#i would so anything that man wanted me to

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Diasomnia

Go here for other dorms

Malleus Draconia

When you hand Malleus the box of chocolates, he takes it carefully, his touch delicate, reverent. His emerald eyes flicker between you and the gift, his expression curious.

“…What is the occasion?” he asks, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You blink. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

His brow furrows in thought. “Ah… I have read about this custom. A day where humans exchange tokens of affection.” His gaze settles back on you, warm and searching. “And you are giving this to me?”

You inhale, steadying yourself before you say it—before you make it real.

“Yes,” you say, voice firm but soft. “Because I like you, Malleus.”

For a moment, he just looks at you.

And then—he lights up.

Not just in surprise, not just in happiness, but in something deeper, something radiant. His pupils dilate, his lips parting slightly as he processes the words, and then—his entire expression softens into something breathtaking.

“You…” He exhales, almost in wonder, as if he is memorizing this moment, etching it into eternity.

His grip on the chocolates tightens just slightly, like he’s holding something precious.

“…Then I must thank you,” he says at last, his voice so tender it nearly steals your breath. “For this gift. And for your feelings.”

He steps closer, his presence impossibly warm despite the cool night air. “Because I return them.”

Your heart stumbles. “You do?”

Malleus smiles, and it is gentle, certain—undeniably his.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “And if you will allow it… I would like to be your partner.”

The word settles over you like it belongs there—like it has always belonged there.

And how could you say anything but yes?

“I’d love that,” you whisper.

His smile deepens, something ancient and endless and full of warmth. Without hesitation, he takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with a quiet certainty.

As you begin to walk together—his grip steady, unwavering, real—it feels so easy, so natural.

Like this was always meant to be.

Lilia Vanrouge

When you walk up to Lilia, he’s already watching you with knowing amusement, arms crossed, eyes twinkling like he’s been expecting this all along.

“Ah, I see, I see~” he hums, grinning before you even say a word. “Here comes my beastie with something important to say.”

Your steps slow. You narrow your eyes. “You already know?”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, I had my suspicions. But don’t let that stop you. Go on, I’ll pretend to be surprised.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping now. You take a breath and hold out the chocolates. “These are for you, Lilia. Because I like you.”

For a second, Lilia softens. It’s quick—a flicker of something warm and genuine—before he’s grinning again, sharp and playful.

“And here I thought you’d never confess!” He places a dramatic hand over his chest. “Making an old man wait for so long… how cruel!”

You snort. “Lilia, please. You don’t even look a day over twenty.”

He winks. “Why, thank you. I do try.”

You shake your head, exasperated but fond. “So? What do you say?”

Lilia’s grin softens just slightly. “Well, I say you’ve made a very bold choice, my dear.” He takes the chocolates, cradling them like a prized treasure. “And I accept, of course.”

Your stomach flutters.

Then—Lilia claps his hands together. “Well! We must celebrate! How about a homemade meal, cooked just for you?”

Your entire soul leaves your body.

“Lilia, wait—” You hold up both hands, alarmed. “We can save that for another day.”

He blinks, tilting his head innocently. “Oh? You don’t want to try my cooking?”

You scramble to save yourself. “No! I mean—yes! Just—not today! I want to, uh… savor the moment. Yeah.”

Lilia watches you far too knowingly, but after a beat, he laughs. “Fair enough! You drive a hard bargain, my dear.”

Then—with all the ease in the world—he reaches out, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to your fingers.

“Well then,” he muses, looking up at you with mischief and something warmer. “Shall we go on our date?”

Your face burns. “Y-Yeah. Let’s go.”

And as he pulls you along, chuckling to himself, you can’t help but think—

You’re in for quite the adventure.

Silver

Silver is fast asleep under a tree, looking so peaceful that you almost feel guilty waking him.

Almost.

Because one, you’re here to confess, and two… is that a squirrel braiding his hair?

You pause. Stare. The squirrel, completely unbothered, continues its work, its tiny paws weaving strands of silver like it’s done this a thousand times before.

…Never mind.

Shaking off your distraction, you step closer and crouch beside him. “Silver,” you call softly.

He stirs, blinking slowly as he wakes. And then he sees you.

His lips curl into a small, sleepy smile. “Oh,” he murmurs, voice still soft with drowsiness. “It’s you.”

Your stomach does a very unnecessary flip.

You exhale, steeling yourself. “I made these for you,” you say, holding out the chocolates. “Because it’s Valentine’s. And because I like you.”

Silver blinks. Once. Twice. His eyes focus a little sharper as he processes your words. Then, slowly, he pushes himself upright, his gaze never leaving yours.

“…You like me?” he asks, his tone gentle, careful.

You nod, heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah. I do.”

For a moment, he just looks at you.

Then—softly, warmly—he smiles.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice so sincere it makes your heart ache. “I… like you too.”

Before you can even react, he reaches for your hand, lifting it carefully. His fingers are steady, warm, reverent as he brings it to his lips—and presses the softest kiss against your knuckles.

The gesture is so simple, so sweet, so utterly Silver. There’s no teasing, no dramatics—just quiet, unwavering affection.

When he pulls back, his thumb lingers just slightly over your fingers. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” he asks, his expression soft.

Your chest feels too full. You nod, smiling. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

He stands, still holding your hand, his grip secure and warm.

The squirrel, now done with its masterpiece, chatters approvingly before scurrying off.

Neither of you even acknowledge it. Because right now—nothing else matters.

Sebek is not prepared.

Not for the chocolates. Not for your confession. Not for any of it.

One second, he’s standing tall, proud as ever, probably ready to launch into a speech about how he has no time for frivolous human customs.

And the next?

The usual loud, booming Sebek disappears.

Gone. Vanished. Launched into the stratosphere.

All that remains is a wide-eyed, speechless mess, his mouth opening and closing with nothing but a choked squeak escaping.

You wait, patiently.

Still, nothing.

“…Sebek?” you ask, biting back a smile.

He suddenly snaps upright, as if forcibly rebooting. “I—I—” His voice cracks spectacularly, and his face erupts into color, bright red from the tips of his ears down to his neck.

And then, as if his body is moving before his brain can keep up, he takes your hand in both of his own, bows his head, and presses the most reverent, careful kiss to the back of it.

Your breath catches.

When he looks back up, his usual intensity is still there—but this time, it’s softer. Warmer.

“I—I accept!” he declares, his grip strong, steady, firm. “I—I—I have long admired you as well! I—” He swallows hard, visibly overwhelmed. “I like you, too.”

Your heart melts.

Still smiling, you squeeze his hands lightly. “Then, will you be my boyfriend?”

Sebek freezes again.

His entire body tenses. His pupils dilate. You watch in real-time as his soul leaves his body, fights its way back, and then leaves again.

“I—” he tries, voice cracking once more. He clears his throat so aggressively that you’re almost worried for him.

Then, finally, finally, he nods, jerky but determined.

“Yes!” he exclaims, as if accepting the most sacred of oaths. “Yes, of course! I shall devote myself to you with all the strength and loyalty I possess!”

You can’t help it. You laugh.

Sebek, red-faced and flustered beyond belief, holds your hand even tighter, as if making sure you don’t disappear.

And honestly? You wouldn’t dream of it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[rafesangelita]

♡ “i think i’m a little bit, little bit, a little bit in love with you.”— your ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement with rafe comes to an ultimate end when he suddenly says the ‘L’ word while he’s inside of you..

warnings: fwb!rafe, f2l, unprotected sex, praise, slight angst, confessions, mutual pining, fluff, soft aftercare

a/n: now presenting… ‘BE MINE?’ 🤍 me and ‘little bit’ by lykke li will always be locked in!!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

ignorance truly was bliss.

here you were, ignoring the way your heart fluttered and ached at the sight of the man who was currently fucking you into oblivion. of course, rafe wasn’t just any man— no, he was your best friend. while you two were terrified of messing up your friendship with a label other than ‘just friends’, it didn’t stop neither of you from falling for each other, both of you resorting to sex with a bullshit ‘no strings attached’ rule that you two obviously didn’t follow. if spending your nights tangled up in each other’s sheets was the only way to be together non-platonically, then so be it.

rafe had his thumb inbetween your lips, your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist as he slammed into you at an unforgiving pace. you don’t know how long you two have been going at it, or how many orgasms you’ve had, but the only way you could describe how you felt right now was stupid. unable to form a single thought, you sucked on rafe’s digit while he lost himself, his head rolling to the side as your walls sucked him in. “h-holy shit!” his hips stuttered, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt the hot spurts of rafe’s cum paint your insides.

rafe felt the shocks of his orgasm ripple through his body, his body collapsing on top of your own as he writhed in pure unadulterated pleasure. “i.. shit— i fucking love you.” he panted, cradling your head before leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive flesh of your neck. you sucked in a breath, his words hitting you right where it hurt. blinking rapidly, you heard your heart beating in your ears as your mind began racing a million miles per minute.

did he really mean that?

was he just talking about the sex?

what if he just said it on accident?

you couldn’t focus on anything else. it wasn’t until rafe rolled over, his lips trailing across your chest before he saw the conflicted look on your face. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you wanted to scoff but settled for a slight shake of your head instead. “you just said you loved me.” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he swallowed thickly, both of you looking at each other with a knowing look in your eyes.

“i know.”

rafe watched as you sat up, crossing your arms over your chest. “you can’t just say that casually, rafe..” you muttered, suddenly feeling exposed despite being naked in front of him a countless amount of times. rafe moved closer, his hand trailing underneath the plush comforter. rubbing circles into the soft flesh of your thigh, rafe sighed before flashing you a soft smile. “there’s nothing casual about what i said,” he started, “it might’ve came out at a questionable time but i meant it.” rafe met your gaze under the dim lighting of his room, the intensity in his stare making goosebumps spread across your skin.

you stayed silent, pondering his words and the weight they carried. of course you felt the same, there was no doubt about that, but to say that you weren’t scared of what this meant would be a lie. you two were entering a new kind of territory. this wasn’t just ‘friendly’ sleepovers anymore, it was more complicated than that. you had sworn off any man that wasn’t rafe, your best friend consuming every fiber of your being. little did you know, rafe had been exclusive with you since he realized he couldn’t stand to not be near you. he needed to see you, talk to you, touch you everyday.

you had undoubtedly made a home for yourself in his brain and his heart, and he had no intentions of ever kicking you out. “do you really?” you couldn’t help but ask, your fingertips finding his under the covers. rafe studied your face, engraving your features into his mind as he thought about what to say next. “i’m gonna tell you something..” he pulled you close, caging you between his arms as he traced the soft curve of your lips, “i can’t pinpoint exactly when i started feeling this way, apart of me thinks i always have, you just made it easier for me to realize it.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke.

“everyone on this island has their own idea of me, but you? you know me for who i really am. i’ve never had to put on a show, i’ve never had to fear judgement from you. you just get me, you know?” you felt so warm and fuzzy inside, you couldn’t help but bury your face in his chest. “i love you too, rafe.” he felt like he could breathe when that sentence finally sounded from your mouth, his shoulders relaxing as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “yeah?” he pulled away to cup your face as you nodded. “yeah, i just— i didn’t know how to go about something like this.”

rafe hummed in agreement, both of you looking at each other momentarily before leaning in for a kiss. once your lips touched, you felt relief wash over you; months of pent up tension leaving your body. rafe couldn’t believe that everything was out in the open now. “well, our anniversary date is impossible to forget since it’s on valentine’s day.” your heart fluttered in your chest at the proposition. “anniversary date?” you repeated. “yeah.. you didn’t think we’d be single after this, did you?” you giggled against his lips, welcoming him between your thighs again.

“no, i suppose not.”

[kissforyouu]

i love you — a compilation !

warnings : suggestive content + explicit language + mention of substances

authors note : i had so much fun writing the Roblox part lmfao (from personal experience unfortunately😅😅) I hope y’all enjoy the rest of the fic :)) HAPPY V DAY MY LOVES!!!! ❤️❤️

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ giving him a note saying “don’t smile if you want toe curling sucky sucky tonight”

You excitedly giggle over the folded piece of paper held in between your fingers, thinking to yourself of what your boyfriends reaction would be.

You saw people on TikTok do this trend, and here you thought, yeah why not try this on Jungkook. You were gonna give him sucky sucky anyways^^

“Get back in bed…”, Jungkook groans from his room, patting your side of his bed. Your back is turned to him and bent over as you write the little text on the paper. “Nevermind, stay there bent over and you’re getting instant backshots, okay?” He laughs.

You snort, turning around now. You don’t say anything, stay fully silent, but walk towards him.

“Mmf, finally.” Your boyfriend sighs in pleasure from just having you close to him. He blinks rapidly, breathing heavily. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t geeking a little right now, having already smoked some weed earlier. So he was a little a high, perfect setting for the little bomb you’re gonna drop on him.

You don’t speak, but hand over the neatly folded piece of paper to him. Jungkook looks at you confused, eyebrow raising a little. He adjusts himself on the bed, sitting up to read it. You try holding in your laugh.

Jungkook, high, tries to read the text on the paper. He giggles, reading out loud, “If…you want…toe curling?” He looks at you with a smirk “—sucky sucky? …tonight, don’t…smile…”

He smiles, what I had written not registering in his head yet. He takes a few seconds to process it, and suddenly, his big giddy smile drops. Jungkook’s entire body turns stiff and he straightens himself. He clearly his throat, eyes landing somewhere else in the room.

He sucks in his cheeks, attempting to make a serious face.

“My love, you look like handsome squidward when you do that”, you giggle, holding his face by both of your hands.

Jungkook cracks out a laugh, immediately breaking his composure. It wasn’t even that funny, but he’d always find everything funny when he’s high. He giggles his way through, crumbling the piece of paper in his hand.

“Be for real, that was not funny”, you laugh at the geeked out man in front of you. “You lost the game though. You’re laughing.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stiffens his posture and clears his voice. He’s back to acting serious again, which made you slap his face jokingly.

“You’ve lost already!” But he shakes his head in deny. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh U”— you shut him up with a kiss.

“I’ll still give you sucky sucky because you’re my good boy, okay?” You palm his hard on through his boxers.

“Hey, I’m the dominant here!”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ JK getting mad at his girlfriend whenever she buys things with her own money.

“I missed your cute ass room.” He said with a beaming smile on his face.

“You were here last week, idiot.” You slap the back of his head.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“I miss you even when you’re with me, I miss you always, you know that.”

“Corny.” You laugh at him.

“I know you like that shit.” Jungkook pokes your waist, then a small kiss on your shoulder.

He examines your room as if he’s never been there. But then, pauses.

“Where’d you get this from?,” he walks over to your newly bought expensive white fur caught hanging in your closet.

Jungkook had almost each and every single clothing piece of yours memorised. Mainly because he’s bought almost all of them for you. But this one, certainly, he did not buy.

“Uhh, the store…” you bite your lip.

“What store?”

“Heh.” You knew where he was as going with this.

“Heh? Yeah? What store?” He questions again.

“‘Kay, I’m sorry.” You frown.

“I hate when you don’t use my card. I’ve given you my BLACK card, Y/n. You really can buy anything, big or small. Don’t piss me off.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he leans against your wall, staring at you with a big mean glare. You felt like a child being scolded for taking candy.

“I’ve told you about this already—“

“And I’ve told you about this already too.” He cuts you off. “My card is yours, your card is yours, okay?” He examines my face for expressions of defeat, acceptance. But finds none.

“I don’t want to spend your family’s hard earned money. And yours. It just doesn’t feel right. Plus, what am I going to spend my own money on?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your question, probably finding it utterly stupid and insane. Who wouldn’t accept free money? You, you wouldn’t.

“Don’t give a fuck. Use my card from now on or I’ll get your card disabled.” He shrugs it off and walks out of your room.

What! WHAT!

“What do you mean you’ll disable my card?!”, you shout, “Jungkook!! Stop!! What the fuck!!” You scream.

꩜ .ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ Secretly recording Jungkook who loves to get baby talked

You scroll on your phone absentmindly (lies), while secretly keeping an eye on your boyfriend. His head rests between your thighs, laying there comfortably as he enjoyed whatever anime on the tv.

You think of how you’re going to secretly set up your phone and record him. Hm. Biting your lip, concentrated, you hide the phone behind your pillow and made sure that the camera would be peaking out.

Okay, perfect.

You start by slowly caressing his hair, running your fingers down his locks and massaging his scalp. You made sure to scratch his scalp with your new set of nails, which he paid for. You know he likes that. Like, a lot.

Jungkook moans, his head’s weight fully dropped down to your thigh. You hum back, hands now moving from his scalp to his face. You trace his cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, his lips—you even teasingly put a finger in.

Sometimes, you remember he’s your boyfriend and that you could touch him however you wanted and that makes you the happiest girl in the world.

You go on to trace his eyes, his eyelashes then ears. Jungkook hums in relaxation, giving his full body control to you. He looooves when you did this. You go on to pull on his cheeks a couple times, and then ;

“Come up.” You tap his head with the tip of your nail.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything back, but raises himself up from the position below and turns around to lay in between your arms.

Let the fun begin, heh.

“I love you.” You tell him, with a wet kiss on his cheek.

He flashes his boyish smile at you, eyes fully locked on yours as he traced your lips, “I love you more, baby.”

“But you’re my baby.” You soften your voice a little bit, squeezing his nose teasingly. “No, you are.” He argues back. “No, wrong, you’re my baby.” Jungkook cracks a smile again, a small giggle escaping his lips, “Fine. I am.” He finally surrenders.

You squeal, beginning to place kisses all over his sweet face. Lips, nose, cheeks—everywhere. You shut his eyes, just so you could kiss his eyelids.

“I love you so much, my little baby.”

Jungkook groans into your neck, overwhelmed with all the affection as his cheeks took a sudden colour to red.

“Awh, you’re blushing! Who’s making you blush, hm?” You squeeze his cheeks really hard. I know that hurts.

“Ywu.” He manages to say one word.

“What’s my name?”

“Y/n—mmph”

“No. That’s not my name.”

“Mwomwy.”

Wait, LMAO— you weren’t expecting him to call you that right away. You thought it would have to take a lot of convincing, I guess not.

You kiss his glossy lips as a reward, finally letting go of his cheeks. You suffocate the man from hugging him really really tight, chest pressed right to his face. I don’t think he’s having a bad time though. His face was right on your boobs, fully dived in.

“Baby, you’re making me feel less of a man”, he says on a serious note, hands travelling down to rest on top of your booty shorts.

“It’s okay, nobody’s gonna know anyway. They don’t have to know that you’re my babyboy.”

“Stop.” He groans, arms how fully around your waist as he avoids eye contact. He’s shy.

“My baby star candy.” You kiss his hair again. “Look up to me, baby.” You tap his face, raising his chin up. Jungkook hums, making eye contact with you now.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy?”

You are trying so hard not to laugh. It’s so hard. Fuck. You stiffen your face, take in a big gulp and stay still. Jungkook looks at you weird, almost like he’s going to call you weird, but then, he just lets out a big massive gigantic groan and says—

“Uugghhh, me.”

You could see the visible disgust in his face, but also you could tell that he kind of liked it. LMAO. You can’t hold it in anymore, so you burst out laughing. You laugh so much you have to hold your stomach in.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Maybe—HEY WHAT THE FUCK!”

The idiot finally spots the camera hiding behind the pillow, screaming as he jumps off your body. You can’t stop laughing. You’re still laughing. Holy shit. You hold your stomach tighter, trying to breath.

“Haa—haaa, fuck, I can’t breath, AHAHAHAHA”

Jungkook screams too, grabbing the phone. He clears his voice before speaking.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n? What the fuck?” He stops the recording and throws the phone away. “Not funny.”

You’re still laughing, eyes closed tight with a big smile on your face. Jungkook thinks you look the prettiest like this.

“Never do that ever again. You are also not posting that anywhere.” He says with a stern voice.

“Okay, but you were into it, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“…maybe.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 “you’re spinning me around, my feet are off the ground!^^”

You shiver because of the extreme weather (it’s just snowing), hands tightly wrapped around yourself as you squeeze yourself into your boyfriend’s body.

“It’s cold.” You’re shivering.

You tug onto your skirt—yes, skirt in the damn cold—and pull it down to cover your thighs as if it’s going to do anything.

“No shit”, your boyfriend laughs, warm hands rubbing your waist under your shirt. But his hands leave you for a brief moment and sneaks under your skirt and hooks his fingers onto your underwear right on your asscheeks and pulls the stretchy material down. You shriek, hitting his stomach as a reaction.

“This barely covers your ass. Why are you wearing a shortass-barely-a-skirt-skirt in winter? You dumbfuck.” He flicks your forehead.

“It’s for the fashion, Jungkook. At least I look good.” You huff.

“Yeah, sure, you look good but you’re freezing your ass off in this snow. I even feel bad to throw snowballs at you because you’re shivering already.” He squeezes the back of your thighs that were cold as fuck, like meat put in the freezer.

“Let’s do the thing now! The video!” You remind Jungkook, hitting on his chest as a signal.

He nods his head with a groan, placing your phone on the car so that it stands up right.

“What do I do again?” He looks at you with a slightly nervous lip bite.

“Follow the lyrics and then pick me up when it says my feet are off the ground, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You giggle and press the little red button—record—so that the video would start playing.

“ you’re spinning me around ”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you to him by your waist so that your body would smash against his. He grabs your other hand, intertwining it with his and his other hand on your hip, yours on his shoulder, he dances with you, spinning you around along with him.

“ my feet are off the ground ”

With a laugh, his face fully scrunched up, the beautiful man whom you’re in love with hooks his strong arms under your thighs and lifts you up, completely effortlessly. You squeak, feet wiggling and hanging while your upper body clinged to his. You smile at the camera, face heating up fully.

“ I don’t know where I stand

do you have to hold my hand ? ”

He puts you down quickly, hand patting the top of your ass as a way of saying “good job”. You stand next to him with a big smile as the lyric plays. Then he holds your hand really tightly, swinging it back and forth to great lengths.

“ you mystify me

you mystify me

you mystify me ”

As the lyric switches, he pulls you in again and kisses you, hard. Lips smacking against eachother, he pulls you into a deep kiss full of love and passion. At the second mystify me, Jungkook bends you back by your back, deepening the kiss. He put his hand on his cheek, thumb on your jaw as he lifts his face up to kiss you even deeper. By the last mystify me, Jungkook pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your lips together still.

Your cheeks were flushed red, quite literally, and so were his. His lips were glossy and his eyes twinkled like stars. There was a big cheesy smile on your face, you felt like a child who’s just had her first kiss ever. You love him so much.

You shyly take steps forward to stop recording the video on his phone. Jungkook looks at you, proud, because he’s just made his girl shy again.

“Shy? What? Like you weren’t sucking my balls off last night?”

Why does he have to ruin everything.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ calling him “daddy” as a prank (right in front of your dad)

It took a while for Jungkook to earn your father’s trust. He had to work for it. Bring you home on time, show up and talk to him, engage with the rest of your family—he had to learn to express his love for you really loud in front of your family. Once he fully gained your father’s trust, he was automatically invited to every event your family hosted.

And, that’s no different from right now. Your family was hosting a barbecue. A lot of your family was there, your cousins, uncles and aunts, almost everyone. It was always fun to spend moments together as family. Jungkook was practically family at this point :).

; Which was perfect! For your prank! Of course!

As of now, you were waiting for your boyfriend and dad to end up in the same place.

You were in your kitchen, snacking on some strawberries while being a little bent over on the kitchen isle. Without getting noticed, your boyfriend slithers behind you and creeps his dirty hands up your dress to squeeze your ass cheeks hard. What the fuck! You scream!

“Ack! Jungkook, you scared me!” You whine.

He snickers, places kissing on your shoulder blade while his hands made their way around your waist. “Mmhhhm,” he inhales in the scent of your perfume, letting his full body weight fall onto yours. You ruffle his hair and feed him a strawberry. Jungkook watches the way the juice of the fruit falls onto your neck, so he just lols his tongue out to lick it off, with a smirk of course.

“No, they’ll see.” You warn him.

“Mhm, no.” He murmurs into your neck. His voice was almost inaudible, just audible enough for you to hear it. It was so small and breathy, so needy.

Jungkook breaths into your neck, still kissing you there, leaving light wet pecks on your flesh. “You’re going to get us caught, mh, Jungkook.”

He shakes away your thoughts, fingertips moving lower and lifting up your dress. He taps your clothed clit with the back of his fingers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“No, not in public,” you place your hand on top of his, but don’t move it, and let him do whatever. Jungkook chuckles at your submission, which he expected, of course. But just as he was about to put his hand inside, your little sister screams as she runs into the kitchen.

You both flinch, terrified, screaming! Jungkook withdraws his hand back, covering his actions by just coughing really loud as if he was trying to scratch his throat.

“I want strawberries!” She shouts.

“Yeah, baby? Okay, wait.” You begin cutting up some strawberries for her. In the meantime, your father enters the room, suspiciously eyeing you and Jungkook.

“Daddy, sissy is cutting me strawberries.”

Your dad nods in approval, lifting up your sister and placing her on the kitchen isle.

Now, you never used the nickname “daddy” as much in the bedroom. But whenever you did, Jungkook would be obsessed. He’d beg you to call him that again frequently, but you never did, often finding it ‘cringe’ and ‘weird’. Therefore, you weren’t quite sure whether he would follow the command or not. But heh, worth the try.

“Daddy, can you grab me a bowl?”

In instinct, your father turns around to grab a bowl from the cupboards. But another thing catches his attention, it’s how Jungkook’s reaching for the exact same bowl he was reaching for. They both pause in the moment, looking at eachother’s faces with absolute horror plastered across theirs.

“What the fuck—” your dad exclaims before your sister cuts him off, “—daddy, bad word!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He apologises to your sister, swatting Jungkook’s hand away as he grabs the bowl and places it in front of you.

He’s glaring at the two of you as of now. Jungkook is left flustered, and startled, and sort of angry in a way because he knew you planned this. He darts his eyes at you very sharply.

You give him a small smile. Jungkook tries to escape the situation by walking away, but—

“Jungkook, stay.”

Oh fuck.

Your dad was always a strict man. He wasn’t a crazy type strict, but still very much protective over his daughters.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you just knew you were going to receive a good scolding from Jungkook later.

Your sister finally walks away, munching on her sweet strawberries. Your father, however, taps his fingers on the table, looking between both of you. You’re both silent, like 2 children having caught doing something really sneaky.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear and witness that.” He darts his eyes at Jungkook.

“Secondly, I hope you are using protection.”

Then he just leaves.

Fuck, you are so embarrassed. You look at Jungkook with a small smile, while he gives you a death glare.

The thing is, dad, we are not using protection either. #rawnextquestion.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 ༘⋆ ִ ₊⊹ dream blunt rotation

You sigh, watching your boyfriend roll another blunt. You observe each and every one of his moments carefully. The way he rolls his filter paper, the way he licks the end of the paper to seal it all together. He did it so precisely. He always did. Your boyfriend was, like, the master blunt roller. You in the other hand could never master it. He always rolled your blunts for you.

Jungkook taps the almost completely rolled blunt on the table about 10 times so that all the weed would be inside the rolled paper, then fills it to the top with a bit more weed.

“Hm.” He hands the blunt over to you, “you want me to roll more, baby?”

You shake your head, “this is enough.”

You light up the blunt with—heh, your super cute hello kitty lighter which, by the way, Jungkook decorated for you. Yeah, he bought all the little charms and decorated the lighter for you. You’re in love with this man.

You light the end of the blunt, and put the other side in your mouth to take a small inhale. You exhale the air out, snuggling into your boyfriend’s couch. You were staying over at his place, no way in hell would you smoke at yours. Only in your room, that too if your parents weren’t home. Jungkook’s parents didn’t care. They knew he did all sorts of things. They didn’t really care as long as he did his academics well, which he did.

Jungkook takes an inhale out of his joint, head thrown back as he sighs, eyes closed. Suddenly, he starts giggling.

“What?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“I love you so much. I get emotional when I’m smoking, I don’t fucking know why, but I love you, you know that.” His cheeks take a shade of light pink.

You’re cheeeeeeezzzziiinnnnggggg. There’s a small giggle out of you, and you scoot closer to kiss his cheek and drag a smoke out of your joint as well.

“I love you more, you know that too. And you’re forever going to be my blunt roller slash plug.” You laugh.

“Jesus, I should start making you pay.”

“That’s so odd for you to say.”

Jungkook laughs, agreeing.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, taking an inhale.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” You ask, taking another hint.

“Dream what?” Jungkook laughs, finding the question absolutely ridiculous.

“Like, if you could share your shit with anyone, who? Like, a group of people, mhm?”

He laughs again and grabs your hand that was placed on your thigh and kisses the back of it, “you. Why would I wanna be smoking with anyone else besides you?”

“You smoke with your friends.”

“Well, yeah”—he groans, “but like, you’re my dream, you know? You’re my…dream blunt rotation? Whatever you call it.” He declares his love for you again in rather a more romantic way.

“I’m your dream?,” you giggle, lashes batting. Now it’s your turn to kiss the back of his hand. You stare at your boyfriends big doe eyes as he hummed in response. You take another hit of the joint, keeping the smoke still in your mouth, and pull him into your body. You kiss Jungkook with passion, your saliva mingling together as the smoke transfers down to his mouth. Your boyfriend groans and breaks the kiss to inhale and exhale the smoke.

Both of you were starting to sweat despite the A/C, and the weed was starting to take a toll on you as well. You take another inhale, eyes batting to shut down. “Oh my god,” you moan, head falling against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” He asks back.

“Well,” you begin, “Robert Pattinson, Lee Jong-suk, Woo Do-Hwah—”

“Actually shut the fuck up.” Jungkook shuts you up with a harsh slap to your thigh, making you wince, followed by a giggle.

“‘Kay, sorry. They’re hot though.”

“What about me?” There’s a big fat pout on his face.

“You’re hotter, you’re my husband.” You give him a big fat smile, and a big fat wet kiss on his forehead.

“I think I’m hard.”

And you look down and see a big fat monster tent staring right back at you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Roblox with your boyfriend / headcannons

Jungkook never played Roblox until you forced him to do so. He first laughed at you and called you childish for still playing Roblox, fast forward sometimes he begs you to play it with him.

You got into Roblox through your little sister Evie of course. She’d always ask you to play dress to impress with her, and who are you to say no? That’s when you felt like dragging Jungkook into this.

He would always supply you an endless amount of robux. You and Evie, of course. His account however would only have like 5 robux left, whilst yours was like 10k all the time. You had access to his Roblox account, so you’d randomly log into his account and change his avatar a bit here and there.

He also only had two friends on Roblox, that would be you and Evie. For some reason, he had a bunch of followers on Roblox. He always wondered why, since he never even played like that. You had about 200 friends on roblox though. And like a bunch of followers. LOL.

Moving onto the games you play, it ranges from cute girly games to horror games. Most of the time, it’s always dress to impress. Jungkook would always call it boring but also yell whenever he doesn’t place.

You’d play arsenal, mm2, doors, mocker, dead silence, hello kitty café, royale high—likewise.

Also, don’t tell anyone, but sometimes whenever you guys are hanging out, you’d ask him “hey, wanna have e sex?” and go on LifeTogether on Roblox and do it there for shits and giggles. You always found it funny, and he just did whatever would make his girlfriend happy. happy wife = happy life. Oh, and of course you have real sex after^^.

Everytime another headless gets deleted, Jungkook would just spend like 800 robux to buy you another. He’s so cute, you love him so much.

You and Jungkook would have cute matching Roblox fits. His would be all pink and cute, he didn’t care since it was Roblox. You guys would deffo get labelled as a “corny Roblox couple” LOL.

Jungkook’s favourite game though, as corny as it sounds, unfortunately, is dahood💔. You hate that game passionately from the bottom of your soul but he loves it. He logs in and starts fights with randos. Sometimes he would kill you and carry you around the place. He’s done some cute things though. Like once, he planted dahood flowers all over the place and wrote ‘I love you’ on the wall using dahood graffiti.

outfit inspo 4 u guys + dti sneak peak :

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ^ྀི the topic of kids !

“Jungkook?” You ask your boyfriend, who just hums at you. He’s sleepy.

“You ever think of kids?” Your voice is sleepy as you sleep.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “with you? Yeah, all the time. Why do you ask?”

It feels nice. It feels really nice to know that he feels the same way about you. He also wants to have children with you. Not now, for sure, but one day.

“I fantasise about our future a lot. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I’ll make chop suey out of your dick and feed it to the sharks if you do.” You threaten him, followed by a yawn. Jungkook just laughs, the sound of his soft laugh echoing from one year to another. You love the sound of it. So, so, so incredibly much.

“You’d have to kill me to make me leave you, my beautiful baby Y/n. Even so, I’d come haunt you as a ghost. ‘M never leaving you alone.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You say as your fingers fondle with the gold chain around his neck. “How many kids do you want?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “how many does mommy want? I’d like to have as many as you’d want to pop out” ; he ends his sentence with a laugh.

“Mommy wants at least 3.”

He nods, hand patting the crown of your head. “‘Kay, daddy agrees too.”

“You think…I’ll be a good mom?” Your words are a tad bit slurred as the drowsiness is getting to you really bad, but you still ask your question.

“Is that a question? You’re the most patient person I know. You’re the most genuine and kindest person I’ve ever met. Sometimes I don’t understand why you’re still with me because I can be such an asshole sometimes. You’re like, the angel that I was blessed with. You’re the light to my life, the sun to my moon, I don’t know brah”—he pauses and holds you tighter and murmurs, “you know how I feel about you,” into your neck.

You giggle, your grip tightening around your plushy as you blushed. “What are you? A poet?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You’re making me horny. Let’s make a football team.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Love Always, Your Best 🥀 (Eren x Black!F!Reader 18+ V-Day One Shot)

“Five years later, and I’m still your best, baby. Let me remind you why.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which the person you loath most in this world and the best lover you’ve ever had, your very toxic ex-boyfriend Eren, suddenly shows up out of the blue one random night at the same restaurant you happen to be at with your new man on Valentine’s Day. He is newly single and on his bullshit. Unfortunately for you, that means he’ll stop at nothing to remind you of how his bedroom skills make up for his lack of relationship skills….hopefully.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); Possessive, Obsessive & Toxic!Ex!Eren; Sexual Tension; Alcohol & Marijuana Use; Drunk/High Sex; Dubcon/R*pe; Coercion; Cheating; Dom!Eren x fsub!Reader; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Messy Pussy-Eating; Doggystyle; Mating Press; Eren Got A Big Ol' Dick; Tattoos & Piercings Kink; (a little) Plug!Eren; Dirty Talk; Reader Cums 3x; Daddy Kink; Cum-Drunk!Reader; Eren Dickmatizes You; Dumbification; Cumshot; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: MY FIRST EREN FIC!!! EVERYBODY GET UP & CLAP!!! This is some very nasty, manipulative, lowdown, dirty, toxic sh!t as a warning. Something about Eren being a total dick is kinda hot to me lol. Enjoy!! 😘😘 -Jazz

****************

‘Oh, no,’ you think. The only thought you’ve had since you laid eyes on him seconds before.

Out of all of the places you would think of running into him, you never thought it would be here on this day of all days.

Your ex. Sitting at the bar. And not just any ex: your very toxic ex whom you broke up with five years ago because of his said ‘toxicity’. He is also the man you used to be head over heels for. Like completely head-in-the-clouds, singing-in-the-mirror in love with this man who happens to be the most obsessive, jealous, and emotionally unavailable man you have ever met. 

And unfortunately for you, also the man who gave you the best dick you have ever had in your life. 

As soon as you see him sitting at the bar nursing a Gin & Tonic, his veiny hand adorned with rings and ink that he always thought looked so much better wrapped around your neck, it is like being smacked dead in the face. Every one of the features that you adored–his shoulder-length black hair; his angular side profile; the piercings glittering in his ears, pink bottom lip, and right eyebrow–is like being shell-shocked over and over again. 

“Oh, my God,” you blurt. You cannot stop yourself from saying it as you sit four tables away from him in the expensive restaurant you both occupy. The decor is adorned with red, pink, and white flowers, fine white tablecloths, and hanging lamps that glow a dim, romantic red for Valentine’s Day. You wore your favorite slim, sexy red dress for the occasion, but right now, you feel anything but sexy. 

Your date and long-term boyfriend looks up from his menu, his forest-green eyes etched in concern. “What? What’s wrong?” He, too, wore his Valentine’s Day best–a red sweater paired with an Armani blazer, designer slacks, and red bottom shoes. His hair, black and curly, is slicked back to show off his handsome features fit for a model…or a male nurse. Kaido is well-wanted at his job by almost every woman working in his hospital due to his dashing good looks and body worthy of drooling over, but as far as you’re concerned, he is tied down to you.

“O-Oh, nothing!” you immediately squeak, nervously laughing it off. Quickly, you come up with a lie to avoid explaining to Kaido about your ex whom you never told him about. “Sorry, I just saw a coworker and I can’t believe he’s here. He’s always an asshole to me.” You giggle again, hoping that this will help make things light, easy, and not at all awkward even though your body feels like it’s in fight or flight mode. 

But it has the opposite effect. Immediately, Kaido begins looking around for him. “Really? Where is he? Maybe he needs to meet me.” You resist the urge to lurch across the table and cover his eyes. “No, no, Kaido, don’t! He’s an asshole to everyone.” 

Kaido tuts, angrily taking a sip of the complimentary champagne you were given prior to sitting down before getting up, causing his chair to skid across the floor. The old couple sitting behind him stares at him in irritation. “Well, nobody treats my girl like that. You both work together, so—“ 

“Kaido, please stop,” you quietly huff, flushing with embarrassment. “You always do this.” Your boyfriend stares at you, alarmed. “Always do what?” 

“Try to prove yourself to me,” you answer, irritation evident in your tone. “You don’t have to go out of your way to do that all the time.” You know it isn’t fair to get upset with him. It isn’t his fault that your ex-boyfriend has left you so shaken. 

Kaido, still standing, scowls at you, offended. “So you’re mad because I want to defend you and be a good boyfriend to you?” 

“No, that’s not…” Your words die in your throat, your heart pounding furiously in your chest. Now you feel horrible though there aren’t lies in your statement. Since you’ve been dating for over two years, Kaido has always gone out of his way to prove to you and himself that he is a great partner, somehow upping the last thing every single time. 

Expensive gifts that you feel obligated to take. Romantic dates that you feel guilty for him taking you on. Constant phone calls and text messages that you often find yourself getting tired of receiving. You feel horrible for all of it because Kaido is such a sweet man. You couldn’t ask for anything more…could you? 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, moving your hand across the table to grab his. “I don’t wanna fight. I just don’t want to ruin tonight with bullshit like….him.” Your eyes flit across the room at Eren who licks the contents of his drink off of his upper lip, his tongue ring glinting in the dim, red light. The venom in your tone is evident. 

Kaido’s eyes soften and he interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry too. I just love you, Y/N, y’know?” He gives you a smile that is so adoring that it pains you. “I really do.” 

You feel that familiar lump at the mention of the L-word fill your throat, making it hard to even smile. “I—“ 

“And here are your drinks!” The waitress has returned with your drinks, acting as an angel who has come to save you in your hour of need. “A Moscow Mule and a glass of our finest wine.” She lowers your Moscato down in front of you, crisp and ready to be consumed. “Are you ready to order?” she asks, taking her notepad out. 

“Yes!” you immediately chirp, digging into your menu for appetizers and a main course. It is the perfect distraction from having to lie to Kaido and say “I love you”. 

Though you and Kaido have been together for two years, first meeting when you came in for nausea pills after a stomach flu, you haven’t said the L-word to him yet. He said it last year after he took you to your city’s annual Christmas lights festival and confessed under the most beautiful blue and white lights you’ve seen in your life. It was magical. It was romantic. It was the absolute wrong time. 

“You don’t have to say it back yet,” he said, noticing your saddened and guilty expression. “Just tell me when you’re ready.” But you haven’t been ready for over two years now. And you’re not sure if you ever will. You care so deeply for Kaido, but you don’t think you’re in love with him. You can’t see him in your life forever the way you should. 

Not like a certain someone. After you order your food, Kaido is busy putting in his order when you take a sip of your Moscato. You already had a glass of champagne, so maybe more alcohol isn’t a good idea because your eyes begin trailing. And they trail right over to Eren. 

He looks so different yet the same. It is an odd mixture, but regardless, he still gives you the same butterflies that feel so new to you. You don’t think you even got butterflies when you first started dating Kaido. They are the same stupid, annoying, fluttery tingles that you got when you met Eren for the first time. 

And then he turns and looks at you. Those intoxicating, enchanting, sinful teal eyes lock onto yours from across the restaurant. And instantly, you are taken back to five years ago when it was just him and you, and nothing else. 

You were young and naive as one is during their first year of college. You were overworked and underpaid at your little part-time job to pay for school, so your friend introduced you to her plug. She walked you to Eren’s dorm where he answered his door in nothing but gray sweats with Paramore blasting in the background. He had less tattoos then, but was still everything your parents didn’t like: cool, aloof, didn’t give a single fuck, and sold weed to put himself through college and fund his tattoo business. 

“Hey, Eren!” your friend greeted. “This is my friend, Y/N. She’s looking to buy a dime bag.” Her plug took one lazy look at you, his eyes rolling up your body, and you felt supremely exposed in your thin cardigan and hip-hugging jeans. As if noticing he got you, he smiled his award-winning Eren smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, his voice silky. “Lemme get you two a drink.” 

After that day, he was in your phone as your personal weed plug. The more you started visiting his dorm and the more he showed up at yours delivering personal baggies of weed, the more you got to know each other. It didn’t take long for the attraction to bloom and soon, you were falling hard for the boy. 

He was your first love. The one you wanted to be with forever. You felt so safe in his arms, snuggled up in his dorm during free periods, catching the smoke rings he would make with his mouth between your lips. He gave you your first tattoo–a tiny heart between your breasts. “So I’m there forever,” he whispered, kissing you gently as he laid numbing cream on the fresh tattoo. 

Eren was always has good of a dick plug as he was a weed plug and tattoo artist. He gave you the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. There were plenty times you skipped classes to get put into his mattress instead, filling his walls with the sound of your moans and the headboard knocking against the wall. When you broke up, your nights were filled with endless fantasies of his long, fat dick in your mouth and filling up your aching pussy, making you delirious enough to want to call him. 

But Eren was also very toxic, jealous, and possessive. All to the point where it drove you crazy. He hated when you wore revealing clothes. He shot shady glances at men that even looked your way. He couldn’t stand any of your male friends and made it clear that you were his by leaving love bites on your neck. He would show up to your job or while you were out with friends, completely unannounced and uninvited. 

You often got into fights over this which ended up hot, mindblowing sex that often fizzled out all of your anger…until one night a month before you graduated uni. After dating on and off for four years throughout school, you and Eren came to a standstill as graduation approached and you snagged your dream position in a city two hours away from home. 

That was the night you broke up with Eren after a dick appointment. You didn’t tell him the news until after you got your nut. In retrospect, that probably wasn’t a good idea because of course, Eren was pissed. “You didn’t think to tell me this before the sex?” he scoffed, sitting on the edge of your bed in his boxers. 

“I didn’t know how, Eren,” you argued, sitting naked under your sheets. “As soon as you got here, you had your dick out!” That’s when the argument started, heated and loud, and that’s when you realized that you had to end your chapter with him right there. 

That made Eren even angrier. “You’re actin’ like I can’t come over there to visit you,” he snapped as you hastily got dressed. “Or I can just move there! Do you not want me there?” He gave you that hurt look that often got you feeling guilty, but you couldn’t do it anymore. 

“Don’t do that, Eren, please,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I just don’t want for you to have to give up your life here just for something that may not work.” 

Realizing your mistake, your stomach lurched. But it was too late: Eren was wounded. “Why wouldn’t it?” he asked, his voice small and distant. You hurt him. You stood there, feeling like you were holding the gun and he was the target. “Because….because….” 

Because you’re toxic. Possessive. Jealous. Dangerous for me because of that dick.

“Because I want a fresh start,” you lied. “And I can’t do that if I’m tied to you.” 

Your boyfriend’s eyes widened, the anger radiating off of him in waves. “Tied to me?” he parroted, scoffing with a dry laugh. “So what? I’m like some kind of dead weight you need to get rid of?” You looked away, unable to see the hurt in his eyes. “Fine then,” he deadpaned, “but you know you won’t forget me. And I won’t forget you either, Y/N.” 

And you never did. When he left that night, he took all of the joy and love with him. Even though he called and texted you for days after, you never answered, instead drowning yourself in finals and arrangements to move. After some time, the contact stopped and you went your separate ways. You never heard from or saw Eren again…until now. Now that you’ve moved back home and met a new man, here he is again.

“Let’s exchange gifts!” Kaido suddenly exclaims. You blink, pulled out of your memories, and look down to see a white box in front of you. Quickly, you fish his gift out of your bag and pass it to him with the brightest smile you can muster. “You can open yours first.” 

Kaido grins and opens the tiny red gift bag, fishing the digital Amazon watch out of it. “It’s not quite an Apple Watch, but it’s close! You can download apps on it and it checks your blood pressure.” You wanted to buy the most pricey gift you could afford, hoping to accommodate for all of the expensive gifts he has given you. 

Kaido cocks his head to the side like you’re a cute little puppy. “You’re too cute,” he tuts. “Now open mine!” You take a sip of wine before doing so and your smile drops at the sight of the 24k gold chain sitting inside the box. “Kaido,” you gasp. “Is it–” 

“Real?” he chuckles, smiling proudly at you. “Yes, baby, it is. Let me put it on you.” He moves from his seat and comes behind you, gingerly taking the chain from the box to fasten it around your neck. As he does, Eren turns in his stool and watches, sipping on his Gin & Tonic. His face is unreadable and that angers you. Why is he even looking? Why is he even here? 

And why the hell do you care? 

Kaido’s hands brush your neck as he finishes and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just like I knew it’d be. Now, everyone knows that you’re mine.” Eren sips his drink again and the corner of his lips lift in a crooked smile. The same smirk that melted you. 

Suddenly, you are overwhelmed. The restaurant has become too hot and too small. You feel like a giant Alice in a too-small room after eating the wrong cookie. Once Kaido sits down, you stand up like your ass is on fire. “U-Um…I’m gonna go pee real quick,” you say. “This wine is goin’ right through me.” You give Kaido a quick reassuring kiss on the lips before you make a beeline to the bathroom…but you don’t go in. 

Instead, you find the nearest exit and go out for some much-needed fresh air. The air is bitter cold, tinged with winter, but you let it cool your clammy skin in your red cocktail dress. Standing on the restaurant’s patio, you breathe in and out slowly, calming yourself. In and out…in and out…in– 

“Cold out here,” a familiar voice comments. “Where’s your coat?” The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Of course, Eren follows you the very moment you’re alone. Of course, you’re the only two out here. 

You shouldn’t turn around, but you do. Like some kind of dark angel, he stands in the silvery glow of the moonlight, the light washing over his porcelain skin, black sweater, and jeans. 

His name is inked on your tongue just like the tattoo he gave you, still implanted between your cleave: “Eren.” You don’t say it happily or with venom. You just say it. 

But it’s enough to get Eren to smile. “Hey, you,” he greets you. “It’s been a long time.” You hate that he speaks to you as if you’re old friends. You’re not. “Why are you out here?” you scoff. Eren’s handsome face turns cold. “So that’s how you’re gonna talk to me after five years and actin’ like you ain’t know me in there?” 

Here we fucking go. “You shouldn’t have followed me out here,” you say, your tone firm. 

He shrugs, placing one inked hand in his pocket. “Just wanted to see if you were okay. You looked…startled, ‘specially when dude gave you that pretty chain.” He digs a Marbolo box out of his pocket. He still smokes after all of this time. When he lights that damn thing and his pink lips form an O around a smoke ring, you realize that you still find it attractive after all of this time as well. 

The air is silent yet tense between you with unsaid words. “So you’re back in the city,” he states, his eyes gleaming at you. “When’d you come back? I thought you left for that big girl job.” 

“I did, but it didn’t work out, so I came home last year.” You notice that his jaw is tight. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you?” you accusingly ask, squinting at him. 

Eren scoffs as if the idea is preposterous. “Why would I be? We haven’t talked in, like, five years. Things changed…clearly.” He takes another drag of his smoke, blowing a steady stream out into the cold air. 

“What does that mean?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from becoming agitated. What the hell is he getting at here? He passively shrugs like it should be obvious. “I just meant you’ve got a new man. He seems nice.” You sense bitterness, but you don’t comment on it. You don’t feel like turning this into something heated. 

“So what of you?” you question, leaning against the wooden bar of the patio. “You still at the tattoo shop? Are you seein’ anyone new now?” 

Eren smirks at you, quirking his pierced brow. “Well, aren’t you interested?” he chuckles. Still a teasing shit. You turn to leave, but he stops you with a hand on your elbow. “Hey, hey, I’m just kidding! I own the shop now and no, nobody new. I was seein’ someone for about two years, but it didn’t work out.” 

You stare at him closely, trying to decode if he’s telling the truth or not…but then again, Eren was never a liar. A toxic asshole, yes, but never a liar. “So what happened?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest to hide yourself (and your hard nipples from the frigid air). “Did you do something? Did she?” 

Eren shakes his head like you got it wrong and flicks his cig down on the ground. “Nah, it was a joint decision.” Knowing you need more meat than that, he sighs and snubs his cigarette out under his foot. “She thought I wasn’t the relationship type,” he explains with a dry smile on his face. 

‘You weren’t,’ you think. ‘You still aren’t. That was why we broke up.’ You wonder briefly if he was as toxic with the mystery ex as he was with you. You wonder if he was as possessive and damn near yandere with her as he was with you the entirety of your relationship. 

Eren gives you a strange look, his teal eyes turning into slits as he squints at you. You lean back a bit, alarmed and confused by his sudden interest in your face. “I’m detecting somethin’,” he points out. “You wanna talk about this?” He doesn’t elaborate on what he means by ‘this’, but he doesn’t have to. The last thing you want to talk about is anything about your or his new relationships. “Not really,” you huff. “Sorry, but I need to go.”  

You know the more you are out here with him, the worse this situation will get. But as you go to pass him to enter the restaurant again, Eren gently grabs your hand. You whip around, trying to tug yourself away. “What are you doing?” you demand. “Eren, don’t.” 

But he doesn’t let go and his firm yet burning expression tells you that he isn’t letting anything go. “You don’t really love that guy,” he says, accusingly so. “I can tell. The minute he put that necklace on you, you looked like you wanted to hide under the table and never come back out.” 

You glare daggers at him, angered. “How dare you?” you hiss, ripping your hand from his. “You don’t know me anymore, Eren, and you clearly didn’t know me back then! I was looking for real, genuine love, but you clearly couldn’t give me that ‘cause of your shit. You’ve got issues.” 

Eren’s eyes flash with something that you can’t decipher, but you know it ain’t nice. “And you don’t?” he scoffs. “You’re sittin’ there pretendin’ to play ‘love-struck girlfriend’ with a dude you ain’t even in love with. I could see it a mile away.” He moves closer to you until he is practically looming over you, making your heart jump. “You forget I know you, Y/N: I know your body too well.” 

He gently traces a finger down your arm, sending goose pimples all over you. “Get off,” you whisper-hiss. You shove him by his chest and he lets you, stepping away to allow you space. “I’m not doing this with you. Ever.” Quickly, you yank open the door and head back into the restaurant, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You know he is still staring at you as you retreat, but you don’t dare look back. 

Even when you sit back down with Kaido, your body won’t relax and you still feel on edge. You barely even notice that your food is here. Kaido looks up from his sea bass, worried. “Hey, that was a long trip,” he comments. “You alright?” You grip your wine and take a much-needed sip to calm your nerves. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “I just–” 

And then suddenly, your ex is there again. You see his tatted hand by your shoulder, holding the arm of your chair, and you nearly jump out of your skin. His arrival is like a damn jumpscare in a horror movie, smile and all. “Don’t mean to interrupt the V-Day date here,” he chuckles, standing among you and Kaido. “Just wanted to say it’s nice to see you again, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re happy.” 

His smile is supposed to be kind and warm, but his eyes tell you everything you need to know: he still isn’t over you and he intends to make himself known to your new man. You sit as rigid as a board, unable to breathe properly. Kaido confusedly looks between you and Eren. “Who’s this, babe?” he asks, all innocent and cluseless. But you can’t say it. You can’t even breathe. “I’m Eren,” your ex replies, holding a hand out to Kaido. “An old friend of hers.” The two men firmly shake. “We go waaay back, don’t we, Y/N?” 

Eren turns to you, his smile turning into a crooked, teasing smirk that makes you want to toss your Moscato in his face. “Uh…yeah,” you squeak. “It was nice to see you again.” You offer him a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He slowly moves towards you and bends down, making your blood pressure shoot through the roof. 

“You too,” he whispers and his lips ghost your cheek in a slight kiss. His hand rests somewhere at his side, undetectable. Though you try to fight it, his lips and the closeness of his body brings your entire body to life and you suddenly feel things that Kaido–your Kaido–has never made you feel before. 

Eren then straightens and gives a respectful nod to Kaido. “Enjoy your dinner.” And like a thief in the night, he is gone, walking towards the bar to grab his leather jacket and leaving the restaurant. You watch him, your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, as your body burns…and your pussy aches. “Well, he had some cool ink,” Kaido laughs. “Those gages were gruesome though.”

He goes back to eating his dinner like everything is normal while his girlfriend is sitting across from him, aroused for another man. Roughly swallowing more wine, you take your napkin from the table and unfold it to lay in your lap. As you do, a folded piece of paper tumbles out of your napkin and into your lap. 

You already know how it got there. With shaky hands, you unfold it and read the note written there for you, including a phone number: 

If you decide you want a real romantic night, call me. I know you deleted my number. – Love Always, Your Best

You nearly throw up the rest of your dinner as you stare at Eren’s handwriting. You barely can swallow your food despite the tiny pieces you cut it up in. Luckily, dinner ends abruptly because Kaido gets irritated by the drunk businessmen sitting at the bar behind him and pays the tab. 

By the this time, you’ve drunk more than you chewed, so the wine and champagne are making you feel bubbly, light, and sexy. You hang onto Kaido’s shoulder as he walks you outside, your trench wrapped tightly around you. “Thank you for dinner tonight,” you purr. “I have dessert back at my place…and ice cream.” 

Kaido turns to you, his eyes alight from your secret meaning. You smile and lean in for a kiss to coax him back to your apartment, but his ringtone stops you. Irritated, Kaido swears and pulls it out of his pocket, becoming more agitated at the message there. “Shit,” he huffs. “M’sorry, babe, but that’s the office. They want me to come in for a last-minute triage.” 

You blink at him, confused. “But I thought you were free tonight. You took off for the day, right?” That is what he told you at the beginning of the week when he made the reservations. Kaido gives you a sheepish look and you realize he “bended” the truth. “Only for a few hours,” he sighs. “I didn’t think they’d need me.” 

You can already feel disappointment twisting in your gut. “But it’s Valentine’s Day,” you argue. “Why are you going to work on a day meant for us?” 

Kaido sighs, already sounding irritated with you. “Babe, I’m sorry, but don’t get so worked up. You shouldn’t feel too bad…I mean, things are still one-sided between us.” 

You detect the switch-up in his tone immediately. “What does that mean?” you scoff. Kaido looks away, refusing to look at you, but that sour expression stays locked on his face. “What?” you push. “Because I haven’t said ‘I love you’ yet?” Kaido doesn’t answer nor does he look at you. Those actions are all the answers you need: he is angry you haven’t uttered those three little words yet.

Suddenly, tonight feels like shit and so do you. “Kaido, I told you before: I care about you so deeply, but it’s too early for me,” you say, exasperated. “I’ll only say it when I’m ready.” 

“Then when will that be?” he demands, finally looking at you. The hurt in them is clear. “It’s been a year, Y/N! How long do you need to know that you love someone?” You are stunned into silence and suddenly, you feel like crying. How could he spur this on you now of all nights? 

Kaido’s phone rings again and he sighs, running a hand through his curly hair. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” 

You don’t say anything to him, too afraid of breaking out into sobs or cussing him out. Instead, you stay quiet as he drives you home and it is by far the most uncomfortable moment you’ve ever experienced. You’ve never been so happy to be in your crib alone when Kaido leaves after dropping you off. 

You kick off your heels, drape your coat over the couch, and slump on the couch. You feel trashy. Unsexy. Lonely. The alcohol only intensifies your shitty feelings until you want to crawl out of yourself and hide. So what do you do instead of taking your ass to bed? You dig Eren’s note out of your pocket, which you kept instead of throwing away, and get your phone…but you stop from dialing his number. 

‘Don’t do it,’ a tiny voice in your head says. The voice of reason. Your thumb hovers above your phone screen as you teeter-totter between right and wrong. 

In the end, you ignore the voice of reason, the loneliness and wine speaking for you, and dial his number. You put your phone on speaker, not wanting to fuck up your makeup and wait in anticipation for the ringing to stop. After the fourth one, it does. “Hello?” he asks. His silky voice fills your living space. 

“It’s me,” you exhale. You can’t even speak properly. After all of these years, he has this effect on you still? “I know,” he replies and you wonder if he’s been anticipating your call. “How you doin’? You okay?” You pause for a moment, your muddled mind not processing the situation properly. 

“You wanna come over?” The words fly out of you before you can stop yourself. Eren pauses for a moment and the silence is so damn loud. “Do you want me to come over, Y/N?” he asks. Once again, the very dangerous word flies out of you: “Yes.” 

Eren inhales slightly as if he can’t believe you’re agreeing to this. You can’t believe it either. “Tell me the address,” he demands, his tone heady with need. You tell him and you can hear his car keys jingling. “I’ll be there in ten.” And then the call is done. You sit there, wondering what the hell just happened, and what the hell you just did. 

You just invited your very toxic ex over to your place. On Valentine’s Day. The reality about how bad you fucked up hits you like a truck. You need to stop this. You need to call him back right now and– 

Ding-dong! Your Ring alerts you to someone at your door and your pulse jumps. Ten minutes passed already? Slowly, you get up from the couch and walk over to the door, your feet softly padding across the hardwood. “Who is it?” you ask. 

“Who do you think?” Eren replies, a smile in his voice. “I’m here to rob you.” You briefly contemplate leaving the door shut, but you open it anyway. There he stands in his clothes from tonight, holding a bottle of watermelon margarita mix. “I brought some stuff for the occasion.” He slips a Ziploc bag out of his pocket. Inside it are papers, a lighter, and a small baggie of marijuana. 

You stare nervously at the smoke contents and then at him. Noticing your reluctance, Eren frowns. “I’m not gon’ do anythin’, Y/N. I’m not here for none of that…just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He patiently stands there, letting you decide for yourself whether to let him in or not. Finally, against your better judgment, you open your door wider and allow him to step inside, his cologne curling into your nostrils. 

For the next thirty minutes, you and Eren drink and get high as kites. He places his shoes by the door and makes himself at home on your couch before rolling a blunt on your coffee table. You watch his expert fingers roll, twist, and pinch as you sip on a glass of the sweet, tequila-infused margarita mix, becoming drunker and drunker with every sip and suddenly wanting Eren to lick you the way he licks the blunt closed. 

After that, you pass the blunt back and forth between one another, talking about the past and giggling about stupid shit. The tension in the room ebbs as the air becomes thick with the scent of pungent weed and the sound of Daniel Caesar playing from your Amazon Echo sitting in your kitchen. It is as if things never changed between you two. Things are still the same, but better because you’re both adults now. 

Eren sits back into the cushions, puffing on the blunt. “So what happened?” he asks. His teal eyes are slitted and slightly red from the smoke fumes. You know you’re not that much hotter. You feel like you’re falling out of your dress. “He went to work tonight, so I got mad, so we had a public fight.” You shrug, sipping your drink while Eren pulls a disgusted face. “He went to work on Valentine’s Day? I’ve never done that to anyone before.” Smoke billows from between his pierced lips as he passes you the blunt. “How’d you even meet him?” 

You roll your eyes, but tell him anyway as you take a puff of the blunt. The smoke and the alcohol have begun to make you feel looser. So loose that you could lose the dress if you wanted to. “That’s so clichè,” he laughs. “Super corny…but you always did like that cutesy shit. It’s one of the reasons why I loved you so much.” 

You don’t stumble on the L-word like you would’ve if you were sober. “That was a looong time ago,” you chuckle. You go to pass the blunt to him but nearly spill your glass on yourself. “Whoops, careful, baby,” he says, laying a hand on your back to help you. “You nearly spilled that on your couch.” 

You make the mistake of looking at him then and suddenly, you realize just how handsome Eren is: a sharp jawline with an angular-shaped face, soft lips, and intoxicating eyes. He’s so close. His gaze falls to your lips as his Adam’s Apple bobs and it snaps you back into reality. 

“No,” you gasp, pushing yourself away from him. “This was a bad idea. You should go.” you nearly stumble as you stand, but you manage to save yourself. “What?” he asks, confused. “But I just got here. I thought we were talkin’.” 

“We did talk,” you snap, moving to the door. “Now you need to go before…” You stop talking before you say something that will get you in trouble. Instead, you turn the knob to your door, but Eren’s hand stops you. You gasp and turn around, realizing that he somehow transitioned from the couch to you in a few seconds. “Before what?” he pushes. “Before you do somethin’ you know you wanna do?” 

He looms over you, his hand on your wrist, completely in your personal space. “Eren, don’t,” you whisper. “Please leave.” You try to twist yourself away from him, but his other hand holds your waist. “I can’t,” he murmurs. “Not until you admit that I’m what you need. You know you don’t love that guy.” Because you’re so short, he bends his knees slightly to reach you, his lips ghosting your cheek. “He can’t make you feel how I can.” 

He presses a kiss there that electrifies you. Those electric kisses travel down to your neck, sensitive and personal. “Eren,” you weakly moan. “Don’t do this.” You press your hands to his chest, wanting to push him away, but your body is too weak. Too tired. “Don’t push me away, baby,” he sighs. “Don’t deny yourself.” 

And then his lips, soft and slightly cold from lip piercing, are on yours. His kiss is deep. Passionate. Personal. It makes your heart explode and your mind melt into a puddle—not at all how Kaido’s kisses are. They are just as addictive as they were in the past. And so you kiss him back. Your fingers clench his shoulders as his hands caress your ass, squeezing the globes over the fabric. 

“I fucking hate you,” you growl. He smirks against your lips, gently sucking on your bottom lip. 

“No, you don’t,” he replies. And you don’t. You can’t. And you hate that. Despite all of his bullshit, you still love his kiss. His touch. His sex. 

He pulls you close to him, making you feel the bulge pressing against his jeans. You gasp against his lips, a spark of pleasure exploding in your core. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his lips coating your throat. His teeth graze there, leaving little lovebites that you’ll surely cuss him out for later. “Fuck me,” you beg. “And then leave.” 

He pulls away, his eyes ablaze with lust, and slams his mouth against yours again. “Where the fuck is your bedroom?” he mutters against your lips. 

Suddenly, your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms are intertwined around his shoulders as he carries you to your bedroom, his footsteps quick in stride. Your tongues swirl and your lips caress one another as you kiss, indulging in each other’s taste and the moans you give and receive. Finally, Eren makes it to your bedroom and slams the door shut with the back of his foot before placing you on the edge of your bed. 

Everything moves in flashes like some kind of movie with scenes missing: your dress comes off; your bra is unclasped and replaced with Eren’s hands massaging and molding your tits; his shirt comes off, exposing his muscles, pierced, tan nipples, and scatterings of tattoos adoring his porcelain skin. His eyes are ablaze with lust as he kneels before you between your thighs, his big hands massaging them. “Lemme see you,” he murmurs. 

Slowly, your knees part, and your pussy is exposed to him. A slow smirk stretches across his lips as he gazes up at you. No panties. You were planning this but Kaido, but you guess your ex works too. “God, I’ve missed this,” he sighs. “Look how wet she is fa’ me.” 

He takes two fingers and swirls them over your clit before moving down over your slit, gentle yet effective. You gasp at the soft contact, pleasure exploding all over your body. “Eren, c’mon,” you whine. “Please.” His gaze darkens, damn near feral, as he opens your legs wider, pinning them apart. “Don’t move,” he demands and then he’s diving down between your thighs. 

One thing about Eren that you always loved is how he eats pussy. He goes crazy with your shit, alternating between long, slow licks and quick lashes against your clit that make your eyes roll back and your toes curl. His magical, wet mouth and soft lips suckle on the needy button of your clit, soaking your pussy in his saliva that he slurps back up with no problem or disgust. When his tongue finally dips back between your slit, you nearly lose it. “F-Fuck!” you gasp. “Eren, yes! Go deeper!” 

Your fingers grasp his long, black locks for dear life, pushing him deeper into your pussy. But he manages to look up to give you a cocky smile. “If you’re louder for me, sure.” Smug motherfucker.

He continues to give you long strokes of his tongue, the cold metal of his piercing melting against the hot, wet, spongy walls of your pussy and somehow making everything more sensitive. “Fuck, please!” you sob. “Please, please fuckin’ give it to me!”

Tears soak your lashes, threatening to fall down your cheeks. This feels too good. It’s almost painful. Eren smiles and proceeds to tongue-fuck you, his nose nuzzling against your clit as he dips his tongue in and out of your hole. 

Your moans bounce off of the walls, loud and brazen, unable to be contained. Eren pulls away with a moan as he gazes down at your glittering, sobbing wet pussy. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he groans against your clit. “She’s mine, isn’t she? Only mine?” 

Smack! “Oh!” you gasp as his hand comes down onto your clit, smacking it hard. “Fuckin’ tell me what I wanna hear,” he growls. “Tell me that this pussy is mine.” Smack! Smack! You buck from the pleasurable sting, nearly cumming from his calloused palm wetly smacking your cunt. 

“I-It’s yours!” you gasp. “It’s yours, Daddy, I swear!” 

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Good girl,” he coos. “Now cum for me so I can finally fuck that mouth.” He goes right back to tonguing you down with a mission, swiping his nose against your clit as he eats you out so good that you see stars. He moves his jaw with every intention of making you cum. “Do it, mama,” he begs, his words slightly muffled by your sticky cunt. ���Cum for me. Give it all to me.” 

And you do. You can’t help it. You are controlled by him like a puppet is by her master and with every string he pulls, he makes you gush around his tongue. He greedily moans and laps at all of the cream you give him, gulping it down like a starved man as you moan and call his name to the ceiling, massaging your tits in the throes of your pleasure as you do. 

When you finally calm and your back straightens from its arch, Eren pulls away, his lips shining with your juices. “Missed that shit,” he sighs. “Missed you so much.” He bends down to swoop you up in a deep, messy kiss, forcing you to taste yourself. When he pulls away, he is as feral and demanding as he was before. “Sit up, take off my clothes, and open that pretty mouth up fa’ me.” 

Despite your brain still trying to reboot from that orgasm and your limbs feeling like spaghetti, you still do as he says. You sit up on the bed and allow him to kneel in front of you, his crotch right in your face. He watches as you peel off his pants and underwear while he toes off his socks, soon leaving himself completely naked. You admire his toned muscles, your hands gliding down his stomach to his V-line and muscular thighs. Oh, how you’ve missed his body. 

And how you’ve really missed his cock. He is so hung. So long. So curved, the tip nearly kissing his lower stomach. With a crooked smile, he wraps a hand around his throbbing cock and gently taps it against your chin. Just how you like it. Your jaw falls open and your tongue rolls out, allowing him to tap his head, sticky with pre, against it.

“You remember how I like it, mama?” he asks. “Or do I need to refresh your memory?” 

More or less, you do need a memory jogger. But once he’s got that big, long, beautiful cock in your mouth, you are taken back to your dorm years when you used to bob your head for your life giving him top between free periods. His dick stretches out your mouth just the way you remember as he settles on your tongue, his hips slowly rolling against your chin. 

“Fuck yes, that’s it,” he moans. “Fuckin’ fuck, I’ve missed this pretty mouth.” He peers down at you with those teal eyes, one hand in your hair while the other cascades down between your open thighs. “Wanna take me deeper, ma? Think my fingers will help you?” 

You feel his long fingers prying your pussy lips open and slipping between them to glide along your slit. You moan around Eren’s cock as your pussy pulses and throbs in pleasure, the act somehow making your jaw stretch wider. His fingers then slip into your slippery, velvety-soft pussy while he sinks his cock deep into your throat. “Mmmm!” you moan, the pathetic sound muffled by his cock. 

He grins as he begins to fuck your face, ruining your makeup and causing spit to drip down your chin as he fingers you. “That’s it: moan around my cock, baby. I can hear you just fine.” He smirks, curling his fingers upward and making your toes curl as pleasure shocks you to your core. “I can hear somethin’ else too. You’re so fuckin’ wet…” 

You concur, your ears perking at the sound of his fingers squelching inside of your sloppy pussy that just keeps drooling and creaming around his long, inked fingers. His cock is just as drenched in your mouth, making wet sounds every time he plunges into your throat, his balls flush against your chin. Every saccharine moan and grunt that leaves his lips pushes you closer to the edge of another orgasm that ripples on the surface. 

Eren slips his cock out of your mouth to stroke it furiously in your face, entranced by your moans as he finger-fucks you. “E-Eren!” you warn. “Eren, baby, fuck, I’m gonna cum again!” 

Suddenly, the pleasure ceases as he slips his fingers, slick with your juices, out of you. “Uh-uh,” he growls. “Not yet. Not till I’m inside of you.” He brings his fingers up to your mouth and you obediently suck on them, rolling your tongue around his digits. “I’m not finished with you yet, baby, and I know you’re not finished with me.” 

He takes you and tosses you back onto the bed, making you bounce against the mattress. Then he is yanking you close by your ankles and hiking your thighs up over his hips, your pretty toes contrasting with his lighter skin tone. “After all, I’ve gotta remind you who fucks you the best. Five years later, and I’m still your best, baby. Let me remind you why. ”

He gives you a shit-eating smile before he takes his cock and– 

“Oh, my God!” you gasp, your eyes blown and your mouth agape. As soon as he is inside of you, stretching you, bottoming out in your pussy, you feel like you’re soaring and flying through the heavens. The ecstasy is monumental, opening up your senses in a way where you feel like you were just bit by a radioactive spider. You can taste the sweat on Eren’s tongue; hear every ragged breath he takes as he pumps himself into you; see every vein pulse in his pecs and neck; feel his body throb as you grip his forearms, pectorales, and shoulders. 

He stares deep into your eyes as he drills your cunt into the bed, giving you deep, long strokes that make your toes curl and your body writhe in need for more. “And who fucks you the best?” he breathlessly asks. His hand snatches out to grab your throat, massaging it in time with his strokes. “Say it to me nice an’ clear, baby. Tell Daddy who owns you.” 

He squeezes your throat a little harder, applying extra pressure to intensify the pleasure you’re swimming in. “You!” you loudly sob. “You do, Daddy! Fuck, just like that, Eren! Please keep fucking me just like that!” You would gladly tell him anything for him to keep fucking you so good. Fat tears soak your lashes sticky with ruined mascara as moans, whimpers, and gasps pass your lips wiped clean of lipgloss. 

Eren gives you that very Eren grin–cocky and prideful. Because he knows he’s killing that shit. He releases your throat and applies both hands beside your head to give himself support before thrusting a little faster, his hips rolling in a way that makes his pelvis brush against your clit. “Just like this?” he teases, his hair and chain tickling your face. “Is that good for you, babe?” 

You can’t even answer him. The entire English language has been wiped clean from your brain. All because of his cock. His sex. His everything. The way sounds he makes, the heady scent of his cologne, and the lewd sounds of his skin slapping against yours pull you over the edge into the abyss of ecstasy, making your eyes flutter shut and your jaw grow slack. “Cum for me,” he demands. “C’mon, baby, do it again. Gimme that fuckin’ cum.” 

He goes faster, harder, drilling your pussy into the bed as if he is trying to win an award doing so. The award is your orgasm which is explosive and intense. “OH!” you shout as you unravel around Eren’s cock. Your moans are loud and desperate as your pussy squeezes around the cock inside of you, your walls clenching and pulsing, giving Eren a hard time trying to hold himself back from a nut. 

But not yet. He can’t leave this here. His face flushed and his hair in his face, he pulls his slick cock out of you as you buck and twitch from your orgasm. “Not done,” he growls. “Not done with you yet.” 

Suddenly, as quick as a flash, you are on your stomach and Eren is behind you, forcing you onto your hands and knees. Your arms feel like jelly, so all you can do is press your face into the bed as your ass is hiked up for him. He gives it a couple of harsh smacks–Smack! Smack! Smack!–before his cock is slowly sinking back inside of you. “E-Eren, wait!” you squeak. “I’m t-too sensitive!” 

His laugh is breathless and enraging. He loves seeing you in agony. “Don’t worry: I won’t go fast.” He presses kisses to your back as he begins to slowly roll his hips into your ass. “Just relax for me, mama. You’re in good hands.” 

And then plap-plap-plap go the sounds in the room as he fucks you from behind. Your ass jiggles and claps against his thighs as he gives you deep thrusts that make your pussy melt around him and your clit excitedly jump from the stimulation. “Eren,” you whimper. “Please, please, please!” 

Evidently, you’re louder than you thought you were, causing Eren to tut. “You’re so loud, baby…I’ll have to fix that.” He yanks you up and his hand pushes your face to turn to the side, allowing him to give you a deep kiss that steals all of the air out of your lungs just as his cock does. “That’s it,” he coos. “Just enjoy this for me, baby. Lemme give you what you need.” 

Then you’re back onto the bed, your face in the mattress and your moans swallowed by the sheets as the man above you fucks you absolutely dumb. You don’t know which way is up and which is down. The world spins around you, dizzying yet intoxicating, the sex you’re receiving turning you inside out. 

“So slutty,” Eren chuckles above you, rolling his hips as he sinks his cock deep inside of your wet, heavenly hole. “Just listen to all the sounds you’re makin’ for me. Bet your man couldn’t make you sound like this.” He leans down to press himself fully against you, his pelvis brushing against your ass. “Y’know, I never forgot about you,” he whispers. “I never stopped lovin’ you, Y/N.”

His soft lips begin to caress your neck and shoulders before he picks both himself and you up, giving himself a chance to prop his leg up. The new position leaves you a moaning, sobbing mess, your pussy suddenly having no choice in the matter of cumming again. You grab the sheets so tight that your knuckles turn white as you feel your third orgasm cresting. “Eren,” you moan. “Oh, fuck, m’gonna…gonna…!” 

“Yeah?” he teasingly asks. “You wanna cum all over this dick again, huh?” He wrenches your head back with his hand on your chin. “Then tell me that you love me. Tell me you love it when I fuck you.” 

“I-I…” Your mind is moving a million miles a second, the pleasure leaving a thick fog in front of your sense of reality. You know you shouldn’t, but the way Eren fucks you is too good to resist telling him anything he doesn’t wish to hear: “I love you,” you whisper, the forbidden words passing your lips. “I love you so much, Daddy! I love it when you fuck me! You do it so good!” 

You feel him smile against your cheek, his other hand gripping your ass as you begin to furiously rub at your clit, your fingers slipping and sliding along the rosebud. “Now tell me that you’re gonna leave that asshat for me.” 

The fog clears a bit and it is enough for you to process what he just said. “W-What?” you stammer. “Eren–” 

He roughly bends you over, cutting you off, and gives your ass a harsh smack that sends your clit into a frenzy. “Say it,” he orders. “Say it and I’ll let you cum. Tell me you’re gonna break up with him as soon as tonight is over.” Harder. Faster. His thrusts grow more intense than ever, making it a point to make you so insane and so desperate that you fall apart at the seams. 

“Say it!” he bellows. “Fuckin’ say it!” 

Tears soak the sheets and officially ruin your makeup as your self-control leaves you. You know that you are about to commit the ultimate betrayal just to get your nut. “I’ll leave!” you sob. “I’ll leave him for you, Daddy! I love you so, so much!” 

The laugh that leaves Eren’s mouth is evil, damn near entering villain territory. “I love you too, baby,” he laughs. “Now cum for me like a good girl.” All it takes is a few more of those luscious, mind-blowing thrusts until you are cumming uncontrollably around his cock once more, screaming into the bed as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. 

Eren moves faster, fucking your cum-soaked pussy with vigor to chase his own high, massaging and palming your ass as he does. He then pulls himself out of you and furiously strokes his dick against your butt, the sounds of his hand stroking his wet cock drifting in the air. “Fuck, fuck!” he grunts before he lets out a series of luscious moans as ropes of cum spurt from his cock and onto your asscheeks. 

You tiredly whimper as you feel warm spurts of his spunk hit your skin, signaling the end for the both of you. Your body and pussy throb in tandem from the session, your skin soaked in sweat, the air heedy with the scent of sex. Eren raggedly exhales and collapses next to you onto his stomach. His hand slides across your back, running gently down your spine. “That’s my sexy fuckin’ baby,” he coos. 

You can’t say anything back. Exhaustion has taken over and suddenly, so has sleep. You don’t make a fuss as Eren pulls you up the bed and helps you under the covers, the cool sheets settling across your damp skin. You feel his body next to yours, the scent of his sweat and cologne filling your nostrils. Your cheek rests against his chest as his hand tangles in your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. “Sleep now. I’ll be seein’ you soon.” 

You don’t answer because sleep has made her arrival and has swept you away to quiet and serene nothingness. 

When you awaken the next morning to the winter sun pouring in through your bedroom window, you are alone. The bed is made and your dress is neatly folded at your feet. It is as if nothing happened last night and you slept alone. 

But the delicious ache in your body tells you differently. And the note sitting by your lamp along with a glass of orange juice and an Aspirin definitely tells you differently. 

With your head clearing from the sleep and the reality of your horrible situation hitting you (along with a hangover), you pick up the note and read Eren’s messy handwriting: 

Thanks for last night. Hit me up again soon. xxxx 

-Love Always, Your Best

Putting the note down, you grab your house phone from the nightstand and dial Kaido’s number. It is the one thought you have to do first to start your morning. Not stretching. Not getting a glass of water. Not showering or brushing your teeth or contemplating whether or not to kill yourself because you slept with your toxic ex-boyfriend. 

Instead, you face reality head-on like a real bitch as Kaido’s voicemail enters your eardrum: “Hi, this is Kaido Ashida! I’m not here right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” 

Beep. Your mouth opens. “Kaido,” you automatically say. “Hi…it’s me. I think we need to talk after last night.” 

And then the guilt sets in as you stare down at Eren’s note, your body teeming for another night with him soon. “I don’t think this is gonna work,” you sigh. 

THE END.

[domm1etae]

Right in Front of You

f!reader x roommate yunho

oneshot | mdni

1.2k

Y/N spends Valentine’s night searching for a hookup, only to come home empty-handed—until she realizes the perfect option was sitting in her apartment all along, proving that sometimes, the best things don’t need to be chased—they’re already waiting for you

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style, top yunho, bottom reader, roommates, reader is on BC, roommates to fucking?

author's note: since yesterday was February 14th—aka Valentine’s Day—but i didn’t post anything, i decided to drop a little post-Valentine’s treat ;))

Y/N barely managed to keep her balance as she fumbled with the lock, heels dangling from one hand, bag slipping from the other. She was still in last night’s outfit—nothing too scandalous, but enough to scream I was trying to get laid and failed miserably. Her makeup wasn’t ruined per se, but her eyeliner had smudged just enough to give away that she hadn’t just stepped out looking fresh.

The moment she stumbled into the apartment, Yunho’s laughter rang through the living room. He was perched on the couch, long legs stretched out, nursing a mug of coffee like some judgmental prince.

“Well, good morning,” he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips. “What a sight I have right now.”

Y/N groaned, flipping him off without breaking stride as she tossed her shoes near the door.

“Rough night?” Yunho asked, his tone drenched in amusement.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she grumbled, finally collapsing onto the couch next to him. “What about you? What did you do?”

Yunho took a slow sip of his coffee before answering. “Me? Oh, nothing crazy. Made dinner, played some games till like 2 AM, then went to bed.” He tilted his head toward her, eyes twinkling. “What about you? Who was the lucky one who took you home?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, draping an arm over her face. “That’s the thing. You’d think that on Valentine’s Day, the club would be filled with hot singles, right? But no. Just couples everywhere—kissing, slow dancing, rubbing their happiness in my face. Not a single man in sight.”

Yunho hummed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “Huh. Well, I was alone yesterday, you know.”

She peeked at him from under her arm, brows furrowing. “What are you saying, Yunho?”

He turned to her then, closer than before, his gaze no longer teasing but intent. His voice dropped, slow and deliberate.

“If you wanted action,” he murmured, “you didn’t have to go to some stupid club.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunho leaned in, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of coffee and whatever stupidly nice cologne he always wore. His arms rested on the couch, caging her in.

Her lips parted slightly, a mix of confusion and anticipation making her pulse spike. “You—what?”

Yunho scoffed, tilting his head at her like she was the dumbest person he’d ever met. “You’re actually so blind, Y/N,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement but something else too—something darker, something hungry. “You had the easiest opportunity to get laid right in front of you this whole time.”

His fingers trailed up her thigh, just barely skimming the fabric of her dress, and Y/N felt her brain short-circuit.

Looping her fingers behind his waistband, she tugged him even closer, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “If that’s true, then maybe you should do something about it,” she murmured.

Yunho didn’t need to be told twice.

His mouth crashed against hers, hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs digging in just enough to make her gasp. That was all the opening he needed, tongue slipping past her lips as he pressed his body flush against hers.

Heat coiled low in her stomach as Yunho’s hands abandoned her face in favor of something much more sinful—one slipping under her dress, the other palming her breast as he deepened the kiss, tilting her head just the way he wanted.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, fingers fumbling at his shirt, nails dragging over his abs before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck,” Yunho growled against her lips, his breath coming out shaky. “You’re really desperate, huh?”

Y/N had half a mind to be embarrassed, but then Yunho was pushing her dress up around her waist and dragging her panties down her thighs, and any rational thought she had completely dissolved.

He let out a low groan, fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her entrance before slipping one inside. Y/N’s breath stuttered, her back arching at the delicious stretch.

“Shh, keep quiet for now,” he murmured, smirking when she let out a sharp gasp. “We’ll see how long you last before you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N was about to snap back at him, but then he added another finger, curling them just right, and her head hit the back of the couch, a strangled moan ripping from her throat.

Yunho chuckled, working his fingers into her at a pace that was just slow enough to be torturous.

“You’re soaking wet,” he mused, voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that time looking for a one-night stand, and you could’ve just asked me.”

Y/N barely managed to glare at him, her fingers digging into his arms as she rocked against his hand, chasing the friction. “Stop talking and do something.”

Yunho raised a brow, then grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

In one swift motion, he withdrew his fingers and flipped her over, pressing her chest against the couch as he yanked her hips up. Y/N gasped, arching into him as he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough to free himself.

She turned her head slightly, eyes widening as she caught sight of his cock—thick, flushed, and already dripping at the tip.

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed.

“That’s the plan,” Yunho smirked, dragging the head of his cock through her slick folds before teasing her entrance.

And then he pushed in.

A broken moan ripped from Y/N’s throat as he sank into her, inch by inch, stretching her out in a way that had her thighs trembling.

Yunho let out a shuddering breath, his grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

Y/N barely had time to process that statement before he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

She choked on a gasp, back arching, hands scrambling for purchase against the couch.

“Oh my God—”

“Yeah?” Yunho groaned, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “Go on, baby. Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into the cushions. “Fuck, Yunho! You!”

He growled at that, fingers tangling in her hair as he yanked her head back slightly. “That’s right,” he murmured against her ear before biting down on her shoulder, setting a pace that had her body rocking against the couch.

Y/N felt like she was burning, pleasure coiling in her stomach as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Yunho groaned, his hand sliding around to rub tight circles against her clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Y/N nodded frantically, barely able to form words. “Y-Yeah, fuck, Yunho—”

Her body tensed, pleasure exploding through her as she came with a cry, trembling beneath him. Yunho followed soon after, spilling deep inside her with a groan, his body slumping against hers.

For a moment, all she could hear was their ragged breathing.

“So... you wanna tell me that all this time I could’ve been getting the best dick ever, and instead I’ve been suffering in silence?”

Yunho chuckled against her skin. “Well, I guess we have time to make up for that.”

[aureatelys]

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart—a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I’m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

-

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.  

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.  

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

-

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he’s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

[heavyhitterheaux]

You Put a Move on My Heart (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I've got a real thing here by my side

someone who needs me holding me tight

and these special feelings won't ever fade

cause I knew from the start you put a move on my heart

Synopsis: You're excited to spend your first Valentine’s Day with Joe, but things don't go exactly as planned

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The look on your face was one of disbelief as you looked at your best friend who was smiling at you and wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don't why I always ask you for advice or suggestions or literally ANYTHING anymore. Everything that comes out of your mouth is typically diabolical.” You told her as she continued to smile at you.

“Look, don't get all loud with me. You asked for a suggestion and I gave it to you. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with what I suggested.” She replied as she threw a few doritos in her mouth.

“Do you think he'll like it?” You asked suddenly, becoming nervous, but as well as you knew your boyfriend deep down you knew that the answer would be yes.

“Y/N… he's a man. What the hell do you think? I never met one that doesn't.”

“Hmm, good point. Now how bad does it hurt?”

“I mean it's not a little tickle, but it's definitely not like getting hit by a tractor trailer as far as pain goes.”

“And you have had said experience with the tractor trailer?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“You get on my nerves. You're getting your nipples pierced and we’re going and we're going now. Oh, and don't wear a bra, it’ll be irritating. This will be part one of Joe's Valentine's Day gifts. I know a girl that will do both for twenty dollars.”

“I… Twenty dollars!? I don't want my nipples to fall off after an hour!” You exclaimed as your eyes suddenly went wide.

“She pierced mine and I lived to tell the tale. She does it out of her basement though so….”

“NO. We are going to an actual tattoo shop.”

“Oh, so you agree? You'll do it?” Erin asked and you let out a huff.

“If something goes wrong, I'm blaming you.”

“Oh, please. Just you wait. Joe will be thanking me.”

After looking up a tattoo shop that wasn’t too far from your apartment, you scanned the reviews to see that everyone had been satisfied when they went there whether they had gotten a tattoo or a piercing. Erin offered to drive and once she put the address in the GPS, the two of you were on your way.

Once she parked in the parking lot behind the building, the two of you walked around the front and when you had crossed the threshold of the door, you were met with different tattoo designs covering the walls and a girl sitting at the front desk twirling one of the piercings that she had in her ears. When she looked up and saw the two of you, she instantly got a smile on her face.

“Hi! How can I help you?” She politely asked and Erin wasted absolutely no time in blurting it out.

“My best friend wants her nipples pierced to surprise her boyfriend for Valentine’s Day and I dragged her here.”

Hearing her say it out loud made you instantly cross your arms protectively over your chest. All in all, you knew that you had a high pain tolerance, but seeing as it was one of the most sensitive parts of your body, you weren’t quite sure.

“Of course! You just have to fill out this paperwork right here and then I’ll need your id.” As you nodded your head, she handed you the clipboard along with a pen and pointed to a bench where you could sit and fill it out.

The most “exotic” piercing you had besides your ears was your nose and belly button. The idea of piercing anything else, especially your nipples had never even crossed your mind. You should have known better than to ask Erin for a suggestion since you knew how she was.

Once you were finished, you walked back up to the desk and handed the forms over along with your driver’s license and as she was looking it over to make sure you didn’t miss anything, you glanced back at Erin who had given you a thumbs up along with a small smirk.

“Okay, we are all set, if you’ll follow me. Is your friend coming?”

“No, I’ll stay out here. She’s a champ, she can take it.”

Looking at her in disbelief as she declined to come with you, she waved you off and you quickly followed the girl to the back to one of the many rooms that they used for piercings.

“You can sit over there while I get everything set up. And are we doing one or both?”

“We can do both. Might as well.” You decided as you took off your jacket to place it on one of the chairs that was next to the window.

“And gold or silver jewelry?”

“Hmm, silver. Since it matches everything else I have.”

She nodded her head as she opened a drawer full of piercing jewelry and quickly pulled out two barbells.

“So, besides this, what are your other special plans for your boyfriend?” She asked as she motioned for you to lift your shirt and she quickly began cleaning the area, starting with the right.

“Well, my boyfriend is a huge nerd and I love that about him so he’s getting a Spongebob lego set and also a cologne that he loves since I noticed he was running low and didn’t have a lot left. I think we agreed that we were going to make dinner at my apartment or his and not go out since we know everyone else will be out and about.”

“I love that idea and I absolutely love Spongebob. You ready?”

As soon as you gave her the nod of approval, you felt the needle pierce your skin and you instantly winced. Within a second, it was over and she was screwing the end of it on and cleaning around it.

“Good, one down and one more to go. You okay?”

“It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Oh, they’ll throb later. Make sure you take something for it.” She said while smiling and that immediately led to a frown on your face.

—

Wanting to keep the new piercing a surprise, you didn’t plan on telling him and he would simply see it on Valentine’s Day. It was now February 13th and you had noticed earlier in the day when you woke up how you had felt a little off for some reason. You still did your normal routine of going to gymnastics practice as well as going to class, but was thankful when you had finally gotten back to your apartment.

Before you decided on dinner, you wanted to take a shower and get comfortable for the night since it had been such a long day and would probably end up with you falling asleep on the phone with your boyfriend as you had done many times before. As you turned on the water in the bathroom and waited for it to heat up, you started to strip down out of your clothes and immediately let out a groan and was trying not to throw a little temper tantrum.

“You cannot be fucking serious. Why did this shit decide to come early?!” You said out loud to no one in particular as you saw it.

After you let out a deep sigh, you went on the hunt under your sink for products as well as comfy clothes from your bedroom to change into once you were finished.

When you were out of the shower, you got dressed and moisturized your hair before picking up your phone and texting the groupchat with Erin and Alisha.

You- You two won’t fucking believe this

Alisha- WHAT HAPPENED?!

Erin- SPILL THE TEA

You- I got my period and now one of Joey’s surprises are ruined

Erin- Damn it. And it’s a good surprise too.

Alisha- Oh, right, the nipple piercing. I’m sorry babes. Joe can just give you all the cuddles you want and feed you chocolate

Erin- I have a suggestion or a recommendation if you will

Alisha- Oh lord smh

You- Uh…

Erin- Okay, great! Glad you asked!

You- I actually didn’t ask, but okay

Erin- Period sex

You- I….. 😳😳😳

Alisha- Erin, is there anything under the sun that you haven’t tried?

Erin- Nope! And it makes your cramps feel better, but only if you’re up for it and of course if Joe is comfortable. But knowing his ass, anything you want, he’ll do it. Just get like a period sex blanket and put it down on your bed and go for it

You-No thanks, I’ll be satisfied with the cuddles

Erin- I just wanted to give you an idea! Oh I have another one! He can literally just make you cum by playing with your nipple rings

You- Bye Erin. I’m going to see if Joey can bring me some candy and ice cream over. Starting not to feel all that well

Alisha- Ask for kisses too! That always helps

Erin- Let me know if you try it!

Once you got settled on the couch, the cramps really started to kick in and the most comfortable position that you could be in at the moment was the fetal position. Knowing that just sitting there wasn't going to do anything to help your pain, you made it up in your mind to head to the kitchen in order to get something for the pain.

As you dragged yourself to the kitchen to look for some ibuprofen, you sighed when you noticed that your cabinets were empty. Unlocking your phone took a few times since your eyes were brimming with tears because of how much pain you were in and quickly facetimed Joe.

It took him no time to answer and when he picked up, he had a concerned expression on his face as he saw you upset and wincing.

“Baby doll? What’s wrong?”

“Can you bring me ibuprofen and a shitton of chocolate and ice cream? I currently feel like I was hit by a car.” You breathed out as you held onto the counter to steady yourself.

“Yeah, of course, anything else you need?” He asked as you saw him getting up and moving around his bedroom.

“Cuddles from my boyfriend because I feel like absolute shit right now.”

“Okay, let me get dressed and I should be there in thirty minutes at the most. Go and try to lay down, but leave the door open for me so you don’t have to get back up.”

Nodding your head, you did as you were told before walking to your bedroom and crawling to the top of your bed.

“Fuck, this hurtssss.”

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“No, but the way I feel I would honestly probably throw it back up.”

“But yet you want chocolate and ice cream?” He asked confusedly as he was putting on his shoes.

“Joey, I don’t make the rules, okay? I just abide by them.”

“I’ll get you something anyway, just in case. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, I love you.” You mumbled as you propped your phone up on the nightstand.

“I love you too.”

When your eyes fluttered open, it took you a second for them to adjust and you noticed that there was now a heating pad on your stomach and your boyfriend’s arms were wrapped around you. Glancing at the nightstand, you saw the bottle of ibuprofen along with your water and chocolate.

Not wanting to turn around and move from your comfortable position, you simply called out for your boyfriend.

“Babeeeee.” You whined and in response, Joe leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Thank you for bringing what I needed.”

“You’re welcome. Now I need you to sit up and take this medicine since you were knocked out when I got here.” He told you as he helped you to sit up. You reached over and popped four pills in your mouth and a swig of water to wash it down before turning to look at him.

“I ruined our first Valentine’s Day.” You said as you pouted, but Joe let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby.”

“But my period decided to come early! It’s like it KNEW!”

“Look, if you’re comfortable with it, we can still do something because that doesn’t bother me. But if you’d rather wait until it’s over that’s fine too. Biggest thing for me is making sure that you’re okay.”

“Why are you like the perfect boyfriend?” You asked and you could feel that you were about to start crying again.

“I’m not perfect, I just take my girlfriend’s feelings into consideration. And Valentine’s Day isn’t only about sex. There’s plenty of other things we can do, but since I know how your cramps are, we can just stay in tomorrow and watch your favorite movies. We’re still going to make dinner and spend time with each other.”

“I need to get you another gift for that.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to get me a gift for doing something basic such as considering how you feel.”

“Doing it anyway, and you can’t change my mind. And wait a minute….. Joseph….”

“I… damn why are you saying my full government name?”

“You never actually asked me to be your Valentine!”

“Princess, you cannot be serious. Who else would I want to be my Valentine?” Joe asked as he looked at you in disbelief.

“I don’t know! Those girls that always come up to you on campus to say hi!”

“I… do not start. They don’t compare to you and you know it.”

“I guess I’ll let it slide since you did come and give me cuddles when I asked for them.” You said as you made him lean down so that you could kiss him.

“You're going to be my Valentine starting from now until forever.”

“Okay, you talk a big game, but I’m holding you to that Burrow.”

“Now that I have you, I’m definitely not letting you go.”

The day had finally arrived and you woke up with your room being surrounded by red and pink heart shaped balloons. You looked to your right to see that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, but in his place was a huge teddy bear that you knew for a fact was bigger than you with a card attached to it.

Smiling to yourself, you opened the card to see Joe’s handwriting staring back at you.

Y/N, better known as my princess or baby doll,

So excited to be spending our first Valentine’s Day together and I spent about a month deciding on what I should get for you. I hope you love all of your gifts that I bought you, but keep in mind no material things can amount to how much I love and care about you. I’m thankful and grateful to have you in my life and this is only scratching the surface of what is to come for the both of us.

Love, Joey

As you placed the card back inside of the envelope, your bedroom door opened to reveal your boyfriend and you immediately opened your arms signaling to him that you wanted a hug.

After maneuvering through the many balloons, he came over to the left side of your bed and hugged you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Happy first Valentine’s Day baby doll.” He told you before leaning down to kiss you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Are we doing gifts now or later? I can't wait for you to see what I got you.”

“We can do it later. I got up early and made breakfast for you.”

“But someone told me you can't cook.”

“Says who!? Does his name start with Ja and end with Marr?”

“Hmm, I think so.” You replied as you nodded and tried not to laugh.

“I'm about to get his ass for that and yes I can even if I don't do it often.”

“So what is on the menu for this morning?”

“Heart shaped pancakes, bacon since I know how much you're addicted to it and fresh fruit.”

“Are they really shaped like hearts?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“Why don't you come and see for yourself? But first I figured you would want to take a bath and I have the water waiting for you and then you can eat.”

“I seriously do not deserve having you as my boyfriend.” You told him as you sighed.

“Let this be the last time that I ever hear you say that. You deserve everything, especially because you hadn't been treated that well in the past.”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a few of them fell before Joe wiped them away for you.

“I am such a cry baby when I’m on it.”

“You're a cry baby anyway, but I still love you just the same.”

You made a face at him as he smiled at you and pinched your cheek before helping you up so that you could go to the bathroom.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you're done.” Joe told you before leaning down once more to kiss you.

As promised, the day was filled with you and Joe watching your favorite movies and you exchanged gifts after making lasagna, garlic bread, and salad for dinner. As you were sitting there on the couch next to Joe with your new necklace dangling that had his initials on it you glanced over at him to see that he was scrolling on his phone and not paying the movie any attention.

“What are you doing that has you so interested in your phone?” You asked and he looked at you and smirked.

“Your birthday is coming up so I need to start planning.”

“You have plenty of time, there's no rush.” You said as you had now focused back on the tv as Leonardo Dicaprio came onto the screen.

You were making Joe watch Titanic for the millionth time, but he never complained.

“I'd just rather get everything together early and no I'm not telling you because I know that you’re about to ask me. And what do you mean I have time? We have literally three weeks.”

“But…”

“No, and that's my final answer.”

“I'll get it out of you one way or another. And I can also just ask Ja'Marr.” You told him as you crossed your arms and suddenly remembered about your new piercings that you had yet to show him.

“Babe, put your phone down for a second.”

“Hmm?”

“I did a thing two days ago and this was supposed to be a part of your surprise, but now that ship has since sailed, I still wanted to show you.”

“What did you do?”

Turning a little bit more towards him, you had on one of Joe’s t-shirts and simply lifted it up to show him.

Once Joe saw the jewelry that was now decorating your chest, he immediately smirked as he started to play with them.

“Do you like it?”

“You can't tell by my reaction?”

“Well it was Erin's idea and she dragged me. Which I know you aren't surprised by.”

“Definitely remind me to thank her when I see her.”

“She warned me that you would probably say that.”

“Let me ask you something.” Joe said hesitantly, but looked at you seeing that you were giving him your full attention.

“What's that? You gave me your serious voice.”

“We don't actually have to have sex, but I can still make you cum. If you're up for it that is.” Joe asked and he could tell that you were thinking about it.

“By doing what?” You curiously asked, but had a strong feeling about what he was about to suggest.

“How about I just show you instead?” He asked and you nodded your head.

Not being experienced in the sex department, Joe would always ask if you were comfortable doing something beforehand and never pressured you. He wanted you to be comfortable and if anything ever didn't feel right or you changed your mind about something, he wanted you to tell him immediately.

This time was no different as he laid you down on the couch as he hovered above you and tugged on the bottom of his shirt that you were wearing.

“Arms up, take this off.”

Once Joe peeled the shirt off of your body and threw it behind him, his mouth instantly took one of your nipples into his mouth and lightly began to suck on it, making a gasp escape from your mouth.

After switching to the other one, he noticed that you winced slightly and quickly asked you if something was wrong.

“You okay?” He softly asked and you nodded your head.

“They're just a little sore.”

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. Don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, keep going.”

As those words instantly left your mouth, Joe reattached himself to one side while rolling the other in between his fingers making you squirm.

It only took about ten minutes for you to hit your peak as Joe was placing kisses all over your chest as your breathing began to slow down. Once it did, Joe crawled all the way back up your body and placed several kisses on your lips.

“That was just a preview of what's to come on your birthday, but only if you're up for it.”

“I….”

“So that it'll make up for today. But of course, I promise not to do anything you aren't comfortable with.”

“I know, I trust you. And if this was just a preview, what else do I have to look forward to?”

“I'll just let it be a surprise, so you have to be patient.” Joe told you as he thought about the rose vibrator that he just bought to use on you for your birthday.

[ultramaga]

Rich doesn't mean much. I'll give an example. If a middle class Westerner travels, they find they are considered a target in most places, because - compared to the people elsewhere - they are rich. Growing up, I had relatives that had computers, that would get a decent stereo system, that had caviar a few times a year and they would travel overseas on holidays. That seemed insanely wealthy to me. They travelled to Beverly Hills at one stage, just to look around, only to be picked up by the police immediately. Why? Because compared to the locals, they looked poor.

I think it was Rupert Murdoch who was in a lift with a billionaire who was boasting about gambling while they were in Las Vegas. Murdoch offered to wager a billion dollars on something. The other man declined. A billionaire is wealthy but is nothing compared to the people who are at the top. And even then it could be argued that there are higher elites, since there are men and women who can order the billionaires of their country to give them their property and assets and kneel on the chopping board. Xi, in China, is an absolute dictator not seen since Mao. If he wants anything you have, it is his.

I don't know if there's any level of wealth where you don't worry. Rich people can and are embezzled or just robbed, to the point of poverty. And you can become a prime candidate for kidnapping. I knew a woman who had been rich all her life, but lost everything because an accountant her family had always trusted had quietly moved everything overseas, then disappeared, leaving them destitute.

And one thing that was near universal with lottery winners was that after a year or so, they had nothing to show for it, or were actually worse off. Sudden wealth means disaster if you don't know how to manage not only money, but the sudden pressure from relatives etc to spend it on them. One thing they noticed in Australia was that the old Housing Commision here was a failure for aboriginals. Why? Because the indigenous culture was communist. So as soon as you had anything, it was someone else's, and they would come over and trash your stuff. Aboriginals just wrecked all the free housing they were given because they didn't value any of it, and the few who tried to climb out of the crab bucket were pulled back down. The government has moved since to more providing rent assistance, which is horrible for the disabled because it is quite legal for real estates to discriminate against them, and they are inclined to because disability covers people with severe mental illness, or drug addictions, where they will trash whatever accomodation they are in, or steal from their neighbours, or even burn down the place trying to make meth. So how much is wealthy? A million in assets? That barely gets you a house in Sydney. A billion? Great - but you can be wiped out by illness or divorces. In fact, divorce seems to be the likely fate for any male, meaning they become poorer, meaning they have less assets, less chance of finding a new mate ...

And then you can be arrested and imprisoned because the judge doesn't care what you do earn, they care what you hypothetically might earn according the judge's estimations, and they don't care if their beliefs don't match the reality. If the judge thinks your wife deserves twenty million a year for pedicures, but you can only earn ten, ten million dollars is poverty.

Oliver Warbucks: STILL, I’VE BEEN RICH AND POOR, AND A POOR MAN SURE HAS A LOT LESS TO WORRY ABOUT- Annie: YEAH- AND A LOT LESS TO EAT, SOME TIMES- I’D RATHER WORRY ‘BOUT A FEW MILLIONS I HAD THAN ‘BOUT HOW TO GET TWO BITS-

[kyeomofhearts]

Bed Wars | J.WW

+ summary: after spending countless hours building a house for your boyfriend... you're suddenly met with his bed placed right next to yours? what the hell man! + pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader + word count: 800~ + content: fluff, established relationship, they're just playing minecraft lol, reader likes to bicker.

[ᝰ.ᐟ] happy valentine's day!!! thought i would post something small to celebrate since i didn't post for last year's valentine's day. also i would like to (unfortunately) thank @cherry-zip for bullying me into posting this on time! hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! <3 (borders made by @enchanthings !)

"C’mon dude,” you groaned, staring at the sight in front of you. “I made you a house for a reason!”

Wonwoo’s response? Moving his bed right next to yours. 

“Well, I want to sleep here,” he stated simply.

You let out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed. “Like, seriously? The colors don’t even match!”

Wonwoo only giggled, enjoying your frustration with him. “What are you talking about? My purple bed goes perfectly with your pink one. Also, what if a creeper spawns in my house—how will you ever hear my cries for help?”

Your eye twitched at his insistence. God, he was so annoying. “Now, why would a creeper spawn in your house?” 

“You never know, I’ve seen it happen before.” 

“Fine. I’ll move out then,” you said, quickly destroying your bed and leaving the house. You weren’t even bothered enough to take anything from your chests.

The two of you continued playing in silence for a few minutes. It’s not like you were actually mad or anything… but it was fun to start a meaningless fight with Wonwoo. 

In the meantime, you explored the surrounding biomes in hopes of finding a suitable place to make a new house. Well, more like a camp. (Your house was way too pretty for you to simply abandon.)

After a few more minutes of silence, Wonwoo began to message you in the game.

[gam3bo1: where are you :(]

[gam3bo1: i miss youuuuu]

[gam3bo1: answer me!]

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, turning to look at you from his monitor, eyes filled with faux innocence.

You scoffed. “Oh, no. Not at all. I just love how you’re completely ignoring the fact that I built a whole house for you, and yet, you insist on staying in my house!”

Wonwoo let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, it's not my fault my house feels so… lonely.” 

You rolled your eyes as he spoke, but he didn’t stop there. Who would’ve known that he was going to be this pouty.

“Look, our babies miss you too.” He waved you down to look over at his screen.

To your disappointment, curiosity got the better of you. “This better be–” Your voice cut off at the sight of your pets. 

All of your in-game pets–the dogs, cats, and even the random parrot you found in a jungle biome a few weeks back–were all sitting obediently inside your home. Wonwoo had conveniently placed them all in front of his bed, having them turned to look at the empty space–where your bed used to be. 

You narrowed your eyes upon realizing the little stunt he was trying to pull on you. “You’re trying to manipulate me into going back home!”

Wonwoo gasped. “I would never do such a thing!”

After a few moments of pure laughter, you finally gave in. You could never stay mad at him for too long. 

“...Fine, I’ll come back.” You huffed out, finally turning back to your monitor and making your way back home.

As you neared your house, something new caught your eye.

Behind your house, was a small, heart-shaped garden. The ground was tiled in a red-and-pink checkered pattern, carefully placed block by block. Peonies and roses filled the garden’s corners, their colors nicely decorating the huge heart in the middle. In front of the heart sat a small seating area just for the two of you.

“Oh.”

“I made it while you were ignoring me,” Wonwoo said, his voice suddenly next to your ear.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard. It was… annoyingly cute.

You continued to move around, stepping onto the checkered flooring and admiring the little details he had placed all around. It was cute.

“...You built me a garden?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo hummed. “I might have had help from a few tutorials, but yeah. I wanted to make a spot for us.” 

And unsurprisingly, your stomach did an embarrassing flip.

Wonwoo went back over to his desk, quickly moving his player to sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Following him, you sat down in the chair in front of him, and before you could even say anything he beat you to it.

“I just thought our shared house could use a little extra love. You know, since we obviously live together.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as Wonwoo laughed triumphantly beside you. He just had to ruin the moment! 

“Now c’mon, let’s go to bed,” he said as he pressed ‘Save and Exit’. By the time you reached the main menu, Wonwoo was already pulling you away from your desk.

“I’m never building you anything ever again,” you muttered, body betraying you as you leaned into him on your shared bed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And yet you still let me sleep next to you.” 

You wanted to argue, but sleep was already pulling you away. “Mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 2

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; reader might have a crush on Kyra ;)

Word count: 3.4k

| PART 1 HERE |

Over the next few days, Kyra and Y/n settle into a comfortable, domestic routine.

Kyra was the first to wake up each day. She went straight to Y/n’s room to check on her and give her her morning medication, along with a cup of black coffee.

Y/n didn’t like mornings, especially now with the heavy cast on her leg. Kyra, on the other hand, loved mornings, so she sat by Y/n’s bed and chatted for 20 minutes straight while Y/n nodded along to whatever Kyra was saying.

“—And that's how we’re beating Man United this weekend,” Kyra concluded after a long thought process about technical strategies that would lead the Gunners to yet another victory. “I mean, they can’t keep putting her as a winger, right?” Kyra turned to Y/n, waiting for her to nod again.

“How can you have so much to say at 7 am?” Y/n asked, hiding her face in her pillow.

“I just do, it’s a talent, you wouldn’t know it, Grumpy,” Kyra shrugged and threw herself on the bed next to Y/n, the sunlight hitting Kyra’s freckles.

Kyra was wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old, oversized t-shirt, she looked pretty, comfy, and very cuddly too.

“Will you come with me today?” Kyra asked, changing the subjects, caution in her voice.

“Where?” Y/n asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to go to physiotherapy or the doctor for another two weeks.

“Training?” Kyra explained, holding her head with one hand as she rested her elbow on the mattress. “They miss you, the girls, I mean. You could go there for a few hours, talk to Alessia, Leah, Steph… I bet Win misses you too,”

“I’m not in the mood,” Y/n said, turning her back to Kyra. Y/n missed the girls, but it would be too upsetting to see them running around while she could barely stand on her own.

“You’ve said that the last three times, Y/n” Kyra sighed. “You haven’t left the house, not once, and you also won’t talk to anyone but me and your mom. That’s worrying. You can’t just wait for me to come home every day, you also need to do relaxing and fun things for yourself.” Y/n felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulder. It was Kyra’s hand.

You can’t just stay here in bed and rot, maybe you could start a new hobby! Painting, sudoku, I don’t know!””Kyra continued, using the serious tone she never used with Y/n. “You need to see people, see your friends, get some fresh air.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “And do what? Talk about how miserable I am all the time?” Y/n said bitterly.

Kyra didn’t understand.

She had never been seriously injured before, she didn’t know what it was like to just go to bed every day not knowing what the future held. Football was everything to Y/n. It was her passion, her hobby and her career. Ninety per cent of her friends were footballers themselves, her whole social circle revolved around football.

Without it, she was nothing Football’s been her thing since she was a kid. Y/n had grown up with a ball on her feet, and now it was gone, and she didn’t know if she would get it back. Right now, Y/n was nothing.

Kyra pressed her lips together and stared at the girl, trying to think of what to say.

“Go away please, I want to be alone,” Y/n muttered after the room had gone quiet.

“No,” Kyra said. “Let’s talk about this, let’s—”

“Go. Away.” Y/n snapped.

Y/n felt the shift in the mattress. Kyra wasn’t sitting on it anymore. “You can’t keep pushing people away, it’ll only hurt you even more,” Kyra said quietly. “You can’t let yourself go like that, you know how easy it is for us athletes to get depressed after an injury, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not depressed, Kyra!” Y/n locked eyes with the other girl, anger slowly building in her chest. “I just don’t have anything! If I talk to the girls all I’ll think about is how they’re playing and I’m not.

“You don’t have anything?!” Kyra raised her voice. “What do you mean you have nothing? You’re not just your fucking leg, or your football—You’re a whole person! Just because you can’t play right now doesn’t mean you have no worth.”

Y/n remained silent as Kyra’s voice escalated. Kyra was starting to get angry with her. Kyra had never been angry with her before.

“You are injured! Your tibia split in two, of course, it’ll take some time to heal. Does that mean you have to stay in the house for the remaining months? Of course not!” Kyra’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath.

“Kyra, my whole life had been inside a pitch, I don’t know how the fuck to live without knowing if I’ll ever be in one again!” Y/n exploded, pointing at her cast “And this fucking leg hurts all the time, it’s always a reminder of how unhappy I am and how the world kept on moving while I just stay here!”

“But you don’t have to just stay here! You are the one who is avoiding the world, but it hasn’t stopped for you, it never has! Especially because you have people who care about you! You would know that if you would answered your phone when your friends called,” Kyra rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

“Why is it so hard for you to be kind and patient with yourself?” Kyra asked, looking genuinely confused, trying to find the answer to her question on Y/n’s face. “It’s so easy to treat you well, I don’t know why you find it so difficult.”

Kyra finally took a deep breath, and then another.

“Okay, I’m calm now. I’m sorry,” Kyra said, unclenching her fist. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I know you’re frustrated and angry right now. I just wish you’d be more compassionate with yourself and your body.

The room was silent.

“I’ll just… go then. I have to be at training in half an hour anyway,” Kyra took a step closer to where Y/n was lying, she dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “Just don’t—rot in bed the whole day, ok? I’ll buy you some food and send it over at lunchtime so you can eat something other than crisps”.

Y/n felt her skin warm where Kyra had kissed her. She barely had time to process it before Kyra pulled away. “Okay, thank you,” Y/n whispered, she couldn’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

She should say something, she should say how sorry she was and how ungrateful she had been, Kyra didn’t complain about having to put up with her. Often Y/n felt that she didn’t deserve to have Kyra by her side and now was one of those times. She felt embarrassed by the way she just acted.

Y/n wasn’t someone who felt at ease with vulnerability. She didn’t normally let people see her at her lowest, except her closest friend, of course, but even now the thought of seeing them, of going back to Arsenal, even if for a few hours, felt excruciating.

It was as if life was mocking Y/n. Everyone’s life would go on, even if hers was frozen in time. Arsenal still had good and healthy athletes to train.

Kyra still had responsibilities to attend ttoY/n didn’t, not for the months ahead of her.

Eight months the doctor said, eight months until (and if) she could run. Would she be this bitter for that long? Was she going to stay frustrated with everything and everyone forever? Was she going to shut herself off from her teammates—her friends—if she didn’t heal the way she intended?

Change was a slow process, but Y/n decided to start it right now.

“Ky?” Y/n called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m being an idiot,” Y/n admitted.

Kyra smiled. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologized. Small steps.

“It’s fine, you are a lot meaner when you lose at UNO, it didn’t scare me.”

Both girls smiled at each other.

Kyra held no grudges; it was one of the things Y/n admired the most about her.

“But if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll let me do something,” Kyra added, mischievous in her voice.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What?’

“You’ll see,” Kyra said before leaving the room. “I’ll be back around 3 pm, see you!”

Y/n heard the front door close, and now she was alone. Y/n thought she enjoyed being alone, but deep down she didn’t. She missed Kyra when she was away. The house no longer felt warm and comforting; instead; it felt cold and isolated.

Y/n thought about Kyra’s words; about her being kind to others and not to herself. When Beth and Viv tore their ACLs, Y/n committed herself to take their dogs on a walk every day, since the couple couldn’t walk.

When Vic got injured Y/n made sure she was left alone during the physio sessions. When Leah also tore her ACL she made sure to call her every day to see how she was doing; Leah, unlike Y/n, answered her calls.

Y/n had so much love and support around her. She needed it to allow herself to receive it.

Y/n looked around her room. It felt strange now. Before her surgery, she had thought the room was rather cosy, with its green walls and light wooden furniture, but now it felt like a prison.

Maybe Kyra would agree to put on a mattress in the living room and make it into a bed. Then both girls could just sleep there, and watch some films. It would probably bring Y/n some comfort.

..

Hours later Kyra came back from training wearing a black kit. Her hair was in a ponytail, with grass and dirt on it. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was because of their fight earlier, but Kyra seemed different somehow . Even though Kyra was all dirty, y/n couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked. She realised she hadn’t seen Kyra with her hair in a ponytail before, she always wore it in a bun. It was nice, maybe the new hairstyle was the reason why Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Cute, Kyra is cute.

She has always been cute, of course, but in the last few days, she looked even prettier. It’s okay to think your friends are cute. It was normal. Y/n thought to herself as Kyra bent down to take out her shoes, the black legging hugging her body. The book Y/n had in hand long forgotten.

Hot. Y/n thought. She was hot.

Maybe it wasn’t okay to think your friends were hot.

“Sorry?” Kyra asked turning to face Y/n.

Y/n widened her eyes. “What? Y/n said, her cheeks flushed. Fuck, had she said that out loud? And why did she sound so defensive? Chill out. “I didn’t say anything., she said, in a calmer tone, closing her book.

“Yes, you did,” Kyra insisted, looking at her with a smile. She let her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulder.

“Nop! You’re going mad, I’m afraid.” Y/n asserted, chin up.

“It must be all the time we spend together, then” Kyra raised a brow.

A lot of time together, indeed.

“Wait, is that a book? I haven’t seen you with a book for a while, I’m proud you still know your letters.” Kyra continued, a smirk on her face

Kyra was right, thought. With football and national camps, she hadn’t had time to read. It had been embarrassing years since she picked up a book. But now she had time, so she just took advantage of it.

“Haha you’re so funny,” Y/n said dryly. “You told me to do something nice for myself, so I decided to read this book I had lying around,” Y/n said, proudly.

Kyra looked dramatically surprised. “Wow, you actually listened to me? Did something happen while I was gone? Did you fall? Oh, you might have brain haemorrhage!”

“The ability you have to turn a normal conversation into a sarcastic one will always blow my mind,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“Good thing I love to blow your mind,” Kyra said before realizing the double meaning of what she just said.

The girls stared at each other.

“Okay that was awkward,” Kyra mumbled, blushing. “I mean it like—”

Y/n laughed, thinking it was cute how embarrassed Kyra looked. Usually, Kyra was the one who put people in awkward situations.

“It’s all right, I got what you meant,” Y/n said, offering a small smile. “So—” She changed the subject, not wanting Kyra to feel uncomfortable. “What was that thing you wanted me to do so you can forgive me?”

Kyra looked at her watch. “You won’t have to do anything. But they will be here soon.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “Did you get that line from some horror film? Who the hell are they?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun, I’m trying to be mysterious here”.

“You sound suspicious, not mysterious!”

“Oh, shut up, just sit there and look pretty, no more questions, please.”

Y/n welcomed the compliment “Why, because you won’t be able not to tell me?” She challenged.

Kyra was the worst secret keeper she had ever known.

“You know me so well actually!” Kyra said. “Stop asking questions. I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be right back,” Kyra said before heading upstairs.

Don’t go. Y/n almost said. Almost begged her to keep that kit on so Y/n could just look at her for a few moments.

The thing was: Y/n got used to having Kyra around, not just because she needed Kyra’s help to get things done, but because she just…appreciated her presence.

Y/n was always bored to tears while Kyra was away for training or a match day, so when Kyra came home, Y/n wanted her all to herself. Which was a bit strange.

Kyra Cooney-Cross was making Y/n think of very, very weird things. She wasn’t necessarily upset about it, though.

Minutes later Kyra stepped out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and an Arsenal hoodie. Y/n welcomed the sight more than she’d ever admit. Kyra was pretty, prettier than yesterday and the day before that.

Was Y/n suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? Could that be the reason she was fancying Kyra? As it genuinely finding her attractive and not a bets mate type of way?

Kyra was attractive, of course. But Y/n hadn’t realised just how much it messed with her mind, and mostly her body. Kyra was her friend. Not as in a friends-with-benefits thing, but oh they could be, Y/n would be happy about that.

Kyra moved in to help me out, that’s all. She doesn’t like me that way, and that’s fine. Totally fine. Y/n bit her nails, trying to convince herself.

Before Y/n could spiral any further, Kyra clapped her hands and told Y/n to get ready, because apparently, the visitors they were having over were about to arrive.

An hour later Alessia and Leah stopped by with a warm lasagna on Leah’s hands.

It turned out that Kyra was only forgiving Y/n if she agreed to meet some of their friends and socialise for a few hours. “It’ll do you good” Kyra had said.d

“Hey, pest,” Leah greeted Kyra at the door. “How’s your pest doing? She hasn’t been answering mine or Lessie’s messages for a while now, is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“Well good evening to you too, Leah,” Kyra said ironically, letting both Leah and Alessia in, after kissing Alessia on the cheek.

“Why can’t you be like Alessia, she is so nice!” Kyra pouted, pointing at the blonde girl, “She doesn’t call me a pest or anything.”

Leah laughed and handed Kyra the lasagna. “Lessie girl is too nice to ever tell you the truth.”

Kyra and Leah continued their bickering while Alessia made herself at home. The girl was very familiar with Y/n’s house, having spent many film night’s here with Y/n and Kyra before Y/n’s injury.

Alessia went into the living room, where she found Y/n sitting on the couch, crutches propped up to the side.

“Less” y/n said cheerfully.

“Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” Alessia sat by Y/n’s side, hugging her. “God, I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Y/n smiled and leaned further into Alessia’s embrace. “I missed you too, I feel like dying every time Kyra goes to training and I have to stay here by myself., Y/n confessed.

“Oh, so you miss me when I’m away. That is so lovely to hear!” Kyra's mischievous voice filled the living room as the girl elbowed Leah, “See, I told you she wasn’t bored of me yet.”

“Take me with you, Less, please.” Y/n playfully whispered in Alessia’s ear before the girl’s body was replaced by a taller and leaner one.

Leah hugged Y/n and patted her back before lightly smacking the top of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Y/n whined, pouting.

“Me, Beth, Less, Kim—we’ve all been texting you non-stop, and you won’t text us back!” Leah scolded. “We’re not just your teammates, we’re your friends, in case you forgot!”

“Tough love. Told you.” Kyra chimed in from the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Kyra,” Leah and Y/n said in unison.

Y/n kept her eyes down, feeling a little embarrassed. Leah wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past week, she’d only been texting two people: her mom—because otherwise, she’d probably sent the police down; and Kyra—so she could pick up some snacks for Y/n on her way home.

“I know being injured is hard, but you can’t isolate yourself, especially form us!” Leah continued with a gentle reprimand. “You’re only going to feel worse.”

Leah pointed at Alessia, who was now standing next to Kyra. “Lessie told me you didn’t laugh at the memes she sent you! It’s Less, mate—you can’t make Lessie sad.”

If Y/n wasn’t being lectured by her captain, she would’ve laughed at how Leah was using Alessia’s sweetheart personally to make Y/n feel remorse about being a bad friend.

“Also,” Leah continued, now turning to Kyra. “Can you imagine how hard it is to rely on someone like Kyra for updates? Yesterday, she thought it’d be funny to tell Steph one of your bone screws had come loose.”

Y/n snapped her head towards Kyra, who suddenly looked like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t even get screws in my surgery! The doctor used locking compression plates instead!” Y/n argued.

“Well, you tell that to Steph,” Leah said dryly. “She cried and said we should call the surgeon responsible for letting you leave the hospital with a loose screw in your leg before Kyra finally told her she was just joking and that you were fine at home.”

“I didn’t think she would actually believe it,” Kyra winced, looking away, a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Steph got back at Kyra, don’t worry, Y/n,” Alessia added smiling. “Kyra is now responsible for walking Win every day before training.”

“I hate walking,” Kyra mumbled.

“Should’ve thought of that before messing with Steph,” Leah smirked.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood!” Kyra groaned.

“You don’t always have to fix things with jokes,” Y/n said smiling. “But I appreciate you are—at some point— giving updates to the girls. Still, leave that to me, I’ll start texting you guys back. I am sorry” Y/n apologized, glancing at Leah and Alessia.

“It’s all right kid, we’ve all been there, injuries bring out the worst in us,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Now can we please eat the lasagna Lessie has made us? I’m starving!”

“You made your lasagna?” Y/n asked, her mouth-watering.

“Sure did. I know it’s your favourite,” Alessia said with a wink.

“May you be blessed for all eternity, Less,” Y/n said with an utmost stone face. “It’s been days since I’ve had good food.”

Kyra helped Y/n with her crutches before asking, a firm hand on her lower back. “Days? I’ve been making nutritious meals for us since you got back from the hospital!”

“Putting frozen pizza in the oven isn’t ‘making nutritious meals,’” Y/n teased, accepting Alessia’s hand as she sat down on the dining chair.

“I’m trying my best here,” Kyra huffed, crossing her arms.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. And I appreciate it very much.” She smiled.” Now let’s eat before Leah passes out from hunger.”

..

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

[whispsofwind]

I am probably (definitely) kicking the hornet's nest but... I feel like there's a disconnection in how people approach HP because I've seen so many people say "but aren't the books explicitly anti racism? How can the author be all those bad things if her books are explicitly anti racism?".

And the point is... they're not. At least they weren't intended to be: the whole pure blood thing is less about race, and more about the ridiculous "noble blood" classism that still exists in England. And once I got that I completely revaluated my interpretation of those books.

I loved those books as a child, and I am not going to sit here and tell they're all vad, because they're not. They ARE a cultural phenomenon that shaped both pop culture and Internet culture for the last 20 freaking years, though. And they will continue to do so, if nothing else because outside of the English speaking sphere, PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT JOANNE'S HATE CAMPAIGNS. Like I cannot emphasise enough, not English speaking people often don't know.

And therefore I feel it's important not only to speak up about the author, but also analyse where the books succeeded or failed, and why.

The elves were adapted from the brownies... with disastrous results, especially if you consider Hermione's campaign. The metaphor with licantropism is an absolute disaster. The way in which muggles are presented (either evil, stupid or both) is ... also not a good look, considering the context. The series is genuinely morally confused, I dare say. It professes the importance of Love TM while also refusing to take a critical look at its own dystopian world building.

Death of the author, or separating the art from the author, are also not supposed to be an absolute frame of reference. They are literary analysis tools that allow you to analyse a work without taking the will of the author into consideration (example: CS Lewis was deeply Catholic and intended Susan not going to Narnia in the end as a metaphor for loss of faith. However maybe I want to analyses Susan's arc in light of misogyny, and the correlation between sexuality and loss of innocence, rather than religion. I am literally ignoring authorial intent to do so, but it's a very valid reading).

However I feel like you cannot analyse any work of art in an absolute vacuum, and expurging the author from the art completely feels, to me, rather simplistic.

I am also not entirely comfortable with the idea of Death of the Author being used as a frame of reference for the relationship with the work AND the author, rather than being used as a simple literary tool.

I always felt like the better approach is to evaluate how to cause less damage and bring the most happiness all around. Does buying the work of Lovecraft cause any harm in this world? I would argue not, since the man is well enough dead. Does buying HP products, or Orson Scott Card's works, or Silvana de Mari's books, cause harm? I would argue yes, because these authors use they money and their platforms to attach real, vulnerable people in a systemic way right here right now. Does SPEAKING about those works cause harm? Does engaging with the fandom aspect of them cause harm? That's more complicated. Critical analysis of a work is, imo, always a net positive, and there's the very real fact that some people pour their hearts and souls into a fandom because it genuinely brings happiness to them and to people around them, and because it allows them to enhance the original world in order to ACTUALLY address the issues that were ignored. That cannot be discounted. However, at the same time it cannot be ignored that talking about a work keeps it alive, which keeps it marketable; then again, fandom's impact on ... anything large scale is negligible when compared to, again, thousands upon thousands of people across the world who don't look the author up, don't engage critically with the text, and just think the Hogwarts Lego Model looks super cute. Which is, like, 90% of the population.

I suppose the main conclusion is nuance: morality is complicated, and making the "morally right" choice is nuanced, deeply personal, and I am not going to judge anyone because they want to reread Harry Potter or want to watch Good Omens Season 3 or whatever, because the world and our impact in it is much more complicated than "person bad, therefore damnatio memoriae good".

hey do you think you could expand a bit on separating the art from the artist? clearly you’ve done it with jk rowling but what are your thoughts on it as a general idea?

okay, but you’re not going to like the answer.

here’s the truth: you can’t separate the art from the artist. not entirely. HP Lovecraft was an incredibly talented, but much more incredibly racist man. It would nice to say you don’t agree with his views but you can enjoy his works without that leaking in but…. well, I’m afraid that would be misunderstanding his books entirely.

Consider, for a second, that Lovecraft’s works were horror stories about extradimensional alien monsters having mutant children with humans, they were about invasions from distant monsters, they were about the purity of quaint European towns being tainted. Consider how this may have all been inflicted by the fact that he just simply despised anybody who wasn’t white. Consider how is opinions on “mixing the races” might fight into this; consider why being unable to maintain the “purity” of white Europe was the scariest thing of all to him.

This extends to Rowling too.

I would love to say we can just acknowledge that she is an awful, racist, antisemitic, transphobic person and then say “but at least her books are good,” because, well, they are, aren’t they? I would say so, for sure. But to suggest that one can separate her from them is…. ridiculous.

Consider why an antisemitic woman wrote about a species of goblins who live among us, but who for the most part keep to themselvesand are maybe a little bit oppressed by the institution, but also hold all the cards, all the money, run the banks.

Consider why a racist woman would write about a species of slaves who loved being enslaved, who enjoyed working for no pay, and cleaning up after humans, with the only small caveat of that they didn’t want to be beaten. Imagine that only the most radical of their species wanted to be free, and he still spent the rest of his life working for no pay and helping out a little white boy and his friends wherever he could. Consider why the only person in the story who thought they should be free, that they should have rights, was treated as an overzealous joke, who was acting against the wishes of those slaves who really LOVE being enslaved. Consider that Rowling went on to say that she kind of considers that girl to be black, now.

Consider why JK Rowling, an open and proud transphobe, wrote Rita Skeeter as having a large square jaw, thick “manly” hands, and dressing incredibly gaudily with the most obvious fake nails and fake teeth and fake hair and fake everything. Consider why a woman who tweets about how trans women are “foxes pretending to be hens to get in the hen house” might write this Rita Skeeter to then illegally transform her body in order to spy on children.

Harry Potter is full of Rowling’s bigotry, start to finish. Not even tangentially, like, “oh the goblins are bad, Rita Skeeter is bad, the house elves are bad, but most of it’s good!” because the deeper you dig and the longer you think the more you realise the entire story is based on her prejudices.

Harry Potter pretends to be an aracial story about found family, but if that were true, why are Harry’s distant ancestors important to who he is today even in the seventh book? Why does Harry have to live with his cousin and aunt and uncle? Because magic inherently prefers blood ties. Whilst Rowling was writing a story that seemed to say, “your heritage is not that important and doesn’t make you better than others” she was still writing a story about a boy who got all of his money through his bloodline, who was protected by living with his bloodline, no matter how evil, who was uniquely able to stop Voldemort because his bloodline passed down the invisibility cloak for generations and generations. Any step Harry takes he is compared to his perfect parents who were exactly like him — he looks just like his father, but he has his mother’s eyes, you know! — consider WHY a woman who is racist might’ve written a story like this. A story that on its surface, condemns a blood caste, but still in every step it takes, validates the idea that blood is thicker than water, and your geneological origin is what makes you special.

You can enjoy Harry Pottwr, of course you can. There are fantastic parts. I love a small group of teenagers deciding to become anarchies rebels and train to fight against fascism in secret. I love the murder mystery plots, I love how the series tells kids that it’s a good thing to be brave, and a good thing to fight injustice, and a good thing to challenge the government. But I cannot separate it from its author because it is such a product of its author. All of the structures of the world, the way things work in the universe, and drenched in Rowling’s beliefs, her bigotries. Of course they are: she made them.

Again. This doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy it. But I think we are past the day where we can pretend that disavowing a bigoted author is enough, and that that somehow separates the text from its bigotry. I think we are past the day where we can pretend that Harry Potter isn’t a deeply, inherently bigoted piece of media. Even the bits we love. I think we are beyond the day where we can truthfully pretend to separate it from her, because she is present through all of it. We MUST recognise its flaws. We MUST admit that she is in every part of it.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

hi!! I had an idea for a funny/ prank type fic for frat boy jaehyun!! It’s that one trend where the girl talks about getting a wax appointment (or some other appointment) after a really long time and plays it off as a guy waxes her which usually gets the significant other really confused thinking “a guy waxes you..?” I HOPE U KNOW WHAT I MEAN 😭😭 have a good day💞💞

anoooooon!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS IDEA!!!!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ what do you mean, he? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: f!reader, TikTok trend, profanity sugestive, Jaehyun is such a fucking loser (affectionate) in this)

where the girl talks about getting a wax appointment (or some other appointment) after a really long time and plays it off as a guy waxes her which usually gets the significant other really confused thinking “a guy waxes you..?”

"Oh baby!" You sing as you push that door open to Fratboy!Jaehyun's room.

It's a handful of days before his birthday now and all week you've been doing the prep you need for a very romantic and heated night with your own Valentine Boy. You'd gotten your nails done, been doing face masks, done a few hair masks, gotten your eyebrows done, and finally today, "guess who got her coochie waxed!"

Your exclamation is met with a "hell yeah!" from down the hall and a flushed Jaehyun scrambling away from his desk to shut the door behind you.

"Ok, love the news, love the mental image, but what did we say about announcing things like that around here?" Jaehyun asks with rosy cheeks.

"But you guys talk about your dicks and balls all the time, why can't you hear about my coochie?"

"Trust me Sweets, I want to hear about her day and night, but I don't want everyone else to hear about her," Jaehyun chuckles while pressing a kiss on your cheek.

You throw yourself onto his bed, turning to watch him settle back into his chair. He rubs your calf softly, "how was it?"

"Hurt like a bitch, but I'm getting used to it. Ash is pretty good about soothing the pain and has good tips for aftercare and all that," you explain.

"Ash? Didn't you used to go to a Jane or something?"

You smile at him, finding it endearing that he listens to what others would consider to be useless details, "yeah, but Jane is on maternity leave, so now I'm seeing Ash. He's good too—"

"He?!" Jaehyun exclaims with his eyes wide with shock.

"Um, yes, he. Is that a problem?" You ask with a confused tilt of your head.

"A guy waxes you, Sweetheart?"

"What is so confusing about this? Yes, my waxer, Ash, is a guy." You state, still not understanding what his incessant questioning is about.

"Sweetheart, another guy is looking at your... lady bits. Like all up and intimate up there while you're probably like spread eagle and showing yourself to him. Shouldn't you only be like that for me?" He asks, speaking slowly and softly in the hopes that you'll understand his point of view better now.

You roll your eyes and push his hand off your leg, "Ash is a 50 something year old gay man who is married and talks about the recipes he most recently made while he's ripping hair out of my 'lady bits'. Can I make it any more clear that he's not interested and more importantly, I'm not either!"

You stand from the bed, throwing your hands up as you continue, "I mean, hello! I got waxed for you! For your birthday! Duh!"

"You know I don't need you to do anything like that. I'm sorry Sweetheart," Jaehyun apologizes, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer to him until he can nuzzle his head against your stomach, "I just went a little crazy thinking about another guy looking at my girl..."

"Your girl? Jae, guys look at me all the time—" you say with a look of confusion until you're interrupted by a single finger against your lips.

"Not you, my girl," Jaehyun mumbles, dragging his finger down from your lips to the waistband of your pants, "her my girl."

You push his head away with a scoff, "oh fuck off, Jaehyun. Coochie privileges revoked until your birthday."

"Damn..."

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

HELLOOO👋🏻

Since your requests were open could you do a Leona x fem!reader??

Where the reader is initially wary of men due to past experiences back in her world. So when she's in twst world (more specifically in NRC) she's cautious around boys, but Leona notices and tries to gain her trust. Alot of people misunderstood him being a player, womanizer, mean cruel man etc when he's actually not like that. I guess you're my only hope for a Leona x reader request lololol 😭

Hope you have time to do this req!

Thank you for the request! I've been itching to write more Leona content, and you gave me an excuse to take a moment away from my The Rain series to do so! (I've had a somewhat similar idea rolling around in my head for months, but I'll save that for another fic ;))

I tried not to let the story or its themes veer too far off into. . .unsavory directions/topics, but some things have to be at least acknowledged in a vague way when discussing this topic. I tried to do so as respectfully as possible, but if I failed, please tell me so I can do better!

Synopsis: Fem! Reader who is wary of men grows to trust Leona.

TW: mentions of the reader having previous bad experiences with men, but I tried to keep it rather vague; reader has anxiety about being in a school full of men as well as having to stay with them in the events of book 3; reader gets chased by a guy that wants to beat her up near the end, but Leona steps in (I tried not to make it a princess in distress situation, but tell me if it comes off too much that way)

Being thrown into an unfamiliar world is awful. Being thrown into an unfamiliar world and being stuck in an all male school there? You had to question what kind atrocities you committed in your past life to deserve this fate.

It took you a while, but you managed to make. . .friends here. However, even those bonds were rather unsteady and fragile.

It's not that you hated men. You were simply wary of them. You had had past experiences that were. . .unsavory: being catcalled, the uncomfortable conversations with men who approached you in scarcely populated gas stations at night, the jokes no woman in her right mind would find funny, and even some experiences that to this day keep you up at night wondering what your fate would have been if you had done even the slightest thing differently.

You tried to trust the clearly good-hearted people who you logically knew had no ulterior motives hidden behind their kindness, but it was hard. Traumas are not easily forgotten or healed.

That's why, when the events with Octavinelle went down, you were on the verge of hyperventilating. You were friends with Ace and Deuce, and you trusted them as much as you could muster yourself to allow, but that was them. You didn't know, and certainly didn't trust, everyone who resided in Heartslabyul.

Jack's offer didn't seem much better to you, but when it came down to it, you didn't exactly have any other options.

The arrangement ended up being that you would stay with Leona in his room. You weren't sure if you'd prefer this over staying in a packed room with more people.

He barely acknowledged you, or, at least, it seemed that way at first. As your short time staying with him passed, you noticed some things. For one, Ruggie always complained that when he was waking up Leona, the lion wouldn't even wait for Ruggie to get out of the room to begin getting dressed, but Leona had always changed in the bathroom connected to his room for as long as you had stayed there. He also never got too close to you; and when anyone else did, he'd come up with a conveniently timed task for them to do. He didn't use his bathroom for anything other than changing while you were there, and instead used the dorm showers, leaving you his bathroom to yourself.

Don't get me wrong, he didn't go easy on you. He simply respected you and your right to space and privacy. You aren't sure if this was simply how he was raised, if he had noticed your wariness and acted so as not to worsen it, or if it was a mix of both.

By the end of your stay in Savanaclaw, you had somehow managed to find a sense of security in being there with the lion.

As time passed after your stay at Savanaclaw, you found yourself continuing to sit in the botanical garden during lunch. When Crowley decided you would be required to join a club, you joined the Spelldrive Club as a manager. On the rare occasion you had joint alchemy classes with Leona's class, he was unexpectedly present to class and would always 'begrudgingly' agree to be your partner.

However, what really cemented him in your mind as someone who could be trusted was the incident.

You had to stay after school as Grim had caused trouble again and gotten the two of you into detention. You were allowed to leave a bit early as you hadn't caused as much trouble, and you did because you had errands you had some items you needed to pick up from Sam's shop before it closed for the night.

As you walked through the hallways, you were distracted making a mental grocery list. In your somewhat spacey state, you bumped into another student.

He accused you of bumping into him purposefully and it soon became clear he wasn't planning to let you go unscathed. He was massive compared to you, so you knew that if things were to get physical you wouldn't have a great chance of coming out of things on top, so, you did the only thing you could do at the time and ran.

The other student shouted after you and took chase. You ran for what felt like an eternity. Your legs burned so bad you were astonished you were still managing to take steps, and your lungs felt as though they were on the verge of imploding. You weren't consciously thinking of where you were going as you ran, but you found yourself approaching the botanical garden with the other student hot on your heels.

Telling yourself that if you just gained a little more distance you'd be able to find a spot in the plants to hide without him noticing, you urged your legs to pick up the pace.

However, luck wasn't on your side, and, when you got into the garden, you tripped over an uneven brick on the path and toppled face first into the unforgiving stone. You skidded painfully across the bricks, your knees and palms being skinned in the process.

You did your best to scramble to your feet, but your legs had finally given out.

"Gotcha."

You heard a sickening voice not that far away as footsteps approached you at far too fast a rate for you to crawl into a bush before he reached you.

It was when you were searching the foliage on the sides of the path that you noticed what you had at first mistaken as a stick laying in the path, but upon further inspection you realized to be a tail.

You took in a deep breath before screaming "LEONA!" and praying it would be enough to wake the lion.

"The hell are you babbling about!" The voice of the other student snarled before you felt a harsh grip on your collar yank you up. "I was originally just gonna make you pay up for bumping into me so rudely, but after that chase you put me through, I think my fists have some anger pent up."

You ducked your head and braced for impact, but it never came. What did come was a soft warmth that caught you and held you up once the student's hand had finally released its grip on you. When you opened your eyes, you saw a clearly ticked off Lion.

He had one arm snaked under your shoulder and around your stomach to keep you up, and his other had a firm grip on the guy's wrist.

You were too dazed and hyped up on adrenaline to take in the words the two exchanged, but you swore you heard a crack moments before Leona let go of his wrist. The guy fled and were sure that if he were a beastman he'd have his tail between his legs.

You were torn out of your daze by an uncharacteristically soft, but still gruff voice: "Can you walk?"

It took you a moment to form words, but you eventually managed to reply: "I'm not hurt, but-"

Before you could finish your sentence, your legs were swept out from under you. A brief "'scuse me" left Leona's lips as he picked you up, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in your chest.

Seeing the shift in your expression, Leona sighed "Look, I know you like your personal space, but you can't walk and I'd feel like crap if I left ya out here, so I gotta carry you to the infirmary. I woulda asked, but it's not like I could get ya there any other way. You can punch me later if ya want."

The trip to the infirmary was silent. Thoughts raced through your head, but one of the most prominent was: "I called out for him."

You had no other choice but to come to terms with the terrifying realization that you trusted this man. For better or for worse, you trusted him. . .and while it scared you, it also bloomed this warm feeling in your chest.

You let your head fall against his chest as he carried you, and if he took note of that, he didn't let it show.

After you got checked out at the infirmary and reported the incident to Professor Crewel (because we all know Crowley is too incompetent at his job to do anything), Leona walked you back to your dorm.

The two of you never verbally acknowledged the events of that day again, nor did you talk about the feelings that came with them.

He was never not there after that, and you didn't mind the company.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you write something about looking into Jason’s wallet and seeing a picture of yourself there?

Awwww! This is so adorable! Of course I can!

You honestly had not a single clue what you would find within Jason’s wallet, not that it was something you gave much thought into as it wasn’t something that you ever want to look through to begin with, but here you were in the last situation you thought you’d ever find yourself put in;

Looking into Jason’s wallet that was perched atop of the counter in the kitchen you’ve just walked into for a light snack. Jason’s wallet wasn’t anything special, just a standard wallet that had been used, and yet you couldn’t help but become a little curious about it the longer you looked at it.

‘This is stupid I’m not looking through Jason’s wallet.’ You say to no one in particular as you were the only one who was home, Jason had left to do something but must’ve left his wallet behind on accident, yet you felt as though you had to somehow explain yourself to some higher behind for every little thing you did and thought of like you were being under constant scrutiny; constantly having to defend your character from an unseen court.

You went back to your original task at hand and opened the fridge door, retrieving the snack that you had been craving for a while now, and just as you were about to walk back towards the living room where you were watching whatever was on the telly you once again felt the compelling need to look inside Jason’s wallet. What would you find exactly? Other than money and the other necessities a wallet was originally made to hold, you highly doubt you’d find anything that was worth snooping through a personal belonging of your beloved boyfriend’s to begin with.

You knew it would be stupid to do so but yet despite giving yourself all the reasons as to why it would be pointless to peak inside Jason’s wallet, you already had it wide open in your hands and what you had found staring back at you would always have you smiling like some lovesick loser. It was a picture of you. You were sprawled out on the bed you shared with Jason, dressed in one of his hoodies that he was insistent that you’d look the prettiest he’s ever seen, giving him and the Polaroid camera the middle finger because he had ripped away the bedsheets that were aiding you in combating the cold.

‘Of course he would, the sappy, loveable man.’ You murmured as your heart warmed at the idea of Jason opening his wallet when he was missing you, smiling down at the photo he kept and reminding himself that he had something to come home to at the end of the day; a piece of domesticity that he had always wanted his entire life and now he had finally got it. ‘You sappy, loveable man.’ You repeated again softly this time as a smile coder up on your face, wondering where you’d be without experiencing the love of a man as sweet and gentle as Jason Todd.

‘Who you calling sappy wallet stealer?’ Your smile widened upon hearing Jason’s teasing tone and went to look at him with a knowing glint in your eye as you waved his wallet in your hand.

‘Who you calling wallet stealer, sappy man when you’ve got a picture of me in your wallet, it’s almost like your in love with me or something. How embarrassing.’ You teased as you showed Jason the picture and watched as his eyes widened a little bit before softening as he crossed the kitchen to grab you by the waist, pulling you against his chest as he smiled into your head where he pressed a lot of kisses.

‘How embarrassing indeed.’ Jason chuckled, holding you tighter against him, loving the way you fit against him and how effortlessly you made him feel loved, looked after and wanted in ways where words would only fail. ‘If being in love with you is a crime then I’m guilty on all charges.’ He adds cheekily as he gave you kisses across your forehead and across your face before finishing off on your lips as he hummed in content.

‘Dorky, literature sappy man.’ You grinned against his lips.

‘Wallet stealer and snooper.’ Jason retorted as he too smiled against your lips.

[merchantziro]

This was Danny's final shot, he honestly didn't have that much ecto left in him to keep enchanting metal. This city didn't have much, it was concerning it generated ectoplasm as is without a Ghost Portal as far as Danny knew but... Not his monkeys, not his circus.

So he built the portal outside the city, hoping it was somewhere secluded where those furries won't bother him this time.

Phantom finally got the portal set up and just needed to find a power source, so he left for what would hopefully be the final time to gather up some sort of power source, however right when he was returning...

B O O M !

Danny heard an explosion in the distance, that sounded like it came from-

The ghost boy ran back into his hideout, but was immediately kicked to the ground by one of the costumed jerks.

"No... No!"

Danny looked over at smoking and burning remains of the portal. They seemed to be asking him something but Danny neither understood what they were saying nor cared enough to say anything.

However what he did do was collapse to his knees, this was the final straw that broke the Halfa's back.

"Why? Why do you keep doing this?"

The costumed heroes paused before one reached out to him...

"Art thee tis fine...?"

...But Danny smacked the hand away with a growl.

"Get out..."

The man flinched back at the venom before the smaller one, a child that might be almost Danny's age, raised a sword.

"Thou art the one with the League, whatev'r grandfath'r is planning wonneth't cometh to fruition!"

The Halfa then looked at him coldly before wailing.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

A green shockwave came from his mouse and knocked them into a wall. They raised their weapons and prepared to battle, but Danny then just turned away to the portal as tears formed in his eyes before collapsing to the ground sobbing.

"I just wanted to go home..."

That made the costumed freaks pause before looking at each other confused, not really knowing what to do. As the ghost boy cried himself until he fell asleep.

--- Hours Later ---

Danny woke up, only to find one of his tormentors, the one in a black and blue suit, was watching over him in a room that looked like a guest bedroom as he was laying on a bed. Though this time he looked concerned.

"Art thee good now?"

The ghost boy just glared before grumbling.

"...Why do YOU care all of the sudden? You sure didn't care before?"

"T appears we might has't misund'rstood thy intentions, and we wanteth to fixeth yond misprision."

"You want to what?"

Danny tilted his head before noticing a woman with a purple outfit enter the room, she had tan skin, green eyes, and poofy red hair that looked long and vibrant.

"This the one thee hath asked me to holp thee with right, Dick?"

She asked the man before he nodded, the woman turned back to him before getting closer as she puckered her lips

"Good now holdeth still, this shall only taketh a moment."

Danny immediately flinched back reflexively but couldn't react or speak fast before feeling the woman kiss him briefly on the lips. He could also see the man turn away, looking grumpy.

However the moment AFTER they broke, he was coughing and gagging.

"Ugh! What the hell was that for, I'm only 15 and not interested in whatever weird kinky shit you-"

"Do you understand me better now?"

Danny paused when he heard her speak English back to him.

"Uh? ...Yeah? How did you"

The woman nodded.

"I apologize for scaring you, Tamaraneans like myself have the ability to learn other alien languages through oral contact."

"Wait Tama-what now? Wait, I kissed an alien!?"

The woman giggled at Danny's stuttering realization, while the man continued to watch the conversation from the sidelines.

"Indeed, I am Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, but you may call me Starfire."

"Uh... Danny, Danny Fenton of... Well it's complicated."

Danny felt his cheeks burning green because, concerning potential age difference aside, holy shit kissing an alien princess almost makes this all worth it and he's gonna brag to Tucker and Sam about it for a week when he gets home!

...Home...

The memory of the ruined portal immediately caused Danny to slump back into his chair as he turned back to the man.

"So what? After every time those guys destroyed my attempts to make a portal, NOW they decide they want to talk when I lost my final chance!?"

He folded his arms and looked away, the man flinching at his outburst.

"...There might have been a misunderstanding with your intentions and nature. Tell me, do the terms Lazarus Pits or League of Assassins mean anything to you?"

"The Who Pits and League of What!? No, Ancients no!"

Danny raised an eyebrow and looked genuinely baffled by the question.

"Well according to what Nightwing told me, they believed you were using an old form of their dialect and thus believed you were with them. Tell me then where did you learn it?"

"Uh? This is English? I don't know why everyone else speaks like old Shakespearean novels in this world but at least it's English back in my dimension?"

"I see... So then I assume you were just trying to build a portal home?"

She placed a hand onto Danny's shoulder, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Y-Yeah... And... That was my last shot. Because I needed to use Ectoplasm to imbue the parts in order to make the portal into the Infinite Realms so I could find my way back."

This caused the man to take a deep sigh as he's having a slow burn realization of something before resting his head on his arms.

"Oh mine own god we couldst not has't fuck'd this up any m're if 't be true we hath tried..."

Step 1: Get stuck in another dimension. Step 2: build a portal back to the Ghost Zone. Step 3: Leave.

Danny's got it down to a science at this point. It barely takes him a week to get back home. (Except for the time the dimension he landed in was in the stone age, but we don't talk about that.)

Step 1 was easy enough, if involuntary. Now, step 2 is where it's all going wrong.

This dimension's language isn't one he speaks. That's fine, maybe adds a day or two to the search for parts, but the main problem is the people dressed in Halloween costumes, speaking like they're from a Shakespearean play who always find him and wreck his portal.

And it's not like he can just move to a different city, this one's soaked in ectoplasm. He'd have to spend a pretty fair amount of time searching for another place as saturated as this one.

Meanwhile, the Bats are not having a good time. Some League or League-adjacent member speaking a barely intelligible form of the League dialect keeps attempting to build some sort of weapon in Gotham, and refuses all communication in English.

(AKA: Danny is stuck in another dimension where his English is their League dialect. He just wants to go home now, please.)

[lov3notts]

yours, always

summary: draco’s gift to you for valentines

a/n: i’ve decided to release the other boys stories, theo is next :)!!

mattheo’s version; draco’s version; theo’s version

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

Hogwarts on Valentine’s Day was a spectacle. The Great Hall was filled with floating pink and red decorations (courtesy of Professor Flitwick’s overenthusiastic charms), enchanted roses whispered love notes to passersby, and heart-shaped confetti drifted through the air. It was sickeningly sweet—at least, according to Draco.

"Honestly, who thought pink was an acceptable color for the ceiling?" he muttered as the two of you walked through the castle corridors.

You rolled your eyes. "It’s festive, Draco. You don’t have to act like it’s a personal attack."

"It is a personal attack. On my eyes, my dignity, and my ability to keep my breakfast down." He shot a glare at a pair of Hufflepuffs giggling over a stack of enchanted chocolates before turning back to you.

"Speaking of which, you’re not expecting me to do any of that ridiculous Valentine’s nonsense, are you?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Of course not. I know you, Malfoy. If you were going to do something, you’d act like it was my idea and then pretend you weren’t trying too hard."

Draco’s smirk twitched. "You wound me, love. I am a man of mystery."

You snorted. "You are a man of dramatics."

He gasped, clutching his chest. "I see how it is. I pour my heart into this relationship, and this is what I get."

You rolled your eyes fondly, nudging his shoulder. "Come on, I have to get my Potions book from the common room before class."

He followed you without question, hands stuffed into his pockets as you made your way to the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was mostly empty, the fire crackling low in the hearth. You were halfway to your dormitory when Draco suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

"Wait."

You turned, eyebrows raised. "Draco, what—?"

Before you could finish, he placed something into your hands—a small black envelope, sealed with silver wax and a small velvet box.

You blinked, looking down at it. "What’s this?"

Draco shrugged, but his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. "Just open it, will you?"

Curious, you carefully broke the seal and pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment. As your eyes scanned the words written in his elegant, slanted handwriting, your breath caught.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.

You should know by now that I don’t do grand romantic speeches. I’m not going to stand on a table in the Great Hall and declare my undying love for you—mainly because McGonagall would have me scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of my life. But I will say this:

You are the only thing in this castle that makes any of this ridiculous nonsense bearable. You make me laugh when I want to hex someone. You challenge me when no one else dares. And somehow, despite my many, many flaws, you still choose me.

So, this is me choosing you. Today. Tomorrow. Every day after that.

Yours, always.

— D.M"

Your heart clenched. You read the note twice, then again, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things. You slowly opened the velvet box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet, its charm a tiny serpent curled protectively around a shimmering emerald.

"It’s charmed," he said, voice softer now. "To keep you safe. And warm, if you ever need it." He hesitated, then added, "I had it made for you."

You blinked, surprised. "Draco… this is beautiful."

When you finally looked up, Draco was watching you, his usual smirk softened at the edges, warmth flickering behind his eyes.

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stumbled back slightly but caught you with ease, his arms tightening around your waist.

"I take it that means you liked it?" he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips "You’re an idiot, Malfoy."

"Charming."

"But you’re my idiot."

His smirk returned, but this time, it was warm. Real. He cupped your face, brushing his thumb against your cheek before leaning in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. "Happy Valentine’s Day, love."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, dray."

And as much as he complained about the holiday, you knew—without a doubt—that this was the best one he’d ever had.

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©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.