled awkwardly. This was going great! ‘I was just wondering if… if you maybe wanted to watch it… with me?’

That was it! The words were out in the open now, he had no way to recall them!

The invitation took you by surprise, eyes widened and a small ‘Oh.’ Was all you could manage before he rambled on. Words, previously impossible, now wouldn’t stop.

‘I mean just because you said it’s your favourite! I was thinking we could get pizza or something! I dunno. We don’t have to, I know we haven’t really talked much before but I just thought-,’

‘I’d love to!’

‘-it would be really cool to maybe-!’ he stopped, it took a second to hear that you’d spoken and longer still to process your response. ‘Wait what?’

You smiled and repeated yourself.

He was gobsmacked. Was this real? He never thought he’d get this far!

‘Right! Yeah, cool!’ the words stuck again, ‘I’ll uh… I’ll see you at six, right? …At mine.’

‘Sounds great!’

Somehow, he made it out of the store, clutching the video in both hands. He waited ‘til he was out of sight behind his van before punching the air. Finally! After years of failed attempts, he did it! The drive home was a haze; it was a miracle he made it back in one piece.

At some point he must have ordered pizza because some kid in a yellow shirt showed up at his door at a few minutes to six. All afternoon he’d been floating on air. Now he was freaking out.

What if he messed something up? What if he said something weird? What if you changed your mind and didn’t show?

What if? What if? What if?

***

You arrived a few minutes before he’d said to, giving yourself time to figure out where to park and glance at yourself in the rear-view mirror.

Steve and Robin had teased you relentlessly for dressing up. Claims you categorically denied, of course!

Sure, you’d made an effort. A light dusting of makeup made it look less like you’d worked the late shift for the third night in a row the day before and you just liked the way your favourite sweater made your eye colour a bit more vibrant. That didn’t mean anything! Besides, it wasn’t like he meant anything by it! It was just a movie! Pizza and a movie!

So why were you nervous?

He opened the door almost immediately after you knocked, ushering you inside from the fast-falling dusk. His trailer was cosy and inviting; from all reports, you guessed he must have tidied up significantly. The lamplight enveloped you in a warm glow and the intoxicating smell of pizza made your tummy rumble.

‘You still like pepperoni, right?’ he asked, opening the box, releasing a plume of steam into the air.

‘Yeah,’ you breathed in the scent, ‘How did you know that?’

He looked at the floor suddenly embarrassed, ‘I uh… remember that one time in eighth grade when we had that pizza party? I remembered you were sad because they didn’t have pepperoni.’ He looked up, assessing your response before backtracking hastily, ‘I’m sorry that’s so weird!’

‘No, no, it’s amazing!’ shaking your head and picking out a particularly cheesy slice, ‘The only thing I remember from middle school are those crazy outfits you and your band wore for the talent show!’

‘You remember that?’ He grinned at the memory, ‘Super metal, right?’

After loading a plate each with pizza slices, he slipped the movie into the player and settled next to you on the couch. For a while you didn’t speak much, eating and absorbed by the movie. That was until Obi-Wan’s ghost revealed that-

‘Leia is Luke’s sister?’ Eddie shot up, knocking his empty plate to the floor.

You giggled at his outburst, ‘I know!’

‘How many more reveals are there going to be? Hey! And they-,’ he wrinkled his nose in disgust. You could see a specific scene from the last movie replaying in his mind.

‘I know! It’s so gross!’

‘I don’t believe this!’ he sat back down, ‘I’m never going to recover! Never!’

You elbowed him, ‘Watch the damn move, Munson!’

Was it your imagination, or did his breathing hitch. You’d scooched much closer than before, practically laying your head on his shoulder. Was he uncomfortable? Were you too forward? Your worries were put to rest when he draped his arm around you, slow and tentative, as if giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

The rest of the movie passed by in comfortable quiet, interspersed with Eddie asking excited questions and you berating him to be patient! You couldn’t stop yourself giving the odd bit of trivia or behind the scenes insight and to your delight, he actually seemed to care!

Eventually the credits rolled. He didn’t move right away so you wriggled to look up at him. He was starstruck, open mouthed, and more than a little misty eyed.

‘So?’ you asked cautiously.

His eyes switched from the screen to yours, forming a breathless smile. ‘That was amazing!’ You laughed. ‘I mean it!’ he said, ‘It was so epic! That final duel on the Death Star was just… and Anakin’s death? Wow! And the ghosts at the end? You were totally right about the ending being the coolest thing ever!’

You laughed with him. The mile wide grin on his face lit up his eyes like a thousand stars, sending butterflies whirling in your stomach. He felt like a different person. Secretly, you’d worried he wouldn’t enjoy it, that he’d think it was silly or it just wouldn’t be his thing but he gave you no doubt! His enthusiasm was the most genuine of anybody’s you’d ever seen and you realised then, you’d give anything to see it again and again.

Eddie started to clear away the plates and pizza box. While you helped, a question kept gnawing at you. A question you were almost afraid of the answer to.

‘Why are you doing this?’ you asked, stopping before you stooped put your shoes back on. He froze like you’d caught him doing something wrong.

‘Doing what?’ his voice failed to imitate nonchalance.

‘Being… nice to me all of a sudden.’ It was the only way you could describe it. He really seemed to care, to actually want to hear your opinions, share your joy.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he continued clearing up but he hid his face behind his hair.

‘You’re a terrible liar!’ you moved closer and saw his shoulders tense, ‘Tell the truth!’

He didn’t speak. All the light from before extinguished, something closed him off again. Maybe you’d crossed a line? Said something wrong?

‘You know, you aren’t as mean and scary as I thought you were,’ you tried gently, anxious to get the other Eddie back. He smiled a bit, though still not looking at you.

‘Neither are you!’

‘You thought I was mean and scary?’

‘Not mean!’ he clarified, ‘But scary as hell!’

You couldn’t help but laugh and a small chuckle escaped his chest. ‘Why?’

‘Because!’ he gestured at nothing in particular, ‘Because you’re you and you’re so sure of yourself and you don’t care what anyone thinks! And…’ he stopped.

‘And?’ you asked when he didn’t continue. He didn’t want to tell you, not yet. He was only just getting started! There were still so many things he had left to do before…

‘Be honest with her about your feelings!’ wheedled his brain. It was a struggle but he forced himself to meet your eye. Looking like a man about to risk it all, he wet his lips and took a steady breath.

‘And…’ he continued, voice low, ‘I’ve had a massive crush on you since… forever!’

Oh!

The words hung in the silence between you. They echoed in your head and in your heart.

Before you could respond, he tore on, ‘And I never knew how to talk to you before because I was scared that you’d… I don’t know… laugh at me or something? Because I know, I’m a colossal disaster and I don’t know how to say romantic things or anything when I’m around you!’ He stopped to draw breath.

‘What changed?’ you cut in, still trying to process his confession. All this time you’d worried he didn’t like you and now he told you he felt all that?

Eddie hung his head. He raised a hand to his neck, rubbing furiously as a flush rose in his cheeks. ‘Um… You remember like a month ago? You were talking to Harrington about why he couldn’t make a relationship work?’

‘Yeah?’ the interaction seemed so small, so inconsequential.

‘Well… I might have been listening and I wrote down all your advice and planned to use it on you!’

His nose scrunched; shoulders tensed. At last, everything was laid out on the line. All he could do was wait for your response.

Worst case scenarios, none of them remotely in character, fired through his mind. You being super weirded out and never wanting to talk to him again. Laughing in his face and telling everyone you knew that the big scary metalhead was a hopeless romantic sap in disguise.

To his surprise, you reached up and cupped his face in your hand, rose on your tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

He looked down at you, eyes wide. You held his gaze. He hardly dared hope.

‘I guess I give really good dating advice!’ you murmured.

He breathed out slowly, and a bright shining smile graced your lips. ‘Yeah?’

You nodded. ‘You should tell Steve it worked! Maybe then he’ll listen to me!’ Eddie let out a laugh, relief washing over him.

Your eyes found each other’s again. For a moment you just stood there, admiring his features up close. The faint brush of freckles over his nose, his slow, steady breath that moved his chest up and down, the way his eyes widened when he looked at you. Like they were seeing the whole world at once. You noticed them flicker to your lips and your heart fluttered.

‘Do you want to kiss me?’ your voice was quiet but earnest.

He blushed at the question, then, almost imperceptibly nodded. You smiled, moving ever closer, until you were practically nose to nose.

‘Go on then!’

***

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback and reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! It makes me all warm and fuzzy when I hear that you enjoyed a story I wrote! Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything else I write!

Tags: @sadbitchfangirl

Masterlist

[bonky-n-steeb]

crave

dad’s bestfriend! bucky x reader

summary || you finally get a taste of the forbidden fruit.

warnings || unprotected sex. oral sex. fingering. daddy kink. praise kink. dirty talk. PWP. MINORS DNI

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I really really hope y’all like this ;)

“Bu.. Bucky.” You choked on your spit and at the same time your mouth went dry. Because the sight before you was absolutely atrociously gorgeous.

A freshly out of shower Bucky was wrapped up just in towel. Water droplets were running down the wide expanse of his chest and making rivulets in the hard planes of his abs and disappearing beneath the soft knot of towel.

His hair was tousled up and it looked so good that you wanted to run your hands in it. His calves were strong and well built and you could only imagine his thick thighs covered with the cloth.

His dick was big…. you just knew it.

Bucky was the guy who had moved in besides you and had soon striked up a friendship with your dad. He was helpful, amicable and irresistibly hot.

You didn’t live with your parents and hadn’t been there when he first moved in. But when you had come back home for holidays, you had been taken aback to see Bucky chatting with your family as if he was a member already.

When you had called him, ‘Mr Barnes.’ He had just chuckled and shook his head and said in his thick voice, ‘Call me Bucky, doll.’

You had thought about him calling you doll when you had touched yourself at night in your childhood bedroom. It was sinful, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His bulging muscles that highlighted themselves in the tight T-shirts he wore didn’t help any. He lived alone so he usually ended up in your house for every occasion.

You tried not being alone with him as you didn’t trust yourself. But yesterday, when the topic had come out that your parents were going out today, Bucky had insisted you come over for a dinner with him.

Today, your parents had left early and seemingly bored, you had gone to Bucky’s place a little earlier. You had entered through the open back door and walked up to his bedroom only to see him half naked.

“Hello doll! Aren’t you a bit early?” He was relaxed as he if wasn’t the one standing in a towel. He was shamelessly showing himself off and wasn’t even trying to cover himself.

“Ye… yeah. Sorry.” You knew you should’ve turned around and walked out. You should’ve at least closed your eyes. But instead you were stuck on the stop.

He started walking closer to you and with his long legs, it didn’t take much time for him to come face to face with you. “You like what you see?”

Okay well, you hadn’t expected that. His face was so close to yours by now that your soft breaths were hitting his face. Instead of answering, you just stared at him with wide eyes and a hitched breath.

“I see the way you look at me. I know.” You didn’t know why but you felt like a criminal. “I… You,,.. I.,,.” You stuttered on your words and Bucky felt that endearing.

“Shhh. Don’t worry your pretty little head, baby doll. Let daddy take care of you.” This was it. You had died and gone to heaven. Because did Bucky actually say that?

Your panties were flooded and you were weak in your knees. Your brain was absolutely short circuiting and you were suddenly incapable of giving a coherent response. 

He placed his huge palm on your jaw and cupped your cheek. “Is that what you want? You want daddy to look after you?” His thumb was tenderly stroking your cheek, making all your thoughts vanish from your head.

Your lips were open and you were panting softly due to the close proximity. Without thinking about anything else, you nodded your head.

A smirk painted his face and he tucked his thumb into your lips. Obediently closing your lips around his digit, you sucked on it while staring at him right in his blue eyes.

He pulled out the finger from your mouth with a pop sound and smeared the saliva on your cheek. The cold air made it cool down and you gasped at the gesture.

You stood there on the spot as his tongue peeked out and licked the trail of your saliva from your cheek to your open lips and began kissing you.

His lips were surprisingly soft as he kissing you wet and hot. His hand was holding your face as he fucked into your mouth with his tongue.

He was an excellent kisser as with just one kiss you were squirming in his hold. Breaking the kiss, you hesitantly placed your hand on his chest. “Bucky..” his name left your lips without your conscious effort.

“Now that’s not what you’re supposed to call me.” He tsked you. Gulping, you finally called him what his ears were straining to hear, “Daddy!”

That was all he needed as the next second he pulled you into a scorching kiss again. His hands pawed at your body and he kneaded any softness he could lay his hands on.

It didn’t take him much time to unbutton your shirt and pull down your bra. The very next instant, he started palming your breasts and peaking your nipples with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful baby girl. And all mine.” It felt so good for someone be possessive over you. “Yes. All yours daddy. Only yours.”

He let out a guttural growl and started frantically unzipping your pants and pulling them down. Soon you were standing in front of him in just your panties and shaking like a leaf.

You squealed when his hand cupped your core. “Fuck. You’re so wet baby doll. Is it for me? Did I do this to you?” Your pants were wet and his hand was rubbing you through so good, that you couldn’t help but moan.

“Please daddy! Please.” You whined because you need more. “I’ll give it to you doll, I’ll give you all that you need.” Shucking down your panties, he pushed you back on his soft bed. But instead of throwing your panties with the rest of your clothes, he kept it on top of a dresser.

He riled you up more by slowly undoing the knot of his towel and letting it fall down. You openly stared at his hard cock which was already weeping with precum.

It was thick and long, better than you’d imagined. You probably said that out loud because Bucky chuckled as he crawled up on you. “Yeah? You thought about me? You thought about my cock and how I’d fucking ruin you?”

His lips were sucking wet marks on your throat to your collarbone to your breasts. “Answer me baby cheeks.” He smacked your inner thigh. “Yes daddy!”

“I’ve got such a naughty girl, haven’t I?” By now he was right between your thighs. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy.” Your face heated up with his praise but you didn’t stop him.

The first lick of his hot tongue over your dripping folds made your back arch. “Fuck! You’re so sensitive doll.” His tongue flicked your swollen clit and then fucked your wet hole with it.

Your hands entwined with his long hair strands and you tugged him closer. He licked up your slick like a starved man. His lips closed around your throbbing bud and sucked and you wailed.

“Oh… oh god Bucky!” You writhed on the bed as he started fingering you while sucking on your clit. With his ministrations, it didn’t take long for you to cum.

“Squeezing my fingers so tight. Fuck!” He cursed as you convulsed around his thick fingers. He needed to relieve his throbbing dick and had started humping the mattress.

Finally feeling you were prepared enough, he kissed you and lined himself up with your cunt while you were still riding from the previous aftershocks.

“Yes yes bucky… please please please!” You whined as he rubbed his head over your pussy. “Fuck god you’re so warm and tight fuck. The best pussy I’ve ever had.” He exclaimed as he buried himself into you in a single stroke.

The stretch of his cock made you feel more full than you ever had. He pulled back almost all the way through before thrusting in again. The delicious friction made your eyes roll back.

“Your tiny pussy is gripping me so tight. Don’t want let me go, do you?” His thrusts were relentless and he shook the entire bed frame with the intensity.

You clutched his broad shoulders as he rammed into you. “You’re so naughty baby doll. Fucking your dad’s friends ain’t what good girls do. And look at you, writhing beneath me like a filthy little girl.”

“Daddy!” You screamed his name as you came harder than you ever had. Your legs were shaking as you held on to him tight.

“Fuck doll fuck!.” He grunted as he came in you. His fingers clutched your hips tight as he released his load deep inside you. Your orgasm was amplified by feeling his hot cum fill you.

You both panted as you laid down in the bed like a puddle while he gently wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Do you wanna have a pizza?”

The question put you off track and you laughed. After all this, you had forgotten the reason you were even here in the first place. “Yeah. I’ll have a pizza.”

~~~

“So, how was the dinner? I’m sure Bucky isn’t as bad as you’d thought.” Your dad asked when you entered your house. Your parents had come back earlier than you.

You felt like a deer in headlights with your parents looking at you with wide smiles while you had Bucky’s cum running down your thighs. He had even kept your panties with him. You felt heated again thinking about it.

“Yeah… yeah. The dinner was delicious.”

[silversatoru]

Hi love! ❤️

Mkay so like.... Suguru walks in and finds out his gf has a cam acc- and just like straight up ruins her online

This has been on my mind all day but idfk how to write it

a/n: AHAH hey babe!!! this concept is 😌👌 so i hope i did you proud w this. also if ur really into the whole getting-ruined-online concept and you fuck w dabi may i recommended @katslutski ‘s smile for the camera series; it is one of my favs

getou suguru x f!reader

tags/warnings: masturbation, degradation, humiliation, dumbification, filming, facial, mild bondage, mild overstimulation

w/c: 1.4k

you rubbed your clit in rushed circles, projecting a cluster of fake high-pitched moans and arching your back for the camera. it really didn’t feel that great, but you were damn good at pretending it did — and the cash was flowing in as a result. 

you could see the notifications of donations and new patrons popping up on the side of your screen and you let a soft sigh of satisfaction leave your lips. these fuckers were so horny that they’d send you stacks of their income just to see you fondle your cunt — pigs.

between the blood rushing to your ears from your approaching orgasm and the soft music playing through you room you didn’t even notice the sound of your front door opening. you were completely unaware of your boyfriend’s presence in your home until he was standing in your bedroom doorway — a confused but amused expression across his face. 

“am i interrupting something?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“suguru! i thought you were busy today, i-” you scrambled to explain yourself and grab a sheet from your bed to pull over your exposed body. 

“plans changed,” he shrugged and cut you off, entering your bedroom, “maybe you should start locking your front door when you’re doing shit like this”. 

you stared at him with horrified eyes, worried that he might break up with you for this kind of thing — he didn’t seem mad but he definitely wasn’t happy either. you quickly lunged for your laptop/camera set-up, attempting to end your livestream, but suguru moved quicker. he grasped your wrist in his strong fingers and looked at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

“leave it on, doll,” he purred at you, releasing your wrist and pushing you back towards the bed, “go ahead and finish the show for them”. 

completely stunned, you fell back onto your elbows and gave him a hesitant look. it’s not like you were embarrassed or anything— shit, you did this like every day, but you were severely confused by his reaction.

he nodded at the computer screen with hazy eyes, “they’re waiting. why are you so shy all of the sudden? you should be used to having an audience”. 

after a final moment of hesitation you leaned back, fingers returning down to your clit to resume where you’d left off. it was a little more awkward with suguru watching, but the way he was ordering you around was kind of hot, so your stiffness quickly faded.

and you knew your body well, what worked and what didn’t, so it was only a matter of minutes before you were rocking your hips into your hand and letting exaggerated whimpers slide between your teeth. the orgasm was mediocre at best, but you had to dress it up and wrap it in a bow for your precious patrons.

at some point during your little show suguru had rid himself of his clothing and was now climbing into the messy sheets with you. 

“let me see your hands,” he stated blankly, his fingers gripped around the belt that had been looped through his pants just a few minutes ago. 

“this is live you know,” you gave him a concerned look — you were confused but not opposed, holding your hands out behind your back.

“oh, i know,” he took care in gently wrapping your wrists together as tight as the belt would go and then helped you onto you knees.

the duskiness of his eyes filled you with a splendid mix of fear and excitement, but before you could even get a good look you were being shoved into the bed.

“put your face in the pillows, doll,” he ordered lazily as you faceplanted into one of the several pillows at the head of your bed.

his strong hands were quickly gripped around your hips, the tip of his rock-hard member brushing teasingly against your entrance. you were already practically dripping, the sticky liquids from your earlier orgasm still glistening around your edges. it made his access easy, his aching cock sliding with little effort.

“let’s show all of your fans how much of a dumb cock-whore you become when i’m inside you,” he thrusted using hard, firm strokes right from the start.

and of course he was absolutely right — you lost any inkling of a coherent thought once you were stuffed full with his length. you moaned, whimpered, and squirmed underneath him like the pathetic little cam girl you were. but with suguru, none of your performance was a façade — he truly knew how to make you melt under his touch. and melted and useless was exactly how he liked you, so he had every intention of fucking you dumb in front of your audience today.

and that’s exactly what he did. it was his own foul way of punishing you; turning you into a drooling cum-slut who had completely forgotten she was being broadcasted live. if you wanted to be a whore for a living, he’d show everyone just how much of a whore you were — but only for him. 

you’re not even sure how long it’s been — all you know is that you’re orgasming for the fourth time; or was it the fifth? sixth? you’d lost count somewhere along the way.

dull waves of pleasure racked through your body and sent quivers under your skin. you whined and wriggled, murmuring incoherent babbles as you rocked your hips back and forth on his cock to milk the most out of your climax.

“that’s five times, baby,” suguru’s voice sounded miles away, “my dick feels good inside you, doesn’t it?”

you thrashed your head up and down against the pillow, mumbling the word yes over and over as your body twitched from overstimulation. glistening mixtures of fluids were squelching out as he continued thrusting into your cunt, some dripping all the way down your legs.

and he didn’t let you take any breaks — nonstop fucking you even while your pussy was throbbing with sensitivity. the overstimulation was excruciating, and you were a complete mess of trembles and whimpers.

“so pitiful,” you heard a dark laugh rumble from his throat, “there’s thousands and thousands of people watching you be my disgusting little fuck-toy right now, and you’re just gonna keep taking it, aren’t you?”

you weren’t even sure what he was saying, honestly. your brain had short circuited a while ago, and you were just absent mindedly nodding your head and mumbling agreements to everything he said. the pillowcase beneath your head was nearly soaked in saliva now too, your feeble mouth hanging open while drool continued to seep from the corners of your lips. 

“i think i want you to finish me with your mouth, doll, how does that sound?” he slowed his pace, pushing lazy thrusts into your hips while you mindlessly nodded your head again. 

“pathetic little baby; you have no idea what i’m even saying to you right now, do you?” you heard suguru laughing from behind you; but all you could manage in response was a few scattered whimpers. 

he abruptly unsheathed himself from inside you, and strangled whines escaped your throat at his sudden absence. no! more, please, please, suguru please, you murmured with an embarrassing lack of control and your boyfriend couldn’t do anything but laugh at you in your shameful state.

“turn around and open those pretty lips,” he reached down and helped you to flip over before straddling your chest and pressing his hot, sticky member against your lips. 

you opened them graciously, too braindead to even notice the bitter taste of his precum mixed with your own fluids. he mouth-fucked you with obscene force, the walls of your throat painfully expanding every time he thrusted in. you choked and sputtered, drool leaking down your lips and all over your chin. 

when suguru’s own orgasm was right on the cusp he removed himself from your mouth and sprayed his seed all over your face. from your forehead to your chest you were coated in sticky globs of semen, and you sucked down the drips that made it into your mouth like they were liquid gold. 

“lets see how many of your precious viewers come back after this — now that they saw you disintegrate into the helpless little cum slut that you are, now that they know you’re mine”. 

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

the way my brain short-circuited there jesus what the hell. i fear im gonna go over the tag limit so im gonna try to order my thoughts here. (dont expect any coherent thoughts tho ive been having a headache all day lol)

ok first of all. the fuck you mean perfect response. im gonna hunt you down i swear what the actual fuck this poem read like a fucking punch to the stomach. no. i would welcome a punch to the stomach or a dagger in every inch of my body. what the fuck. but i digress. ok okay now that i think about it it does fit very well. i hate how in order to explain this fully (aka rant about it till i reach the word limit) i have to interpret my own poem and aaaa i have this rule of not doing that lol. but yes i see it. i hate it. in the best way possible.

secondly. imagine me as that meme "ive connected the dots you didnt connect shit ive connected them" because this is literally me right now except ive actually connected some dots. it may be across different canvasses(? like you know the connect the dots drawing well it might be two completely different drawings but i did connect them fuck you). ok so when i first read the title it immediately made me think of Look At Me (which is such a good fucking poem too) because of how similar the titles seemed. yet they say the complete opposite. you probably did that on purpose didnt you you fucker. now im gonna think about this instead of sleep. these two poems feel like the opposites of the same coin. rejecting vs accepting. Look Away is like dont look at my wounds dont try to heal me i am beyond saving while Look At Me is the want the need even to be seen to be recognized beyond the prison that is made from your own skin. god okay my thoughts are running wild im afraid i wont be able to catch all of them. but before i dive into this more (??yea i think i have gone crazy) i wanted to say that i was thinking like how these two poems kinda mirror each other and then something hit me. it was a brick. because lately ive been obsessing over the fanart of crowley looking in a broken mirror and some of the reflections are him before the fall you know the ones right. and this really feels like that. like obviously both poems are about demon crowley but you know what i mean? like they're still opposites.

ok so here are some connections ive found (oh no here i go projecting again lol). Look Away is like an armour, like a shield, built over millennia of hurt and rejection. Look At Me is like the vulnerable side of crowley, the part of him that craves intimacy and connection. he wants to break free from his emotional armor and be truly seen and understood. im headcannoning that the prison in Look At Me is basically the poem Look Away. if that makes sense. ofc it does have i ever said something that doesnt make sense? exactly. the ending of Look Away where crowley asks aziraphale to come back shows the contradiction in his desire. he’s afraid of being hurt but also deeply longs for connection. so like in a way it's kinda hopeful? (me desperately trying to keep it all together by deluding myself that it's not as sad as it looks lmao). like. if you read first Look Away and then Look At Me it's like it reads kinda hopeful (hopeful isn't the right word dammit) because it's like a transformation crowley goes through and embraces vulnerability and the possibility of connection. like there's still a long way to go of course but still. he's healing? maybe? hopefully? (please tell me it'sgonna be okay im literally rocking back and forth in a fetus position rn)

another difference between these two poems i really like is how they both use demanding language (literally in the titles lmao) but in Look At Me it's like really direct and commanding like also more desperate because of that i guess? and the repetition of the title also adds to that. and in Look away the demanding voice is. softer? like this line "so please, look away΅ like the added 'please' why is it there yknow. the poem started out quite hostile and at the end crowley literally begs. this feels like he is showing a vulnerable side. which is aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa im so normal about that.

ok enough about these imaginary dots. i was like. dreading this part because it means reading this poem again but this time i know what it says so in a way it's like i am accepting or even welcoming the fucking emotional onslaught it brings. deep breaths. ok. so. ok i cant lmao what the actual fuck man i cannot write down my thoughts about this poem without going completely comatose. so i will share my favourite lines instead *proceeds to copy paste the entire poem * no im kidding i will try to limit myself to a couple of lines here they are:

look away and stop pretending you can fix this not even God herself could

the fucking essence of the struggle isnt it. i dont even know anymore. it's the deep-seated belief in his own brokenness. yep. it's a raw admission of defeat because if not even the most powerful being in the whole universe can fix me then who can. i mean him. fix him.

i'm fine in my filth, in my grime, and decay i'm not okay with you uncovering my truths

i hate you for this. honestly. the fucking acceptence of the unworthiness? how the fuck dare you. it's easier to believe you deserve nothing, it shields you from disappointment and rejection. better to reject first than be rejected right. but the fucking worst thing about this is the second line. how aziraphale's insistence on uncovering his truths feels like an invasion of his very soul. what the fuck man.

please, i don't want to hurt the only soul who's ever dared to stand this close

despite it all crowley still cares deeply. his plea (because it is a plea rather than a command..wtff) for distance is not born out of apathy or disdain, but rather from a place of fear of causing harm. beneath the layers of resistance and defiance lies a vulnerable heart. it really is a battle against himself huh against the instincts that urge him to push away those who care. hey im totally fine

okay well there is really one more thing left to say. i will never forgive you for that ending. what in the eurydice and orpheus shit is this. "run away and don't look back" ?????? this cant be a coincidence right. what the fuck man. i can hear eurydice saying this to orpheus but orpehus doesnt listen and inevitably dooms her. her. not himself. although kinda himself too because he did lose the love of his life lol but like. crowley not only saying to look away and run away to protect aziraphale but also himself???????? what the fuck man you deserve jail time for this (pretend that this was definitely what you were going for and not me connecting imaginary dots again lol). but also. the last two lines. wait. come back. god. why are you doing this to me. it's now like crowley is the one dooming them and that makes it even sadder because it's just gonna be one more thing he will blame himself for goddammit aaaaa why the fuck. and the last two lines are also like in a way they are saying 'no wait i changed my mind look at me' yknow. like at the very end he did change his mind is it too late please tell me it's not too late aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

anyway. what time is it. i lost all sense of thought and meaning and apparently sentence structure. or. idk . i dont know anything anymore. my mind feels like it's been through a blender. i will be hunting you down. maybe even kill you. as a thank you. to show my appreciation :) jesus fucking christ

Look Away

don't call me beautiful as you undress me don't turn on the light don't force me to look at my own reflection  in your eyes i can't stand the sight stop picking at my scabs stop prodding at my wounds i don't need your healing you're only making it worse i don't care if they're infected, just pay no mind to the rotting flesh, look away and stop pretending  you can fix this not even God herself could

i can deal with these dirty bandages  i can't deal with you looking at me like that like i'm something worth fighting for like i’m something worth loving i'm fine in my filth, in my grime, and decay i'm not okay with you uncovering my truths,  unwrapping all the lies i've needed to survive  with your bare hands

don't come any closer stop trying to close the gaping gashes why are you doing this? it's not worth your time keep away while you still can because i'll kick and scream and lash out  if you try to fight me, and i won't hold back please, i don't want to hurt the only soul  who's ever dared to stand  this close

so please, look away run away and don't look back.

wait.

come back…

tag list under the cut

@wibbly-wobbly-blog @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @phantomram-b00 @charlotte-zophie @crowleys-curl @quoththemaiden @thewibblylever @genderqueer-hippie @lickthecowhappy @celestialcrowley @ineffable-rohese @alwaysbemybae @fearandhatred @roof-of-trees @weasleywrinkles @brokewokebespoke @eybefioro @captainblou @amagnificentobsession @marika-misc @phoen1xr0se @simonezitrone79 @thatqueercookie @tiptopticketyboo @veil-of-lament @celticseawych @nimbusalba @annewind

i had a semi chaos moment the other day and deleted my tag list, but i found a backup. please let me know if you wanna get removed, or added for some reason. or added back if you got blasted into the void

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

[fandomvariousness]

pairing: armin x reader

warnings: implied violence, mild angst, smut: riding, creampie, mommy kink if you squint?

summary: armin's upset after eren's antics, so he finds solace in you

word count: 1.4k

a/n: can i just dedicate this to @junisfics cause she's the reason i came back to this blog and she's the sweetest person EVER <3 and i know this gurl is a f i r m believer in armin supremacy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hope you like it juni!!

“Armin, Armin!” you breathed out as you stormed into his room, worried sick.

It was late evening already, but they didn’t let him go with all the interrogations and speculations – each hour felt like a day, forced to count every minute until you could finally see him.

Your heart broke when you saw him leaning against the window-sill, gazing into the gloom of the evening, his back facing you.

You exhaled curtly as some weight was pressing down on your chest and basically flew towards Armin, snaking your arms around his waist.

He said nothing, but placed his palm on yours, non-verbally appreciating support.

“Are you hurt?” you inquired, shifting his body ever so slightly so you could take a proper look at him.

“No.” he whispered.

He wasn’t hurt physically, but you could see he was absolutely crushed emotionally.

A sudden rush of odium surged through your veins remembering that Armin and Mikasa almost got caught in that explosion because of the Jaegerists.

“I can’t believe Eren got off the rails like this.” you muttered, taking Armin’s palms in yours.

He shook his head curtly as he exhaled, darting his lost eyes around. “I—I don’t know what to think, truly.”

“I know, baby,” you hugged him again, snuggling your face in his chest.

He released a deep breath, shivers running through his body, indicating his worry.

“Baby, you have to—” you stopped when you saw so lost a look in his eyes, it seemed like he didn’t even know what he was doing this very instant.

His eyes settled on yours, begging for something, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he rested his forehead against yours. “Could you—Could you just—”

His breathing was kind of erratic as he struggled to end his sentence, getting more upset by the second, making you shush him gently with your palms cupping his cheeks.

“C’mere,” you muttered as you gently pressed your lips against his, desperately wanting to drain all his worries and fears away and leave comfort only.

The pecks were reassuring, chaste, yet Armin was more and more reluctant to let go with each kiss. He surprised you by gently catching your lower lip between his teeth, the action going straight to your lower region.

He was never this needy; well, even if he was, he never showed it. Your heart panged at the realization that he’s an absolute messright now, and you want nothing more than to make him feel better.

And so you will.

You ran your palms upwards his toned chest, feeling every crevice and line, until you snaked your hands around his neck and brought your body flush against his; you could almost feel his erratic heartbeat.

Armin gasped into your mouth feeling the friction against his rapidly growing tent, his hands greedily squeezing your buttocks, wanting to lessen the already non-existent gap between the two of you.

You couldn’t control the tiny yelp that escaped your mouth once Armin’s wet tongue plunged into your mouth, awakening the lewd, warm feeling in your lower stomach, making you all too aware of his hardness against your thigh.

“Bed,” you murmured in between sloppy kisses as you pushed him backwards.

He stripped you of your hoodie along the way, leaving you in a black camisole just before you pushed him on the bed: his back connected with the mattress in a dull thump, flaxen hair spreading around his head, forming a halo.

You admired his unbearably cute, blushing face as you straddled him, slowly grinding your clothed core against his erection. The way his arms stroked your thighs, the way his pink lips were rendered ajar by the escaping huffs made the knot inside of you tighten almost to the point of snapping.

“My angel,” you cooed lovingly as your palm stroked his cheek, feeling its emanating heat.

Your lips connected once again in a deep kiss, moans intertwining with each other. Armin’s hands stroked your behind and hips, pushing you against his dick more and more until you couldn’t handle the warm slick that was pooling in your panties.

“Fuck,” you cried, hurriedly removing Armin’s top, as well as your own, followed by your bra – everything flew to the ground. While you were doing this, Armin took care to loosen the strings of your pants and his own, the pieces of clothing joining the growing pile immediately after.

Armin’s dick was so hard you mentally scolded yourself for making him wait so long when he was clearly, so to say, in need. Not wasting any more time, you took his hardness into your hands to position your entrance over his tip, making him hiss in pleasure.

Armin was speechless as you slid down his length – he was almost choking with desire as he gripped just above your hips, trying to refrain himself from pushing you down too hard.

“A—Ah,” you gasped as you leaned your palms for support on his heaving chest.

Armin’s head fell back to his pillow as you bottomed him out, both of your eyes fluttering close at the sensation. He hummed lowly, taking in the warmth of your insides, as his palms ran up and down your naked thighs.

You started to heave your hips up and down his throbbing length, establishing your pace, letting both of you feel each other’s surfaces.

Armin watched your bouncing breasts and pleasure-ridden expressions and felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes at how much he wanted to ravage your senses out, desperately needing to erase the recent events from his head.

Suddenly, he sat up straight, your arms automatically clasping on his shoulders for support as his hand snaked around your lower back and turned both of you over in one motion – your back hit the mattress as your hands unhooked themselves from him and dropped limply to the sides, bent in so innocent a manner. You were sure taken by surprise, for Armin very rarely pulled stunts like this in bed – he was afraid of hurting you and would thus settle with vanilla options more often. The mere thought of Armin acting up made your pussy clench around him, sending him further to his newfound frenzy.

“So good, so good,” Armin was muttering incoherently as he kneeled on his shins, holding you slightly upwards by your hips and mercilessly pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin shamelessly filling the room to the brim.

Your brain was short-circuiting as you struggled to form a coherent thought. “Fuck, oh God, Armin, a—ah,”

Your legs were dangling in the air with each thrust as you bit on the back of your index finger, trying not to scream at the top of your lungs, settling with lewd, broken moans instead.

“Fuck, Armin, I’m gonna—I’m—” you didn’t manage to finish your sentence as Armin finally fucked your lights out, your heart skipping a beat as you struggled to breathe in.

“Ah, fuck,” Armin groaned as your pussy orgasmed around his dick, your face contorted with deep bliss.

He dropped his right palm beside your chest for support as the other dug into your buttocks, his cum spilling deep inside of you, sending a complementary shiver throughout your overstimulated body.

You were still rolling out on your high as you felt Armin’s body drop beside yours, his hand snaking around your waist and bringing you closer like a plush toy. You quickly wiped a stray tear of pleasure so that you wouldn’t alarm Armin even further.

“What was that??” you croaked, panting heavily.

“Huh?” he hummed, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“You fucked my brains out.” you didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckled against your skin, still struggling to weave a proper sentence.

“Shut up, that was incredible.” you ran your fingers through his messy tuft of hair. “You feeling better?”

He nodded, Eren and his questionable actions long gone from his head. “Oh yeah, much better. Thank you.”

He pecked your cheek sweetly, as if he didn’t make you forget your own name just moments ago.

other armin fics -> x

[yoonpobs]

to the touch | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc (ft. brother yoongi)

genre: mutual pining, fluff, cute crushes, brothers best friend

warnings: JIMIN that's it

words: 5, 216

summary: he's back

“You’re … you’re here?” You squeak and it’s not one of your best moments even if you were sure Yoongi would argue otherwise and that you rarely had average moments, to begin with. But there was something about spontaneity and surprise that threw you off in the worst way possible and made your brain short-circuit to the point where you’re unable to throw coherent thoughts together. And this was definitely a surprise, one that you’d never expected to happen because—

“I am,” Jimin says curtly, tossing you a firm nod of his head when he pushes you aside and steps into your apartment like he’s been year a thousand times. But in reality, it’s his first time standing at your doorstep, first time knocking on your door, and definitely the first step he’s ever had the chance to get a glimpse of how your living room looks like.

You’re still gaping at the entrance with the door open and you’re sure if any of your neighbors were to step out of their homes, they’d just see a lone girl outside that looked a little too unnerved to bother. When you snap out of it and turn your body to face your visitor, he’s already made himself comfortable on your couch and it’s hard to piece together the fact that Jimin was quite in fact in your living room, and lounging on your couch, staring at your television like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“W-What—how?” You croak because there are about ten million different thoughts running through your head but the most pressing one is how Jimin looked … different.

A good difference, for sure. He’s always been handsome and unreasonably so. Especially with the way that he’s dyed his hair back to black and the gentle fluff of how it lays atop his head. You note that he still kept his style despite him going MIA for three years and wore slacks that shaped his legs (and butt) beautifully with a casual shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was unfair how effortlessly good-looking he was on a spontaneous occasion while you looked anything but, especially with your sweats and old tank top.

But Jimin had always been a little hard to read. Terrifying and brassy all at once but never obstructive—although you’d argue that his presence was the obstruction as it is of how distracted you feel whenever he was around you years ago. It’s like you never learned how to accommodate his presence because he happened to fill every space with just his body even if he wasn’t that tall.

“I thought I’d pay a visit. Your brother gave me your address.” He says, finally turning his head to face you, and its still blank like every expression you remember made towards you. You expected nothing more or nothing less than the way he stares you over and makes you feel like the outsider in your own home.

“Yoongi …” You grit, cursing your brother mentally and hoping he’d make use of that stupid sibling telepathy power he claims he has to receive your gripe.

You clear your throat as you awkwardly shuffle closer towards the couch and hover awkwardly by the arm of the sofa to keep your distance. It’s been years and it’s still a little unfamiliar to see Jimin right in front of you, and not someone you kept at the back of your mind.

“You could’ve called …” You say softly while fiddling with your thumbs. Jimin just raises an eyebrow at you and you feel stupid for saying that already.

Some things don’t change and it’s proven when your heart still beats the same when he’s around you. You cursed at yourself for being weak-willed because you thought time would help you get over your silly crush on Jimin but you also long acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was more.

You hated falling for the cliches of crushing on your brother’s best friend, especially one that was just emotionally reserved and detached ninety percent of the time. The only conversations you remember having with Jimin were the ones that you were blushing at him when he looked at you a little longer than usual, or when he drove you to and from school when Yoongi left for university.

But then he disappeared, without saying goodbye and you only found out from his parents that he got into a dance program abroad and packed his things and left. Obviously, twenty-year-old you was devastated because you somehow convinced yourself that he enjoyed your presence even if he was huffing and puffing every five minutes when you’d fall into a ramble of your own.

He changed his number and he wasn’t a social media person so you had no idea what he was doing or how he was, besides the occasional mention of his name in conversations you had with your brother. It sucked. Majorly. Because you really liked him even if he was cold because you knew that Jimin was a good person. A cold and shitty person wouldn’t pat you on your head before your wisdom teeth extraction and mumble it’s okay if he wasn’t kind.

“The place is nice.” He ignores your statement and glances around your apartment and you feel smaller. You do feel a little relieved that he approved of the place, and you did spend hours browsing through catalogues and going through roommates until you decided that this was perfect. Granted, it was a little pricey but you valued comfort and a decent workplace to really get you motivated.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still shifting on the balls of your feet and Jimin just raises an eyebrow at your impersonal stance. You know he wouldn’t point it out because he wasn’t that kind of guy, but his face often spoke for him so you swallowed all the concerns you had and took a seat at the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Do you live alone?” He asks. You’re about to respond but he doesn’t let you.

“It’s dangerous if you do. Do you really just answer the door for anyone without checking who it is? You’ll get yourself into some serious trouble if you aren’t careful.” He chides you.

You want to scoff at him because you were an adult and you’ve learnt a few things along the road to adulthood. Jimin was always a little on edge most of the time and you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions so you never faulted him for it. But now, you were a little older and not as naive—but unfortunately still very much into him.

“God Jimin, it’s fine—”

The door opens and both your heads immediately turn to the source, and Jimin is sharp with his movements and you try to not allow your heart to flutter when he tugs you closer to him and hides your body with his own as if he thought it was an intruder. But you knew better, so you knew it was—

“Tae. You’re back early.” You greet your roommate who only eyes the man on the couch who has you situated behind him like he was your personal shield. His bag is tugged over his shoulder and you see a few of his art supplies threatening to fall out so you hop off the couch to help him with his belongings, and Jimin’s gaze just burns harder onto the back of your skull.

When you’re close enough, Taehyung leans in and gives a brief glance over at Jimin who is still piercing him with a fierce gaze.

“Why is your booty call staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens?” Taehyung whisper yells and you glare at him, pinching his hip because just because he thought he was being quiet didn’t mean that he could easily get rid of his naturally loud voice.

“That is not my booty call!” You respond equally as agitated, “That’s … Jimin.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulge out of his socket when he looks over your shoulder once more to still see Jimin glaring at the two of you.

“Why is he so fucking scary? You said he was nice!” Taehyung hisses.

“He is nice!” You weakly defend, “He’s just … scary looking?”

You know it doesn’t convince Taehyung because he’s sighing and dropping his belongings to the floor, offering Jimin as sincere of a smile as he can muster even though you’re fully aware that he’s terrified of the man on your living room couch.

“Hi! I didn’t know _____ was having guests over. I’m Taehyung.” He smiles brightly at said guest but Jimin just blinks at his cordiality and then looks over to you.

“Is he your boyfriend?” The question throws you off guard and you can tell that Taehyung even more terrified when Jimin completely ignores his presence even though he was the tallest person in the room.

You splutter for a response even if the answer to that was obvious. But Jimin had a shitty way of interrogating people, even if it probably would work in legal settings because he was just terrifying enough for you to stumble over your words and make you look guiltier than you were.

“Unfortunately not.” Taehyung thinks he’s saving you when he lightly jokes with Jimin. And you want to facepalm because Jimin was aloof and impartial to everything, and had horrible skills of reading the room because you were sure that Jimin thought that Taehyung wanted to get in your pants.

“Tae, would you excuse us for a second?” You smile stiffly at Taehyung who is quick to oblige as he darts into his room.

Jimin now has his arms folded across his chest in a manner that makes him look more hostile, but you knew him well enough that you suppose he just had a lot of questions.

“Did you really have to be like that?” You ask irritably as Jimin scoffs at you.

“Please, do enlighten me. All I did was ask you a simple question, which you couldn’t even answer. What was that about?” Jimin responds equally as displeased but you had so many questions and you didn’t need to deal with his mini tantrum right now, especially between the walls of your own home.

“Don’t turn this on me! You turned up to my house unannounced after three years of no contact and you expect me to bend at your will? What do you take me for? A puppet?” You retaliate with petulancy and you can tell Jimin is slowly getting more annoyed by the second but won’t blow up just yet. Or probably because you had another person in the house.

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You scoff at his audacity because Jimin was seriously so bad at reading emotions. You weren’t even sure why you liked him but your heart never made reasonable decisions for you.

“We haven’t spoken in years, Jimin!” You throw your hands in the air, “I didn’t even know where you were or what you were doing because you disappeared like you were running away from a crime!”

“Did I need to update you on my whereabouts?” You know his question is genuine even though it was posed a little rough and you want to pull at your hair because obviously, you wanted to know! Jimin was the person you spent the most time with, outside of school, and one day he wasn’t anymore.

“Of course! I thought we were—I thought … why did you just disappear?” For some reason, it was hard to say that you and Jimin were friends either because the only reason why he’d ever tolerate you in the first place was that he was a good friend to Yoongi and you were just someone that came with it by association. He never outwardly said that he hated spending time with you but he never said he enjoyed it either.

Jimin raises an eyebrow and stands up, and you notice that he still towers over you. He walks towards you slowly, and you feel all the hotter under his intense scrutiny that you just want to retreat to your bedroom and forget this ever happened.

“You don’t need to know.” He says and you feel yourself deflate, “I wanted to visit because your brother’s worried about you.”

The confession just annoys you because you knew to a certain extent that Jimin wouldn’t be here from … wherever he was … if it was only for your brother. He had to give a shit somewhere deep down in him enough to make an effort to get your address from your brother, then turn up on your doorstep unannounced with his usual impassioned stare.

“Oh fuck off, will you? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” You bite back.

Jimin shoots you an unimpressed stare at your snappishness and he won't lie and say that he was pleasantly surprised to see you after a long time. You were always pretty, in an unconventional way, he supposes. You never made an effort to look nice but just did with the way you approached life, even when you were younger. But now that you were standing in front of him with a bite that you didn't have when he left, he's intrigued.

"You weren't so rude before I left." He smirks at you.

His gaze also makes you burn and you avoid his eyes when it searches for yours. You hate that his tone makes you feel funny and that you wanted him to be a little mean.

"Yeah, well—that's what happens when you don't see someone after three years with no contact or notice. They change. They get a little annoyed because someone is just too emotionally constipated to ever make any effort to keep in touch." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? Needed me to keep you company?" He prompts.

You flush but still glare at him.

"Whatever, Jimin. I just would've appreciated it if you called. Or at least have done something to let me know that you were alive." You mutter.

Somehow, he's managed to cage you in with his body against the back of the sofa, and your breath hitches when you feel his broad chest pressed on yours. You didn't realise it happened until he places his arms by your side, effectively leaving you with no room to leave. You gulp because this is the closest you've ever been to Jimin and you feel dizzy. He smells fresh like laundry and flowers. It's a huge juxtaposition to his demeanour, but he smells good and you want to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"Why would I? You're Yoongi's sister. Not my girlfriend." He smirks.

You huff and roll your eyes. The reminder stings a little and you know he's baiting you.

"So? Were we not at least friends?" You snap.

He wants to laugh because you're obviously annoyed at the casual way he referred to you as Yoongi's little sister. You're frowning but attempting to pretend that it didn't bother you.

Jimin would be lying if he said he was never interested. Because he was, undoubtedly so. But back then when you were still navigating your way at the beginning of adulthood with Yoongi constantly breathing down his neck, he would have never done anything to compromise his friendship with your brother; or lead you on. But now you were standing in front of him, soft and sweet with a little edge to you that draws him in.

"Do you usually have crushes on your friends?" He pushes.

Your eyes widen and snap up to look at his teasing expression. His smirk is apparent against the rest of his face and you feel absolutely mortified that he's so close to you when he called you out.

"W-What? A crush? I didn't have a crush on you!" You rebuff him with a stuttery voice and you weakly try to push him away.

But he locks you in position with his hands around your wrist as he leans down and crowds you further with his presence.

"You didn't?" He feigns hurt, then he pulls away abruptly and you're immediately chasing his warmth, "Shame. I would've liked that a lot."

You gape at him when he shuffles away, putting some distance between the two of you as he dusts his hands on his slacks, giving you a curt smile; one that never reached his eyes but that was still Jimin being friendly.

"Y-You what ...?" You squeak.

Jimin shrugs and walks towards your door and you're half-terrified and half-relieved at the prospect of him leaving. But you're more terrified because you don't know if you'll ever see him again and with your current interaction you don't think you'll ever get over him.

"Usually a cute girl crushing on me would be a huge ego boost ... but you didn't, so ..." He trails off.

You bite your lips as you play with your hands. You know he's teasing you and you didn't know when he's gotten so forward, or good at this game. But you suppose Jimin has always been charming too, even if he was bad at emotions. He was good at playing them. And the way he rakes his eyes over your body only to bite his lip makes you burn in want.

He's about to turn the knob of your door but you reach out to grab his wrist before your mind can tell you it's a bad idea.

"W-What if I ... what if I ..." You mumble, hands wrapped loosely around his wrist as he turns around, leaning against the door the way boys do that was super hot for no reason.

"Speak up, bunny."

The nickname only makes you blush harder because it reminded you of all the times he's ever called you that stupid childhood nickname that somehow followed you up until adulthood. But you had to admit the way that Jimin uses it makes you feel ...warm. Like you want him to call you bunny for whatever reason he does so.

"WhatifIdid ...?" You mutter quickly and softly that Jimin leans in to get a better listen, also prompting you to speak louder.

"Couldn't hear you." He sing-songs.

You grit your teeth and swallow your pride because even after three years, you were soft and pliant for Park Jimin even if he was hot to the touch. You just wanted to please him.

"What if I did?" You say a little louder, braver, with determined eyes, "What if I did have a crush on you?"

He grins at you in Jimin fashion that was still a little reserved but warm because you knew him. You knew that was what he wanted to hear. So, he rests his body against the door and gestures his finger in a come-hither motion to get you to step closer, which you oblige. It should've been offensive that he could summon you so easily, but Jimin was a lot of things but he would never take advantage of your passiveness.

"I don't know. What would you have done if I hadn't left? Play friends? Family maybe?" He teases.

You scrunch your nose at the prospect of playing family with him because you've heard that phrase way too many times. Your parents at one point kept on saying how you had two older brothers instead of one because Jimin was always there, but they were blissfully unaware of your crush and the way you'd frown at the suggestion.

"We would've hung out more ..." You mumble.

Jimin snorts but cocks his head for you to continue.

"What's the point of this?" You huff, shutting your eyes when you can feel his gaze on you.

"You tell me. You were the one with the crush."

You want to correct him and say am the one with the crush, but you bite your tongue.

"You're the one who wants to know." You respond with indignation.

He chuckles, low and deep before he tilts your chin upwards with his index finger.

"You're still a little girl, aren't you ______?" You think it's the first time Jimin has called your name the entire time he's been here and you almost whine with the sultry look he's giving you.

Jimin applauds his self-control because you were a sight to behold. Even if you were in sweats and a tank, with your glasses drooping slightly down your nose and tangled hair, you still were so appealing even if you didn't know. You looked comfortable, homey and it did make Jimin burn with an ugly monster to know that 'Tae' could see you like this daily.

"Am not." You growl, but he only thinks you look like an angry bunny.

"You are. You don't know how to ask for things, hm?" He hums, tracing a finger up your jaw to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I so do know how to ask for things that I want. I do it all the time." You retort petulantly like you had a point to prove but Jimin only chuckles darkly.

"Then what do you want right now?"

Jimin's question is expected but it also throws you off-guard.

"R-Right n-now?" You stutter.

He tuts as if he expected your bewildered and shocked expression.

"When else but now, bunny?" He whispers as his gaze has you locked in a trance when your eyes dart to his lips when he drags his tongue over it. You're entrapped in him because his mouth suddenly looked really inviting.

"I really wanna ..." You mumble, ears flushing a pretty shade of red and you lean into Jimin's hand when he cradles your cheek gently.

Jimin was capable of being gentle, even though he chose not to. But he never was, though there was something about you that made his territorial, made him want to fight. He didn't know when he started feeling this way but he supposed it was a flurry of emotions and the accumulation of the times he's spent with you throughout the years. Three years didn't do him justice and only made him think of you more. He knew he was hard to read, and frankly even harder to understand. Jimin also knew that you were fully aware of this fact. But that didn't deter you in trying to get to know him, to prick yourself against all his edges that were harder to accept.

You were sweet and naive, a type of person that Jimin would usually scoff at. But your one-dimensional and idealistic view of the world was fresh to him, even if that meant you were living in your head most of the time. It never took away from the fact that you were kind and understanding. The type of person that cracked all of Jimin's harshness made him want to try.

But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun. He liked seeing you like this, gentle and warm, close to him as you look at him with a hazy expression.

"Wanna do what?" He prods, reaching his hand to the back of your hair to tug your face closer to his, but maintaining enough distance to prompt you to make the first move.

Jimin would do it. But he wanted to be sure that you wanted this, and not the idea of him. Sure, he was giving you hints and nudging you, but he also was aware of the fact that you'd never say or do anything that you didn't want. You were always clear-cut about this type of thing.

"You know ... that ... thing ..." You mumble, shifting on your feet as he glances down to your face.

You still looked unsure, but you leaned into his hold regardless, and Jimin took that as a good sign. You just need a little push.

"You know I'm not that bright. You need to tell me, bunny." He says gently.

You can't stop the small whimper in the back of your throat at the nickname and it's taking everything in Jimin's willpower to not take you against this wall. He would, but you deserved sweet things and he wanted to try be that for you.

"I ... I wanna ..." You whisper, "Wanna ... kiss you."

You clutch his t-shirt in his hands and when you glance up he's grinning widely as if he's won the lottery.

He nods his head ever so softly, and you take that as a cue to lean in.

When you do kiss him, you already feel your knees buckling because it's like everything you dreamed and more. Jimin was the right amount of assertive and gentle that makes you chase his mouth even if you were pressed up against him. He takes the lead eventually when his hand cups your jaw to angle your mouth deeper into his, and your body flush against his.

You feel like a teenager again having your first kiss, but it may as well be because you've always wondered what it was like to share your first kiss with Jimin back in high school.

"Is that all?" He whispers against your lips, but before you can respond—

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" You hear Taehyung squeak and that makes you pull away from Jimin, highly embarrassed to be caught making out with him against your door like a horny teenager.

You want to curse at Taehyung but he's already ducking into the kitchen before you can get any words out.

Jimin doesn't look affected, if anything, he looks pleased. The moment you shared a clear testament of who you belonged to and Jimin loved the fact of people knowing it was him.

When you look at Jimin, you're equally parts flushed from the kiss but giddy too. You give him a shy smile, and Jimin just chuckles lowly at your bashfulness.

"I'll see you around, ______," Jimin smirks at you when he reaches for the doorknob to leave. You follow him out, wanting a little more privacy even if it was in the hallway of your apartment complex.

When Jimin steps out and with you behind him, you swing on your feet as he observes your next actions. You clear your throat, even though you were confused and glad—because that was the closest thing you could get from Jimin that was affection so you'd take it.

"So ... what does this ..." You mumble, before shaking your head.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say about asking for what you want?" He berates you as if he was speaking to a child, but his tone is still curt and a little detached, but very like Jimin. You know that it's him and you like that anyways.

"Don't make me say it ... it's already embarrassing as it is ..." You whine, burying your head into his t-shirt.

Jimin welcomes the sudden closeness and pats you softly on the head. It's a little stiff because he still isn't used to physical affection that wasn't 'intimate', but he did say he would try for you.

"Again: I'm not that bright." He teases.

You roll your eyes, but then bite your lips when you see he's waiting for a response.

"... what does this mean for us?" You ask softly.

Jimin smiles at you and decides to grant you a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss that was so domestic and soft that you feel your heart soar.

"Check your phone." Is all he says when he waves you goodbye, as you stare at him dumbly, heart still fluttering and cheeks burning.

When you return back into your home, you lean against your door as you press a hand to your chest to feel the way your heart beats rapidly against it. You feel weak in the knees but so blissful that you let out a squeal into the palm of your hands.

Once you've calmed down, and offered Taehyung a look that said you'll explain later—you rush to check your phone, only to smile at what lies on the screen.

Unknown Number [17:21]: hi bunny

Unknown Number [17:21]: save my contact

Unknown Number [17:21]: make sure that when people see it they'll know you're mine

Unknown Number [17:22]: see you soon

Unknown Number [17:22]: if you're still a little slow ... it's jimin

Unknown Number [17:25]: ❤️

You notice the heart emoji was sent a few minutes after the rest of his texts, which showed you that he may have contemplated whether or not to send it. You feel your heart flutter, as you plop back onto your bed, a wide grin splaying on your face.

extra scene

"I'm sorry ... what?" Yoongi chokes on the piece of meat he just shoved into his mouth as he stares at his best friend in the face as if he'd grown another head. But as usual, he seemed to only attract people that were vastly similar to him, and Jimin's face is unreadable as ever. But Yoongi knows he's serious and not fucking around because he's looking intently at the older boy for a response.

"So?" Jimin says casually, leaning into his seat and Yoongi needs to chug down a glass of water to ensure that the food goes down all the way before he can say anything to the question Jimin just posed him with.

"You want my sister's address ... to ... I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong but I had a fall and I may have a concussion so I don't know if I'm hearing things right," Yoongi deadpans but Jimin just rolls his eyes at the older one's dramatics before nodding his head for him to continue.

"You want her address to ... confess to her?" Yoongi says hesitantly and Jimin nods his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn't. Because as long as Yoongi's known Jimin, he's been all detached and broody, uninterested in everything and everyone. He's never shown the slightest interest in anyone and usually opted for casual hookups than actual relationships so clearly, Yoongi is a little skeptical.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks baffled.

Jimin nods, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes. I went for a medical check-up that day and my doctor said he's never seen results as impeccable as mine." Jimin says blandly.

Yoongi scoffs.

"You're just not ... the dating type, you know? Much less ... with my sister?" It sounds weird to even Yoongi's ears. He grew out of his childish mindset and had no problem with Jimin dating you, but it was still weird to see his best friend showing interest in you.

"I like her. And I respect you. Which is why I came to you before I did anything."

Yoongi gapes at his best friend, who looks much softer than he usually does.

"Wow ... I just ..." Yoongi exhales, "Damn."

Jimin offers a small smile before gesturing to their food.

"At least we can really be brothers now." Yoongi jokes, sliding a piece of paper with your address on it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles fondly at the paper before tucking it into his shirt jacket.

The image of you in white, smiling and looking only at him drives him to see you the next day.