#i thought the song would be fitting um

[itslilacokay]

dear doppelganger

@greenmcgee hello i wanted to draw someof your designs um .... yeah

[artslovergirl]

casual by chappell roan – but make it 2007

art donaldson x reader

notes: okay so, originally this was just a part of a larger fic based around the entire song but um,, i have adhd. so. you get it. but i really liked this part that i actually got done so i didnt want it to collect cobwebs in my google docs lol. but i might think about finishing the whole thing! maybe!

wordcount: 1.7k

Your body was buzzing and tingling in a pleasant and almost numb way. Like the feeling of calm waves lapping at your ankles after having a tidal wave crashed over you. Everything felt warm, most likely due to the late June air and Arts warm arms wrapped around your already flushed body. You probably liked these moments the most. The afterglow. In these moments you could wholly bask in your connection to Art without the thought of you two being just 'casual' dragging after.

It wasn't like you hadn't known what you were getting into. Casual hook-ups and maybe the odd date here and there with a super hot tennis player from your art history course (you made the pun as soon as he introduced himself. He was nice enough to give you a fake laugh.) sounded like a great deal. And it sounded like one of those college-y things your roommate had urged you to do.

You just really hadn't been prepared for how easy it would be to fall in love with him.

Suddenly the warmth that his soft yet firm body was radiating against yours– that was so pleasing a moment ago– felt like an unbearable sauna. You gently untangled yourself from his embrace. He let out a small hum but let you go. Everything still felt warm.

Like routine by this point, you walk over to his dresser, not even bothering to pick up your sweaty discarded clothes from earlier decided on stealing a shirt and boxers from him like always.

You pulled open the drawer and felt your breath catch at what stared back at you. There was a small corner packed with clothes that werent there before.

Your clothes. Which wasnt surprising since you often just forgot your stuff after a late night. But what was surprising is that Art had made a small space for you in his drawer which was now occupied by your originally left behind but now freshly washed and folded shirts, underwear, some pajama bottoms and your favorite lacy bra (which was coincidentally Art’s favorite too).

A familiar shiver swept over your skin causing goosebumps– which you would really like to attribute to your severe lack of clothing but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore than you already had. This relationship had exceeded far past casual. Unfortunately –unlike the other times you had realized this and then vehemently shook away the thought– you couldn't ignore it this time.

Because it was staring you right in the face in the form of your favorite bra hanging out of Art Donaldson's dresser.

You had to face it: you were basically his fucking girlfriend. You were in a relationship without the labels nor the commitment. That's great. That's what everyone wanted, right? All the emotional involvement, none of the promise of loyalty or reciprocated feelings and a 100% chance of getting your heart broken.

…But he had to feel it too, right? Guys don't make space in their dresser for a girl they have no feelings for, do they? So maybe… Maybe this could have a happy ending? Maybe this could serve as the catalyst for you both to be honest about your feelings and realize that you're basically already dating and just make it official. It's not like Art had commitment issues, necessarily. It was more the opposite. He was too committed. To Tashi.

Either way you really just needed to figure out where you fit into his life. Because right now you were squeezed in between his sock drawer and the place where he kept his old tennis rackets.

“Are you okay?” Art’s voice snapped you out of your stupor. You mumble something that sounds like, “Huh..what?” and look over your shoulder to see Art giving you a confused stare from his bed.

His blonde curls were still all messed up from you running your hands through and tugging at them earlier. He was bathed in the warm glow of his desk lamp, softening his already adoring features all the more.

His face was smushed against his pillow as he was laying on his side, and he was giving you his best puppy dog eyes. Although, to be fair, he kind of always had puppy dog eyes. The upper part of his well-defined chest was visible, his pale skin still tinted with redness from you running your hands and nails all over it.

The sight made your heart stutter even though you saw him in a much more promiscuous position a mere half an hour ago.

He looked too good to be true. Sometimes he reminded you of those statues that had lipstick marks all over their marble lips because they were sculpted in such an enchantingly beautiful way that people couldn't help but kiss them. The name Art made a lot of sense, you thought.

Wow. You were whipped to an almost embarrassing level.

That thought made you feel like someone had poured a glass of ice water down your back, “Um..” You tried to regain your focus. “I hadn't noticed that you…kept a space in your dresser for me.” Your gaze swept back over to the drawer.

Mainly because you were sure that if you looked at Art any longer, your feelings would become irrevocable.

”Oh, yeah.” he said it so nonchalantly, in complete contrast to how you were feeling right now. He sat up with his blanket pooling over his thighs, exposing his Adonis belt and blond happy trail that led down to- You quickly flit your eyes back to the dresser in front of you.

Jesus Christ, get a grip, you mentally scolded yourself. There was a short silence that fell over the room. His gaze was still on you, trying to gauge what you were trying to communicate to him. He leaned back against the headboard and without him even realizing, he began running the pads of his fingers over his lips like he always did when he got nervous or felt awkward.

“Well.. I just thought since you stay over sometimes.. You know.” he explained, clearing his throat a little. You dug out your panties and one of your (used to be Art’s) Stanford shirts. If you were going to confront this, you definitely couldn't do it naked.

You didn't miss how Art's gaze never left you once while you were pulling on the soft cotton shirt and panties.

Once you were clothed again, you padded back over to his bed in silence. The mattress dipped as you let your weight fall onto the edge of it. You started shuffling your feet against the carpeted floor, trying to release some of the nerves washing through your body.

You could feel his bed squeak a little as he leaned forward towards you, letting his arms rest on his knees. The intensity of his attentive stare on you didn't exactly help the nauseating swirl of anxiety stirring in your stomach. You chewed on your bottom lip while scrunching up your nose, thinking on how to best approach this.

Tugging and pulling at the carefully crafted bracelet on your wrist, you started, “So..isn't it a little..much to keep space in a drawer for someone you're just hooking up with?”

You immediately worried your wording was making you come across too harsh so you almost stumbled over your words trying to follow up with, “Not that- I just mean…Um..I don't know like..what the..code?..on that is..” Yeah, nailed it. Real smooth.

Vaguely you could see Art’s face scrunch up in confusion from your peripheral, but you were too mortified by your clunky approach to face him fully. He began fidgeting, flicking his thumb under his ring finger. “..Um,” a nervous chuckle followed, “What–uh, what do you mean?”

You began pinching and pulling at the hem of your (his) shirt. “I just…” you sighed and it almost sounded annoyed– maybe the repressed anger at his refusal to acknowledge your deepening relationship was finally bubbling up–

“Isn't that something a guy would do like..for his girlfriend?” You turned your head to the side, finally facing him. He began staring at his bedsheets as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, fingers still fidgeting.

“I dont know..” he mumbled, “Not necessarily. It's just more convenient, right?” he added with a small shrug. You could hear the uncertainty wavering in his voice.

The sight of him all nervous and sitting curled up in on himself like a hedgehog trying to protect its soft underbelly almost made you regret saying anything at all. Seeing Art in any unease at all always sent a small pang through your chest. He just looked so…almost pitiful. You weren't going to back down, though.

“Art.” you tried your hardest to make your voice sound firm and stable. “Mh,” He raised his head finally meeting your gaze. His blond curls fell just slightly above his eye– he needed a haircut again soon.

Without really thinking about it, almost like it was an instinct, you had reached out and carefully brushed some of them out of his line of sight. It felt so intimate that it made you want to hurl so you quickly retracted your hand like his forehead had burned you.

You laid your hands down in your lap and stared at them.

“I think..things between us are..more than just a casual fling now. At least to me.” You really had tried to sound confident in your words but instead you almost whispered them. Like it was a secret you were ashamed to admit.

The few seconds between you speaking and Art responding felt like torture. You just kept staring at your hands, swallowing down the growing lump in your throat. The sound of him shifting on the bed felt almost deafening to you in the silence.

“I…” He awkwardly cleared his throat again, “I think I...like what we have right now.” That wasn't the response you expected. Or wanted. Was it even really a response? A metallic taste flooded your mouth. That's when you realized you'd been mindlessly chewing your bottom lip and were apparently too lost in thought to realize you had dug your teeth in far too deep. You didn't care about that right now. Your head felt like it was buzzing, completely overwhelmed with different thoughts and reactions to Art's response and what you should do next. “Okay.” is all you could manage. “Yeah, okay.” you exhaled softly, shifting your gaze back to him and nodding slightly. He nodded back, his expression indiscernible.

Despite what you said, you still let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms. And despite what he said, he still pressed a tender kiss to your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

[ham1lton]

DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME ?

summary: assistant yn takes to instagram to answer some questions from her followers!

pairings: mentions of lando/reader, lewis/reader, max/reader, charles/reader, jude/reader and oscar/reader.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who sent in questions! i can’t thank you all individually, but genuinely i want to say i appreciated your asks!!! this series has only gone on as long as it has due to everyone’s interest and contributions ! <3

— part of the dream girl universe!

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)

(the camera turns to show yn, smiling as she balances the phone against the bathroom mirror as she attempts to finish doing her hair as she faces the camera. she hums along with the song in background which is anticipating by britney spears.)

YN: hello my darlings!! i promised i’d do a ig live once i reached five million followers and here i am!

user1: HI QUEEN

user3: are you at lewis’ house?

YN: no, i’m actually at my own apartment. i do have my own apartment. i don’t live with lewis? you do know that right? it’s important to me that you know this.

user4: coulda fooled us.

user2: this song is a BOP!

user5: thought u were couch surfing.

YN: anyways, i’m gonna answer some questions.

user6: if you had to describe your aesthetic in 3 words, how would you describe it?

YN: hmmmm…. i’d like to say fun, loud and sexy. i like bright colours. my dream comparison is to the hot older sisters from those 2000s movies. y’know? love graphic tees but also form fitting dresses. best part of having a athlete as a boss is that i always get to use his home gym to work out! and i get tips from his nutritionist and personal trainer all the time.

user7: is that the best part of your job?

YN: um… obviously roscoe is the best part of my job. we’re besties. lewis hates it. you know those trends were the family stand next to each other and wait for the kid to choose who’s arms to run into? we did that with roscoe and he chose me. i don’t think lewis has gotten over the betrayal.

user8: it only happened once though right?

user9: maybe it was a fluke?

YN: he said that so we did it five times… and he chose me every time. i really can’t help it that everyone loves me!

user8: yn, what is your type in a guy?

YN: it’s so specific but it’s also not specific at all? like i’ll need to feel out vibes and chemistry before i can say yes or no? but generally i like guys who make me laugh, i feel comfortable around and who smell good. also a cute smile is a big bonus.

user2: i need your thoughts on the new f1 movie and the season so far!!

YN: lewis winning his home race was just pure perfection. he’s the GOAT. i don’t care what you twitter warriors have to say. also charles winning his home race was very emotional for me. that’s all i’ll say. lando’s race win was so much fun cause we were in the club for hours afterwards. the film is a bit much but i keep seeing damson idris everytime i walk onto the paddock and that’s a treat. he’s so fine.

user6: hey yn where and how do i bag a man like charles?? i need a play by play …. i want princess treatment too😩😩

YN: babe i’ve been asking the same thing but lewis forbade me from taking roscoe out on walks to entice rich monegasque men. it’s very upsetting to me. i’ll text charles about your proposal, maybe he’ll accept?!

landonorris: HI YN 👋🏼

YN: hi lando! we still on for tonight?

landonorris: always 😁

user10: what’s happening tonight??

landoynnie: MY TIME TO SHINE 😁😁😁

landonorris: i love britney spears too!

user9: landonorris name five britney songs GO!

landonorris: slave 4 u, toxic, hit me baby one more time, anticipating (cause yn always plays it in the car) and deep in my heart.

YN: i do love anticipating. this is my pump up and get ready song!

landoynnie: WAIT…. U AND LANDO SHARE THE SAME CAR?????? U GUYS R MARRIED REALLY

user10: landoynnie ur delusional

YN: my normal apartment is close to lando’s, so he gives me a lift sometimes. no biggie.

lewishamilton: next time i’ll order you an uber yn.

landonorris: it’s better this way lewishamilton, good for the environment 😁

lewishamilton: 🙄

user11: yn, what does your daily routine look like?

YN: wake up, get breakfast. i usually make my way over to lewis’ if i’m not already there. i feed roscoe, take him out for his business if you get my drift. play with him, triple check lewis’ schedule and then lewis will meet me at around seven. he eats, then he goes for a run or a workout. i don’t join him so i sort through emails and boring paperwork. a lot of my job is basically just emails and paperwork. then i go with lewis to whatever events he has that day, do a bunch of behind the scenes work and then i come back. i eat dinner with him most days, and then i go home and sleep!

user12: sounds boring.

user13: sound sexy omg. i would DIE to be around lewis all day.

YN (laughing): it is boring! it’s a job.

user13: what are your fav tasks to do for lewis?

YN: i get to drive his cars sometimes. he has a bad habit of forgetting things so i’m the one who jumps in the car and goes back and gets it. i love doing that. the drives are so smooth and i get to blast my playlist but i always blast my playlists.

user14: do u listen to xnda’s feature?

user15: i listen to ur playlists all the time btw!

YN: pookies, i listen to xnda’s songs all the time. i get access to his unreleased stuff. i’m there when he records it sometimes.

user14: IM SO JEALOUS

user16: THAT SHOULD BE ME 😒😒😔

user17: pookie they are saying youre fucking that bald guy for diamonds, bags and trips is it true??? please say it isn’t 😭😭

YN: WHAT BALD GUY?

user18: THE WAY U DIDNT EVEN DENY IT???

YN: i have never slept with anyone for diamonds or bags or trips. i work! i have a good salary and a great boss. you can check my bank account honestly.

user19: is ur type bald men?

YN: god no! shout out to the baldies though.

user20: LMFAOOOOOO

user4: yn, i heard you were interviewed quite a few times for this season of drive to survive. can you give us a little spoiler? what was it about?

YN: omg who’s leaking this info…. but yes! i was! a lot of it was just about lewis obviously but who doesn’t love hearing new info about thee sir lewis hamilton? i don’t think i can tell you anything more than that. i’m scared i’ll get sued or that netflix have a sniper trained on me and will shoot me before i finish the sentence.

user4: thank you for what you did tell us!

user21: what is the most unexpected song u and lewis have sang at karaoke

YN: well, lewis is a better singer than me. so i like to do the rap parts but he’s also a better rapper than me. so i do like the adlibs. but we did umbrella the other day! that was fun. i usually do karaoke with lando because we both get so drunk it’s fun. also he can’t sing at all. so it makes me feel better.

user22: what do you and lando sing?

YN: we did high school musical the other day! i was troy.

user23: HELSOSO

user24: lando: oh is this necklace ‘Y’ for yn? 😃

user16: if lando is gabrielle… who’s sharpay and stealing yn from lando….

user19: obvi oscar.

user25: i miss landoyn’s drunk ig stories.

user21: speaking of music, yn how did you feel when jessica left snsd 😔

YN: i remember exactly where i was. same thing when zayn left one direction. they both affected me personally. worst day ever. she was my bias too…. my comfort bad bitch….

user12: ZAYN LEAVING 1D OH GOD

user13: i remember that…. my school was in shambles!!!

user7: SHOUT OUT JESSICA GIRLIES … we all suffered together 😔

oscarpiastri: hi yn. what’s this.

YN: hello oscar piastri. this is my instagram live. do you have a question for me?

oscarpiastri: yes. what are you doing later?

user21: OOOP

user12: oscaryn comes up to clinch the title of couple goals.

lewisynnie: say ur busy yn <3

landoynnie: why is he asking out his teammate’s gf??

charlesynnie: landoynnie maybe because they’re not dating and you’re delusional?

landoynnie: charlesynnie says the CHARLESYN STAN ACCOUNT !!!

judeynnie: the way all of you are delusional. did you see yn like the jude tiktok edit? that’s her man.

lewisynnie: judeynnie A FLUKE! a mistake. maybe she just liked the beat. it means nothing.

maxynnie: well. this is a lot. hmm.

oscarynnie: SAY YES YN!!!! OSCARYN ENDGAME PLEASE GOD!!!!

YN: i am free this evening. what do you have planned?

oscarpiastri: i’ll text you, see you later yn!

oscarynnie: WE WON WE WONW EON WE WON

lewisynnie: oscarynnie who cares.

landoynnie: literally like… 😹

user21: YOU’RE ALL DELUSIONAL HOW ABOUT THAT !

END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (123K WATCHING)

— dream girl series taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun @sumlovesjude @papayadays

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi

[minhosimthings]

Brooklyn Baby

Symphony smut series Day 2: Lana del Rey's Brooklyn Baby

Lyric: My boyfriends' in a band, he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

Pairings: dom!Heeseung × dom!Jay × fem!sub!reader

Warnings: Poly relationship, SMUT MINORS DNI, vibrator, double penetration, oral (f and m recieving), dacryphillia, degradation, reader wears a dress, mention of breeding, Heeseung fucks reader with a vibrator, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (definetly not for you), threesome, kinda mean doms hee and jay

A/N: Day 2! I love this song with all my heart so I thought Jay would be the perfect fit cause duh, but then I was like why don't we make it a little interesting and add Heeseung into the mixture? Anyway this is my first time writing poly so please be kind everyone.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

When you took up the offer in college to be lead singer of a three-person band, you hadn't expected to become a celebrity princess overnight. What you also hadn't expected was for your two loving members, Heeseung and Jay, to become your loving boyfriends. A little bit of poly never hurt did it?

"Darling, we're going to be late if you don't hurry up." Jay peeked his head around the door, to see you applying your lip gloss all prettily around your lips.

The lip gloss he had gotten you.

"How do I look?" You turned to him with uncertainty. The dress was beautiful, one that your fans would adore. The makeup was also done to perfection by your '24 hour routine' as Heeseung called it.

"Beautiful as always." Jay responded, stretching his hand out to you, and twirling you around, relishing the tight fit of the dress against your waist, "I think engenes are going to want to steal you from me and Heeseung."

"Please." Heeseung's footsteps announced his arrival into the room, his eyes widening as they fell upon you, "They won't ever be able to do that.

"So protective." You wrapped your arms around Heeseung's neck, whilst Jay's stayed on your waist, "Are we ready?"

You looked into the mirror infront of you, where you all stood out perfectly in color coordinated outfits. A flurry of blues and purples perfectly describing your band's genre stared back at you in the mirror.

"Perfect."

"And now we have the overnight musical sensation! Please welcome Enhypen!" The host's voice boomed across the room, as you entered from backstage, both arms twirled in both your boyfriends' arms.

The audience applauded and hooted, cheering your names, the official fanchant over and over again and again.

"Well aren't they excited for today?" The host merrily laughed, as you sat down in between Heeseung and Jay.

"Well, welcome to the show! How are you feeling?"

"Nervous I guess." You answered with a slight chuckle, calming down as Jay's hand pressed on yours.

"Well of course! I believe you are excited for the live performance tonight?"

"Well of course." Jay responded this time. His perfume did smell good, you thought as you watched him speak with such eloquence. He did always have a way with his words everywhere.

"You're not ignoring me are you?" You heard Heeseung whisper into your ear, his hand creeping up to your thigh. You were thankful for the table infront of you which shielded the bottom part of your body, a part which Heeseung loved to touch.

His hand reached lower into your thigh, tickling your skin with his cold hands as he gripped them hard.

"And Miss Y/N!" The host said, snapping you out of the sudden urge to moan, "How would you describe your relationship with the boys?"

Great, you thought, another dumb question just for me.

"Um I'd say we're best friends." You nervously said. Revealing your relationship to the world wouldn't really be all sunshine and rainbows. "We've been friends since college actually, when we decided to form Enhypen. And well I guess we're close to family now." You awkwardly laughed to cover up the situation as the host moved on to the next question.

"And now, our dear audience let's get ready for the performance!" The host's voice boomed again, as the audience clapped their hands off.

A microphone and two guitars were all prepped and ready as you walked up, adjusting the mic to your level. Jay examined the guitar carefully and slipped it on, teasing the audience by playing a few notes on it, to which you heard girls scream his name. You smiled to yourself, remembering all the shit they wrote on your boys, all the fanfiction which they really thought would come true.

Hah as if! The boys belonged to you, and you only.

If only you knew what was coming for you after the performance.

"Best friends huh?" Jay pinned you against the wall, Heeseung's chuckles filling the room, as he slowly removed his belt and watch, "Too afraid to tell the world what we are darling?"

"Jay y-you know we can't." You reprimanded him, trying to take the upper hand. But only failure came to you at that moment, as you felt your thighs become stickier by the moment.

"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckled again, "Our good little girl. Why don't we teach her a lesson, huh Jay?"

Jay smirked at you, going in for a kiss before saying, "Want her first?"

"Nah you have fun, I'll take her later." Heeseung settled himself comfortably on the loveseat facing the bed, his legs wide open in a manspread.

You felt shivers around your body as Jay, picked you up like a rag doll and threw you onto the bed.

"We don't need this, do we?" Jay toyed with your panties. The straps of your dress pressed tightly against your shoulders and Jay, pressed his fingers to your clothed labia, removing the underwear with ease and depositing it on the floor.

The shaky breath you took made Jay smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh.

As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.

The room was dimly lit, courtesy to the closed curtains, but you could see Heeseung from the corner of your eye, smirking intently at Jay reaching down to your clit, one of his hands massaging the bulge on his pants gently.

Jacking off while Jay works his way through you, typical Heeseung, you would have scoffed if not for Jay providing heaven to you at that moment.

Jay's tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.

You can feel him grinning while he licks and swirls his tongue around your swollen nub, hands beginning to slow to a halt. His fingers pull almost all the way out you, causing your eyes to finally open and a noise of protest leaves your lips.

Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.

Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.

And just as you the climax reached closer and closer, your mouth almost about to scream-

"Jay!" You cried, laying an eye on Jay's face peeking out from between your legs, "Why'd you stop?"

Jay chuckled and glanced over at Heeseung, who sighed and got up, striding over to you, the buttons of his shirt slightly opened, giving him a more powerful look

"Only our girlfriend deserves to cum, but you're not her are you?" Heeseung moved to the atmosphere above you, as Jay slowly collapsed on the loveseat where Heeseung had been sitting, "Remind me what she is Jay?"

"Our best friend." Jay said, an unusually sadistic tone to his voice, "Do you want the vibrator or will you be going in with your fingers?"

"Hand me the vibrator." Heeseung said, stroking your thigh with his fingers again, eliciting a mewl out of you, "You wanna use the pink one princess?"

"Don't ask her that you know she'll say yes." Jay's voice could be heard from across the room, as he dug and dug into the cupboard, "Aha! There you go."

A needy moan falls from your lips as Heeseung presses the pink machine deeper inside your pussy, whining a bit as it clenches tighter. Pleasure rushes through your core while your moans grow louder and needier.

"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckles, "so fucking needy aren't you?"

He groans softly, biting his lip as he takes in the sight of you before him. Heeseung was never the one to keep his control. The vibrator slides through your folds absentmindedly, keeping you wet and needy. Heeseung's eyes darken a bit at the sight of your arching back.

"Fuck, princess," he whispers, kneeling on the bed closer to you. His free hand come to rest on your hips, sliding along, caressing your thighs, your curves in admiration and desire.

"How does it feel? Good?" he whispers, voice almost raw with need, "Do you want something better?"

"Fuck Heeseung!" You cry, feeling the vibrator switch to a faster pace, Heeseung pushing it deeper and deeper into you.

Tears falls down your face, the pleasure rushing through you almost being impossible to take. And yet, you didn't fuck two men at the same time to crumble so easily did you?

"Are you close, princess?" he leans his body over yours, whispering in your ears, "Do you wanna cum for me?"

“i-i’m gonna cum… fuck! Heeseung–!” you cry out, ready to tip over that peak until the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you was ripped away. "No!"

You whip your head around, glancing over your shoulder to see the shit-eating smirk Jay was wearing on his face.

“ah… i guess you really wanted to cum right?” he teases, one of his hands rubbing soft circles on his dick.

“aw… m’sorry baby,” Heeseung coos at you, his hands coming up to rest on your jaw. “but brats don’t get what they want, now do they?” he says, the grip on your face tightening.

“Think you can handle two dicks in your tight little cunt?” Jay teases, no having joined you and Heeseung in the bed. You've never heard him talk with such vile language before but you loved this side of him. “Yes daddy~” you moan out.

Skin colliding with skin filled the room, the sound bouncing off the walls.

With a loud moan you nodded, feeling how good the stretch provided by Heeseung's cock felt inside your cunt "right there daddy" you mumbled against the tip of Jay's cock before his hips slammed it inside your mouth once again. You couldn't help but whimper while his cock used your mouth, causing waves of pleasure to travel all over Jay's body who was harshly gripping a fistful of your hair as he deep throated you.

"You love doing this don't you, slut?" Heeseung chuckled, "Making us feel good?"

"but who fucks you better, huh darling?" Jay questioned, his eyes focusing on your face completely fucked out. Your ruined make up, your messy hair, the way your cheeks and nose were all red because of how roughly he was using your mouth and the sight of saliva all over your lips and chin made his cock twitch under your hand.

You moan around his cock with the sting of his condescension, feel Heeseung stiffen inside you with a rut of his hips, grazing your tender g-spot with the added swell. He stutters and curses, Jay grins through a breathy moan as he no doubt recognises the signs he’s seen a hundred times before.

"You wanna cum darling?" Heeseung's chuckle sounds like heaven to your ears, "What do you think Jay?"

"She's treatin me so good." Jay groans, feeling his cum in his belly, "Let her."

Heeseung nods, reaching around you to circle your throbbing clit with surprisingly firm and steady motions despite his impending release. He gets you there, bursts through the dam of white-hot pleasure with a final rut that forces you deeper onto Jay's cock, and the three of you come in an eye watering display of lust and synergy that shouldn’t be found in a group that says they're 'best friends'.

With Jay's cum dripping from your lips, Heeseung's from your post-orgasmic pussy, you wonder how you’re ever going to have sex again after this. Nothing could possibly come close to what you just experienced.

"Fucking hell." Jay collapsed on the bed on your right, while Heeseung did the same thing to your left, "That was good, wasn't it darl-" Jay's words stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you clinging to Heeseung's bicep, and lightly snoring.

"You wanna get showered?" Heeseung whispered to Jay, "I got your favourite shampoo."

"Nah wanna stay like this." Jay answered, wrapping his arms around your waist, spooning you into comfort, "Family." He scoffed, "The only family we're ever going to be is when we fuck our cum into her."

"That's what I was thinking." Heeseung laughed, the three of you holding each other and collapsing into a cocoon of comfort.

[whatifitis]

♡ In Between - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco has a nice night in, when you start to think about your guys relationship and wonder if it's time you tell him that you really like him.

WC: 2320

CW: overuse of song references, nothing really, it's quite fluffy, maybe some negative thoughts the reader has about themselves?

It’s a Saturday night, one of the least chaotic ones now that your best friend is a driver in F1. Franco was called up to fill Logan's seat for the rest of the season which is beyond exciting and you couldn’t be more proud. The only downside is that his schedule is so much more packed now that he’s getting acknowledgement from so many teams and people. All this new media coverage feels so insane. And something that doesn’t help is the fact that you’ve slowly been falling for Franco.

The two of you have been friends for a while. But in recent months, you’ve started to see him in a different light. You’re sure it’s just a crush but it’s been well over 2 months that you’ve felt this way. Some say that crushes only last about 2 months, once you’re past that mark, you’re actually in love with the person. You hoped this crush would go away, afraid to ruin what you have with Franco. Your relationship with him is the best that’s ever happened to you. You never want to lose him. But alas, the crush did not go away. So now you’re here.

It’s a bit late into the evening now. Franco asked you out for lunch earlier and now the two of you are lying on his bed, watching American Pie. The two of you were lying on the bed, side by side. Franco was lying with his back against the bed's headboard while you lied next to him on your side. The safest place you’ve ever known, next to him.

The two of you were halfway through the movie when he asked you a question that you didn’t quite catch the first time, so you angle your head up to look at him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Franco couldn’t help but laugh. When you moved your head to look at him, your glasses had skewed on your face.

His laugh always was so contagious, it always got you laughing too. When you two had calmed your laughing fits, Franco took his hand and adjusted your glasses into the right position, before leaning forward and gently kissing your forehead.

“You’re beautiful… and funny… And smart. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” You turned to bury your face in your hands, trying to hide your blushing face. You love it when he talks, not just about you. About anything really, he’s your favorite yapper and you wish you could listen to him all day. Your favorite sound ever.

“Hey, let me see that beautiful face again.” Franco says, grabbing your hand and moving it from your face. “Hi” he says when he can see you again. “Hi” you reply, smiling so hard. It was so hard to believe this was real, your guy's friendship. It was the type of relationship you’d always dreamed of, that sort of naive and innocent relationship that was filled with laughter and joy and… love? Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe considering you were just friends… Just. Friends.

“So,” Franco started, pulling you out of your thoughts, “What’s the dream?” “The dream?” you look at him, confusion written all over your face. “Yeah, the dream. Your dream. What you’re working towards.”

You laid there for a beat, thinking about it. What was your dream? All this time, you’ve just been focusing on surviving, not so much on the living.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I want to finish my masters degree in uni. Then after that, just… live, I guess.” you look up at him with a smile. “That’s it? You don’t have any other goals or anything?” - his eyebrows furrow, showing you a confused expression. You shake your head no. “You’re kidding.” - Franco snorts in disbelief. “Well, what are yours? Your plans, goals.” You ask as you sit up against the headboard of the bed. “Em, well, I guess F1 was always a big goal, and now I have it.” he sits there for a second, thinking, twisting his lips as he does, “I’ve also always wanted to have a nice house for my family.” “What does this house look like?” you ask. He takes a moment to think, trying to come up with an honest answer for you. “I never really thought about that to be honest. I just want something nice with enough space for my family. I think a pool in the back would be nice. A big backyard so we could have barbecues as well.”

You’re smiling at him, admiring the person in front of you. You could find the whole meaning of life in those eyes. You’re glad he gets you, and your dark sense of humor. And when you let him in on all your bad decisions, he made them feel less terrible the second that he’d listen.

Don’t stop talking to me. Maybe stay here forever, with me.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you say. “Thank you.” he replies, blushing at your words, “What about your house? Your dream house. Surely you have a dream house.”

You sit up straight, so ready to answer this question. You won’t lie when you say you’ve always wanted to be asked about this. “I do. Um, well it would have a green kitchen. I saw a picture of one online a while ago and just became obsessed with the idea. And the bathrooms would be pink and red, I just think that would look sick. Oh! I also really want a blue hallway.” Franco gives you a confused look, “A blue hallway? For what?” “There’s this band that I love and in one of their music videos, the band painted a wall in the house blue.” “Ah. Which song is the one for the blue wall?” “It’s called True Blue. It’s a song about the person you love and who loves you. This person knows you so well, maybe even more than you know yourself.” “Interesting” he nods his head as he mentally writes down the name of that song so he can listen to it later. He turns his body more towards you, asking “Do you have a true blue?” “I think I’m slowly discovering mine” - you confess. “What about you? Got a true blue yourself?” He looks at you before looking down at his hands and failing to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Well, go on. Tell me about them.” you insist. “She’s really cool.”

She? Was he talking to someone else? No, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s just a friend or something? Right?

“She is also really smart.”, he continues, “She loves reading and not only listening to music but also creating it.” Is he talking about me? I do that. “And she’s really good at that. She’s also the hardest working person I know. Like I mean she’s really smart, like Einstein smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. He’s definitely exaggerating but you have to admit, you’re pretty fucking smart.

“Oh, is she now? She must be one hell of a catch” “Oh trust me. She is and I’m very lucky to have her. She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just on the outside, that’s an added bonus. But she’s just incredible. And she laughs at all my jokes. And when I save the dirty ones for her, her nose crinkles. It’s really cute actually. Her voice as well, oh my god. The best sound ever. Like when there’s something she’s really interested in or really passionate about, she could talk for hours. That’s one of my favorite things about her. That and her laugh, I wish I could bottle up the sound of her laugh and keep it with me, so I can listen to it whenever I want. Don’t even get me started on how she is with my family. They all get along so amazingly, it’s so much greater than anything I could ever imagine. I think one of the selling points was my family loving her as much as I do. This girl also will drop everything for those she loves. It doesn’t matter if she has work or school or anything, she will drop it just to make sure you’re okay. And she will beat anyone’s ass if they hurt you. I think I’m falling for her. I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I’ve seen her. Now it’s like there’s daylight. Whenever I’m with her, everything feels okay.” “Wow.” is all you can say in this moment. Was he really talking about you? Or are you wishfully thinking he is? “Yeah”, he blushes, “wow”

You take a moment to take all that information in. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. You clearly see how amazing he is, other people are able to as well. Your mood kind of dampens from these thoughts. You really thought you two could be something. You guess you made it all up in your head, it’s just all one sided.

“What’s wrong?” Franco asks. “Hm? What?” you respond, startled from the sudden break of silence. “What’s wrong? You kind of spaced out.” “Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” “About?” he responds, sitting up from the bed to lean a bit closer to you. “It’s really nothing. Let’s keep watching the movie” you try to smile and lighten the mood again.

You move to raise the volume on the tv, but you feel Franco’s hand wrap around your wrist lightly. You turn back to look at Franco. He looks confused, and a bit scared?

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit

You return to your spot on the bed, not fully relaxing as his last sentence is kind of terrifying. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” “I need to tell you something… about that girl.” “Oh”

Damn, alright. Keep bragging about how it’s not me, I guess.

“Well, I know she often thinks negatively about herself. Like she doesn’t deserve that type of stuff. Like love and happiness. She also has a hard time believing that people really do care about her. But I do, I love and care about her so much. And I know she’s afraid of letting people in, and she’s let me in a bit, but I want more with her.”

Ok, fuck me then. Wow, leave it to Franco to absolutely break my heart, unknowingly.

“So, what did you need from me?” “You dumb ass, it’s you! You’re the girl. You’re my true blue.” he lightly laughs.

What.

“What.” you stare at him blankly.

What the fuck? Is he for real right now? How though?

“I like you. I want more with you! You’re my true blue! I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever.” - his tone is quiet as he confesses his feelings for you. You sit there silent for a moment before catching something. “Bitch, did you just quote Taylor Swift?!”

He looked to the side for a minute, as if he was thinking or trying to remember something while he pursed his lips. “Yeah?” he laughs, “I know you like her a lot so I listened to her a lot to try and learn some of her songs. They’re pretty good”

I’m going down without a fight, I don’t know how he does this. He makes me really nervous. What is he doing to me now?

“You listened to her… just for me?” you ask, still hesitant on whether he’s being serious or just messing with you. Cause you’re still falling for him and you can’t stop. This might be the thing that breaks you if it doesn’t end well.

“Yes. Staying up with you, despite the space between us. I’ve never felt so close to someone. You came out of the blue like a shooting star. You wait and wait for it to appear, and when it does, it illuminates its surroundings, just for a second. And that is the feeling that I want to feel forever. Everytime I get to see you, it’s like you illuminate every space you walk into.”

What if he’s my weakness?

“I- I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been keeping on my mind on the running away. And for the first time, I’d consider to stay. I know I make the same mistakes a lot and I never learn. But I think I did one thing right.” you say, smiling as his starry eyes spark up this dark night.

He’s looking at you with so much admiration in his eyes.

“I got so damn close to packing it up, then you happened. I’ll never leave out the back door and I don’t plan on running away from the good things anymore.” - you continue.

The two of you just sat there in silence, staring at each other with smiles plastered on your faces. Franco is the first to break, moving closer to you, leaning close to grab the side of your face.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

You’re close enough to feel each other breathe. Just one inch closer and… His lips are on yours, connecting gently. They’re warm and soft. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together. At the same time, Franco brings his other arm to wrap around your torso, grabbing the side of your waist so you don’t slip away. It’s like taking your first breath of air in years. You feel his lips on yours as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

After a few moments, you break the kiss, needing to actually take in some air. Franco’s hand is still on the side of your face, slowly he slides it down to connect your fingers with his.

“Can I be yours?” he asks, “Your forever true blue?” he asks. “Forever and always”

[plutoswritingplanet]

Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: guys... you can't tell me y'all weren't expecting this. Title from the song "Vicarious" by Tool. Really wanted this to be a one shot, but as usual, I have shit to say. Will be Cross-Posted on AO3 as soon as they open the site back up.

Warnings: Nothing Explicit YET, some sexist remarks and creepy behavior from the man of the hour, Questionable Corporate Ethics, Set Before The Events Of The Show, Reader is written to be Plus Size.

Summary: Sidekick projects have been scraped completely after numerous accidents, but as a viral video of your hero work makes rounds through the public, you're forced to take part in a six moths program, that will forever change your life, as well as Homelander's

PT.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

It all started with a video. An insignificant, minute-long nothing posted to TikTok by an account, that up until then, made short edits specifically of A-Train and some B-list no-name hero. Quickly, it gained traction, making rounds throughout the app, bleeding over to other services, all the way to national television. First, an independent local station, soon picked up by a Vaught-affiliated one. Normally, that's where it would've stayed. Stillwell would extend an offer of a chance at an interview, alongside one of the Seven. But for some unknown reason, that small piece of nothing climbed all the way up to the floor eighty-two of Vaught Tower.

Well, to be quite honest, Stillwell knew exactly why she was in this situation. After a very messy graduation speech at a small college, Homelander lost almost twenty points with a young adult demographic. It would've been an easy fix, if not for the delicate nature of the breached subject, and Madelyn knew, this sudden interest in a nobody from nowhere, who, coincidentally, fit the demographic perfectly, was anything but a happy accident. It was a test, both for Homelander, and for her.

Which is why, Madelyn Stillwell and Homelander, the Homelander, the most American supe to ever exist, are cooped up in your living room, glancing about the modest decor, as you pour iced tea into three glasses with tacky fruit print all over them.

You've refused every single invitation, every single Vaught representative that knocked on your door. Your inbox was flooded with emails, your phone number was blowing up two, three times a day. And yet, your answer remained the same. You were not interested in a collaboration, thank you for the opportunity, please leave me alone.

That wouldn't fly, not with Madelyn, who, pushed by the constant nagging from the upper levels of the Tower, decided a more direct approach was the right one. So, she dragged herself into this… Well, to be quite honest, bum-fuck-nowhere, and brought her star pupil with her. No one would refuse working with Homelander himself, after all. At least that's what they both thought.

-I appreciate the effort - there's a practiced, borderline bored intonation in your voice, and Homelander's hands flex on his thighs - But I've already talked with, um, Jerry? From HR? The answer is still no.

Your house is small, but cozy, with sunshine pouring through the windows, reflecting onto the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway to your kitchen. An artist's home, through and through. Homelander hates it, hates the ordinariness of it all. He was so much above all this, sitting on your worn down couch physically hurt him. And the smell. The smell was the worst part. Reheated lasagna, mixing with a lingering aftertaste of cigarette smoke, and an undercurrent of weed, that almost made him retch. If it weren't for that damned video, you would be nothing more, than another brainless ant under his boot.

-Well, we - Madelyn offers her best, brilliant smile, gesturing to herself and Homelander - are very passionate about discovering new talent.

Your mouth twitches into a knowing smile, and for just a second Homelander feels flames of intrigue rising in his chest. Not for long, though, because you recline back into an armchair, taking a sip of the iced tea, and his eyes flash to the way your throat moves as you swallow. You could be hot, he concludes. Young, and with a truly spectacular rack. But there was something off about you, like you were constantly on the verge of dying from boredom, some invisible weight always on your shoulders. No amount of fake smiles and high-end makeup could cover that up.

He'd fuck you. If you'd beg him.

-We want to offer you a new, revised contract - Stillwell extends her hand with a rather thick binder of papers, and you hesitate for a moment, before reaching over. - Hopefully, it will make you reconsider.

You don't even show them the decency of looking through it, placing it on the table instead, and Homelander feels an itch form itself in the corners of his eyes. Stillwell looks taken aback as well, her brilliant smile faltering for just a second. You on the other hand, take another sip of your drink, before placing it right in the middle of the contract, the moisture from the ice creating a wet circle in the paper.

Your heartbeat is even, it doesn't pick up even a smidgen, when you look between Stillwell and America's Greatest Hero, who is slowly but surely growing annoyed by your persistent indifference.

-Thank you, but I already said no - you repeat, and this time, Homelander shifts on the couch.

-And why not? - he asks, tension entering his voice in a way, that makes Madelyn squirm - Countless supes, with much more impressing powers than you, I might add, would kill to be in your place.

"To work with me" goes unsaid, but he can see in your eyes, you read it from thin air of superiority engulfing him. Annoyingly perceptive. You nod your head slowly, before turning away from them, looking out of the window of your living room. There's a small patch of grass, and a second house, so similar to yours, but at the same time, completely different. Your chin sticks out in its direction, and Homelander follows with his eyes.

There are paper butterflies stuck to the windows, cut out clumsily, most likely by children's hands.

-My neighbour, Missus Johnson - you explain - She lives there, with her three kids. Her husband died in a fire caused by your friend, Lamp Lighter.

Madelyn stills, Homelander raises an eyebrow.

-I can afford this house, only because my mother signed an NDA, after The Deep sank my father's fishing boat. - again, your heart stays completely unaffected - Accidentally, of course.

-I was not aware… - Madelyn starts, and it's hard to decipher whether she's talking to you, or Homelander.

Someone at the research department is going to have a very unpleasant evening.

-That's alright - you interrupt her with a raised hand and a small smile - This whole neighborhood is filled with similar cases. And I'm very, very attached to this place.

Why, Homelander couldn't tell. For all he knew, this was some shit hole, right in the suburbs outside New York. Not even the half decent ones. A forgotten by everyone, dying piece of land, that housed insignificant humans, who would never amount to anything, you included. He lived in a lavish apartment, inside a miracle of modern architecture. Who wouldn't want the same?

-And - there's something new entering your tone of voice - If I'm going to betray everything I stand for, I need to give something back to those people. Does your contract reflect that?

Madelyn bites the inside of her cheek, her scrutinizing gaze making your skin itch. Still, she sighs after a moment, excusing herself with that same, practiced expression she uses on every shareholder. Homelander follows her out, nodding his goodbye to you, but before he can leave this dump, Madelyn stops him with a hand pressed against his chest. She gives him one look, makes him aware that his job isn't over, and he can feel the muscles of his face twitch.

So, obediently, he lingers in your doorway, taking a few calming breaths, before facing you once more.

You've changed positions, your armchair abandoned in favor of sitting by the window, one leg bent in a way, that shows quite a nice view of your calf, your long skirt pooling around you. Homelander's eyes trail up with mild interest, and he indulges in his X-ray vision. He's just being curious, nothing more.

Your underwear is, well, for the lack of a better word, plain. The bra seems to be slightly ill fitted, digging into the sides of your breasts, making them almost spill from under your pits, and Homelander swallows thickly at the sight. There are little, pink hearts on your panties. The colors are dull and washed out from frequent use, and the once frilly lace is starting to fray at the edges.

Apparently Vaught's compensation was not sufficient for you to buy some decent undergarments.

-Do you want something to eat? Drink? - you ask from your place by the window, and Homelander is snatched back to reality - Do you even need food?

The bluntness of the question startles him, makes him feel defensive, but Madelyn wanted results, so he puts on a mask of his trained smile, and crosses the room. Back straight like an arrow, he looks wildly out of place between all the linens and cushions. He doesn't look at you, trapping your smaller form in the confinement of the window, as he watches over the neighboring house.

-I'm not hungry - he shoots down your offer with a wave of his hand - I've already eaten.

A lie, but he'd never stoop low enough to take any leftovers, especially from you. Still, the offer seems nice. He does like being pampered, even if it's with lackluster things. Your eyes linger on his boyish smile, another practiced thing, and Homelander shifts focus to your heartbeat once again.

-Alright then - your voice sounds indifferent as ever - Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to make some dinner for myself.

He offers a small nod, and watches you from his position by the window, as you slip past him. It does require quite a lot of manoeuvering, but you manage to stand without touching him. He has to admit, watching you balance, as you try to avoid him, was amusing. Still, your heart beats calmly, and, not wanting to be left on his own, Homelander follows you to your kitchen. The beads of the courtain drum delicately over the bronze eagles on his shoulders.

The fridge is buzzing something awful. He can see just how run down the inside mechanism is, the hinges squeaking unbearably, as you reach for a box of reheatable spaghetti. There's cheep beer inside, a moldy lemon, a carton of milk pretty close to expiring, and a half-used bottle of spicy ketchup. Homelander doesn't even recognize these brands, they're not sponsored by Vaught, that's for sure.

Cheap, tasteless, basically offering no nutritional value.

-Would you step back for a second? - he asks, already wrenching himself between you and that pathetic excuse of a meal.

Again, your body sways to avoid touching him, and for some unknown reason, he finds it very amusing.

Then, you watch with a raised eyebrow, as he turns towards your spaghetti, a red sheen overtaking his eyes. An unbearably hot beam shoots out, making the insides of the plastic packaging sizzle. Finally, that gets him a reaction, as you gasp and reel back, colliding with the barely functional fridge. Your heart does a flip inside your chest, and Homelander soaks up your shock like a man starved.

Only when the red fizzles out of his gaze do you dare to move, approaching him slowly, your eyes bearing into him in a way that is frankly uncomfortable.

He turns to you with another one of his charming smiles, trying to handle this sudden scrutiny in as flippant a way as possible.

-I had no idea you can control the intensity of your lazer - you admit, voice slightly breathless.

-Pretty neat, huh? - perhaps he's fishing for more attention, but he doesn't care, because your eyes light up for just a moment in sheer wonder.

-Super cool, actually.

Yeah. Yeah, that's fucking right, he is super cool. And your heart is beating so much faster, and finally you're looking at him as if he's more than just some guy, some living advertisement you're determined to ignore.

And then your eyes shift, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, as you zero in on his shoulder. Something akin to a wave of amusement flickers across your expression, and to his general surprise, Homelander wants to know what's the cause of this shift. Your lips pull back into a smile, teeth peaking at him in all their glory. He can almost imagine them running down his skin, before he pushes the thought back all together, as the lower portion of his suit becomes slightly too tight for comfort.

-Well, thank you for saving the spaghetti - your eyes hold a spark of amusement - My hero.

Okay, alright, he's hard. There's no point denying it. However annoying and insignificant you were moments before, your quip goes straight to his loins, burning enough, for him to consider just how mad Stillwell would be, if he'd have a taste of this newly discovered talent.

If he stands any closer to you, he might find out, because this special little moment you two have shared, is crudely interrupted by Madelyn clearing her throat. Homelander nearly jumps back, you however barely turn your head, reaching for your spaghetti and arming yourself with a fork.

-I've spoken to my supervisor - Stillwell announces, clearly peeved by the way you start chewing on the noodles - A new version of the contract will be emailed to you as soon as possible. Hopefully it will be satisfactory.

-Thank you, Miss Stillwell - you answer with an inclination of your head.

With that, Madelyn nods her goodbye at you, refusing to shake your hand, which does amuse you, you're not going to lie. Homelander however, goes all out, capturing your fork-weilding arm, his fingers sneaking around your wrist like a bracelet. Or a shackle. Then, you watch with a confused arch to your eyebrows, as he brings you closer, until his lips press onto the protruding knuckles. Now that, admittedly, gets your heart going. You were not an easily embarrassed person, not by a long shot, but you could feel blood rushing towards your face all the same.

He has to hold his breath, as he kisses your hand in that charming, gentleman way he's seen in old movies. The smell of pasteurized tomato sauce blows in his direction, like a direct assault on his senses. Still, he needed something that would make you swoon. If everything failed, he knew how to be intimidating, but for now, perhaps he wanted to try something different. Something that would yield much more pleasant results, for the both of you. Mostly for him, let's be honest.

Madelyn asks him to stay back, spy on you throughout the night, and he begrudgingly agrees, if only to mask the fact, that he would do so of his own volition, had she not brought it up. And as such, he floats into the rapidly cooling air, disappearing into the darkening sky, where you wouldn't be able to see him even if you tried. He could see you however, and hear you, and he was about to make the most of the situation.

He spends the whole evening just watching you exist within your space. Normally, it would piss him off beyond belief. You weren't doing anything scandalous, anything that could warrant his attention. And yet, as he floats on, in time lowering himself just slightly, to get a better view, he just can't seem to look away. The spaghetti is gone in approximately fifteen minutes, as you inhale the supermarket food, walking around the living room, the kitchen, getting a few bites on the porch even. You seem so utterly unfazed by the events of the past hour, like you haven't just had America's Greatest Superhero try to convince you to work with him. It's honestly insulting, this lack of reaction.

Then, finally, he can hear a distinct ping of a new email come from your laptop, and you sit down on the couch with a small huff. Your eyes move, your lips twitch, and then he hears your heart stop in your chest. As if working on autopilot, your hand travels up, covers your mouth in shock, and you lean back against the worn-down sofa, eyes glued to the screen illuminating your face in a blue-ish light.

-...fuck… - you whisper, and despite himself Homelander floats even closer to your window.

Finally, he has the chance to peak over the curtain. To sneak into the backstage of the award winning production of your defenses, and see what goes on in those bored eyes of yours, when they're not guarded. And what he sees makes his suit feel much too tight, his body too warm. Quite an unusual thing to get so worked up about, but he's the goddamned Homelander, he can get hard whenever he fucking wants. And so, as saliva gathers on his tongue, he presses himself against the tiles on your roof, all the warmth of the day soaking into his skin through the thick material of his suit.

With a shaky hand you reach over towards your phone, putting in a number and pressing the call button, before standing straight from the couch, almost knocking the laptop over.

-Hey, what's up? - someone says on the other end of the line, and Homelander tries to focus more on the words flowing from the receiver.

-Oh, you gotta sit down for that one - you warn with an anxious chuckle, taking the familiar place by the window.

With your free hand you reach up to open the window all the way. Then, Homelander sees your fingers slip between the pillows and pull out a rather beaten up pack of cigarettes.

Naughty, naughty, he thinks, watching you produce a lighter from that same hiding place.

-Alright, I'm sat like never before.

The voice sounds vaguely female, although the shitty quality of your phone makes it hard to decipher. Your lips pull back into a toothy grin, and you blow out the smoke through the window. It curls upwards and dissipates into the air, right above the roof, where Homelander swallows thickly around a coughing fit.

-You will not believe who visited me today…

-The ICE - the voice deadpans, and you snort around another huff of smoke.

-Pretty fucking close, let me tell you - he doesn't appreciate the joke, not at all - Fucking Homelander.

The line goes completely quiet for a moment, and with every second your grin seems to be growing.

-Deadass?

-Yup - your lips purse, and Homelander zeroes in on the expression - Flew in all Star's Spangled Glory with some Vaught big fish. They tried to convince me to join the Seven.

-And obviously you said yes, because what the fuck else do you do in that situation?

Your grin slowly fades away, and you lean your forehead on the window frame.

-You didn't?

-I didn't.

Again, it's quiet.

Homelander shifts a bit in his position, adjusting against the warmed up tiles of the roof, his X-ray vision bearing into you. Out of curiosity, he looks deeper, eyes floating over your insides. You're relatively healthy. Some vitamin deficiencies, but nothing too serious. And despite that nasty habit lodged between your fingers, your lungs are clear, at least for now. There's a softness to your body, your muscles barely visible, as if you're just another gray human. Oh, and there's a bit of an eyesight problem forming, not enough to warrant glasses, but that shouldn't take long, considering your lifestyle.

-The contract they gave me was really good, you know - you muse to the phone, your leg dangling from the windowsill - Six months of working under Homelander, a Sidekick kinda situation.

-I thought they scraped the Sidekick program - the person on the other side wonders - Too many casualties or something.

-Yeah, well I guess they want to bring it back.

-Why did you say no then? I'm sure they pay is gigantic.

Again, you smile. This one much more reserved, bordering on sad. There's that strange kind of exhaustion settling into your bones again, same one Homelander noticed when he first saw you. Your shoulders slump forward, and you curl into yourself between the cushions.

-It was, it was… - you mutter - But I needed something more, for the neighborhood, ya know?

Your caller hums softly in understanding, and Homelander feels like something is passing him by. Some unspoken fact, that you and your friend find obvious.

-And - you hesitate, eyes flickering towards the laptop, your heart beat picking up ever so slightly - They sent me a revised contract. And it's fucking good. Really fucking good. It could help this entire place get back on its feet.

-But you still don't want to - the voice says for you, without judgement.

-No - you sigh - I really, really don't.

-Say no then - your friend supplies, and once again Homelander feels a flame of annoyance start to burn within him - No one else knows about the contract, there will be no expectations.

Slowly, you nod your head, clearly relieved by the way your friend reacted to the news. Homelander however, caught you right where he needed you. That's your lever. Not seduction, not intimidation, just plain, stupidly human guilt.

-Thank you - you whisper into your phone, finally smiling again - Oh, wanna know one more thing?

-Obviously.

-Homelander's wearing a padded suit.

Something's stuck in his throat, as he reels back from his position. Before he can stop himself, his eyes begin to glow red, because how the fuck did you know?

-Okay, that's bullshit.

-Unless his shoulder dislocated in the middle of talking, then no, it's definitely not bullshit.

Your friend gives out a choked laugh, one which you mirror with your own. If Homelander wasn't so utterly flabbergasted by your (correct) observation, he would've stopped to appreciate the sound. As it stands, however, he pushes himself off your roof, a couple of broken pieces falling off of the tiles. And then he's up in the air, cutting through the winds, headed straight for the Tower, leaving you in the comfort of your insignificant, smelly home.

The contract is leaked before the sun is up.

You're awoken to thousands of news articles flooding your timeline, all listing the truly wonderful and selfless points in the fated email. With a white face, you read them all, the speculations, the theories, the angry comments about you being chosen without an actual casting, while all those up and coming supes are busting their asses in auditions.

Soon enough, you're visited by every neighbour possible, congratulating, thanking you. A barbecue is set in the street, as a way of celebration, and you want to throw your phone, and subsequently yourself into the nearest river.

Madelyn Stillwell sends you an email, scheduling a meeting at the Vaught Tower. No need for pleasantries at this point, you stare at the bare bones invitation. "We eagerly await the start of our partnership" looks back at you, mocking your resolve. And thus, the end of your life as you know it begins.

"Project Delinquent"

The words are printed in an ugly, corporate font, and they stare back at you, outlining the mold you're supposed to fit in, in such a perfect way, it actually, almost makes you retch. True, during high school you were quite the little rebel, but people grown and learn, and seeing your character be watered down to that simple word, does send a wave of nausea through your insides. Even if this is hell of your own making, even if you're ready to swallow it all down with a smile, there's a pang of humiliation stinging your heart.

The armchair in Stillwell's office is uncomfortably narrow. It barely has enough room to accommodate your hips, and you wonder if this design is intentional. There is a growing ache in your calves, as you sit so close to the edge, you can't fully relax into your position, balancing on your feet instead. The armrests dig into your sides, and the way the sun is shining through the gigantic windows of the office, is shaping this charade of a meeting into an overstimulating nightmare. Still, you endure. For all the wonderful benefits enclosed in your contract, the charity work Vaught is going to supply.

Or at least, that's what you keep telling yourself, stuck between the marketing department representatives and a literal Devil of a woman.

Madelyn Stillwell doesn't know what to make out of you. Your files were filled with all sorts of questionable activity, especially around the college area. It's honestly a miracle you've managed to get your degree, and attend all those silly little demonstrations at the same time. Your criminal record has been wiped clean, weeks before you even agreed to sign the contract, just in case any leaks would find their way into the media. Leaks that were not orchestrated by Madelyn, of course.

High school rebellion was almost too easily marketable, Madelyn decided to focus on that part of your life as much as possible, her vision slowly coming to fruition. All she needed, really, was cooperation. And while you seemed to be mostly receptive to her ideas, she needed to make sure Homelander was on his best behavior. Which, well… Could go sideways in the worst way imaginable, but Stillwell tried to have some faith in her best superhero.

The idea of releasing details of your contract to the public, was a stroke of genius, she did not expect from Homelander, and she made sure he was thoroughly rewarded. With him, it was always better to choose the hands-on approach, unfortunately. With you, however, ideals were the key. Whatever feeling of solidarity you harbored towards your neighborhood, provided a leverage relatively easy to control. Still, as Stillwell looked you over, crammed into her office in your, frankly, lousy attire, she couldn't help but be just a tad worried about your compliance.

-…And then - the marketer continues with a dramatic gasp - Homelander comes in. America's Greatest Hero, offers you a mentorship. And you…

You look up at the representative with a rather sour expression. They have to work on that too. Media training was crucial. You won't be able to sell anything, if you keep grimacing like that all the damned day.

-… Are starstruck - your mouth twitches - You strike up a deal, selfless. A rebel with a heart of gold. Finally, you can make some real change happen, so you push aside your anti-corporate values, to discover, that Vaught is so much more, than you could possibly imagine.

It's hard not to laugh, and you swallow thickly, biting your lip, as a middle-aged woman you don't recognize gets up from the couch, and makes her way to the wall opposite of your torture chair. There, tucked in a corner and hidden under a black cloth, stands a mannequin, roughly your size. With a flourish you find utterly out of place, the woman tugs at the cape, and as it falls to the floor, so does your stomach. You can't hold it in any longer. A rough snort of laughter rips out of your nose, and you cover your mouth instantly.

-That better be a laugh of delight - Ashley, a ginger menace, mutters under her breath, and Stillwell turns to you with a tight expression on her face.

-Something the matter?

-I mean - you take a deep, grounding breath, tying your amusement in the back of your throat - I knew it's going to be skimpy, but this is…

You look around the room, seeing various stages of corporate outrage, and then you lock eyes with Homelander. Stillwell insisted on his participation in the meeting, as the both of you are supposed to work closely together, and throughout the whole ordeal, he looked borderline ready to die of boredom. Now, however, his eyebrows lift in a curious manner, as he takes in the, to be completely honest, horrendous costume, and your full figure. Something dangerously close to disgust twists your features, as he shamelessly drags his eyes all over your body.

Who would've thought America's Sweetheart was a fucking creep?

Rolling your eyes, you get up from the cursed armchair, your knees cracking loudly. Crossing the room, you take a closer look at the clothing, or rather, lack there of. Torn fishnets, plaid tennis skirt, and a corset top, made out of some leather-like material. Truly, a fetishists wet dream. Your fingers sample the fabric of the skirt. Surprisingly stiff, it seems to beg for a wardrobe malfunction. With a frown pulling down your lips, you lift the material up, and as expected, find no safety shorts underneath.

Homelander watches you intently, as you inspect the costume. Just the thought of your soft body in this skimpy, corporate bastardization of a rock star, makes heat rise in the lower part of his stomach. With every disapproving pull of your, and don't quote him on that, perfect lips, he's more and more convinced this whole charade is just an early birthday present. He'll have to thank Stillwell. Or better not, because as soon as he throws her a sidelong glance, he discovers, she's already looking at him. With a rather tense expression at that.

He feigns innocence, almost raises his hands in mock defeat, but decides against it at the last second. You're still watching him, torn between inspecting the costume, and shooting disgruntled looks in his direction.

Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, your hand sneaks to the front of the corset, fingers closing over the full cup, where your breast will soon reside. You give the mock leather two squeezes, and a high-pitched laugh wheezes out of your lips. Homelander's head nearly snaps with how fast he turns to look at Stillwell, confusion clear on his face.

She's looking at you cautiously. He knows that expression all too well, he's seen it multiple times during their partnership. She's calculating, with bated breath, just how much of a problem you'll inevitably become. How to turn it around in the company's favor, how to steer you in the right direction, should the need arise.

But then, you clap your hands, still giggling quietly, and turn to the designer, who's been watching your reaction with a growing distaste.

-That's one hell of a push-up bra - you comment with a raised eyebrow - My tits will fly straight out of this, if I even think about moving my arms.

Now, that's something Homelander would love to see, and you note his leering face with an uncomfortable shift in your posture.

-Your physique has to be god-like. There's no shame in a little padding - the designer answers simply, and your eyes glimmer with amusement.

-Oh, I bet - your eyes float for just a second in Homelander's direction, and he wonders if lasering you down right now would be too harsh of a reaction.

The image had to be kept up, however, and he deflects your blatant provocation with a bright smile. Or rather, it would've been a bright smile, if his cheek didn't twitch in a way, that portrayed exactly how forced his pleasantries are.

-There will be a press conference, seven PM sharp, where you'll be introduced to the public - Ashley informs you, her eyes glued to her tablet - Homelander will give a welcoming speech, explain that you're a temporary member of The Seven. Then, you'll need to say a couple of words. We'll send you the talking points ASAP.

-Right… - you mutter, not particularly thrilled by the idea of public speaking.

Stillwell looks over her shoulder towards Homelander, giving him an expectant, raised eyebrow. Slowly, he moves from his spot by the window, hand extended in a greeting, teeth flashing in a smile. Your eyes involuntarily shift towards his rather sharp canines, and for the first time, since you've signed the contract, you truly feel uneasy. His eyes are almost unnaturally blue, a perfect, American shade, that glimmers just a tad too dangerously. There's no need for super senses, he can feel your nerves in the very air you breathe.

-Welcome to The Seven - his voice is smoother than you've ever heard before - Fireball.

Wait a god-damned minute.

Confusion covers all previous feelings, and to Homelander's growing annoyance, you leave him with his hand extended, in favor of turning towards Stillwell.

-That's not my name - you point out, and Madelyn nods her head in a practiced expression of understanding.

-Due to some copyright intricacies, we can't let you use Smirnoff - she explains.

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth, looking back towards the costume. A moment's hesitation, you close your eyes as you breathe out, and once again Homelander feels as if he's able to peak under a carnival mask you carefully placed upon yourself. He lifts it just enough, sees the way muscles on your neck twitch. Your jaw sets in a way, that is slowly becoming intoxicating, and then you turn back to him.

-I'm honored - your voice is hollow, locked far away in the column of your throat, and you don't have enough strength to even attempt a smile.

That's alright, he has enough charm for the both of you, his imposing stature pushing towards you, as his arm sneaks around your shoulders.

Fuck, you're warm. He can feel the heat of your skin seeping into his costume. There's a vaguely familiar smell clinging to your form, mixing with the scent of cigarette smoke. Jasmine flowers, he concludes, and absent-mindedly remembers a rather large bush growing in your backyard. He wonders, if you'd let him fuck you, if he showed up with a bouquet at your door. Women seemed to like those, and although you didn't strike him as the most romantic person, he's positive he could charm his way into your pants.

-I'll show you to your room, sweetheart - perhaps he's laying it on a bit heavy with the nickname.

He can hear Stillwell's heart jump, and he immediately knows, he's going to have to sit through a stern talk later today. You, on the other hand, wrench your head to the side, disgruntled with this new form of familiarity. Your entire body goes tense, and you try to wriggle yourself further away from him. On instinct, his fingers dig into your shoulder, a mockery of a friendly expression, and with just a small fragment of his true strength, he pushes you forward, out of Stillwell's office.

He can do whatever he wants, and Madelyn is getting awfully pushy with guarding you from him. You're just a temporary toy to satisfy the higher-ups. A six months worth of an experiment, that he's forced to be a part of. After your contract is up, Vaught won't care whether you live or die, and you bet your rather ample ass, he's going to exploit that to the fullest. Not only is it borderline insulting, to deny him life's simple pleasures, it's pathetic.

-Nervous about the press? - he asks in a light tone, his jaw clicking softly, when your slide out of his grasp as soon as the doors close.

The casualness of this question throws you in a bit of a loop, but with a couple of rapid blinks, you're back to normal, letting him lead you towards the elevator.

-Public speaking isn't my best asset - you mumble.

Homelander presses the call button of the elevator, then leans against the wall, watching you with a strange twinkle in his eye.

-Sounds like someone's not a people person - he notes, wiggling his finger at you in a manner that is confusingly playful.

-I am a people person - you defend yourself, albeit a bit awkwardly - Just… Not when there's a lot of people.

He laughs at that, a practiced, almost theatrical bark that's as fake as his hairdo. All you have the strength to do, is flash him half of a smile. Thankfully the elevator pings before any more small-talk is required, and you slip into the confined space, standing in the corner. His eyes roam freely all over your body, a shameless act that makes your guts twist, makes the already small space of the elevator even more stuffy. And then, he enters after you, pressing a button to the right floor, and taking a spot much too close to you, than what's necessary.

You suppose it's one of the things you'll have to get used to. This constant invasion of your personal space. Perhaps, if it were someone else, someone that wasn't as empty as you, those actions would've been more intimidating than annoying. Alas, as you watch his chest rise and fall in steady rythm, out of the corner of your eye, his actions remind you of a petulant, spoiled child, rather than America's Greatest Hero. "I can't play with this toy? And what if I do this?" For just a second you entertain the idea of gentle parenting Homelander, and the thought makes the corner of your mouth twitch.

-Something the matter? - he asks, tension sneaking into his friendly tone.

-Just happy to be here, sir - you answer, and he knows it's a blatant lie, another one of your snarky provocations.

Doesn't matter for now, there will be a time to teach you some manners.

The elevator arrives at the right floor, and you bolt out of your place as soon as the doors slip open. Homelander follows closely behind, before closing the distance in a couple of long steps. Then, he's in front of you, and you nearly collide with his form, as he suddenly comes to a stop, in front of a pair of large doors. "Fireball" is etched into a small plack, and you throw the offending piece of metal a withering glance.

-That's your stop, sweetheart - he comments, and once again, you grimace at the nickname - Take a look inside, I'm sure it will blow your socks right off.

Why is he talking to you like you're a fucking child all of a sudden, you'll never understand. The door clicks softly, as you open it, revealing your living space for the next six months. The sight chokes a laugh out of you, because truly, the ammount of "punk" memorabilia is staggering.

-Does cocaine addiction come with the package, or…?

He doesn't even react to your joke, and you don't blame him. For all his creepiness and fake interest, he doesn't strike you as the funniest person on earth. There are guitars hanging over a rather large bed, there's a pristine stop sign next to them, which you suppose is meant to look rebellious. The usage of leopard print is tacky at best, and you truly start to wonder if they even consulted someone out of the corporation to design the space. Most likely no, wouldn't want to waste resources on such a small project.

-Fireball - Homelander's voice is barely above a whisper, but it makes your heart jump all the same.

He's standing so closely behind you, you can feel the warmth of his breath at the back of your neck, but for some unnknown reason, you can't force yourself to move. Instead, you feel him take a deep breath trough his nose, his chest brushing against your back. Your eyes stay glued to a drum set, pushed against a gigantic window. Light reflects off of the cymbals, in your mind you're already playing it, far away from this nightmare of a superhero.

-I'll see you at the press conference - Homelander's hand clasps itself over your shoulder, squeezing a couple of times, as if testing the softness of your body - Don't even think about being late, young lady.

You don't know when he dissapears, as you stand there, frozen. One foot over the threshold of your room, breathing shallow and borderline panicked. It could've been seconds, could've been hours, until your head finally snaps to the side. He's not there anymore, you're alone in the corridor, and as you slam the door closed behind you, something you've only suspected before becomes abundantly clear.

There is something deeply wrong with Homelander.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Chris are secretly in love, but Chris is the one that acts shy around her; OR 4 times Chris loved Y/N from afar and 1 time he didn't.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N and Nick had been inseparable since they were children, having grown up together in Boston, their bond of friendship was the strongest among all others. Nick was the type of boy who exuded energy and extroversion, while Y/N was more thoughtful and quiet, and the two of them fit together perfectly.

So, when the triplets decided to move to Los Angeles to better advance their career on YouTube, the girl went with them. Her high school years were over, and, as luck would have it, she had received her acceptance letter to the LA college she wanted to attend.

Obviously, her closeness with Nick throughout her life brought her close to Matt and Chris equally, as the three of them came as a complete package to any relationship, regardless of which trype it was.

The only difference was that with Chris, things were different. A strange and unfamiliar feeling grew more and more inside Y/N's heart whenever he was around, making her blush and stumble over her own words. It didn't take her long to realize that she was madly in love with the youngest triplet, but the fear of rejection prevented her from confessing her feelings.

What Y/N didn't know was that Chris also had deep feelings for her. However, he was also paralyzed by the fear of ruining his friendship with Y/N, or worse, destabilizing the girl's friendship with his brother if his feelings weren't reciprocated. So the two were content to flirt shyly and exchanging furtive glances and meaningful smiles that spoke volumes about their feelings.

But there was something more, something that everyone but Y/N seemed to notice. When she was around, Chris transformed completely. His posture softened, his smile became more genuine, and his eyes shone with a special tenderness reserved just for her. He became more embarrassed and cautious, as if he was afraid of messing up in front of the person he secretly loved.

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1. Shyness

The sun was beginning to peek shyly through the window curtains when Y/N woke up. She snuggled under the sheets for a moment, enjoying the feeling of comfort. With a soft yawn, the girl got up from the bed and stretched momentarily before putting on the Fresh Love hoodie that was on her gaming chair, throwing her hair up in a quick ponytail.

Y/N walked down the stairs of the floor she shared with Nick towards the kitchen, following the tempting aroma of fresh coffee and warm toast.

Inside the kitchen, Matt was talking about a movie he watched the night before, Saltburn, while Chris laughed loudly at the faces of disgust and strangeness Nick displayed at certain scenes.

"Wait, you reminded me of a TikTok I saw yesterday!" Exclaimed Chris, his eyes shining with excitement. "It was from a guy who apparently wrote a song about a girl who looks innocent but ha-"

Before he could continue, Y/N entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, boys!"

Chris's face instantly turned a bright shade of red, and he swallowed hard, abruptly stopping talking. He looked down at his plate with a sudden intensity, as if he were trying to concentrate on each bite of his food.

"Good morning, Y/N." Nick smiled, breaking the brief moment of awkward silence. Matt just nodded, chewing on the piece of toast he had in his mouth.

Y/N approached the counter behind the table, noticing the sudden discomfort in the air but choosing not to comment on it.

"What was the TikTok about, Chris?" She asked softly with her back turned to them, standing on tiptoes and opening one of the cabinets above the stove, retrieving her favorite mug.

"I... Um." He fake coughed, clearing his throat. "I think I... forgot." The last word came out in a subtle whisper.

Y/N smiled, feeling the skin of her face burn at the thought of how shy the boy became in her presence, shaking her head quickly to shake off the thoughts when Nick started talking again, bringing up another topic.

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2. Admiring from afar

The Space Camp Wellness studio was filled with vibrant energy as Nick, Chris, Matt, and Y/N prepared for yet another promotional photo shoot. Nick, as the founder of the lip balm brand, was busy adjusting the final details, while Y/N was preparing to be one of the models in that series of pictures that would be used to promote the new line.

Sitting on the other side of the room, Chris, Matt, and Nick exchanged hushed murmurs among themselves, discussing the details of what the next steps for Nick's brand would be. However, to Chris, the sounds seemed distant, completely muffled to his ears.

His eyes remained fixed on the girl, watching every movement she made as she changed her positions. He couldn't shake the feeling that the whole world seemed brighter when she was around, his heart beating wildly against his chest.

"Chris, you're drooling again." Matt teased, giving the boy a playful poke in the shoulder.

Chris blinked, brought back to reality by his words. He blushed slightly, embarrassed at being caught.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not drooling." He barked back, trying to hide his flushed state.

"Oh, come on, Chris. Everyone knows you're head over heels in love with Y/N." Nick laughed loudly, exchanging knowing glances with Matt.

Chris squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a suitable response to his brothers' teasing. He knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also didn't want to make the situation more awkward than it already was.

"You two are ridiculous." He grumbled, looking at Y/N again.

His eyes widened when he saw her already watching them, her gaze carrying a curiosity as to why they were laughing so loud - not that it was something strange coming from the brothers.

The brunette quickly turned his neck to the side, focusing his eyes on a random place while scratching his stubble, gulping loudly.

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3. Acts of service

The frigid air of Boston circulated Y/N as she walked alongside the triplets, enveloped by the welcoming atmosphere of their hometown. The night was particularly cold, with a biting breeze that made everyone shrink into themselves for warmth.

"Oh my God, it's so cold!" Y/N commented, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them a little.

Chris, who was next to her on the outside of the sidewalk, immediately noticed her cheeks flushed by the wind. He frowned, feeling a tightening of concern in his chest when he saw her body shaking slightly, being covered only by a long-sleeved blouse and thin leggings.

"Here." The boy said, taking off his hockey jersey and offering it to her. "You can use this to protect yourself from the cold."

Y/N widened her eyes in surprise, stopping her steps abruptly.

"But what about you, Chris? You're going to be cold-" Chris shook his head, cutting her off.

"Don't worry about me. I can handle the cold better than you can. Besides, you need to stay warm or you will cath the flu."

Finally convinced, but still reluctant, Y/N accepted the jersey, feeling the comforting warmth that emanated from the fabric as she took it in her hands. She smiled wide at Chris, slipping it over her shoulders, his Dior parfume automatically filling her nostrils, warming her heart.

Chris watched in silence as Y/N wrapped herself in his jersey, name and number clearly visible on her back, lightly covered by the strands of her loose hair. An intense blush took over his cheeks, a feeling of heat different from the cold taking over his body.

He felt his heart speed up to a thousand miles per hour, pressing his lips into a thin line to stop the involuntary smile.

"It looks good on you. Better than on me."

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4. Distraction

The kitchen of the triplets' house was full of energy as the brothers prepared to record another Wednesday video for their YouTube channel. Nick adjusted the camera and arranged the equipment while Chris and Matt arranged themselves in the two chairs behind the wooden table, facing the tripod.

Chris, especially, was beaming with enthusiasm, his words flowing with energy as he addressed the camera after Nick positioned himself behind the two, giving the go-ahead to begin recording.

"What's up, guys? Welcome back to our YouTube channel! Today, we have a-"

He was in the middle of introducing the theme when Y/N passed through the divide between the living room and kitchen, her hands holding her phone and her eyes fixed on the screen, heading towards the stairs that led to her shared floor with Nick.

Chris's gaze instinctively shifted towards her, his heart racing almost automatically as his pupils seemed to take the shape of a little heart, his eyes following her every step and his mouth opening slightly.

His brothers, noticing Chris's sudden distraction, began laughing, teasing him as he struggled to regain focus.

"Wow, Chris, I think someone's a little distracted." Matt, who was sitting next to him, joked, receiving a hard slap on the shoulder in response.

Chris blushed a red hue, embarrassed at being caught. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his state as he tried to remember what he was about to say.

"Hm..." He cleared his throat, still a little disconcerted. "Where did I stop?"

Nick laughed louder, stumbling back and slamming his back against the stove, cursing loudly as he tried to steady his balance.

"You were talking about the challenge we're going to do today, but I think you were more interested in keeping up with Y/N ​​than recording the video." Matt scoffed, smirking to the lens.

Chris shook his head, adjusting the cap over his hair in an act of nervousness, his mind still a little clouded by the sight of Y/N.

Needless to say, he got almost every picture of the challenge wrong, his mind replaying the image of the girl he loved over and over for the rest of the day.

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5. When he finally makes a move

The night silently enveloped the house, as Chris found himself lost in his own thoughts, his body lying flat on his bed and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He knew it was time to finally confront his feelings for Y/N and express the love he had been secretly holding onto for so long. However, he was feeling completely lost on how to do it.

With his heart beating wildly in his chest, the boy decided to seek advice from Matt. His brother always knew what to say. Chris walked quickly up the stairs, going to Matt's bedroom door, knocking gently with his closed fist against the wood before turning the handle, opening it.

"Matt?" He asked, his voice slightly shaking with anxiety as his eyes darted around the room, quickly finding the boy in his gaming chair, playing something on his computer. "Can I talk to you?"

Matt looked up, frowning in concern when he noticed the boy's distressed eyes.

"Of course, did something happen?"

Chris entered the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge in front of his computer desk.

"Nothing happened, I just... need some advice." Chris began, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment at being so vulnerable. "I've finally accepted that I love Y/N, but I don't know how to tell her... I'm scared of ruining everything, Matt."

Matt smiled slightly, taking the headphones off his head and placing it on the keyboard before moving the chair so that he was facing Chris.

"Why don't you write her a letter?" Matt shrugged, crossing his arms and watching his reactions.

"A letter? Isn't that too old-fashioned?" The youngest frowned, pushing his bangs back with his right hand, expanding his vision.

"With every girl you've ever been with, you've always been direct, unrestricted, and unromantic. But with Y/N ​​it's different, right?"

"She's not just another one, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes, feeling disgusted as he remembered all the times that he tried to erase his feelings for Y/N.

"Exactly, so treat her like she isn't, be romantic and different, surprise her."

It took days for Chris to finally have the courage to open his heart in a letter. He wasn't used to revealing his feelings often, so writing them down on paper was harder than it seemed. But the day finally arrived, and surprisingly, it didn't take more than an hour for Chris to finish his words.

The brunette spent the rest of that day wandering around his room while carrying the letter hidden in the front pocket of his hoodie, looking for the ideal moment to give it to Y/N.

His courage to hand it to her face to face was almost non-existent, and that's why he used the only moment when the girl moved from her room to Nick's. With shaking hands, he placed the letter on Y/N's bed, leaving it in a place where she would certainly find it.

One last look at it, and Chris turned abruptly, running back to his own room with his face flushed with shyness and anxiety.

Meanwhile, Y/N returned to her room, unaware of the surprise that awaited her. Her heart beat with strange anticipation as she approached, immediately noticing the letter carefully left there.

Hesitantly, Y/N took it, feeling the weight of the paper in her hands. She took a deep breath before opening it, her eyes widening comically as she recognized the handwriting, her eyes running quickly through the words with a mix of surprise and excitement.

As she read Chris's passionate declaration, Y/N's heart seemed to expand in her chest, overflowing with all the best feelings.

To my Y/N,

I am completely sure that I have loved you since the moment I understood the meaning of the word love. I remember the day I noticed that I felt something different about you; we were 14 years old and you showed up at our house to spend the day with Nick, and as soon as you saw me, you smiled the most beautiful and wide smile I've ever seen, taking away all my breath.

Whenever I go to sleep I think about you and, maybe, an us, wondering if you feel the same. And whenever I wake up, I can only imagine what it would be like to have you on the other side of the bed, forever in my arms.

What would it be like to have you? This probably sounds cliché and ridiculous, but I created a whole imagination of what it would be like, and I know it would be a dream come true.

And I tried so hard to resist it, out of pure fear and cowardice of losing you and your company, but resisting you became my most difficult task.

Everything about you makes me feel more alive and lighter. The sound of your voice seems to silence all the noise in my head, and your smile erases all the bad smoke in the world around me. And suddenly there's only you.

If you gave me the chance, I would make you feel everything and much more than you already made me feel.

Say the word and I'll be your yours.

Always,

Chris.

Y/N remained static for long minutes, letting the magnitude of what she had just read sink into her heart and mind. She felt her fingertips numb and her heart racing so much that she was almost sure it would jump out of her chest and run to wherever Chris was.

And then, with renewed determination, the girl got up from her bed, running downstairs towards Chris's room, goosebumps rising through her body in anticipation.

Upon arriving at the door of the room she dreamed of being able to live in one day, Y/N raised her closed fist, knocking it against the wood with nervousness, anxiously waiting for an answer.

When Chris opened it, their eyes met in a moment of pure connection, and Y/N knew it was the right thing to do.

"Chris." She began, her voice soft but shaky. "I love you too."

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[fvllingflower]

「At Your Service」

pairing: butler!joshua princess!reader

genre: pure smut

warning: making out, boob/nipple play, light spanking (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), praising (f!receiving), aftercare

song recommendation: love of your life by raye

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Joshua Hong is your personal butler. Everyone in your royal family has a designated butler and yours so happened to be wildly attractive. The way his hair was styled and the way he wore that suit did things to you that you wouldn't admit. Of course the fact being close in age didn't help your delusions one bit...

You walked downstairs in your plaid pencil skirt and matching jacket. Joshua came up to you and handed you your coffee.

"Good morning princess, here is your coffee" You smiled and took the drink from him.

"Ah thank you Joshua" You sipped the drink. Joshua followed you like a lost puppy.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Joshua sweetly asked.

"Not that I can think of at the moment but thank you" You kept your sweet smile.

Joshua was down bad for you, maybe that's the only reason he doesn't mind doing random tasks because he wants to please you. He wants to be the reason for your sweet smile and he never wants to give you a reason to speak badly about him. No one could blame Joshua either, you're a princess, a gorgeous, smart, and respectful woman. It was hard to describe you with negative adjectives.

One day Joshua overheard you talking to your mother about something.

"Mother, if he is meant to do anything to satisfy me does that even mean sexual things as well?" You asked and your mother gently smacked your arm.

"Y/N do not ask such disgusting things. He's not a sex object, he's your butler" She spoke in that fancy tone. You just nodded.

"Sorry, I was just curious" You mumbled.

Months passed since he overheard that and he constantly thought about it. It was about 8pm and you called him into your bedroom. Joshua knocked on the door and came in. He saw you wearing your silk nightgown and loved how it looked on you.

"Ah princess, you called me?" Joshua suddenly spoke. You turned your head and smiled.

"Oh, yes, I would like your opinion on which dress should I wear for the party tomorrow night?" Joshua followed you into the walk-in closet. You showed him your two options. The first dress was a wine red, satin dress that flowed at your feet and it had a low neckline and some thin straps, it also had a slit that runs to your mid-thigh and was well-fitted. The second dress was a black, satin, mermaid dress, it had a corset top with thin straps with it, and it was well-fitted.

"So what do you think?" You kept your sweet smile on your face while looking at him. Joshua was struggling, both looked gorgeous and he knew they'd look fantastic on you.

"Well...I don't know, princess, they're both gorgeous" He admitted. You hummed softly and hung the dresses back up. You went to grab your phone. You went back to the closet.

"Here, I tried them on and took photos...maybe this can help?" You handed him your phone and he admired the photos. You look gorgeous in both of those dresses but he was gravitating towards the first one...

"I like the red dress...you look gorgeous in both but I think the red dress will catch people's eyes" Joshua smiled at you and you nodded. You kept the red dress out for tomorrow and hung the black dress back with the other dresses.

"Thank you" You smiled softly.

"You're welcome, princess...is that all you need?" Joshua kept his smile and his gaze on your pretty face.

"Well— Um" You were hesitating about doing it, you felt scared, and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Yes, there is" You bit the bullet and walked over to him and closed the gap between your bodies and you kissed him softly. Joshua's eyes widened for a moment before relaxing into the kiss. His hands held your waist as your hand cupped his cheek. The kiss was slow and intimate but you broke the kiss. Your eyes moved back and forth trying to read his expression.

"Was that...was that okay for me to do?" You mumbled and Joshua smiled.

"Yeah, that was okay— more than okay actually...I really liked that" You smiled happily and nodded.

"Okay, good...I was scared to make you uncomfortable..." You admitted and he shook his head.

"Kissing you is a privilege" Joshua's words made you giggle. You felt comfortable in his arms right now, it oddly felt right. Joshua just admired your face and your pretty smile.

"You're so gorgeous, princess" Joshua muttered and you softly blushed. You knew you were beautiful, you heard it everyday from strangers but to hear it from him felt different, it almost felt surreal.

"Are you just saying that cause you work for me?" You asked in a joking tone with underlying seriousness to your question.

"No, I'm not just saying that, I really mean it...you aren't even wearing makeup and still look like a model" Your smile widened at his words.

"...thank you" You spoke shyly.

"...I should get going princess and let you sleep" He was about to let you go but you stopped him.

"Wait....can I kiss you again before you go?" You mumbled and Joshua smiled as he nodded. He leaned down and kissed you softly. You hugged his neck as you kissed him slowly and put all your emotions into it. This kiss convinced him to hold you tighter in his arms and continue to kiss you endlessly. The kiss turned into a slow makeout session that you both enjoyed a little too much. Joshua came to his senses and broke the kisses.

"I... I should go..." You didn't let him leave though, you pulled him back into a kiss.

"Princess..." Joshua mumbled.

"Please... I— I want you" You whispered against his lips. His eyes widened slightly. You, a princess, wanted him, a butler? Is this a dream?

"You....want me?" Joshua repeated your words to confirm what he heard.

"Yes...please, Joshua..." You mumbled. He couldn't say no to you, not because of the power imbalance but because of how gorgeous you looked and how this opportunity may never come again.

"Okay...I'll stay" Joshua whispered and you two went back to slowly making out. He led you two over to the red velvet lounge chair in the closet. Joshua pulled you into his lap as you continued kissing. He kept his arms around your waist, keeping you secure. You've never craved a man as much as you've craved Joshua and shit your cravings were being fulfilled right now. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt as you continued kissing him. He felt more passion arise in his body as you began to unbutton his pajama top. You pulled his shirt off and revealed his toned upper half. The kisses continued to be slow and sensual, he wanted to take his time with you and savor it all. Joshua's hands ran across your body and you ran your hands down his chest.

"Touch me— want your hands all over me" You whispered desperately against his lips before going back to kissing him. His hands cupped your ass as the making out continued. You moved to kiss his neck and collarbone.

"I'm free to touch you anywhere?" Joshua asked softly.

"Yes...please do..." You mumbled against his neck and nipped at his skin. He gently smacked your ass before roaming your body again. His hands ran up your body and cupped your breasts. Joshua began to knead and squeeze them, loving the soft noises coming from you. You pulled the straps of your nightgown down and let your tits free. His eyes darkened as he looked at your body. His hands returning to your chest. He caressed and kneaded your soft mounds, his fingers playing with your peaks.

"They're so perfect..." Joshua continued to touch you, his hands growing more demanding. He pinched and rolled your peaks between his fingers, his touch bordering on rough. You gasped loudly as he teased your nipples.

"You're so beautiful" Joshua whispered against your lips before kissing you passionately. His hand snaked down your body and began rubbing your clothed clit, causing you gasp and moan into his mouth. Joshua flipped you to lay back on the lounge chair as he stripped you completely naked.

"Shit...look at you...so gorgeous" He praised you and spread your legs wide and rubbed your folds.

"You're so wet, princess..." Joshua whispered before plunging two fingers into you. You arched your back and moaned at the stretch. He began pumping his fingers inside you while sucking and teasing your tits. Everything felt so overwhelmingly good especially when he'd scissored his fingers inside you. You didn't hold back your moans as he continued to pump his fingers and added a third thick finger into your hole. The stretch was painfully delicious along with the fast pace. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you continued to proudly moan his name.

"Ah—Joshua" Your eyes squeezed shut and mouth agaped from the pleasure. His name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth especially as he was making you feel so good. His thumb roughly rubbed circles against your clit as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. You clenched around his fingers and he knew you were close.

"That's it, love...don't hold back" Joshua pumped his fingers faster and his teeth tugged on your nipple. All the pleasure causing you to cum hard. Your back arched and your walls squeezed his fingers as you came. Joshua's fingers slowed down and helped ride you through your high. He was whispering sweet praises while his head rested against your chest.

"You did so well....you're so beautiful...." Joshua pulled his fingers out of you and he sucked his fingers clean as he groaned at your sweet taste.

"You taste so good, princess" Joshua muttered before giving you a gentle kiss. He took in the sight of your naked body laying on the chair with your legs spread open as your cum spills out of your pretty pussy. Your nipples painfully hard and sensitive along with your eyes closed and mouth opened as you catch your breath.

"So fucking beautiful..." Joshua whispered to himself. He pulled his pants and boxers off to reveal his hard, thick, veiny, and red erection. You couldn't help but stare which boosted his ego.

"Don't worry, beautiful, it'll be in you soon" He kisses you passionately. The kiss was slow and hungry. His hand ran down your naked body and his thumb went back to rubbing gentle circles on your bundle of nerves.

"Fuck—I need you Joshua" Your voice was breathy and needy as he continued rubbing your clit.

"Anything for you princess" Joshua kissed you once more. You turned over and put your ass in the air and face against the padded lounge chair. Joshua got more turned on seeing you in that position. His hands rub your bare ass.

"Mm you look so sexy like this" Joshua muttered. You whimpered softly as he squeezed your ass cheeks.

"Joshua please—need you so bad" You begged and your words went straight to his dick.

"Fuck—okay, love" He lined himself up and held your hips. Joshua slowly stretched you out. Joshua groaned at the feeling of your tight walls hugging him.

"Uuuh—fuck" You moaned slowly as his dick inched more and more inside you. Joshua stayed still for a moment as you adjusted to him.

"You ready princess?" He asked and you nodded. Joshua began a slow pace, moving in and out. Your moans were soft as he continued rocking his hips.

"Uh—faster, baby" You moaned and Joshua obliged and began thrusting into you at a fast pace. He enjoyed watching your ass jiggle against his pelvic bone. Joshua's grip on your hips was almost bruising with how fast and rough he was pounding you. His hands moved to grope your ass and spank you.

"Uuuh Joshua" You moaned loudly and arched your back even more. This encouraged him to be rougher. Joshua began to pound you mercilessly and loved how loud you became.

"Joshua—Ahh—Fuck!" You moaned shamelessly loud. The sound of skin against skin filled the closet along with your moans and his groans.

"Uuuh fuck—so good" Joshua groans as he pounds you into a new dimension. Your hands gripped the top of the lounge chair as you moaned like a porno. You suddenly felt the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten. Joshua felt you clamp around his cock and he knew what that meant. He slapped your ass a little rougher and increased his speed.

"Ahh—Joshua—Fuck, fuck!" You moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, legs trembled and pussy convulsed as you came intensely.

"Fuck yes" Joshua groaned loudly and his thrusts became sloppier as he was getting close. You continued to moan like it was second nature, and he kept his harsh grip on your hips. A few more rough thrusts until he thrusts into you and holds it as he paints your walls with his cum.

"Uuuuh fuck" Joshua moans as he filled you to the brim. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds before pulling his softened cock out of you. He laid beside you, spooning you on the lounge chair as you both tried to catch your breath.

"You're so perfect...you did so good...so beautiful" Joshua whispered praises against your shoulder. He gently rubs your belly and side soothe you.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice was gentle and filled with worry.

"No—I'm okay" You managed to mumble.

"Okay..good, I never want to hurt you" Joshua whispered and kissed your shoulder. After a few minutes, Joshua got up from the chair and was walking away.

"Joshie..where are you going?" You spoke softly and Joshua just shined his smile.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to start a bath for you" You nodded and he left the closet. A couple of minutes later and he picked you up and carried you into your bathroom. He gently placed you in the tub but he didn't get in.

"How's the water? Too cold too hot?" Joshua sweetly asked.

"Too cold" You muttered and Joshua nodded.

"Okay, I'll fix it" He was about to mess with the handles when you reached forward and grabbed his hand.

"It'll be warmer if you just joined me" Joshua smiled wide and got in the tub. He sat behind you, his thighs on either side of your figure and your back against his chest. He hugged your waist and sighed.

"Is this better now?" Joshua mumbled and you hummed softly.

"Much better" Joshua just chuckled at your behavior. He helped clean you up and was being very gentle with you, like you were made out of glass.

"Can't have the princess be smelly, right" Joshua teased and kissed your shoulder.

After the bath, Joshua dried you off, get you dressed into a clean nightgown and panties and tucked you bed. He sat on the edge of the bed just admiring you. He kissed your forehead and sighed.

"Goodnight, princess" Joshua whispered against your forehead and got up from your bed and was walking towards the door.

"Joshie" He heard your faint voice.

"Mm what is it princess?" He froze and turned to look at you.

"Stay with me, please..." You gently begged.

"Love..." Joshua knew if he got caught your parents would fire him but at the same time, he wanted to hold you as he slept.

"Please Shua?" Joshua couldn't say no especially with those cute nicknames you were calling him.

"Okay, okay" He smiled and got in the bed. You were quick to cuddle up with him. Your head on his chest, leg draped over him, and your arm around his waist. A few moments of peaceful silence fell between you two until you decided to blurt out your thoughts.

"Would it be wrong to date my butler?" You mumbled and Joshua smiled. He opened his eyes and looked down at you. Joshua rubbed your back and side soothingly.

"Mm...I don't think so...your parents probably wouldn't like it but that's your decision not theirs" He spoke gently and you hummed. You looked up at him with vulnerability in your eyes.

"Would you—would you be my boyfriend?" You felt nervous about his answer. Joshua smiled, and kissed your forehead.

"Yes, I would very much like that" Your face lit up and you kissed him softly.

[webslingingslasher]

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong. 

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 

So why did everyone hate you so much? 

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 

He was the one that picked fights. 

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 

And the third floor bathroom. 

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 

It ruined everything about high school so far. 

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 

“Hey, still coming later?” 

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 

“Wanna meet at the library?” 

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 

You scoff, “absolutely not.” 

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 

You wanted a boyfriend. 

You wanted a friend. 

You wanted love. 

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 

But you couldn’t have him. 

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 

“Yours?” 

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 

Too bad you’ll never know. 

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 

He’s god damn irresistible. 

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 

It must be his superpower. 

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things. 

A lot, and very kind. 

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 

“Oh, good! He shared.” 

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 

“Peter was right about you.” 

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 

“Peter was right about what?” 

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 

“Cookies.” 

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 

“Bakery?” 

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 

“S’mores? Really?” 

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 

“Nah, I love s’mores.” 

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 

“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 

This was bad. This was very bad. 

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 

“Wanna come over tonight?” 

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 

“Sure. Same time?” 

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 

“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-” 

“Keep it in his room.” 

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 

“Thanks, May. See you later.” 

A wink, “See you later, honey.” 

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 

“I’m a virgin!” 

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 

“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 

“So I could talk to you.” 

It’s a start, “why?” 

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 

“You okay?” 

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 

“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 

Rude. Fair, but rude. 

“So, you like me?” 

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 

“What was that?” 

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 

“Have you kissed anyone before?” 

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 

You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 

“Wanna bet?” 

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 

Plus, he was really cute. 

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 

“Do-” 

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 

He wanted to do it again. 

That’s a good thing. 

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 

And for that reason, 

“Sold.” 

[theflowerrooms]

to request • Eddie’s masterlist • main masterlist

Lingering Discomfort

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary; usually you and your boyfriend Eddie are all over eachother, but after an awful experience with a stranger, you can’t handle anyone’s hands on you

wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: descriptions of sexual assault and lingering affects of it, light angst, Eddie’s so sweet and lovely

another request from the lovely @tracymbcm, thank you so much for requesting <3

It was yesterday, when you were at the bookstore, standing in between the fantasy and horror isles at the bookstore when someone tapped on your back, between your shoulder blades. It was a man, significantly older than you but not elderly by any means, he was incredibly average looking man, apart from the scary grin he wore on his face, and his beady eyes that stared at your chest rather than your face.

  "Don't see many pretty young girls listening to Metallica." He smirked at the band tee you wore and your heart raced with anxiety. You wondered if he could tell the shirt was too big for you, if he could tell it was a man's shirt- Eddie's. "What's your favourite song by them honey?" He asked and the petname made you feel sick.

"Um-" "Um!" He cut you off mocking you and you pouted, backing up, wiping your sweaty palms on the sides of your skirt.

  "I don't- I don't listen to them. My boyfriend, he loves 'em." You didn't talk more than that and you almost flinched at the very unsubtle way the corner of his lip rose in irritation.

  "That right? How old is he?" He asked, a step closer to you as you took one back. Your eyes watered as you realized any further back and you'd just be trapped against the bookcase.

  "He's twenty." You hoped he didn't see your lip tremble, you hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating so fast.

  "Twenty? See young guys- little boys like that don't know how to treat their girls." That's all that was said before the situation escalated and ended with you running out of the store crying. He didn't do anything more than grab your ass, but it was revolting.

  You took deep breaths before you pulled out of the parking lot. Your first instinct was to drive to Eddie's house, cry into his chest and complain about the creep in the bookstore. You could see him in your head, hugging you, rocking you as he kissed the crown of your head. You didn't understand why the thought of that made you uncomfortable, you just didn't want to be touched again. What you needed was a shower, and then bed.

✽-

  The next morning, Eddie picked you up as usual, he did every morning. Usually you loved it, getting to spend time with him before you started your day, and it got him to school on time, not wanting to make you late. Today you'd rather walk, every car ride Eddie would stroke your thigh, kiss you at every stop sign, squeeze in a quick make out session before you left the car.

  You avoided all that. Grabbing his freehand and holding it so it wouldn't venture to your legs, fake yawning and leaning your head against the window with your eyes closed, too tired to kiss. You left his van before he got the chance to try and make out with you.

  He did call you pretty, and cute in the span of three minutes, which brought a smile to your face, especially since you didn't feel pretty or cute, wearing a loose fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants instead of the skirt and tighter top you normally would've worn, too uncomfortable to wear anything very revealing.

  He walked with you into the school, slightly behind you like he usually did and you distanced yourself just slightly, so his hand wouldn't find the small of your back.

  You chewed your lip as you turned around to face him. "'M gonna go talk to Robin before class." You smile softly, albeit anxiously at him, but he didn't read into it too much thankfully.

  "Alright baby, tell her I said hey." He grinned and you nodded, guilty you hadn't been giving him the same attention and intimacy you normally would. He leaned forward to kiss you and you turned your head, he was fine with just kissing your cheek. "You okay baby?" He asked, glassy brown eyes searching your own. You told him you were, and you both knew you were lying, but he didn't press it.

  You swallowed thickly as you turned from him, wiping the invisible kiss off of your face when you knew he couldn't see you, walking on shaky legs until you found Robin.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked, and you sighed, shrugging even though you knew. Her eyes burned into yours until you leaned against the lockers with a pout. Finally you told her what happened.

  She scoffed. "Men. So many of them are fucking creeps, I thank the gods every day for the fact that I swing the other way." She rolled her eyes with a grimace on her face that matched the one that was starting to grow on your own. "Was Eddie with you?" She asked and you shook your head. "That's- well maybe that's a good thing. He would've totally lost his shit." She laughed.

  That last sentence stuck with you. Why would Eddie be mad? It wasn't your fault. But then maybe it was, you could've moved away sooner, told him to stop, you could have just not interacted with him in the first place and moved on. And now Eddie would be mad at you.

✽-

  It stuck in your head until lunch. And when it was lunch, you felt anxious again. You felt so guilty, especially seeing Eddie smile so big the second he saw you. When you reached the hellfire table, you pulled your usual seat a few inches away from him, so you wouldn't be pressed flush against him like usual.

  You sat and he wrapped his arm around you like usual, so you leaned forward letting his arm rest on the back of your chair, that was fine.

  Things were okay for the next ten minutes. You got less anxious, joining in on the conversation, things seemed normal again, despite the lack of Eddie's tongue down your throat which was common for every other lunch period.

  Suddenly that normalcy ended. "You're too far baby." Eddie tsked, easily picking you up and putting you in his lap, arm over your lap and gripping the underside of your thigh, the same place that old man's hand was less than a day ago.

  You leaped up without thinking, heart racing, all the eyes of hellfire on you. "Stop! Stop- just don't- don't want you touching me." Your voice shook, and tears welled in your eyes when Eddie's smile fell completely. You mistook the concern on his face for anger and you bolted, you didn't go far, only to the library, you'd favourite place in Hawkin's High, save for Eddie's arms.

  You sat in the back on a soft chair, you weren't there long before Eddie found you. He kneeled in front of you, making himself look small as he peered up at your teary eyes. He placed his hand on the arm of the chair, not on your skin.

  "I talked to Robin baby, do y'wanna talk about what's bothering you?" His eyes didn't look angry like you thought they would, only sweet and inviting. His lips turned to match the pout on your face, he always did it and it made you giggle, you felt your lips twitch with the beginning of a smile. It was hard to stay upset around Eddie.

  "Are you mad?" You asked and his eyes immediately widened, curls swaying with his head as he shook it.

  "Of course not sweet girl, I could never be mad at you baby. Especially not for something that wasn't your fault." He assured you. Immediately the guilt in your chest floated away. "Do you wanna talk to me about it baby?" He tilted his head and you nodded.

  "Yesterday, at the bookstore there was this older guy." Your lip trembled. "He was askin' about my shirt 'n he called me pretty. Then he started asking about you when I told him I have a boyfriend. He said twenty year olds dunno how to please girls, and he- and he touched me." You brought your knees to your chest as the tears on your waterline started to drip over your cheeks.

  Eddie's jaw tensed. "Where did he touch you?" It was tearing him apart to not be able to hold you right now, wipe away your tears. But he understood there was a new boundary as a result of what happened, and he'd respect that, keep his hands to himself until he knew it was okay to touch you again.

  "He rubbed my leg- 'n he grabbed my butt." You whispered, he didn't look angry, upset yes, worried, absolutely, but he wasn't mad. "I told Robin about it 'n she said if you were there you would've lost your shit." You kept your voice down and he shook his head quickly again.

  "No- no baby, well, yes. But I wouldn't have been mad at you at all, just at that guy. It's not okay for him to go around touching girls, 'specially my girl. But that's not your fault baby, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise you did good, and I'm not mad at you at all." He promised and you sniffled.

  There was a beat of silence before you threw yourself from the chair onto your knees, burying your face in his chest. His arms immediately squeezed you close to him, brushing your tears away gently.

  "How about we skip the rest of our classes today, head to that bookstore, 'n I'll buy you whatever book you didn't get to buy yesterday. And if that guy's there, you point him out and he and I can have a little talk, I'll make sure he doesn't touch you, or anyone else like that again, hm?" His voice was soft, calm as he pet your hair and you nodded.

"I love you." "I love you"

  You didn't see that guy again when you went to the bookstore later on, Eddie's arm protectively hooked around you through each isle. He got you your book, and you even got to read the first couple of chapters to him in his arms that night.

[moonyswritinq]

charles x american!reader? inspo from the song so american by olivia rodrigo? like him just making fun of an american accent lol

so american — charles rowland x gn reader

❝ SO AMERICAN ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Headcanons/oneshot for Charles with an American reader, based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song ‘So American’.

PAIRING ➢ charles rowland x american gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ pining, banter, implicit sex, ish-canon timeline, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢3.3 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I didn’t know if you wanted a one shot or headcanons, but I felt like this would best fit as a mix of the two. I sort of got carried away. thank you for the request and hope you enjoy!

And if you do enjoy, I URGE you to like, reblog AND comment!!! It's so important to me as a writer.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

Drivin' on the right-side road He says I'm pretty wearin' his clothes And he's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote

Charles had a habit of taking everything lightly and making jokes to play off serious situations, something that could bother you at times.

The first time you met, for instance, was one of those times.

You were driving down the road of your little town and had to slam the brakes as to not run over the incredibly handsome, but incredibly stupid, boy that had just tried to cross the road.

You had honked at him and he looked up in surprise before immediately being pulled back by the hands of a red-headed girl. He broke out in a grin as you drove off with a scoff, internally cursing him.

The next time you saw him was only later that same day, surprisingly at your family friend’s, and the local butcher’s, shop.

You had walked in an immediately let out a sigh of annoyance, one of which he heard and turned around with that same grin plastered on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the boy with a death wish,” you muttered, ignoring him and his friends to go up to the counter. Unluckily for you, Jenny was not there.

The boy scratched his neck bashfully. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Forgot you lot drive on the right side of the road, which is technically the wrong side of the road. Just wasn’t looking.”

An eyebrow raised in his direction. English.

He stepped forward with a hand outstretched. “The name’s Charles. Pleased to meet you.”

You took it as a shiver ran up your spine, weirdly so cold to the touch he felt warm. It was the first time you managed to get a proper look at him, admiring his stylish clothes and sharp features. And his eyes were as warm as his hand was, deep swirling pools of darkness that seemed to emit nothing but light. You smiled back, introducing yourself.

“Pleasure. And this is Edwin, Crystal, and Niko,” he introduced his friends behind him, who all gave you a smile except for the uptight-looking Edwin.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” you said, turning back to the counter as Jenny came out. You handed her the keys to the car with a wink. “Thanks for letting me borrow your car, Jenny. Told you I would return it without a scratch.”

She raised a doubtful eyebrow. “That is left to be seen, kiddo.”

You were about to turn around just when you caught the end of the other teenagers’ conversation. “Did you guys just say ‘Point No Point?” you asked and swivelled around to face them.

Niko nodded enthusiastically, briefly glancing at the boys. “Yeah, we’re going there for a—um, to meet someone there.”

“That’ll take ages without a car,” you remarked.

Crystal sighed. “Well, I can’t drive. How are we gonna get there?”

Your lips lifted into the beginning of a smirk as you turned back to Jenny. She heaved a deep sigh and threw back the keys into your hands.

Your smile broke out as you thanked her and motioned for the others to follow you. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Charles insisted on sitting in the front seat beside you, his feet up on the dashboard, tapping his finger along to the music in the car. You thought it was oddly charming.

You had asked what their whole deal was and Niko had inevitably revealed that they were the Dead Boy Detectives and that Charles was, in fact, dead. Upon hearing it, you almost slammed the breaks again in pure shock but managed to keep driving as if nothing.

And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American

It also started raining on your way there, making you groan in frustration as you remarked that “all this water is going to get Jenny’s car so muddy.”

“‘Wa-der,’” he had chuckled under his breath.

In an instant, you had turned to him with a harsh glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” came his amused reply. “You’re just so American.”

It wasn’t nothing, though. It was the first of many remarks against your American accent.

You had arrived at the lighthouse and very warily gotten out of the car. Somehow you had gotten roped up in their case and was now there to help them out through the end.

Charles had noticed your shivering in the cold rain and offered you his jacket which, despite ghost physics, was quite heavy and warm. You supposed ghosts couldn’t really get wet by normal rain, as both Edwin and Charles seemed unbothered by it.

You had tried to argue against taking it, claiming that you wouldn’t want to ‘strip him of any of his Britishness’, to which he had only scoffed and heaved the thing onto you while saying, “so American of you to assume my Britishness can be stripped away merely by my coat.”

Charles had then given you an appraising look and, while the others were distracted by the ghosts on the pier, bent down slightly to say, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.”

Your cheeks had warmed immediately and you’d turned away to not give it away, earning a chuckle. It made you smile though.

He learnt quickly that complimenting you would earn him a blush and a soft nudge against his ribcage, which made him do it even more.

That was also when he liked pointing out your accent. It started as a small observation, but eventually evolved into insults and bits.

He did it every chance he got; saying ‘lit-er-ally’ with an over-exaggerated vocal fry; ‘aloominum’; ‘hey, y’all’; and, his absolute favourite of them all, ‘i’m walkin here!’. Half of them made you laugh incessantly and the other half made you drag a hand over your face in frustration.

The worst was when he would parrot you personally, making you half wondering if you should be ashamed of your accent. When you had asked him about it, though, he had been quick to assure you that he loved your accent.

And that was when you started doing it back to him.

It became a game for the two of you, often just imitating each other’s accents.

“Are you ‘schewpid’?” you asked, turning to him.

He chuckled dryly, cocking his head in your direction. “Yeah, yeah, while you’re throwing insults at me I am just going to go grab a ‘kawfee’.”

You scoffed. “You’re a ghost, Charles. You can’t have coffee.”

“I can, but it just tastes disgusting.”

“Okay, well, while you’re at it, ‘kan I please ‘ave a cupa wa’a’?” you said, meeting his defiant gaze before he  burst out in laughter. It made your insides warm knowing you were the cause of that laugh.

“Would you two please stop it?” came Crystal’s irritated reply. Edwin only rolled his eyes at your antics but you knew he agreed with Crystal’s discontent. You caught Charles’ gaze and broke out in a smile.

“I don’t know,�� said Niko, fiddling with her fingers, “I think it’s cute when they do that.”

And just like that, you both fell silent and turned away from each other.

Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere he goes

You knew you liked him, a lot. But you hadn’t dared admit anything to him or anyone else and tried your best to hide it—not that you were doing a very good job.

The only thing that knew what you felt were the thrown-away poems you had written on a whim, his beaming face starkly imprinted in your mind.

You didn’t think it was fair for him to make you feel that much, enough to actually write poems about him. God, you were whipped (Charles would have definitely made fun of your using that word if he heard it).

You came with the Dead Boy Detectives on all their cases, now an honorary member in their Detective Agency. You enjoyed a lot of detective stories, like Sherlock Holmes and so seemingly had absorbed some of it, because you were quite good at figuring out clues.

It was all practically worth it to see Charles' smile directed at you after you had discovered something.

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read

And despite it all, you didn’t feel quite enough for him. He was a charismatic and vibrant person, while you thought of yourself as quite rude and boring.

Sometimes you wondered if you were too harsh in your remarks at Charles’ britishness, but then remembered his always-present smile that met your gaze and your worries fell away.

Nothing had happened up until that point, but it became increasingly more difficult denying anything being between you two.

Even Edwin started catching on and asking if something was between you two, which lead to some very awkward silences where Charles would drag Edwin away with an apologetic smile thrown your way.

Until finally it got too difficult to deny.

Niko would ask you something about a case and somehow you would end up talking about Charles’ smile, his eyes, the way he dressed and what he was interested in. She finally got so sick of it and decided to just call you out on it.

“You like Charles.”

You opened your mouth to protest but she put a finger against your lips, causing you to be too stunned to speak.

“And don’t say that you don’t, because it’s obvious,” she said, removing her finger.

“It’s not that obvious, is it?” you asked. You refused to meet her gaze and instead tried to look anywhere but her.

“Yes, it is.” She sighed, bringing her hands up to clasp your shoulders. “We all know it. Even Charles. But he won’t admit it either, so please go talk to him before we all die.”

You rolled your eyes, but felt a small smile start to form on your lips. “OK, just a little dramatic there?”

Niko shook her head with a serious expression on her face. “No. Now go find him.”

She had shooed you away after that, making sure that both Edwin and Crystal were distracted enough so that you could slip out to talk to Charles privately.

You found him in the other room, rooting through his backpack to find something ridiculously large, no wonder.

And he says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him If he keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

He seemed to have heard your footsteps as you were coming in because he tilted his head in your directing, flashing his trademark smile.

The sight of it made you swoon and you had to take a deep breath in order to collect your thoughts. When he finally asked what was up, your words came out jumbled and very much not like you had planned them to come out.

“Hey, hey,” he said, taking ahold of your shoulders and meeting your nervous gaze with his steady one. “Take a deep breath. C’mon, breathe with me.”

You did as he said, breathing with him, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that spread along with his touch. When you had collected yourself, he smiled and let go, much to your disappointment.

“That’s it. Now, what’s on your mind?” he asked.

You strode past him, opting to face the window instead of seeing his face. It only made it harder to get out any coherent sentences. “Why’d you think anything was on my mind?”

“Well,” remarked Charles, strolling after you, “it’s not everyday you storm in here as if the world is ending and then end up babbling like a stroke patient.”

You stared at him in horror before rolling your eyes. “Stop being so British, Charles.”

“Sorry, no can do, love.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you muttered to yourself.

“What?” he asked immediately, striding right in front of you so he could look you in the eyes.

“Look,” you started, refusing to meet his eye and instead looking anywhere else. Although, you could feel his  gaze burning into your skull. “I might have developed some… feelings for you.”

Charles’ eyes widened at your words and you tried to turn again but he grabbed your shoulder to hold you in place. You sighed and finally met his gaze. His eyes were the same mysterious pools of darkness that you were used to, but you might have fooled yourself to imagine something else in them—something hopeful.

You decided to continue your confession because you were far past the point of redemption and might as well get it all out in one go.

“And the problem is, Charles, that however hard I try not to, I keep developing feelings for you. Even your annoying habits and antics cause me to fall for you. And, I swear to God, that if you keep this shit up I’m going to be properly gone for you.”

You waited a breath for his reaction, but when nothing came you were forced to ask him again. “Charles?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered out, his voice suddenly dry and cracked. “Sorry, I—uh, I was not prepared for that.”

You shrugged. “That’s alright. We’ll just go back to being friends. Nothing needs to change.”

He shook his head violently. “That’s absolutely not OK.”

You had but a moment to be surprised before he went in for the best kiss you had had yet in your short life. He held you like he had never touched anything before in his life and kissed you like he was a dying man and you were the cure. You weren't sure how much of it he could feel, but the psychological effect was immediate and mind blowing.

He may be dead but he had never felt more alive than in that moment.

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me When he's with me

Your relationship escalated quickly after that first kiss. You didn’t define it as anything, but it made you happier just knowing he was there by your side—and you could all him yours.

And you wasted no time in physically progressing your relationship—AKA you did not get much sleeping done.

It was a different kind of vulnerable, allowing yourself to give your soul and body to Charles, and him trusting you with himself.

Because of his being a ghost, it felt like so much more an emotional and psychological experience which only made you appreaciate it, and him, more.

By the looks of it, he enjoyed it as well—more than enjoyed it. He couldn’t stop smiling at you afterwards, while he laid on the bed beside you and gazed at you with half-dazed eyes.

Charles let himself curl around you, embracing you. You weren’t sure if ghosts could get tired, but nonetheless he whispered out a, “I’m knackered.”

You had nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You’re so British.”

He kissed your forehead softly, and you felt it more than you had ever felt him before. “And you’re so American.”

You only chuckled and let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms holding you close.

You never wanted to get out of bed or leave him, and he utilised that fact to his every advantage.

He did everything he could to keep you in bed with him, even though he probably didn’t sleep much, just wanting to hold you close.

It wasn’t fair how easy he made your heart melt.

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love? I think I'm in love

It didn’t take long for you to know that it wasn’t merely affection you felt for Charles, but something much deeper.

You didn’t want to presume Charles felt anything close to what you felt, though.

So you continued acting like whatever the two of you were—kissing and hooking up—not quite a couple but not quite friends with benefits, but something in between that went deep between you two.

Without any real definition for what you two were, it frightened you out of saying anything to him.

So you kept going with the featherlight kisses, the quiet giggles after one of you said a joke and were trying to cover it up as to not disturb the rest of the group, and the endless nights where you could be in his arms and have not a care in the world.

But it was on your mind, constantly.

Oh, how you just wished to say those three words to him, to just have it out in the open. So he could have you with the truth staring into his face and do with you what he pleased.

You wanted to splay yourself open for him, vulnerable and unafraid, show him yourself and let him love you back with the same ferocity with which you loved.

And finally, it became too much.

He was on his way out for one of the cases, one of which you chose not to go with them to. He had just collected all his belongings in that backpack of his and went in for a goodbye kiss.

“Be careful,” you whispered between parted lips, leaving the ghost of your words on his mouth. He smiled through it and pulled away.

“Always am,” came his cheeky reply, winking at you before turning to the door. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you called, and then, without thinking, “Love you.”

It took a mere moment for his brain to register your words before he halted and slowly turned in his step.

“What?”

Your own eyes widened in surprise of yourself and you were quick to come up with a way to play it off as a mistake or a stumble upon your words. But he crossed the distance between you with long strides, dropping his backpack and bringing his hands up to hold your cheeks tenderly.

“What did you just say?” he whispered, eyes shifting back and forth between yours trying to find the truth in your words. Your mouth fell agape, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him again, so close now so that you could feel his short breaths of air on your skin. “Please,” he said again, voice so soft you had to strain to hear him.

“I mean, it might be a little too much, too soon, and I don’t want to assume anything, but..” Your voice trailed off, breaking. Your lips fought to form the words that so desperately wanted to make their way out of you. “But I—I love you, Charles.”

He breathed out huge sigh of relief and captured your lips with his. “I love you too,” he whispered between breaths, barely audible.

Your smile could not be hindered as he kissed you back, fiercely and passionately. He kept pressing kisses on your mouth, on the corner of your lips, trailing to your cheeks, to your neck, down to your shoulders and your chest. All the while he kept repeating those same three words, “I love you,” over and over again, pressing them into your skin. Into your soul, essentially.

Your hands were grasped in his hair, fingers curling around his locks as you felt every touch of his lips that brought forth a shiver down your spine. Not from the coldness, though, but from the feeling of his soul connecting to yours.

He kept pressing featherlight kisses to you with small ‘I love you’s, and you couldn’t fight the laugh that escaped its way through you.

“Okay, stop it” you whispered, pulling his head away to grasp his face in your hands. You met his eyes with a smile and his beaming grin made your insides melt. “I love you so much, Charles.”

He laughed, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Now, come on, you got a case to solve.”

Charles let himself be lead away to the others, refusing to let go of your hand. He even pressed kisses to the back of it every chance he got, and you were roped into going to the case with the rest of them, if only not to leave Charles’ side.

Tag list: @bookholichany, @heartsfromcoco, @scriblezz, @a-gay-dumbass, @eunxhan, @loverclear, @shobolanya, @edit-me-prettyplease

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Oblivious To Love

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: five hargreeves x female reader

warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing

summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon

a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!

song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.

He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.

He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.

That was until you came.

Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.

You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.

You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.

You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.

Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.

He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.

To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.

"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.

He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."

"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."

He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.

Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.

The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.

However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.

"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"

He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."

"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.

To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.

You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.

True, pure love.

It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.

After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.

You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."

You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."

He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.

You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.

He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"

"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"

"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"

"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.

"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"

Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."

He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what about-"

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.

He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.

He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.

You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.

You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.

He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."

[junniieesbby]

༯ Teacher’s Pet |Choi Yeonjun ༯

Pairing: Professor Yeonjun x F!Student reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, forbidden romance, 10 year Age cap (reader is 22+ when they met).

WC: 2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Having dirty thoughts about one of your professors you couldn’t control yourself but to make them come true. Only for you to end up heartbroken after.

Warning: STRAIGHT FILTH. Lots of degradation. Reader is a brat. Use of pet names such as sir, Baby, teacher’s pet, Slut, Whore. Age Gap. Ass smacking, hair pulling. Spit.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.

Song: Teacher’s Pet By: Melanie Martinez

A/N: I’m all for happy endings but um this one is not ending in one I fear not. Maybe if you guys want a part two but it won’t be anytime soon because your girl is heartbroken. A big shout out to my favorite people @boba-beom @lovejoshua @gyupremacy @honajoong @flwrseon for helping me with the header and me asking you guys a bunch of questions to see what fits most! And a special shout out for @boba-beom for giving me the glasses idea hehe. ILY guys💕I also would like to say if you want to see more scenarios that include age gap professor Yeonjun please send me an ask.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Your Favorite part about your English Literature course was the eye candy of a professor you had. He was a young professor and all the girls wanted to fuck him while all the boys wanted to be him. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at him every time you walked in the class, making sure you came early so you could get a seat in front of him. Everytime you walked in, his eyes would linger on you. You spent the time in his class daydreaming about all the different ways he would fuck you.

One morning you woke up bold and decided today would be the day. You did your hair and makeup. And you wore one of the shortest skirts you had. And went to class like usual early. As you walk in you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. He looked so fuckable in his outfit and those glasses of his. You felt yourself get wet just imagining riding him while taking those glasses off and wearing them to be a brat.

After class ended you waited until everyone was out so you could approach him. He was sitting slightly on his desk with his arms crossed “Is there a reason you stayed behind Miss Y/L/N?” He asked, looking you up and down. You walked up to him standing so close to him. You lifted one of your hands and placed it on his bulge. “Is it wrong that I’ve needed you to fuck me since the moment I saw you” you whisper to him. He takes his hand and lifts your chin up to look at him both your faces mere inches from each other. He sighs and moves away going to sit in his chair murmuring a “you’re young”. You didn’t care about the age, looking at him and saying “I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years”. He shook his head and said “why do you need me to fuck you? You are my top student in all the classes I teach” he readjust his glasses. “don't care 'bout grades, just call me your Baby.” You slowly walk and stand in front of him.

“Fuck it” He whispers getting up walking to the door locking it. He marches towards you “tell me to not touch you and let you go and I will unlock that door and let you go, but if you don’t I will be fucking you so hard you won’t be able to move for days… so what is it going to be baby?” He got so close to you, your noses were touching. You knew this would be wrong but didn’t care you needed to feel him deep inside of you. “Fuck me Sir” Three words. It took three words for him to crash his lips down to yours while beginning to undo his pants and pulling his cock out.

“Did you decide to dress like a filthy slut for me? Did you want my cock that bad?” He reached inside your short skirt and started to rub circles on your clothed core. You couldn't believe he was finally touching you in ways you'd been dreaming about. “Be the good little teacher’s pet that you are and answer me when I am asking you questions.” He pinches your clit to get your attention. “Yes, Yes I dressed like a filthy slut for you. I need your cock sir been dying to have it inside of me” You moan when he moves the fabric aside and starts to slide his tip up and down coating his tip and your juices.

“Does my pretty girl need any prepping? Or should I just fuck her like shes been asking me to hmm?” His teasing was driving you crazy. “Fuck me please just fuck me” you try to move closer to him. He pummels inside of you without a warning, his thrusts going deep. Deeper than you’ve ever felt before. He started to move faster and harder with each thrust and you couldn’t help but clench and squeeze around him.

“Shit, pretty girl you keep doing that and I might just breed this sweet pussy…oh you like that? My little slut wants me to breed her doesn’t she?” The more he spoke the more you clenched around him. Yeonjun knew what he was doing. He was much older than you and you had little to no experience. The guys you had been with didn’t make you feel an ounce of how he was making you feel.

“Yes, yes right there sir oh fuck” You felt yourself getting closer and closer. Looking at his beautiful face you couldn’t help yourself but to slide his glasses off and wear them while holding onto his biceps for support. “You look so damn sexy in my glasses I will let it slide this time but act like a little brat again and I’ll show you what brats like you get” He starts to kiss your jaw and sucking your neck making sure to leave a few marks.

As you were about to come he pulled out and flipped you over taking one of your legs and putting it on his desk. He thrusted in you from behind and the new angle made your eyes roll in the back of your head. He pulled your hair bringing your head closer to him, hips not faltering one bit. He put his hand around your jaw and brought you even closer. “Open your mouth baby” and you do exactly what he says. He does something you least expect and it turns you on even more. He spits in your mouth then closes your mouth telling you to “swallow like a good girl” while bringing that same hand he had on your jaw down smacking your ass.

“Please, please I need to come let me come please” You beg him not able to resist your release any longer. “Just a few more seconds my love I’m right there with you” His tone changed and he softened down but his thrusts were sending you so close to the edge. After a few more seconds His thrust became slower and slopier. “Come for me baby, let go for me you’ve been such a good girl” as soon as he said that you came like you’ve never done before. Your legs were shaking, your mind was fuzzy, there was drool coming down your chin. He filled you up, and the feeling of his cum inside you lit a spark. You weren’t sure if this was one of your day dreams or a reality.

He pulled out and took your panties with him while bringing your skirt down. His cum was seeping out of you and he gathered it with his fingers pushing it back inside of you while he made you lick the rest of his fingers. “Can I have my panties back?” You ask him finally after you have recollected yourself. “No they are mine now and plus I want you walking while you feel my cum inside your sweet cunt.” He had a way with words that just made you melt.

You stood back on your feet going to grab your book bag and started walking to the door. “See you next week Mr.Choi” you say smiling. “Wait” you halt and turn around. “I need my glasses back” He says pointing to your face. “No they’re mine now and plus I want you to fuck me like your brat next time so I will be keeping them for now.” You say back turning around and walking around catching his little chuckle while saying “such a brat.” You get home and look at yourself in the mirror not believing the girl staring back at you. You looked like you had your soul fucked out of you. That night you went to bed in a really good mood.

*Time Skip*

Fucking Yeonjun became part of your routine. Some days you would go on your knees for him as he graded papers. Other days you cock warmed him which led to you acting out and getting put in your place. You two enjoyed each other’s company and the sex was euphoric.

You knew what you were doing was wrong, but he made you feel special and took care of your needs like no one could. Walking into class you shoot him a smile, but unlike how he would smile back at you the past month and a half he just nodded. You found it odd but didn’t pay much attention to it as you took your seat.

Even though you were the first to finish your quiz you decided to wait until the last person to turn their quiz in for you to finally get up. As per usual you hand him your paper and you go lock the door. Walking back to him saying “If I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies?” He chuckles sarcastically “You’re crazy” he said. Hurt by his words and unusual demeanor you looked him straight in the eyes and said “Don’t call me crazy” You go and stand in front of him. “What’s going on? We were just fine last week. Why are you being like this?” He sighs and turns his head. “You’re special, and you need someone just as special as you. You need someone your own age and better than me” Your tears pulled in your eyes at his words. “When Did I ask for any of that? Do you think I don’t know about our age gap? Was I not good enough? Do you regret the things we shared that I’ll never forget. Why are you not saying anything?” You grab his jaw and turn his face to look at you.

“I don’t regret a single moment with you Y/N, but you know this thing between us is wrong, we have to put an end to it now.” Tears were streaming down your face now and Yeonjun couldn’t watch you in pain especially knowing he was the cause behind it. He gets up and walks out the door and your last words to him brought him to tears. Watching him walk out you couldn’t take it anymore shouting “I knew this wouldn’t last, Fuck you don’t you leave me here.” As the door shuts behind your professor you slide down hugging yourself and just crying at the pain this has caused you.

There was no one to blame but yourself you thought.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

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[hrryshoney]

no. 1 party anthem

A/N: lowkey projecting bc im a photographer/videographer❤️ this is set during like self-titled. if u could tell. named this after the AM song bc i think it fits (the bridge of this song is so them coded) this is unnecessarily long (6.1k words) but anyway Enjoy

warnings: smut 18+. um fingering, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation a bit? (male), degradation, praise, use of a camera during sex, Sir kink, exhibitionism (kinda), sex on a couch, light choking/slapping (blink and miss it!), probs more kinda filthy etc..

Today was shit. Complete and utter shit. Your alarm didn’t go off, you spilled coffee all over yourself, had to go home to change, and you were going to be late to your first clients appointment. It’s only 8:30, and you could already tell it was going to be a bad day.

Your first client was booked at 7:45. You only had four appointments today. Normally, you’d be a bit more booked out. But, your last clients would take up more time than usual. An up-and-coming band you heard, that were quite popular already. Their management had informed them about your local studio, and an appointment was made.

Upon walking into your studio promptly at 8:00, you saw that your best friend was stalling for you. She had your first client engulfed in mindless conversation. God love her, Lexi knew how to keep a crowd entertained. Really, showing up 15 minutes late wasn’t a good look. You were glad she was here to null some of the damage.

As you walked up to them, you caught the tail end of her gossiping, no doubt. You placed your hand on Lexi’s shoulder, startling her out of conversation. “Oh! Let me get out of your way. I was just telling Christian how my last shift at the diner was absolute madness. As always, though. He’s all checked in. Have fun, hope the shoot goes well!” You shot her an appreciative smile, then an apologetic one to Christian.

Stepping out of the lobby and leading him to the studio, you were face to face with him. “I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting. This morning was one from hell, for sure.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. Shit happens.” He smiled back at you, following you into the room.

You were grateful for his understanding, hoping it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. You prided yourself on being punctual and professional. Thankfully, the studio was already set up for his shoot

You took the lens cap off your camera and began to set up your tripod for some head shots. Flipping the camera switch to ON, you then turned to Christian.

“Let’s get started.”

…

Your next 2 appointments went on without a hitch. They were both fairly basic shoots, nothing too heavy. Your 2nd client was even a regular. She was so lovely. Today she came in to get maternity photos with her husband. Considering how long she’s been coming to your studio, you were ecstatic for her.

You were still a bit out of it and tired though, the effects of your morning not completely worn off yet. You had an hour and 45 minutes before your last clients for the day came in. The band that you’ve been anticipating.

It was 11:34 now, so you were taking this as an opportunity for your lunch break. You decided to go to the sandwich shop that was about a block down from your studio. Walking out of the darkroom in your facility, (some guests preferred genuine photographic film) you spotted Lexi. Still behind the front desk, but now on a stool, slouched and looking at her phone. Mindlessly scrolling, she was kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled from her place in her seat.

“Hungry?” You came up beside her, tapping her thigh twice. Lexi was pulled out of whatever she was watching on her phone, looking up at you. “Mhm, starving. Lunch?”

“On me,” You confirmed, “thought we could get it in before our last clients. They’re gonna take a while, but I’m looking forward to it.” You said honestly, looking out the studio’s glass windows to the street. “Have we ever shot a band?” You use the term ‘we’ loosely. When you and your best friend both got a start, you always knew that you were going to be more hands-on. She didn’t necessarily share the passion for photography, but when she had no shifts picked up for her service job at the local diner, she would pay you a visit. She stuck beside you, and you’re thankful for it.

Lexi does most of the behind the scenes work for you when she’s there, and it would honestly be 10x harder without her. “Don’t think so. I would have remembered that. Every guy in a band is, like, insanely hot.” She hopped off her stool, beat white converse hitting the ground.

“Good to know where your priorities are. Hopefully they’re cooperative.” You wondered aloud, you knew they were young. That normally meant they would be rowdy, too. Four guys around your age was bad news in general, even worse that they’re musicians. “Hopefully they’re hot.” Lexi corrects, too caught up in picking at her nail beds to see your expression.

She had you laughing out loud. Wide eyes and an even wider grin on your face. “Right, extra incentive.” You picked up your keys to the front door that were lying on one of the shelves under the front desk. Checking your watch and walking to the door, you flipped the sign to CLOSED so you and Lex could grab a bite in peace.

…

You and Lexi wasted more time than you thought. You were out for at least an hour, having went shopping after eating. You both decided you could use a new outfit. Not for anything particular, but just to treat yourselves. Then, you traveled back to the studio.

30 minutes until your next client, you still had time to kill. You went to read the email from their management, again. You saw they specifically wanted a couch in their shoot. You should probably set up their studio now. You knew you had an old, black leather couch in the back somewhere. Finding it would be the hard part.

It wouldn’t be in any of your front studios, so you decided to check the last one first. Studio 13, it was more of a storage room now. When you first leased this place, you were pretty sure it used to be a one-level warehouse. You’re never booked to the point where you’re using all the studios, and you don’t have enough staffing anyway. Still, it cleans up nicely.

You end up shouting for Lex’s help dragging the big couch to your front studio. You had already set up a white tarp for your backdrop, knowing it was a pretty minimalistic shoot. As you lug the couch along the concrete floor, the feet of it scraping against it to make a rather brash noise, you began to think the soft, calming music that you queued to combat it wasn’t working very well.

You finally push the last bit of the couch into the studio, dragging it in front of the white tarp. Lexi raised her hand for a high five, which you gladly reciprocate. You look at her with a grin. “Not bad, huh? Little studio we got going.” You both laugh, staring at the quite bleak set.

“Best in town,” Lex returns dryly, she steps out and looks to the front windows. “Those your clients?” Before you even look, you answer. Albeit sarcastically, “And I’m supposed to know, how? I’ve never met these people before.” But the words died in your throat the moment you looked. They had to be your next clients. You didn’t think anyone could fit the bill for ‘band members’ more perfectly.

So, there they were. Smoking and loitering outside the studio. And Lexi was right, because she always had to be. They were hot. No sooner than you think it, the words are coming out her mouth. “Christ, they’re handsome.” All of them wearing some short of black getup, with tight jeans and t-shirts. One boy, with longer, blonde hair, had his sunglasses on with a snapback. She laughs through her sentence in disbelief, a hand coming to her mouth. You can’t help but follow suit.

“Right, well. Even if they are, he best not ash his cig in my flower pots.” You squinted your eyes, the cigarette resting between the boys middle and index figure. Trailing your gaze to his face, he had dark curly hair. A pale complexion with deep brown eyes, cheeks sunken in as he took a drag of his cigarette. The face that, after you finished staring, you saw was looking right at you with a half-smirk. You smiled back and looked to Lex, taking a step back into the front studio. “He saw me.”

“You weren’t exactly being subtle, but oh well. That’s the one you want?” She raises her eyebrows in a tease, a wide grin splitting across her lips. Your face and body heat, eyes widening. “Can you not? I need to be professional. This is the real deal, you know? They’ve got management and everything.” You didn’t wanna blow your shot, you knew this was the foot in the door to bigger things. Cute band members were not taking this one from you.

Your hands came subconsciously to brush at your outfit, looking down at yourself to see if you looked presentable. You could practically hear your best friend’s thoughts, and the smirk on her face. You ignored her.

The bell on your door rang with entrance, and you turned to see one of the guys walking in. He had shorter dirty blonde hair, and you could see one of the others stomping on his cigarette before following behind.

Putting on your customer service smile, you took a few steps back to make room for the 4 men in the lobby. You scooted closer to Lexi, suddenly feeling outnumbered. Four sets of eyes were now looking back at you. Two brunettes, one who had closer to black hair. Two blondes, one whose was longer and lighter.

“Nice to meet you,” You sighed out, their intimidating gazes piercing. “So, um, welcome to our studio.” You introduced the both of you, giving your name and Lexi’s. Gesturing between the two of you with a wave of your hand.

They went down the line doing the same. Ross, Matty, Adam, and George. In that order, introductions exchanged in their thick accents through giggles. The boy you had taken interest in you now knew as Matty, and he was only drawing you in more.

“Well, we can get started on your session early since… you’re here.” You looked to the group, waiting for some sort of approval. You got a couple head nods, and a smirk from Matty.

“That eager to get us in, babe?” He chuckled, knocking his shoulder into his friend’s playfully. You felt embarrassment flood through you, but you led them to the studio with your head up.

“Sure. So, Studio 13. I’ll get a lot of ‘full band’ shots, but your manager said he wanted some solo shots of the each of you, too. Think it’ll be easier to get the group ones now, though.” You told them, wringing your hands slightly.

There was a small murmur of agreement, and you turned around to get your camera ready. Checking your lens, SD card, battery. “Whatever you think, you’re the pro.” Your head shot up, seeing Ross smile reassuringly at you. You returned the gesture and got back to work.

As you walked around the room to flick your lights on, you saw Matty shooting his friend a look. You didn’t think too much of it, but your eyes couldn’t stop finding his face. You were gonna have fun photographing him solo. “Okay, everyone! Get together, pose, do whatever you want. I’ll take a bunch of shots.”

After a few pictures, you stopped. Lowering your camera. “Maybe.. We should get you in the middle.” You pointed at Matty, him freezing in his place at the end of the line. “I mean, you’re just…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the point.

George spoke up, saving you from having to complete your sentence. “She’s saying you’re the shortest, mate. Get in the middle.” He snickered, hand raising to his mouth to hide his smile.

Matty’s smile dropped, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, moving to his new spot. “Better?” He tried to hold back his laugh, but was failing over the sound of his friends chuckles in the background.

Once you got them started, you could see they really were naturals. You assumed their close bond caused them to work so well and naturally together. Joking around, but still getting good shots.

However, this perception faded when you had to go in for the solos. Of course, above anything, they were boys. And they were also making your job a living hell. No matter who you were photographing, the other three were trying to get a laugh. Anything to make their friend break.

Your last straw was when you tried to get a photo of Adam, and Matty all but fell into his lap. You laughed along, (because truly, it really was just a little bit funny), but forced yourself back into work mode.

“Okay, this isn’t working. How about for the solo shots the rest of you stand out in the hallway? And we get a little rotation.” You suggested, trying to make yourself sound as light hearted as possible. Though a wave of whines passed over the group, they ultimately agreed in the end.

Working with them one-on-one was really nice. The two guys you shot so far, Adam and George, were very intelligent and funny. Unnaturally respectful for men your age, and you really couldn’t complain.

You finished both of them up, their mini shoots taking about 15 minutes each. You went back in the hallway you collect another one of them.

Adam and George now stood to the side, leaving Matty and Ross to linger right outside the door. You opened the door, looking at both of them and keeping your palm on the door handle. “Who’s next?”

Ross’ eyes went to Matty’s, about to step backwards and let him go. Then, Matty’s arm shot out to land on Ross’ shoulder. It seemed he tried to give his friend a shove forward, but the most he got out of Ross was a stumble. “Ross will go next. Save the best for last and all that, right?”

You giggled at Matty’s antics, while the rest of his friends let out sighs and eye rolls. Ross mumbled something under his breath, a sarcastic ‘right, sure..’ was the most you caught. You then lead him into the studio, closing the door on your way.

Ross’ session took about 5 minutes more than the others. He was incessantly flirting, making it hard to do your job. And while there was no denying that he was very cute, you knew they were all harmless comments.

You were finding out quickly that the boys were good company. And the shots were all turning out more than great. They were all so naturally photogenic, and the camera loved them. You doubted you’d have to do much editing.

…

You walked out with Ross, on your way to finally bring Matty in. You two lightly chatted on your way out, Matty’s eyes landing on you the second the door opened. He looked at Ross and tilted his head, to which the taller boy only looked down at him and grinned.

You broke the awkward silence, clapping your hands together. “Right, well. Matty, last but not least and all that.” You step back and put your hands up, gesturing for him to step in before you.

Once you finally got him away from the rest of the band and you closed the door, his whole demeanor shifted. Matty turned around instantly to look at you, and you looked down to the floor. You could see his smile through your periphery.

“Okay, so. For the rest of the guys I got a few of them standing and a few of them sitting on the couch…” You trail off, looking around the room. At this point, you’re just desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. Maybe saving him for last wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Okay,” Matty nods his head, eyes following yours and looking around the studio. “Should I.. get on the couch?” He says offhandedly, a hand coming to hide the smirk that’s blooming on his face.

You feel your face get hot, but you agree anyway. “Um, yeah. That’ll work.” You walk over to the studio light, dragging it in place from where you moved it when with Ross.

After getting the area set up, you turn back to Matty. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for direction. “You can just pose however you want. I’ll just take a bunch of shots and there’s bound to be some keepers.” You smile and turn your camera on, fiddling with the settings.

“Have to tell me if I’m doing good, then. Don’t know what I’m doing when I pose, to be honest.” He laughs, moving in his seat a bit. You scoff, still too preoccupied with your camera to realize you did it out loud. “What?” he asks intrigued, still smiling.

“Don’t think you could really look bad. I mean, you’re photogenic and good looking to begin with, so.” You press your lips together, the words flowing out of your mouth too freely. You turn around and walk to a cart that’s in the corner of the room, pretending to grab something from it.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Think I look good?” His smile grows unbelievably wider, not being able to hold back his teasing remarks. You roll your eyes, obviously not meaning the blatant compliment to come out. You come closer to him and he kicks his knee out so it brushes your thigh.

Trying to brush it off, you shrug your shoulders. “You caught me,” You said with the faintest smirk on your face. Taking photos of him flows naturally. He’s just too.. perfect. And though you don’t throw that word around, he really is. You already love the few shots you have of him.

You get down on your knees to take the next picture from a better angle, leaning back on your calves as you do. Matty’s eyes widen and immediately find yours. It doesn’t register in your head what he’s thinking, until you see him shift in his seat.

He doesn’t do it subtly, and you know he wants you to look. You’re no better, so easily giving into temptation. Your eyes drag to his hips, watching the way he lifts himself off the couch momentarily.

“Alright, babe?” He calls, drawing your attention back up to his face. Though, your gaze lingers on his mouth. He winks at you.

“Should I be asking you that instead?” You hide behind the camera, snapping more pictures. You remembered the promise you made to Lexi and yourself. Be professional.

He chuckled, bringing his hands to run them along his thighs. “Only if you’re gonna help me out.” His eyes search yours for an answer, and you can only guess that you look as desperate as you feel. You nod.

His hands run higher, rubbing over the tent in his jeans. “Gonna need your words, then.” He smirks, and you feel so out of control. But it feels nice.

“Yes, please. I’ll help you.” You get up from your spot on the floor, ready to move towards him. Matty’s hand presses on himself harder, and he groans.

“Ah,” He tsks, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t get to touch me yet, we’re not done our photo shoot.” He smiles, which then gets interrupted with a moan. The only thing you’re focusing on is how he works himself with his hand.

“Please, Matty. Need you.” You’re already begging him, but you don’t dare move from your spot. Because you want to be good for him. You feel the pit in your stomach, and then the pool of arousal in your panties.

“C’mon, take a picture of me baby. Isn’t that your job?” Matty throws his head back, palming himself through his jeans even more. You feel your knees weaken, the camera suddenly heavier in your hand.

You bring the camera up to your face, looking through the view finder. Matty looks sinful. You clench your thighs together and his hips lift off the couch even more, a whimper falling past his lips. You take the photo.

“Knew you’d be so fucking eager. Could see ya eye fucking me since we got here.” Matty starts to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to be less constrained by the pressure. You don’t even think when your finger hits the button.

“Like you weren’t doing the same?” You shoot back, voice coming out breathier than intended. He lifted his hips up, pulling his jeans down past his thighs. He was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. The imprint of his hard cock very much visible.

He strokes himself over his boxers, mouth parting slightly. “Watch that mouth, thought you were a good girl.” He groans out through gritted teeth. “Come here.”

You obey, of course. Walking straight to him, though your mouth gets the best of you. “Maybe you thought wrong.” You say with an innocent smile, the toes of your shoes hitting his. He grabs your wrist, bringing it to his dick. He moves your hand up and down, letting you feel all of him.

“Wanna be a brat for me, baby? Come on, take me out. I’ve got another use for that mouth.” You reach for his waistband, your camera still in your other hand. He notices the compromising position and takes it from you. You expect him to put it to the side, but he keeps it in his hand. “Get back on your knees.”

You lower yourself down, pulling Matty out fully. He’s pretty. His cock is long and thick, the tip slightly red with precum beading out from touching himself. “So big, Sir.” You look up at him through your lashes, pumping him twice. He whines out.

“Sir, huh?” He smirks, throat gravelly. You work your hands around his length more. Then, you hear it. The camera shutter. You look up, his eyes looking through the viewfinder.

“Can I suck you off?” You bat your eyelashes, waiting for permission. Matty’s hands falter, bringing the camera down slightly. He hums.

“Mhm, take your top off, sweetheart. Leave your bra and leggings.” You pull your hands off him, swiping your shirt over your head. You were wearing a blue bra with lace trim, and it pushed your tits together nicely. Thank you, Lord.

Matty started to pump his cock when your hand left, now working himself faster. “Open your mouth.” You submitted to him, quickly sticking your tongue out. You subconsciously pushed your breasts together with your elbows.

Matty slapped his dick on your tongue, loving the way your moans vibrated around him. He teased you, taking himself away to take another picture. “Please, please Sir.” You rock yourself on your heel, the desperation growing.

“Little slut,” He giggles, pressing his cock into your mouth. Groaning out when you close your lips around him. You could only take a little more than half of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Your hands came up to work the rest of what didn’t fit. “Made for this, to take my cock.” You whined around him at that. Hollowing your cheeks and pulling off a bit. You say something around him that he can’t make out, and he bucks into your mouth.

Matty’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head, hand tangling in your hair. “Like that? Wanna be my fucktoy?” You nod around him, bringing one of your hands to rub yourself over your leggings. Matty guides your head down on him until you gag, letting you pull off and take a breath.

Tears welling in your eyes, you swallow your saliva and look back up at him. “I’m okay, please keep going. I like it.” You respond to the concerned look in his eyes, and he nods. Before you take him in your mouth again, you spit back on his cock.

“Fucking hell, shit.” Matty moans, throwing his head back on the frame of the couch. He pushes your head down again, making you take his whole cock in your mouth. You don’t gag this time, and he starts to move his hips.

He’s fucking your mouth, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You felt your knees starting to bruise, and you rubbed your cunt faster. The only thing separating you being two layers of fabric.

He pulled you off of him, then. Looking at you touching yourself. “Getting off on making me feel good? S’pathetic, baby.” He teased you, and you heard the camera go off yet again. “C���mon, up here. Gonna make you feel good.”

What a gentleman, you think. Not coming before you. The thought makes you giggle, but it’s interrupted by your own shriek when he pulls you onto the couch. He places you on his thigh, grinding you down against him. Your whines are constant and he’s not letting up. “Please, Matty. I want you.” You whimper.

Matty pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. You state shamelessly, taking in all of his tattoos. They make him even more attractive, and you know you’re only feeding his ego with your wide eyes and parted lips.

He flips your position, and now Matty’s on his knees before you. He pulls your leggings off briskly. Then, you’re only left in a bra and panties. He presses over the wet spot on your panties, and you jolt. He hooks his finger in them, and pulls them to the side.

His fingers run through your wetness, and you’re practically glistening under the studio lights. He slips his middle finger inside of you, but it’s gone as soon as it came. You squirm, needing to feel any kind of friction. He pulls you closer to him by your thighs, spreading your legs wide.

He’s just staring for a few minutes, until you feel him blow a gust of cold air onto your exposed cunt. You scream out, hips bucking off the couch. Matty lightly slaps your inner thigh. “Sh, don’t want our friends to know what a whore you are, right? Giving it up so easy for a guy you just met.” You hear the smirk in his words, his accent becoming thicker and breathing more rapid.

Without warning, he licks a bold stripe up the center of your pussy. You put your hand in front of your mouth, muffling the moans. Matty sees this, however, and has a different idea. He says something without lifting up from you, the feeling of his mouth making your eyes roll back. Finally, he pulls off of you. “Camera.”

You whine, “Huh?” The camera is suddenly being placed in your hand, the weight making you shake more. “Only fair you get some pictures of me. Had your photoshoot, now it’s my turn.” And with that, his mouth is back on you.

Matty licks your clit, pursing his lips and sucking. Your legs start to shake, and he brings his hand around to insert his middle finger in your hole. Your whole body goes weak, the light grip you have on the camera not helping.

Matty continues eating you, and he’s messy with it. You feel your slick on your inner thighs. His tongue goes inside of you, slowly moving in circles. He pulls off again, watching you clench around nothing before shoving his face between your thighs.

Your moans are nonsensical, bucking your hips off the couch and squirming uncontrollably. Matty spits on your cunt, moving his hand to pinch at your clit. “Fuck! Oh my God, Matty. Don’t tease.”

“God or Me, which one?” He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your clit. “You haven’t taken any photos, Miss ‘pro’.” He brings up Ross’ words from earlier, the realization causing you to smile. The smile is wiped away, though, when he runs his two fingers through your slit and puts them inside of you.

Your mind clears, and you finally take a photo. You don’t even bother to check the shot anymore, just clicking the button mindlessly. Matty grins and curls his fingers inside you. His tongue laying flat against your clit.

He sucks on you again, scissoring his fingers slowly. “Mm, please, Sir. Gonna cum, please.” You beg, hoping he won’t take it away from you. That he’ll just allow you to let go. You take another picture, the top of his hair and bottom of your abdomen most likely the only things visual.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you really want. Fill you up with this cock.” He stutters in his words, and you realize his other hand went down to lightly stroke himself. More precum that he’s been using to lubricate himself.

You cum with a shout, that’s muffled by his lips on yours. Matty swallows your moans, sticking his tongue in your mouth instead. You can barely taste yourself on his tongue, and you ride his fingers through your orgasm. “Matty, Matty. Shit, thank you.” You pant, chest heaving.

“Good girl.” He pats the top of your head condescendingly, snickering. He stands back up to his full height. “Don’t thank me yet, ‘M just getting started with you.” His hand comes behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to your lap. “Lift your hips up, love.”

You do as he says, letting him pull your panties off. He throws both scraps of fabric somewhere on the grand. His hand immediately going towards your tits. He grabs a handful, and starts kissing down your neck.

“Sir, need you now. Can’t wait anymore.” Matty’s lips attach to your collarbone. He bites you, sucking on the spot. He licks over the red mark, moving to another spot on your neck to do the same.

“You’ll fuckin’ wait if I make you. Do anything to please me, right?” You nod, head rolling to rest on your shoulder. You finally feel satisfied when Matty takes his cock, resting it just above your pussy.

He lines himself up, but never goes where you need him. He keeps bumping your clit, every time making your body twitch. He holds your hip in place, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. The only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is please, mixes of Matty and Sir.

He puts his tip inside of you, feeling you clench and then quickly pulling out. You whine, trying to move down the couch and put him back in. “Beg for me if you want it so bad, baby.” Matty is hard, and you know he must be aching as bad as you are. His cock and angry red, you know he needs to give in soon.

“Please! Please, I need it. Need you so bad.” You’re not above begging, obviously. And Matty loved it. He groaned, your wet cunt coming in contact with his dick again.

“Need what? Gotta use your words like a big, or I won’t know.” He rubbed his cock down your slit, pressing on top of your clit. He moved his hips forward slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You threw your head back, “You! Your cock, Matty. Need it inside me.” You tried to close your legs, clenching around nothing and needing friction. Matty gripped your inner thighs, prying them apart and pressing them to either end of the couch.

He lined himself up with your dripping hole again, slipping inside of you slightly. “Gonna give it to you, ruin you.” With that, Matty thrusted inside of you. He started slow, half his cock inside of you. He was stretching you out so good, letting you adjust. “More,” You grit out, teeth clenching in your head.

“Was gonna give it to you gently.” He pressed more of himself inside of you, watching you shake your head. His hand came up to grip your jaw, making you look at him. “You don’t want it slow, right? Just wanna be fucked dumb.” Matty pushed the rest of his cock inside of you. Finally, you were taking him in full.

“Yes! Yes, Sir.” You feel so whole, so full. It makes you want to scream, and you bring your knuckle to your mouth and bite down. You see Matty reaching behind your head for something, and see him with the camera in hand.

He pulls halfway out of you, and the camera shutters yet again. “Look at the way you grip me, christ. Just milking my cock. He starts pounding into you again, hips slapping against yours.

Matty has a steady rhythm, it feels so fucking good for you. You keep clenching around him, and you’re close again from your other orgasm. “Faster, sir. Please.” You jut your lips out. “Wanna cum.” Matty laughs.

“Thought you wanted to be my toy, huh? Sit so pretty for me and take it? That’s dirty, you know, babe. Toys don’t get to cum.” He pouts at you in faux sympathy, eyes casting down towards you. The leather couch was making you sweat now, his gaze piercing through you.

“Please, Sir. Need it so bad, I’ll be so good. I’ll be quiet.” You whined, hips coming off the couch before Matty’s strong hand pushes you back down. Letting your head fall back, a gasp escapes your mouth again when his hand attaches to your clit.

“You’re greedy. Already came once and begging like a slut for it again.” He presses down on your clit, thrusting into you harder. He does go faster, speeding up his rhythm. Your stomach turns and you know you won’t be able to hold it.

Matty’s hand comes to rest lightly on your throat, pressing his thumb into one of the hickeys. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

You do, with a shout so loud Matty doesn’t even bother covering it. He’s too focused on reaching his own release. He speeds up even more, riding you through your orgasm and making you overstimulated. “Fuck, fuck. Good girl. Where can I cum, baby?”

“My mouth.” You say with no hesitation, and he pulls out of you cunt. Matty moves up slightly, and pumps his cock above you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and the visual makes him cum. He throws his head back with a loud moan, letting his cock hit your bottom lip.

You swallow, holding his eye contact. He curses under his breath, picking the camera back up and taking a picture of you like that. Then, one with his thumb pulling on your bottom lip before he wipes the corner of your mouth with it.

You giggle. “You taste good.” You watch him step off the couch, searching for your clothes. He finds your underwear and bra, bringing it back over to you. When he realizes there’s nothing to clean you up with, he leans down and licks your cunt.

You shriek out. “Could say the same about how you taste.” He winks at you, handing you your clothes so you can get dressed. He goes to find his own and do the same. You hide your face in your hands.

“No way you’re shy, you just had my dick inside of you.” He rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt back on. Tone full of amusement and disbelief.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be vulgar.” You joke, strapping back into your leggings. The anxiety about Lexi and his band mates is hitting you now, but there’s no going back. “Thank you.”

He looks over, a wide grin on his face. Matty grabs your shoulders. “No, thank you. Best photoshoot of my career.” He walks over to the door, and you take long strides to catch up with him.

You smooth a hand over your hair and straighten out your clothes. It’s no use though, because when you open up the door and walk into the hall with Matty, they all know.

Lexi and the guys all stood there, knowing smiles on their faces. George even starts laughing when you both walk out. Adam’s head hung with his shoulders shaking, and Ross a smirk on his face.

“Think Matty got the all inclusive session, then?” George says, causing the rest of the group to burst out in laughter. You shrink in on yourself, looking over to see Matty’s grin. Lexi shoots you a look. A timid smile, but her eyes say ‘we’ll talk later.’

Matty giggles, humming. “Mhmm, don’t be jealous.” He shrugs looking between Lexi and you. “Contact us again for another shoot, then? We love your work, and would love to come back.” His eyes go to your face for the last bit, and you nod.

They all say their goodbyes, exchanging handshakes and stares. When they walk out, Matty catches your eye again through the window. Waving, and pulling out a cigarette.

…

Later, when you’re cleaning up the studio, you find a folded piece of paper under the front desk. A 10 digit phone number, a small heart and the words Matty scrawled under it.

[daryl-fucking-dixon]

theres no better way to break in a new blog then posting NSFW ABCs that absolutely nobody asked for

listen to be honest with y'all I have a crazy sex drive and if I'm in the apocalypse with DARYL DIXON, then um! you better believe I want dick 25/8 (AND BEST BELIEVE ILL GET IT)

im really doing this because its almost like I'm decluttering my brain

CREDITS CREDITS CREDITSS!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ☆- We all know Daryl would clean you up and comfort you after sex, he's not the type to fuck and dump.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ☆- I just feel like Daryl is a major tit guy. He loves them all. Small, big, saggy, he does not care. If it can fit in his hand and his mouth then there's not a single complaint.

☆- Daryl favors his arms, and he feels like a big strong man when you latch onto his bicep.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ☆- Like I said once, and will be saying for the rest of my life, Daryl Dixon would love to creampie you.

☆- Facials?? He wants to cum all over your face and then fuck you missionary so he can watch the way his release runs down in your mouth and on your cheeks.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ☆- Daryl Dixon's dirty little secret is that he keeps a pair of your underwear to jerk off with when he goes on long runs. (The longer you wore them for the absolute better)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ☆- Before the world ended Daryl didn't exactly have much sex, only a few hook-ups that happened in dark alleys when he was blasted on hard drugs.

☆- Season 1-4 Daryl would be completely lost. A total clutz when he's ripping your shirt off with trembling hands and very sloppily moving his lips against yours, eager yet needy.

☆- Season 5-11 Daryl wouldn't be as clueless after getting older, taking your shirt off first before pulling you closer by the waist, kissing you slowly and much more coordinated.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

☆- Cowgirl. Ride him to your hearts content. He loves loves loves being underneath you, moaning and whimpering as you bounce on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

☆- He's too gone in pleasure to be funny or sexy

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ☆- Daryl is definitely hairy, but not too crazy. He's got a dark happy trail leading into thick pubes that rest rest above his base.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

☆- It depends on how clingy Daryl is and how stimulated he is. He likes to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can mark the skin.

☆- Some nights are filled with pure lovemaking, Daryl panting needily against you as he moans in your ear.

"Love ya so fuckin' much, so glad yer mine"

"Prettiest girl I ever seen, wanna make ya feel good"

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

☆- On those nights when he goes on long runs, all by himself with nothing but the song of nature around him, his head fills with all the memories of the softness of your body, inside and out.

☆- He often finds himself holding the fabric of your underwear against his face, whimpering into them as he twist his wrist and tease his tip, thinking about how badly he wanted to be buried deep inside your warm heat.

☆- Once just isn't enough for him. He'll stroke himself completely empty to the thought of you. The sounds of his very needy moans and wet drag of his cum-coated hand overrode the sound of nature.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

☆- DARYL DIXON CERTIFIED BREEDING KINK.

☆- Daryl also has a choking kink that works both ways.

☆- He loves to grip your throat from behind and watch how your face contorts with every thrust, listening to your breathless and choked-off moans.

☆- He also loves to watch the way you bounce on his cock, steadying yourself with your hands tightly around his neck, riding him desperately for your own pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

☆- Everywhere. If he can put your back against it, he can fuck you against it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

☆- You. No matter what you do, just once long glance and Daryl goes weak in his knees, biting his lips as his cock stirs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

☆- Don't clown me but threesome. Daryl Dixon does not like to share his woman, friend or foe. He wants no other man to lay his hands, eyes, or dick on you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

☆- We all know that Daryl loves to eat pussy. Not matter how long or how many times he's done it, he will not get tired of the taste of you on his tongue and lingering in his mouth afterwards.

☆- He also loves getting head from you. The way you swirl your tongue around his tip and suck it drives his eyes into the back of his skull, a deep groan coming from his chest. Daryl is honestly an oral lover.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

☆- A pretty good combination of both. Depending on the mood, the night starts sensually with lots of eager kisses and roaming hands, Daryl's hips sloppily and lazily thrusting into you at first.

☆- When eager kisses become slow and deep, that's when lazy thrusts become quick and controlled, his cock sliding deeper into your velvety walls. Sometimes Daryl gets so wrapped up in how good he feels, he can't help how fast his hips start to snap against you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

☆- Only if it's absolutely safe. The first quickie you two ever had was horrifically cut short by a random walker almost biting the bare flesh of Daryl's neck, mid-orgasm at that!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

☆- He'd be iffy about a few things depending on what they are. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in bed, but he also never wants to deny you of what you want. (I have no fucking clue what this letter means guys)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

☆- On the nights where Daryl just needs to not think, he can go for as many rounds as his body can physically handle. He can last for a while during the first round, but it's after the second and third when he starts to struggle. He needily fucks the both of you completely stupid, only being done when a harsh dry orgasm rocks his entire world, gasping and sobbing against you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

☆- When Daryl finds your vibrator hidden behind your pillow, he gets a little curious and tries it on himself, sitting on the bed and taking his cock out, stroking himself a few times before clicking the button, feeling the toy buzz to life.

☆- He bites his lip rough when he presses it to his tip, a loud, choked whimper ripping from his throat.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

☆- Daryl only teases you when you tease him. The way you not so innocently bat your lashes at him and firmly grip his bicep gets him riled up for the day and gets you in a world of trouble for the night.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

☆- Daryl is typically a quiet guy, but he can get pretty loud in bed. A lot of the times he muffles any moans or whimpers into the soft skin of your shoulder.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

☆- Talked about this with one of my mutuals but I think Daryl would be a little bit into knifeplay. Nothing major, he just finds it really hot your life is quite literally in his hands.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

☆- Daryl definitely has a curved dick. It's a good solid eight inches and he's pretty thick. Circumcised as well.

☆- There's a long vein that runs along the underside, and a few more that become more prominent when he's hard.

☆- His tip is a cherry red and quite sensitive due to nerve damage. (from said circumcise)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

☆- Daryl used to barely think about sex, especially in the apocalypse. He'd still jerk off every so often, but not really that often. Only when he had nothing else to do, or really needed to stop thinking, which meant he was gonna jerk off for quite a while.

☆- His sex drive went through the roof after he met you, he simply couldn't get enough. It had only taken a few times before he was completely addicted to your body, and craved it each time he was away. he jerks off much more and much longer now

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

☆- It depends how many times he came. Sometimes he'll literally pass out right on top of you, still inside you.

☆- Most nights however he usually has enough strength to clean you up, and crawl into bed next to you, pulling you closer to his sturdy chest with his arms securely wrapped around you.

[her-stargirl]

Unknown Dances

Mizu x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Mizu has culture shock while also having to attempt to fit in, however she ends up making a friend at a noble ball.

authors note: I literally researched about 17th century court dancing for this guys (I already knew a little from my intro to dance class but not nearly enough)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cultural differences between Japan and London were so striking to Mizu that it took her two days to to understand a small bit of it. From what she had heard a ball of noblemen was being held and she thought that would be just the place she could find her next target.

She used Fowler as her way in since she assumed he was probably quite well respected among white people.

Mizu scanned over the party, she felt, strange wearing such an odd English outfit however to stay discreet she needed to look the part.

There's a band in the corner about to start a new song and the way people are locking eyes it feels as though they all know what song will be next. They begin finding partners and Mizu feels a tap on her shoulder.

A girl with her hair tied back into a beautiful updo, wearing a yellow ballgown is standing there. "I'm sorry I couldn't help but notice you look lost..have you never seen this dance before?" The girl seems nice. "Here follow me I'll help you," she gently takes Mizu by the hand and pulls her over to the two lines already forming. One of women and one of men.

Mizu was dropped off in the middle of the line of men, she didn't like this, she needed to get back on track. She had no idea was she was doing and-

The music starts.

She looks down at the feet of the man in front of her and follows as the man circles in front of his parter and back to his spot, then waits as her partner, the unnamed girl in the yellow dress, circles around her. One arm holding out her skirt, the other close to her chest.

This is all to stressful, she looks at the girl with a worried expression, however the gaze is not reciprocated because the girl is having the time of her life, smiling, laughing.

Mizu thinks the girl might laugh herself to death however the music stops and the girl turns to Mizu, "That was fun wasn't it?" Mizu is bright red with embarrassment? anxiety? she didn't quite know.

"Ah, you look ill come with me," the girl tries to grab Mizu's hand again. "No! I don't know you and yet you keep dragging me around, I demand at least a name!"

The girl looked surprised for a minute, a look of 'oh! a foreigner maybe that's why they were so confused!' but she soon snapped out of it "Goodness I'm sorry, my name is y/n..I'm also sorry for dragging you into something you don't know well people usually catch on quicker than you did."

Mizu felt her body destress a bit however she kept her gaze sharp, "Its..a pleasure to meet you y/n.." Mizu said, still quite unsure.

"Likewise" y/n says smiling patiently.

"Well y/n if you'll excuse me I have some um..important business to attend to," Mizu turns to walk away, face still red from embarrassment.

"Alright..um..I'll see you later then," y/n says in a somewhat upset voice, she hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they see each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mizu's plan was beginning to prove unsuccessful, everyone she had talked to had little to no info. She found herself back in the large ballroom.

She stared out at the crowd of people, and there she was, the girl in the yellow dress. Still dancing, still smiling. Mizu was envious.

She felt, compelled to that girl, as if she was out loud saying 'Mizu, come over here and dance! you're wound so tight!'

Before Mizu even thought about it she was already out on the floor taking y/n's hand, "May I dance with you?" she asks in a calm yet alluring voice.

Y/n just smiles politely and nods, taking Mizu's hand and swaying softly, "I'm sorry for coming off so," y/n pauses trying to find the right word, "strongly earlier" She gives Mizu an awkward gaze.

"I'm just not used to people taking a strong liking so fast," Mizu says, attempting to hold eye contact however she's fairly bad at it because she's focused on how her feet are moving.

The song comes to an end and people disperse, this time Mizu is the one to pull y/n. The two walk down the hall to a quieter spot. Mizu was acting so fast she didn't quite know what she was even doing she-

"I'm sorry I don't know why I pulled you off to the side, you can go back if you'd like," the words come out however she doesn't want them to.

"No its ok, I'll stay here," y/n says, "I need a minute away from the action" she lets out a soft chuckle.

Its quiet for only a minute but feels like forever before the silence is broken, "I'm going to be painfully honest I was drawn to you because of your eyes...not because you looked lost," y/n says "they're just so unique and such a beautiful color."

Mizu felt her cheeks flush hot and fast, "thank you...? wait um, you're welcome? no that's not right eith-" y/n cuts Mizu off with a loud, joy filled laugh. "I know what you meant don't worry."

Mizu inhales sharply, "That color..yellow, it's beautiful on you" Mizu rushes the words out, she's never felt like this.

"Thank you," y/n says with a polite and delicate smile.

Another song is beginning back in the main ballroom, "This is my favorite!! lets go!" y/n says looping her arm around Mizu's. Once again dragging her off to dance.