#it’s so embarrassing to admit to having feelings

[miihho]

can do headcannons for Myung-gi? Thank you 😭😭

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) sfw

Myung-gi / Player 333

—HE'S THE KIND OF GUY who found himself in fights more often than he’d like to admit. His past was a tangled mess of mistakes and choices that led him down this path. Most times, when he was beaten down, no one cared enough to stop. They’d walk by, eyes averted, pretending not to see him lying there, bruised and exhausted. The pain was familiar, but it was something he had learned to endure alone. So when he found himself on the ground once again, bloodied and sore, he didn’t expect anything to change. He didn’t expect someone to stop and help.

But then, through the blur of his vision, he saw you. Standing there, glowing like something out of a dream, your eyes full of concern. “Are you alright?” you asked, your voice soft, but it was filled with genuine concern. He blinked, shaking his head as if to clear the daze.

“Yeah…” he muttered, wincing slightly as he grabbed your hand and tried to stand. “It didn’t hurt that much.” He forced a weak smile, brushing the dust off his clothes, but his body was screaming from the blows he’d taken. You didn’t look convinced, your eyes scanning him with a frown. “You have bruises everywhere,” you said softly, taking in the sight of his battered form. “You need help, can i treat you?"

He wanted to refuse. He wanted to push you away and tell you it wasn’t worth it, that he was just someone who always ended up in situations like this. But your steady gaze stopped him. He nodded, letting you lead him away from the scene, knowing this would probably be the first time someone would care enough to make sure he wasn’t left to bleed out in a corner.He didn’t expect much—just a quick fix for the bruises. But as you carefully cleaned his cuts and bruises, your touch gentle and your voice soft, something inside him shifted.

The way you didn’t rush, the way you took your time, treating him with more care than anyone ever had, started to break down the walls he’d built around himself. His body still ached, but there was a warmth in his chest, a quiet comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t falling in love with you right away. But in that moment, as you tended to his wounds and your eyes met his, something began to grow, slowly and quietly—an unfamiliar feeling, one that made him want to stay just a little longer.

—He’s the type of guy who keeps a distance from everyone, always a little cold, a little aloof, because it’s easier that way. He’s learned to build walls around himself, to guard his emotions, keeping people at arm’s length so he won’t get hurt. It’s become second nature—familiar and safe. But when it comes to you, everything shifts. You become the exception to the rules, the one who manages to break through the armor he’s so carefully crafted.

In your presence, the ice that’s kept him safe for so long begins to melt. The walls that once seemed impenetrable start to crumble, piece by piece, as he finds himself opening up in ways he never thought possible. It’s a vulnerability he’s not used to, one that both terrifies and comforts him in equal measure. For the first time, he doesn’t have to pretend. With you, he can just be. And it’s that warmth, that quiet shift in his soul, that makes him realize—maybe letting you in wasn’t as frightening as he once thought.

—He's type of guy who’d get nervous around you, never having interacted with a girl properly before. This whole thing was new to him. He would rehearse a simple greeting in front of the mirror, repeatedly stumbling over his words.

"Hello, nice to meet you again," he'd say, practicing until it felt right.

But the moment he saw you, standing there, his mind went blank. Flustered, he blurted out, "Meet hello again."

His face flushed red with embarrassment, and without a word, he quickly walked off, leaving you laughing softly at his awkward charm.

—Hes the kind of guy who would drop to his knees with tear-streaked cheeks, begging for another chance. The kind of guy who would plead, his voice trembling with desperation, asking you to take him back.

— He’s the kind of guy who melts under your touch, leaning into the soft strokes of your fingers as they weave through his hair. With you perched on his lap, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, he looks up at you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world. His eyes, brimming with warmth, trace every feature of your face, and his smile—soft, tender, overflowing with affection—speaks the words his heart can’t contain. To him, this moment is everything: your closeness, your comfort, the quiet intimacy of being held by the one he loves.

—He’s the kind of guy who would drop everything at a moment’s notice just to make you happy. If you told him you wanted your favorite food, he wouldn’t just order it—he’d make sure it came from the best place, double-checking the details so it’s exactly how you like it. If you said you wanted something more, he’d move mountains to find it, his every action steeped in quiet devotion.

—He’s the kind of guy who would hold your bag without hesitation, tie your shoelaces if they came undone, and memorize all the little things that make you smile. If you said you were cold, he’d wrap his jacket around you without a second thought, even if he ended up freezing. If you called him in the middle of the night, needing someone to talk to, he’d show up at your door, no matter how far or inconvenient it was. If you mentioned something you like, he’d make a mental note and surprise you with it later, just to see the joy in your eyes. He’d stay up late if you needed him, wake up early to make your mornings easier, and cancel his own plans just to be there when you need him most.

For him, your happiness is worth everything. He doesn’t just listen to your words—he treasures them, acting on them like they’re his life’s purpose, because loving you isn’t a chore; it’s his greatest joy.

—He’s the kind of guy who pays attention to the tiniest details about you. Like the songs you hum when you’re happy, the exact shade of your favorite color. He remembers your birthday without needing a reminder, but he also knows the little anniversaries you don’t expect him to, like the day you first met or the first time you smiled at him in that special way.

He’d go out of his way to buy you things that match your favorite color—not just big gifts but the little ones, like a keychain he spotted at the store or a pen because he remembered you needed one. He’d surprise you with your favorite snacks on bad days and bring you flowers that match the hues you love, just to see your face light up.

—He’s the kind of guy who listens intently when you talk, even if it’s about something small, and he brings it up later to let you know he was paying attention. He’d notice when you’re feeling off, even if you try to hide it, and he’d do whatever it takes to make you feel better—whether it’s running to get your comfort food, wrapping you in a blanket, or just holding you until the world feels a little less overwhelming.

To him, it’s the small things that matter most because those details are what make you you, and he wants to love every single one of them.

—He's the kind of guy who stumbles over his words when you get too close, as if your presence is too much for him to handle. You don't realize how his heart races, a frantic rhythm he can't control, every beat echoing the weight of your nearness. He tries to pull away, but it's impossible—you're the only thing that makes him feel alive.

—He's kind of guy who would stay away from you for months, not because he wanted to, but because he believed it was for your safety. He worried endlessly that if anyone saw you with him, they’d make you a target—hurt you just to get to him. The thought of putting you in danger was unbearable, so he chose the distance, even if it tore him apart inside.

—Myung gi is the kind of guy who’d make you believe he has pure intentions, but the truth is far darker. He wants you all to himself—every moment of every day, your laughter, your smile, your touch. It's all his in his mind. The thought of anyone else having even a fraction of you fills him with jealousy, and he’ll do anything to keep it that way. You’re his everything, and in his eyes, no one else deserves a piece of you.

—He’s the kind if guy who secretly craves being treated like a precious little one, wanting to be praised for being good, his heart swelling at every word of affection you give him. When you look at him with that soft, loving gaze, calling him "baby" and showering him with overly sweet pet names, something inside him melts. It's not just the words, it's the way you care for him—like he's fragile, like he’s yours to protect. He acts tough on the outside, but deep down, he’s soft for you. Your attention, your affection—it’s everything to him, and he’s more than willing to be the one who melts under your love. He’d give anything to hear you speak to him like that forever.

(he's so IWBWIWHWIWJ😭😭☹️👊🏻)

[cafem3wcuryy]

౨ৎ ━━━ AYE AYE, CAPTAIN

━ characters: kuroo, bokuto, ushijima, oikawa, daichi, kita

━ sum: bumping into their (hallway) crushes, then finally confessing.

━ tw: fem!reader, sfw, unestablished relationship

lowercase intended!

m.list

━━━ KUROO TETSURO

⤷ kuroo would probably deviate a plan to try and bump into you 'coincidentally' and apologizing before saying, "i was distracted and couldn't see you" when he was actually just standing there waiting for you to round the corner

⤷ kuroo would purposefully run into you throughout the halls of nekeoma, trying to make small talk with you, then no hesitation would ask if you want to hang out outside of the school.

⤷ after a few times of hanging out outside of school, kuroo would ask you if you want to watch the team play volleyball. even sneaking in, "we don't have a manager either, soooo" hoping you would catch on and apply to be manager.

⤷ kuroo would start lowkey flirting with you, but would get embarrassed when you wouldn't pick up on his flirting.

"are you okay? you're staring at me a little intense." you ask him.

"yup, your face is just so stupidly cute."

"did you just call my face stupid, kuroo?"

⤷ kuroo would soon start getting teased by his teammates whenever they see him walking with you to school, calling him a 'simp', but he proudly admits that he is for you.

⤷ kuroo would look at you smugly when you start flirting back with him, teasing you for 'ultimately falling in love with someone like him', then would start complaining when you bring up his failed flirting attempts in the past before he became straightforward.

"don't look at me like that when one of the first few times you've tried to flirt with me, you said my face looked stupidly cute."

"c'monnnnnnnnn, [name]... when will you ever drop that?" kuroo whined.

"when you stop teasing me whenever i, embarrassingly, flirt with you."

⤷ kuroo would be the one to start falling even harder for you, unable to keep going with the endless flirtings, wanting to confess his feelings for you.

⤷ kuroo finally decided, planning to confess his feelings at the end of the day, but would get impatient and tell you while you guys are at the aquarium.

"[name]."

"yes?" you turn to him, his face slightly red.

"i like you."

⤷ kuroo would immediately bring you into a hug, and would kiss the top of your head when you tell him you like him too.

"does that mean if i ask you to be my girlfriend, you'll say yes?"

"obviously, tetsuro."

━━━ BOKUTO KOUTARO

⤷ bokuto would be telling a story to akaashi, using his whole body to tell it as well and accidentally hits you as you were walking past.

"OH MY! I'M SO SORRY!" bokuto exclaims, grabbing your face between his large hands, inspecting it.

"n-no worries..."

"bokuto, please stop touching her. i think you're making her uncomfortable." akaashi grunts, having to pull bokuto away from your personal space.

⤷ bokuto would tell akaashi on how you're his crush while freaking out because he accidentally hit you, as well as invading your personal space and making you uncomfortable. (you weren't)

⤷ bokuto would soon search classrooms, looking for your's during lunch so he could apologize to you again and try to make up for it, eventually finding your class.

⤷ bokuto would do anything and everything to make up for hitting you, soon looking for you during lunch time throughout the week hoping you would find something he could do to redeem himself.

⤷ bokuto would continue to hang out with you during lunches even after you had told him what to do to redeem himself, enjoying your company and presence even more, even making akaashi join the two of you occasionally.

⤷ bokuto would look for you in the stands at his games after he hits a spike, and when he gets blocked he looks toward you to see you giving him a thumbs up while mouthing 'it's okay, try again' to him, making him even more fired up.

⤷ after winning his game, bokuto will excitedly runs up to you, bringing you into a hug, lifting you up off the floor before blurting out his feelings to you out of pure excitement.

"DID YOU SEE THAT, [NAME]?! WE WON!" he shouts excitedly.

"i'm so proud of you, bo!"

"HEY! SINCE WE WON, LET'S GO OUT!"

"h-huh?" you stammered.

"I LIKE YOU, [NAME]! LET'S GO OUT TOMORROW, OKAY?!"

⤷ after saying yes, bokuto would run around the gym yelling.

"AKAASHI, SHE SAID YES!"

"bokuto, please stop yelling, people are staring..."

━━━ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

⤷ ushijima first saw you talking to your best friend in the hallways and was immediately entranced with your smile.

⤷ ushijima would unconsciously look for you in the hallways of shiratorizawa, and when he would see you, his eyes would never leave your figure.

"whatcha looking at, ushiwaka?" tendou smirks, poking his bicep.

"nothing."

⤷ ushijima wouldn't be discreet about how he looks for you, making tendou tease him, soon his interest in you would spread across the team like wildfire, which he then learns your name.

⤷ ushijima spotted you in the stands at one of his games and immediately began feeling giddy.

⤷ ushijima would score a point and would make eye contact with you, giving you the tiniestt smile which you immediately notice.

⤷ ushijima would finally approach you in the halls and just stand there until you notice him. (which is immediately bcs he is huge)

"eh?"

"apologies if i startled you. may i talk to [name] alone?"

you and your best friend share a look of confusion, before they leave you and him alone. "would you like to exchange numbers?"

⤷ ushijima would text you everyday, never failing to wish you a good morning or a goodnight as well as sending you text messages of when and what time he would have a game, hoping to see you there.

⤷ ushijima would come into terms with his feelings for you, telling tendou that he plans on confessing his true feelings to you, which tendou would immediately blab about to the team.

⤷ ushijima would approach you during lunch, bringing you outside to confess his feelings to you.

"i like you," he nods. "i wanted to be transparent with my emotions with you."

"i like you, too."

⤷ ushijima's chest would swell with happiness as he smiles at you, making your heart melt.

━━━ OIKAWA TOORU

⤷ oikawa had spotted you talking to hanamaki and matsukawa one morning, thinking you were very attractive and expected you to start swooning over him like his fangirls when he walked over to the two of you.

⤷ oikawa thought you were shy when you walked away from the two when you saw him walking over.

"aw, why'd she leave?" he pouted.

"she doesn't like you." hanamaki snickered, making matsukawa laugh.

⤷ oikawa was determined to make you like him and tried to make your paths cross with him whenever he saw you around the school, and would initiate conversation with you.

⤷ oikawa would start getting annoyed from the amount of times he would be interrupted because of his fangirls and would lowkey start boiling whenever they inserted themselves into your guys' conversation.

⤷ oikawa would start flat out ignoring his fangirls whenever they came around and only kept his eyes on you, following you if you were to start walking away when you saw them approaching.

⤷ oikawa would get your number from matsukawa and would start texting you nonstop, asking you to hang out with him after his practices, pitching the idea you watch him during practice so you guys can walk home together.

"oikawa, i live in the opposite direction."

"it's okay! i like talking to you, [name]!~"

⤷ oikawa would obnoxiously point at you whenever he scored a point if you were watching with a smirk, making your heart flutter, but you would roll your eyes at him.

⤷ oikawa would walk up to you after winning the game with a grin.

"let's go on a date! i would say i deserve it for winning."

"go with one of your fangirls or something, trashykawa."

"noooo, i wanna go with you!~" he pouts.

"celebrate with your teammates, how about that?" you roll your eyes.

"but i don't like them, i like you, [name]!"

⤷ oikawa would bring you into the tightest hug when you would agree, practically skipping over to the rest of the team and gushing about how he has a date with you.

━━━ DAICHI SAWAMURA

⤷ daichi would see you walking kiyoko the gym, and would try to be nonchalant on asking kiyoko who you were.

⤷ daichi would see you hanging with kiyoko a lot, and would pretend to ask kiyoko things about later's practice just to see you and try to talk to you.

"hi, im daichi sawamura, karasuno's volleyball captain."

⤷ daichi would start asking kiyoko things about you, and would bring you up to her without even noticing it.

"what class is [name] in?"

"does [name] watch our games?"

"is [name] in any clubs?"

⤷ daichi would begin stuttering and turn red when kiyoko would ask if he has a crush on you, but would immediately perk up when she asks if he wants to hang out with you guys sometime.

⤷ daichi would compliment you whenever he passed by you in the halls, and would start small talk.

⤷ daichi would be very respectful whenever he hung out with you and kiyoko, earning him brownie points from you and kiyoko.

⤷ daichi would ask for your number, and would text you constantly, even during school, asking you how are your classes and if you were busy after school.

⤷ daichi would put in the maximum effort when he saw you watching one of the games, hoping to impress you.

⤷ daichi would become irritated on the downlow when nishinoya and tanaka saw you talking to kiyoko after the game, and when they both started fanboying over 'two goddesses', then would scold them for being animals.

⤷ daichi would decide to confess to you on a random weekend after he caught himself thinking of you while he was out and about doing errands.

⤷ daichi would show up to your front door with a bouquet of flowers.

"daichi? what are you doing here?"

"i just wanted to tell you that i have liked you for quite sometime," he clears his throat. "and i was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me."

⤷ daichi would sigh in relief when you agreed, giving you the flowers with a wide smile and red cheeks.

⤷ daichi would start running home excitedly, while smiling widely after you went back into your home after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

━━━ KITA SHINSUKE

⤷ kita saw you in the hallways once when he went to meet up with his teammates for lunch, finding you absolutely breathtaking.

⤷ kita had bumped into you a few days after, immediately apologizing to you with a slight blush, asking if you were okay with immense worry in his tone.

⤷ kita would start seeking you out discreetly, but was caught by aran when he saw kita looking at you so fondly.

"who is that?"

"who?" kita tried to brush off, making aran roll his eyes.

⤷ kita would go up to you one day after school at your shoe locker, asking if you wanted to exchange phone numbers because he wanted to get to know you.

⤷ kita would text you every night, asking about your day and what kind of foods did you like so he can make you some when he could, leaving it on your desk the next morning with a note.

⤷ kita would start approaching you throughout the day, engaging in a conversation and asking how the food was to your liking.

⤷ kita would start giving you small snacks and treats with a note on your desk every morning, and would walk you home after your clubs.

⤷ kita would write you a love note, telling you how he feels on your desk with a few flowers that reminded him of you.

⤷ kita would wait for you outside of your classroom with a bento box in hand and another flower, nervously fumbling with the cloth of the bento box.

"did you like it? the letter, i mean...?"

"of course i did, kita. i like you, too."

⤷ kita would burst into a wide smile, handing you the flower and the bento box, walking beside you with a hand on your lower back as you two walked to somewhere else more isolated to eat your lunches as the twins, suna and aran cheered him on from the corner.

note(s):

requests are open gang

[thef1diary]

dirtbag!carlos is filthy…. I LOVE IT

can you do one with inexperienced reader and he loves how timid she is?

— thank you!! I’m loving the innocent reader aspect a lil too much lately 🫣 18+ content below

Carlos always had a way of making you feel small—not just in stature, but in how effortlessly he unraveled every ounce of composure you thought you had. You were sitting on the edge of his bed now, naked, your thighs pressed tightly together, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to avoid his gaze. It was impossible, though; Carlos had a presence that demanded your attention, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

“You’re always so shy with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost teasing, as he kneeled between your legs. “But you’ll let me see everything tonight, huh? All mine to play with.”

Your face burned as he spread your legs gently, his large hands firm on your thighs. The cool air brushed over your already soaked folds, making you shiver, and he chuckled low, the sound vibrating straight to your core.

“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, his thumb grazing lightly over your clit. The simple touch made you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. “You’re dripping, nena. Tell me, have you ever been this wet for anyone else?”

“N-no,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I’ve never—”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into that cocky smirk that made your knees weak. “Never let anyone touch you like this before?”

You shook your head, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I’ve only tried… by myself,” you admitted, your voice shaky.

Carlos’s smirk deepened. “Tried?” he echoed, sliding his thumb lower, just barely brushing over your hole. “Couldn’t make yourself cum, could you?”

You shook your head again, biting your lip as embarrassment washed over you.

“That’s because these pretty little fingers of yours weren’t enough, princesa,” he murmured, lifting your hand to kiss your fingertips. “You needed someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone like me.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over your soaked folds. “But this tight little cunt,” he muttered, almost to himself, “it’s not ready for my cock yet. Might be too much for you to handle.”

Before you could respond, his tongue flicked out, gliding over your clit in a soft, experimental stroke. Your hips jerked off the bed, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“Easy, nena,” he murmured, his voice muffled against you. “I’ve got you.”

He took his time, his mouth moving against you in slow, deliberate strokes that made your head spin. His tongue pierced through the haze of pleasure, the metal ball grazing over your sensitive nub with just enough pressure to make you whimper.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, tugging helplessly as he sucked gently on your clit, his tongue working in languid circles that left you trembling.

“Hmm,” he hummed against you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still. “So fucking sweet. You’ve been hiding all this way, haven’t you?”

You nodded weakly, unable to form words as he doubled down, the warmth of his mouth overwhelming. He spread your folds apart with his tongue, dipping into your hole before returning to your clit. The soreness of your untouched cunt melted into pleasure, an intense heat building low in your belly that you’d never felt before.

“Let go for me,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Show me how good I make you feel, princesa. I want to hear you scream my name.”

And then his mouth was back on you, relentless and unyielding, his tongue and lips working in perfect sync until the knot in your stomach snapped. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your hands clinging to his hair for dear life.

When you finally came down, he pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, his smirk returning as he sat back on his heels. “Told you, didn’t I?” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You just needed me to teach you.”

“Can you teach me more?” You asked, almost timidly, and were met with a wicked smirk from him, already revealing his response.

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[babyflorencee]

More Than Friends

Nerdrry x Cheerleader!Reader

Harry adjusted his glasses nervously as the football game carried on around him, the noise of the crowd buzzing in his ears. He wasn’t really paying attention to the scoreboard; his focus was fixed entirely on the sidelines where Y/n stood, pom-poms in hand, the brightest smile on her face as she cheered with the rest of the squad. She always looked happy during games, but tonight she looked radiant. The floodlights illuminated her like something out of a heavenly dream, and Harry found himself unable to look away.

He knew it wasn’t smart—falling for his best friend. Y/n was popular, the kind of girl everyone wanted to be around. And Harry? He was the nerdy kid who got shoved into lockers a little too often and spent more time in the library than he did talking to people. Still, somehow, Y/n had decided he was worth her time. They’d been inseparable for years, and every single day he reminded himself how lucky he was to have her as a friend. Just a friend.

But lately, being just her friend wasn’t enough anymore.

Harry sighed, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself as he forced his eyes away from Y/n. He didn’t stand a chance. Why would she ever look at him that way when she could have anyone else—like, say, the football player currently strolling over to her with a cocky grin plastered across his face?

Harry froze, his stomach twisting as he watched the interaction. The guy leaned in close, saying something that made Y/n laugh—a genuine, full laugh that Harry usually got to hear when they hung out. And now, here she was, sharing it with someone else.

The football player said something else, pointing toward the bleachers, and Y/n's eyes scanned the crowd. For a moment, they landed on Harry, and she smiled brightly, waving at him like she always did.

Harry waved back weakly before quickly looking down at his sneakers.

He felt sick.

***

Y/n found Harry sitting alone after the game, a half-empty bottle of soda in his hand as he stared at the ground. She sat down on the bench beside him with her usual enthusiasm, nudging his shoulder with her own.

“Hey, what’s up? You look like someone just shoved you into a locker.”

Harry managed a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Y/n squinted at him skeptically. “You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been acting weird all night. Did something happen?”

Harry shook his head, unwilling to meet her eyes. “Nope. Everything’s great.”

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “Okay, spill it. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry mumbled, fiddling with the label on his soda.

“Is this about that football player?” Y/n asked suddenly.

Harry flinched, and Y/n's eyebrows shot up. “It is, isn’t it? Harry, seriously, what is going on?”

“It’s nothing, Y/n/n,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “Can we just drop it?”

“No, we can’t drop it,” she shot back, her tone a mix of confusion and frustration. “You’re my best friend, H. If something’s bothering you, you can tell me. That’s kind of what I’m here for, you know?”

Harry looked up at her, and the concern in her eyes almost undid him. She was so kind to him, so effortlessly warm, and he didn’t deserve it—not when he’d been jealous all night like some moody, selfish kid. He ran a hand through his messy curls, finally meeting her gaze.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said with a weak smile. “I promise.”

“Harry,” she said softly, her voice laced with patience, “just tell me. Please?”

He hesitated, feeling his pulse quicken. She was so close, watching him with such kindness, and he felt like he might break apart under her gaze. He looked back down, his fingers fidgeting with the cap of his soda bottle. “I just… I don’t like seeing you with guys like that,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It… it makes me feel weird.”

Y/n blinked, her expression softening. “Weird how?”

Harry let out a shaky breath, his cheeks burning. “Because… I care about you. I mean, I really care about you. And seeing some guy like him flirting with you just… I don’t know. It makes me feel small.”

Y/n stared at him, her face unreadable. “H… are you saying you like me?”

Harry swallowed hard, every instinct telling him to backpedal, to laugh it off, to change the subject—but the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Yeah. I do. But it’s not a big deal, okay? I get it—you don’t feel the same way. You don’t have to say anything.”

“Why would you think that?” Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

Harry let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/n/n. Just look at you. You’re gorgeous, and funny, and confident, and… I’m just... well me. I’m a mess. I’m awkward, I’m not very good-looking, and I… I know you’re just trying to let me down easy. And I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Harry,” Y/n said sharply, “stop it.”

But he couldn’t stop now; the words kept tumbling out like a dam had burst. “It’s fine. Really. You’re too nice to tell me the truth, and that’s okay. I’m not mad. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me or something because I’m—”

Y/n grabbed his face and kissed him.

Harry froze completely, his thoughts screeching to a halt. When she pulled back, she fixed him with a firm stare, her face flushed. "Harry, stop it."

“You… you kissed me,” Harry stammered, his voice cracking. “Why… why did you—”

“Because I like you, you oblivious dork,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “And I don’t want to hear you say one more word about me pitying you, or you not being good-looking, or whatever nonsense you’ve convinced yourself of. Because I think that you’re really, really cute.”

Harry gawked at her, completely at a loss. “You… think I’m cute?”

Y/n laughed softly, nudging him playfully. “Yes, H. I think you’re cute. I’ve always thought you were cute.”

Harry's face turned bright red, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Y/n teased, grinning at his dumbfounded expression.

Then it hit him—really hit him. Y/n liked him.  Y/n liked him back. His face split into the biggest, most ecstatic smile she’d ever seen, like the sheer force of his joy might launch him into the stratosphere. “Oh my God,” he breathed, laughing giddily as he ran both hands through his hair. “You… you like me? You actually like me?!”

Y/n giggled, watching him in amusement as he practically bounced on the bench. “Yes, Harry! I just said that!”

“I can’t believe this,” Harry said, shaking his head with wide eyes. “This is—this is insane. I mean—you—you’re you! And I’m—oh my God, this is the best day of my life!”

Y/n laughed so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “You’re such a dork.”

Harry let out a joyous, breathless laugh, turning to look at her with hearts in his eyes. “Yeah. But now I’m your dork.”

Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling as her laughter softened into something warmer. “Yeah, you are.”

[eiralunaire]

Dick was sitting on the couch in the common room at Wayne Manor, checking out a coffee he'd ordered for delivery, when Damian walked in with his typical serious expression. Grayson looked up with a sly grin; his younger brother was about to receive news that would make him explode.

“Damian, little bro, I need you to block your schedule for tomorrow night,” Dick said, his tone casual, as he stirred his coffee.

“Why?” Damian asked, frowning.

“I got you a date.”

Damian stopped in his tracks abruptly, his green eyes glaring at Dick.

“A what?”

“A date. With Reader,” Dick replied, matter-of-factly, as if he'd just said the weather was nice.

Damian's silence was deafening. His jaw tensed as he processed the information, but his discomfort was evident.

“I don’t need you to butt into my personal life, Grayson.”

“Of course you do.” Dick stood up from the couch and crossed his arms, staring at him. “You’ve been obsessing over this girl for years, following her, investigating her, and you haven’t done anything about it. Nothing! For God’s sake, Damian, you’re twenty-five, not sixteen.”

“My reasons for investigating Reader are professional,” Damian replied, his voice firm.

“Professional?” Dick let out a laugh. “Since when is looking at pictures of her in lingerie ‘professional’? Because from what I saw in your room, it looks more like a… very detailed study.”

The color rose to Damian’s face.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes I do. And I’ll spare you the embarrassment of having to explain yourself further. Reader has agreed to meet with you tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be honest with your feelings this time.” Or at least take the opportunity to clear everything up.

Damian spent the rest of the day in a state of controlled irritation. Though he hated to admit it, a part of him was curious about what Reader had to say. However, the thought that his older brother had arranged all of this was deeply humiliating.

“Grayson is an idiot…” he muttered as he looked through his wardrobe. He didn’t want to look too formal or too casual. In the end, he opted for a fitted black shirt and dark trousers. Something simple but elegant.

Before he left, he looked at himself in the mirror one last time, adjusting his watch.

“It’s just a conversation. Nothing more.”

The date took place at a discreet, elegant restaurant that Dick had booked. Reader arrived first, wearing a cream-colored skirt and jacket set that made her look sophisticated and professional. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, with loose strands framing her face.

When Damian walked in, he saw her sitting at a table near the window. She was looking at her phone indifferently, but when she looked up and saw him, her expression remained neutral.

“You’re on time. That’s good,” Reader said, as he sat down across from her.

“I’m not in the habit of keeping people waiting,” Damian replied, his tone dry.

She took a sip of her wine before speaking, her gaze fixed on him.

“I know we’re both in our twenties, Damian, and we’re adults. So I’m going to be direct with you.”

Damian frowned, taken aback by the bluntness of her tone.

“Your brother Grayson told me that you’ve been researching me for years. That my photos from when I was a model “inspire” you. And that leads me to wonder: why so much interest in me?”

Damian kept his composure, though the discomfort was palpable.

“My interest has nothing to do with those photos.” My interest lies in who you are and what you do.

Reader watched him for a moment, as if evaluating his answer.

“Fine. Then I propose this: if it’s true that you have no romantic interest in me, let’s have sex and you’ll end your obsession with following me.”

Damian stood completely still, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What?”

“Yes, sex,” she repeated, matter-of-factly. “It’s a fair exchange. Or… if you want to court me, I won’t object. But if not, this is the most efficient.”

The tension in the air was unbearable. Damian didn’t know whether to feel insulted, impressed, or completely baffled.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he finally managed to say.

“No, Damian. It’s a practical solution.” Reader leaned back in his chair, his gaze direct. But, if you're not interested in either option, we can pretend this conversation never happened.

Damian rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to regain control of the situation.

"I'm not interested in something as superficial as meaningless sex."

Reader arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her response.

“So, you want to court me?”

Damian held her gaze, finally finding some balance in his stance.

“I want to get to know you. But not on such trivial terms as you propose.”

She stared at him for a long moment before cracking a slight smile.

“Well, Damian Wayne. You surprised me. I didn’t think you would say that.”

The conversation took a more relaxed turn after that, with both of them exploring the meaning behind their actions and the circumstances that had led them here. Dick, meanwhile, watched from afar, proud that he had created the opportunity they both so desperately needed.

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud: Fever

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Nolan Halloway

Universe: Somewhere in Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: hardcore, degradation, humiliation, feminization, mentioned non-con

Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I was going to post something for Christmas, but that's coming much later. I actually wanted to do something wholesome, but it turned into smut faster than I could see, and I lost interest in it, so I wrote a smutty half request instead. (Please don't ask about the logic; there is none) I hope you guys enjoy this one.

You felt uncomfortable even though it fit perfectly, and unfortunately, you had to admit that it didn't look bad on you as you admired yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you coming or not?” Gabe’s deep voice bellowed authoritatively through the locker room, easily reaching your ear.

You swallowed nervously, not wanting to answer, as you knew he would be mad if you were honest. But you took a deep breath because you were even more afraid of his reaction if you didn't answer.

"I don't really feel comfortable showing-"

"Shut up and come out," he shouted, audibly annoyed, "so you can do literally the only thing a stupid fag like you is good for!"

It felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. You felt humiliated on so many levels, and yet you opened the bathroom door, which led straight into the changing room near the showers.

You would be in the locker room if you just walked around the corner. It had been nearly an hour since the football game ended, and the coach handed Gabe the keys to lock the room behind him. The only visible light was the static glow of the lamps in the room, as the sun had long since given way to the moon.

Head down, you rounded the corner with tiny steps. You didn't see Gabe right away, but you became very aware of him when you heard him whistle after you. The first time it happened, you felt exhilarated, even ecstatic.

There, Gabe sat comfortably on one of the benches against the wall. His body was now much more muscular, as he trained twice as much as he used to, but on his lips was the same superior, condescending smirk, still the same, yet so different.

"You look so fucking hot," he commented, beckoning you to come closer to him, which you did.

When you were in front of him, he ordered you to twirl. You saw his eyes darken with lust as he took another swig of his beer bottle. Technically, he wasn't old enough to drink yet, but the football team had some leeway, at least on university grounds.

He emptied his bottle, placed it safely under the bench, and then simply grabbed you by the waist and sat you on one of his legs.

“Look at this skirt,” he said, fascinated by the sight.

You had no idea where he got it, but right before the game, he gave you a backpack with a cheerleading uniform and something else you wouldn't even think about out of embarrassment. Still, you put on everything he gave you.

“Are you satisfied?” you asked, stuttering and uncertain.

“You can be fucking sure of that!” he boasted loudly. "And even more so if a certain slut had listened to me the first time and not made me wait so long!"

There was a danger gleaming in his eyes that you knew all too well. He'll punish you, force you to shout more than just his name, and treat you so roughly that you'll miss class again. Before starting, you knew you'd have to lie to the others again about all the bruises you'd come home with. Last time, your fraternity almost started a manhunt because they thought someone was forcing them on you, but you somehow managed to calm them down, even though you had to admit to some pretty dirty secrets of yours.

You felt his rough hand on your lower back, moving further down to your ass. Suddenly, you let out a yelp as the same big hand gave your behind a hearty squeeze.

“What a perky ass,” he mutters in a slightly slurred voice, “fuck!”

"Don't you want to sit on my lap, baby girl?" His lips were so close to your ear that you almost moaned reflexively. "I know a dirty slut like you would love to know how fucking hard you make me."

Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap. Both his hands were on your waist as he vigorously ground your ass on his lap. You could feel his big cock getting hard and poking you through his tight football pants.

When you heard him moan softly, you felt the heat rise to your face; you had never heard him moan desperately like that before. Usually, he moans like a rutting bull as he relentlessly thrusts his cock into you, but this somehow felt much more intimate.

"Do I have to remind you what I am to you?" His voice, which had previously been filled with lust, was suddenly stern, even cold. You swallowed hard and couldn't answer. "Pretend you can't hear me?" His laugh was dry; you already knew he was done.

Without a word, he pushed you off his lap but held you up, standing in front of him. Just a second later, his large body overshadowed you, with his hands tightened around your waist once more.

"What a cute little girl," he murmurs into your hair, "So small and yet so disobedient."

Your blood ran cold. He seemed angry, even furious, but you didn't do anything that bad, right? But even if you argue with him, it won't help and will only worsen things.

He doesn't say another word. Instead, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. He carried you to some lockers in the middle of the room, sat you back down on the floor, and bent you forward slightly with his other hand while he told you in a barely whispered voice to hold on to the lockers for dear life.

You were already halfway gone from worry and desire—if you were a girl, you knew you would be soaked—now only pre-cum covered the surprise under your short skirt. You truly felt like a slut in that moment, just like Gabe had always told you. Even though you weren't entirely sure what would happen next, you knew you had to hide how much you were already enjoying it.

He traced his rough fingertips over your figure, dancing on your skin like a drunken wisp. By the time they landed on your skirt and took it in his hands, you felt him shudder. Fearing that something had happened, you turned your head only to see Gabe's sinister grin. When he caught your gaze, his intentions were more than clear.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?”

There it was again. At first, you thought he was just maddened from drunkenness, but now it was clear. He was actually feminizing you. You should have known when he made you dress in a girl's cheerleading outfit.

As you were in thought, Gabe covered you completely with his body, pressing his head firmly into your nape, gently kissing your neck, and eliciting soft moans from your stunned body. His hands continued to explore the entire time, finding their way under your skirt and gently caressing your legs, but you were sure that this would be the only time he would be tender with you that night.

And as if you had summoned it, he ripped up your skirt and slapped your right butt cheek with so much force that it almost threw you flat against the locker, only for him to whistle as if nothing had happened.

"Bitch, you look good in lace!" Gabe slurred like the drunken stud he is, so needy and horny that it was hard to believe.

You didn't even know where he got it because the price tag was still on when you got it, and you almost fainted; it was so expensive that you knew he wanted to do this more often, or so you thought.

“I really can’t wait,” Gabe suddenly murmured as he leaned back in his standing position.

With a quick movement, he shifted the tiny piece of fabric that hid your hole to the side, circling it with his finger before attempting to enter it, only to be stopped as it had contracted too much. You could hear him swearing quietly, cursing you and your uselessness.

Before you knew it, Gabe had raised two fingers to your mouth and ordered you to wet them, as that was the only lube you would get.

Without hesitation, you took them between your lips, let your tongue dance on his long, salty, calloused fingers, and finally took them completely into your mouth, feeling them touch the back of your throat.

The second his fingers reached the back of your throat, all you heard was him cursing once again, angry that he didn't use your throat, even though he had trained it for so long not to gag, even when he shoved his huge cock all the way into your mouth with one sharp thrust.

You knew from the beginning that it would make him mad because you knew full well that deepthroating him was his favorite sensation, especially in a crowded university lecture hall.

Gabe only gave you about a minute before he pulled his finger out of your mouth and immediately, with a precision that a drunk man like him shouldn't have, slid his fingers inside your ass. You gritted your teeth, holding back the pain, knowing that Gabe hated it when you showed any emotion other than lust and desire for him.

Without even trying, this guy hit the spot that made your mind go blank for a second, and when you came back, you felt a pain in your forehead. You found yourself in direct contact with the metal side of the locker.

As his fingers aggressively penetrated your hole, a pain shot through your ass. But you didn't complain because that was all you would get before he took you at a pace so brutal that you'd thank God he'd even prepared you in any way, which was already something great of him, as it was something he didn't do all the time.

“That should be enough,” Gabe mumbled, something he probably didn’t even want to say out loud.

Suddenly, you feel him swaying from side to side, the alcohol clearly taking its effect. But he doesn't let that distract him and instead guides his cock, albeit with difficulty, to your hole.

Although you feared the brutal treatment you would receive, you could barely contain your anticipation of feeling him again. It had been a while, and your hole felt empty for quite a long time. As he circled your hole, you quickly became impatient. While you subtly tried to get his cock into you, all you got was a hard smack on your ass, which was glowing a bright red color at this point.

Gabe muttered under his breath, cursing you for being an impatient cockslut, a bitch that needed to be filled. Although it seemed odd to you that he was trying to feminize you, it did something deep inside you.

"You want this cock?" he asked smugly, his words becoming more slurred by the second. "I'll fill you up like the good little slut you are until your belly is full of my child!"

Without even waiting for an answer, he pushed his cock in and didn't stop, even when you felt it was getting too tight, but you knew it would fit, even if it hurt a little. So you bit your tongue and waited for the pain to subside instead of saying anything or even making a sound.

In one forceful motion, his hands wrapped painfully tightly around your hips, just under your skirt, so tight that it hurt, but you still didn't make a sound; he penetrated you.

Only when you finally felt his thick glans pressing against your prostate did you open your mouth, which was usually so large when he hadn't had anything to drink. This drew a long, intense moan from you, which, in turn, elicited a deep, sadistic chuckle from Gabe.

“That's the shit,” grunted Gabe, “Moan louder for me, bitch!”

As you felt another slap and his cock throbbing violently inside you, you were forced to give him exactly what he wanted. You gave him more, moaning sluttily and even going an octave higher than you thought possible, sounding almost like a real girl.

"God... fuck," he muttered quietly as his hands became a little more bearable. "That's my little girl, my good little slut!"

He even went so far as to pet your head, almost making you feel like he really cared about you. But the relentless pace of his thrusts told you otherwise. Although you wished things were different, you knew there would be nothing between you, nothing other than mind-blowing sex, that is.

Gabe's thrusts got even harder, his warm manhood burning so well in your hole, but the worst part for you was how precisely he hit your prostate each time. With every thrust deep into your bowels, barely visible on your stomach, he ripped your senses from their sockets again and again. It was almost torture, but you loved every second of it, feeling like you could fly, breathe underwater, and face the next day as if you had conquered it many times before.

At the limit of your senses, you felt one of his hands moving up your stomach to your pectoral muscles. He squeezes your slightly trained muscle, which elicits a satisfied grunt from him.

For a long moment, it was completely silent; nothing was said, and the only sounds echoing through the room were the rapid, rhythmic slapping of your skins and the animalistic noises Gabe made like the brute he was.

“I’m about to bust,” Gabe suddenly announced, although his breathing and voice were even.

You were speechless; he had never come so quickly and calmly, always out of breath, sweating like crazy. Now, he was none of that.

As announced, it took almost no time before a few thick jets of cum filled your insides with much-needed warmth.

Gabe didn't pull out as he usually would. Instead, you saw his hand on the locker wall next to your head as you returned to the plane of the living, his muscular body hard against your back, and his warm breath that smelled of beer and something fruity, maybe strawberries or something similar. Turning your head slightly, you saw him grinning smugly at you; your heart dropped into your skirt.

Suddenly, you felt something soft on your lips. You couldn't process the sight before you; Gabe was so close, his eyes closed and his sinful lips capturing yours in a gentle, warm embrace. It lasted only a fleeting moment, warm and completely unexpected.

“Such a good, pretty girl for daddy.”

Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You wanted to mock and belittle him for calling himself that, but you didn't. You felt warm and wanted for once. So you let it pass and looked away in embarrassment, but Gabe, with a gentleness you'd never experienced from him before, placed a finger around your chin and forced your head back without much effort.

"Don't look away, baby," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again.

This time, he didn't close his eyes, instead holding eye contact with a knowing glint in his eyes. But you couldn't hold the eye contact for long. You closed your eyes and melted in his embrace. Your tongues quickly entangled with his, clearly more dominant. He pulled you closer to him, both of his hands exploring the front of your body as if it belonged to him.

It wasn't until he separated the two of you that you realized you were no longer standing but sitting safely on Gabe's lap. He was now leaning comfortably against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, flexing his biceps the entire time, clearly visible even through his football uniform. You'd be lying if you didn't feel things you weren't too proud of.

"Now be a good little slut and ride me," he told you arrogantly. "I've made you cum three times already, and I only came once, so keep going, baby."

He massaged your upper body as if calming you down as he spoke. It worked somewhat, but as you tried to follow his orders, you realized something: your legs hurt too much to move. Panic rose in you, afraid of what would happen if he knew. So you tried your best and even put your hands on his thighs, using them as leverage to move yourself up. But your whole body felt heavy.

Before you knew it, your arms gave way, and you fell against Gabe's chest. You heard his angry breathing and felt his hot breath on your neck.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” you admitted sheepishly.

Suddenly, you felt a violent jolt and quickly found yourself on the cold floor. The skirt you had been given and the tight top were already worn out, even slightly torn, not to mention the lace underwear that was already crumpled and almost destroyed.

Gabe towered over you with his fists clenched. "You worthless bitch," he mutters, seemingly ready to dish out the worst punishment. But to your surprise, he just crouches down next to you. "I told you what will happen if you turn out to be worthless and unable to complete your one fucking job, you stupid whore!"

His voice was steady; none of the slurring you heard before was left as if he had never been drunk. Without hesitation, he spat in your face, stood back up, went to his backpack, and pulled out his phone.

Unable to move, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, horror coursing through your veins as you heard the disgusting words he used.

Just as you started to feel your legs again, the locker room door busted open. Loud laughter and energetic, indistinct conversations followed. The entire football team soon filled the room, but no one was looking at you as they greeted their quarterback. Gabe made pleasant conversation before folding his arms across his chest, not glancing in your direction once, just a small nod in your direction and more demeaning words.

When the team first looked at you, they were smug, calling you a needy slut who would even play a girl just to get some cock. Even though you felt bad, they had a point. But you still thought Gabe would say something in your defense, but he didn't.

Instead, even more horrible words came from him: He told his team that they could do whatever they wanted with you since you were useless to him now, but he wanted the cheerleading uniform and underwear back, even if they were in tatters.

You were too stunned, but when you saw Gabe, already changed and leaving, you stretched out your arm and begged him to take you with him. Instead, you only heard a scoff before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

As you were about to lower your hand, one of the boys took it with a wickedly grim grin. He gently stroked your hand, only to tell you to be a good slut to them because they weren't as generous as Gabe and would take drastic measures to make sure you did right by them.

Although you were disgusted and scared, you still nodded. You cried silently as you felt dozens of hands on you and someone supporting you. But when he was about to enter you, you screamed.

***

You woke up weakened, your body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Groaning in pain, you tried to find out where you were, only to find yourself in your fraternity bedroom.

“Thank God you’re awake,” you heard a gentle voice say.

You turned your head and smiled gently. "Nolan, what happened?"

Concerned, he touched your forehead, only to quickly pull away.

"You're not any better," he whispers lightly. "You fainted in one of your lectures, and our university doctor sent you back with Mark because you weren't so bad that you had to stay there. He did give him some medication for you, though."

You wanted to take the pills, but you couldn't move your body, just like in the locker room. Nolan quickly noticed this, put them in your mouth, and helped you drink some water.

You grimaced as the cold liquid ran down your throat, but then a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Did something happen to Gabe or the football team?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

It was immediately obvious that Nolan was uncomfortable. You feared the worst and believed that your dream was actually reality. 

"Gabe came over but left when he heard you were sick," Nolan told you. "I still can't believe you tolerate him taking advantage of you like that."

Smiling and relieved that what you had experienced, even though it felt real, was only a dream, you gently stroked Nolan's hand.

"I wish he loved me as much as I love him, but I'm content with how things are right now," you said slowly, even though your throat hurt. "As long as I'm in this fraternity, I get the best of both worlds: mind-numbing sex with the person I love while also being able to cuddle with you guys and do all the cute couple things without anyone being pressured to feel anything."

Nolan sat there stunned, never having thought about it like you did, but he realized they actually treated you like their partner. All the time outside of class and when you weren't getting fucked by Gabe, they spent with you and your fraternity, cuddling, watching movies, playing games, and going out. None of them even had partners; they were completely focused on you.

You smiled as you slowly fell back asleep but asked Nolan to take care of you. Unconsciously, you laid your head on his hand, causing Nolan to get stuck.

A few hours later, someone else opened your bedroom door.

"Is everything okay?" The new person asked but got no answer. When he walked in, he saw Nolan holding you in his arms. "Damn, I must be late," he commented quietly, chuckling as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. Cursing himself for letting Nolan out of his sight.

[Masterlist]

[freeuselandonorris]

honestly would kill to see your take on any kink ever, but I must admit I haven't been able to get your thoughts on electrostim out of my mind since you shared them so. that one. (+camshow if you're feeling it 👀)

ps.: I did have a good festive season, and I hope you did too!! 🫶🫶

glad to hear it! 🫰 mine has been. mixed. but mostly good thank u!

obviously could not resist this one. enjoy oscar being the stone cold freak for once!

Lando had asked to see it, mainly because he didn’t entirely believe Oscar was telling the truth. 

Oscar was cool and everything. Funny, with a saucy mouth on him once you got to know him. But you had to admit the guy came off as — well. Vanilla. 

So when they’d gotten pissed together on leftover Moët in Lando’s suite and Oscar had picked up the TENS machine Jon had left in there, turned it over in his hands and said, “are you into electrostim?” in tones of nervous delight, Lando hadn’t even considered it might be some sort of weird sex thing.

What the fuck is electrostim? he’d asked, tipping the remnants of his glass down his throat, which meant he didn’t notice Oscar’s horrified expression for a few seconds. 

“Nothing,” Oscar said quickly, but by that point Lando had clocked the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks and perked right up. Even then, he’d figured it was something embarrassing, but not — that. 

He’d not believed it, when Oscar explained it. How you could wire up the same kind of machine Jon used to zap the cramps out of his aching thighs and stick it round your cock. Not that Oscar said it so brazenly. There was a lot of umm-ing and err-ing, a lot of vague hand gestures and stuttering, before Lando got the picture. 

“Fuck off,” Lando said when Oscar finished stammering out the barest of explanations. “Really? You?”

”Jesus, Lando,” Oscar said, somewhere between exasperated and indignant.

“I bet you a hundred quid you can’t,” Lando said. 

Oscar shrugged. “Believe what you like.”

Lando, whose impulse control was bad at the best of times and even worse combined with half a bottle of champagne and a burgeoning stiffy, picked the machine up from where Oscar had dropped it onto the coffee table and held it out. “Show me?”

Oscar gaped at him. He was redder than Lando had ever seen him, but he didn’t look mad or anything. Just — blindsided, maybe. 

“Not now,” Oscar said eventually. His voice came out in a kind of croak, and he cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Maybe — maybe some other time.”

Lando knew a brush-off when he saw one, so he shrugged and changed the subject and tried not to feel too mortified about it. Oscar made his excuses after another glass, sloped off to his own bedroom, and Lando put the whole embarrassing affair out of his mind. 

When his phone buzzed a week later with a text from Oscar, he had to read it twice before he understood it.

Osc 19:48 Hey. I took a video if you’re still interested. No worries if not, don’t want to pressure 🙂

Lando breathed out hard through his nose, blinking at his phone.

lando 19:50 thats the politest sext i’ve ever had yeh i am pls

Osc 19:51 🙄 it was hardly a sext [video attached]

The thumbnail was blurry, a flash of maroon and some squiggles that might be wires. Lando swallowed hard, thumb hovering over the play button. He tapped it.

”Okay,” Oscar’s voice came from the phone’s speaker, quiet. Lando kicked the volume up a couple of notches, watching a confusion of movement. Oscar’s torso, clad in his usual plain t-shirt, and a pair of khaki knee-length shorts, open at the waist. The wires Lando had spotted led out to a hand-held control box, similar to the one Jon used but a different model. 

On-screen, Oscar cleared his throat. “Had it on for five minutes or so already,” he said. His voice was a little shaky, like he was nervous. He swallowed audibly before he spoke again. “So I’m a little — I’m already, you know.” A soft laugh. “Sorry, don’t know how well I’ll be able to, um, talk you through it. Let me just — I’ll just show you.”

He exhaled, audibly steeling himself, and Lando felt himself mirror the action unconsciously. His hands were sweating enough to worry he might drop his phone. He swore under his breath and hit pause on Oscar, heading through to his bedroom and flopping back onto the bed. After a moment’s deliberation, he shoved his own shorts down to mid-thigh. He wasn’t hard yet, but — well. Better to have the option. 

He hit play. Oscar-on-the-screen hummed thoughtfully and then the screen blurred again. Some scuffling sounds that made Lando wince, the screen going briefly dark and then bleaching light again until Oscar came back into focus from the neck down to mid-thigh, standing in what looked like his bathroom with the camera, presumably, propped on the sink. 

“Right, that’s better,” Oscar said, and breathed out again, a short sharp exhalation. “Okay, here goes.” 

He put the control box down, out of shot, and visibly straightened his spine before he pushed his shorts down. No boxers. Oscar, Lando thought admiringly. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.

It took the camera a few moments to focus, but when it did, Lando bit back a groan. Oscar’s cock was thick, semi-hard, and covered in wires. A thick black loop of it cinched tight around the base, and another snug beneath the head of his cock, trailing a black wire. 

“Had it on low,” Oscar said. “I’ll turn it up a bit.”

His hand reached out of frame and adjusted something, and he gasped. His cock jerked, filling out in front of Lando’s wide eyes. Oscar made a soft noise, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he adjusted something else that made his cock jump again, a tiny rhythmic pulse. 

“Ah,” Oscar said. “That’s — about halfway now. Feels pretty intense.”

He adjusted himself with one hand, pulling the top loop of wire a little tighter with the plastic toggle tucked up tight beneath the head. His long fingers hovered for a second, like he was struggling not to jack himself off, help things along. 

Lando let out a string of curses beneath his breath and grabbed himself. He thumbed at the bottom of the screen to bring up the playback bar. Jesus, the video wasn’t even a quarter of the way through yet. 

He watched Oscar’s cock get harder, bobbing in midair. Lando tuned himself into it after a minute or so. He could tell when Oscar adjusted the intensity of the current by the way Oscar’s cock flushed red, jolting against his belly, the veins on the underside pulsing beneath his foreskin. 

Still, it made him gasp when Oscar’s cock blurted thin clear liquid. It trickled down the side of his cock and dropped out of sight. 

“Yep,” Oscar said tightly. “Yeah, it’s. Getting good now.”

“Oh my God, Oscar,” Lando said to his empty room, voice shocked and shaking. 

Oscar hummed again, a low rumble in his chest. When he spoke again, it sounded like an effort. “Sometimes it makes me, uh. I think it stimulates my bladder or something, so — just to warn you.”

Lando let out a shuddering breath, blinking hard at the screen. This was insane. Both of them had clearly lost their minds. He wondered, for a brief paranoid second, whether this was some sort of sophisticated deepfake scam and he was going to have his bank account emptied or his DMs leaked yet again. But no, Oscar had said it to his face. 

“Right,” Oscar’s voice came over the speaker. “Gonna take it up another notch. It’s getting — it’s strong now.” 

Lando could hear it now. A faint ticking sound, barely there, pulsing in time to the jerk of Oscar’s swollen cock. Oscar pulled up the hem of his t-shirt with one hand and clenched his abs, gasping. 

“Ah, jeez,” Oscar gritted out, and on the screen, his cock jumped and let out a spurt of liquid. It spattered wet against his stomach, dripping down. Too far away from the camera to be able to see what it was. 

Lando curled his toes into the bedding. He was wanking furiously now, skin slapping against skin sounding overly loud in the room compared to the processed sound of Oscar’s heavy breaths. On the screen, Oscar’s cock was pulsing rhythmically, drooling clear liquid with every movement. Little droplets ran down the shaft, dripping to the floor. The hem of Oscar’s t-shirt had fallen down again when he’d let go of it, and it was dark and damp. Lando found himself wanting to suck it clean.

”Not—” Oscar’s breath hitched on a moan. “Not long now.” 

You’re telling me, Lando thought wildly, squeezing himself around the base to try to calm himself down. He was panting, thighs flexing with the need to come, but Oscar hadn’t yet, and he wanted to see it. 

“Okay,” Oscar was saying on the screen, more to himself than the camera. “Gonna — gonna turn it up to max now, and that’ll probably do it.”

He reached out then and picked up the phone, bringing it closer to his straining cock. As the camera moved, Lando caught a glimpse of his face, red and shining with sweat. 

“Ready?” Oscar’s voice came over the speakers, and Lando moaned at the shock of being directly addressed. 

Oscar reached his other hand out to the control unit, and Lando saw his thighs clench, his cock lurch violently. 

“Oh, fuck,” Oscar rasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” 

He came, untouched and messy, spraying across his t-shirt. Before he knew it, Lando was coming too, letting it get all over his own stomach as Oscar’s ragged gasps echoed in his ears. 

Lando stopped coming before Oscar did. Oscar’s cock was red and angry-looking, still spurting thin liquid every few seconds as his thighs shook visibly. Then the screen tilted dizzily, and the video stopped.

Lando stared at the screen, shell-shocked. His brain felt like it had been hollowed out. 

“Fucking hell,” he croaked to the phone. He wanted to laugh, slightly hysterical. Instead he wiped his sticky hand on his shirt and swiped out of the video, back to his message thread with Oscar.

lando 20:03 omfg wow

A second later, Lando’s phone vibrated, but there was no reply in his thread with Oscar. Instead, there was a notification from his bank. Lando opened it.

Oscar Piastri has requested funds! Oscar Piastri has requested £100.00 GBP.  Message from recipient: “Told you so.” Accept request to transfer funds?

[thebluester2020]

Any general sex hcs for the bachelors? ;)

OBVIOUSLY 👀. Buckle up, you're gettin' a mini rant anon.

Minors DNI Plz!

Elliot

As much as I write Elliot being a gentle dom whose the king of munches. I can't help but believe he'd want to have his pretty princess moments as well!

This is where I go into suggesting that Elliot likes the idea of his spouse taking control in the bedroom here and there.

The farmer is already super strong so the idea of Elliot being picked up and essentially manhandled by his spouse? It gets him hard so fast to where he's nearly embarrassed at the fact.

But I think he'd take it a step faster

Especially by suggesting to his partner that both of them act out a scene from his book. All for the sake of being able to write the scene out better, of course!

And as a loving spouse who's totally not onto how your husband seems to like being thrown around a bit...you're more than happy to oblige!

Sebastian

Weirdly enough? I think he'd be into public sex.

Nothing like fucking out in the middle of the day but something more low-key like sneaking away from Spirit's Eve to fuck close next to the river or something. Once you two are at the stage of having sex, the both of you are more than comfortable with one another.

As awkward and shy as he is, he's more than happy to fuck you silly next to either the river or behind a couple of bushes!

Bonus points if he's really getting into the spirit of Spirit's Eve by incorporating some fearplay by teasing you that "Oh, can't you hear the monsters in the distance? What a shame if they suddenly escaped and walked in on a monster slayer by fucked like a whore."

And the feeling of you clenching around him even harder, your moans turning into needy whines and embarrassed gasps would make him throb inside you as he clenched you tighter against his frame.

All of a sudden, he'd want to fuck you outside even more from then on out!

Sam

Okay so this one isn't exactly a headcanon but—

Hear me out—that one cutscene where the farmer and Sam are in his room and they're almost caught by Jodi.

Not exactly a headcanon but I think that moment (as embarrassing as it was in the moment) would've awoken a side to Sam that he never knew he had in the first place. Namely, the kink of almost being caught.

Ofc, he wasn't ready to admit it to his crush but the moment you suggested doing something now that you were in his room and underneath his sheets.

He was all on board for that plan.

Shane

The fandom has spoken and agreed upon this already, Shane is a dom.

But—I don't think he would be disturbed or outright say no to the farmer dominating him. Nothing even close to what he does to you (degrading you, a few slaps here and there, etc.) but the idea of you taking control of your pleasure via you pushing him around a little? He nearly gets dizzy from how fast blood rushes to his cock at the sheer thought of it.

You shoving on his chest to make him lay down on the bed while you fuck yourself stupid on his dick? He'll take that and a little side of something more! And bonus points if you suddenly get achy in the middle of sex and then beg him to take control and fuck himself up into you.

Harvey

As much as I like the idea of Harvey being a dom. I can't help but see him as a submissive???

I imagine that the stress and toils of being a doctor would make him too tired to really take the lead in the bedroom, automatically giving the role to you if you were willing to take the reigns and if you are? You're in for a world of surprises with just how cute Harvey is when you two are fucking.

I'm talking about—imagine this for a second; walk with me. Harvey with a dog collar and a leash but you're the one pulling the leash, urging your adorable doctor to fuck you even harder while he's settling into the role of being the perfect obedient dog fucking his master so earnestly! I should write a fic on this wait

Or, better yet, I can see Harvey coming home from work more tired than usual. He's not in the mood for sex but you can tell he wants something.

That's where your hands and mouth come in and the noises he makes are sinful as he practically pleads for you to keep going! And thankfully for him, you have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Alex

I kinda feel like Alex is super vanilla with some light kinks that are only inspired by the farmer. And most of them would probably surround the fact that he's a hunky jock.

Lots of rough fucking mixed in with him showing off his strength via fucking you in positions that no normal person would be able to hold up for anything longer than a minute. Besides that though? I think he'd also be...kinda mean?

Not exactly degrading but just mean, kinda like a bully more so teasing you that "Oh you can't do this, you can't do that" and stuff like that but when it comes from Alex's mouth, it sounds wayyyyyy better.

Unbeknownst to you, you'd be falling right into his trap when he teases you that you totally can't handle him fucking you into a mean mating press without passing out.

You being the strong-willed farmer that you are, you're in it to prove him wrong! Only for him to be proven right when you're balling up your hand against his chest crying that his dick is so good that you're on the verge of blacking out.

[prettyboyth1ng]

Training a girl to admit she’s actually a man by putting her in a chastity belt. she’s not some perverted boy, so she’s not gonna need any of that between her legs, right? Even if she were to start taking testosterone, she could resist any urges that come with it.

At least, that’s what she hopes.

Who knows how long it’d be before the testosterone starts working its magic, transforming that cute little clit into a tdick just begging to be played with as his pussy just starts leaking and leaking. The sheer embarrassment and arousal of wearing such a thing in public might actually be enough to get him to stop wearing those skirts he loves and get him into some jeans.

I wonder if he’d start enjoying it when his need starts getting to him, drifting all his thoughts back to right between his legs. Looking at any object even remotely phallic and fantasizing about how good it would feel plunged into his hole. Or how nice it would feel to shove his little cock into any hole he sees, even if it can barely fit.

Once he can’t bear it anymore and admits to being the good boy I know he is, I should give him a reward. A strap on. But not to use on himself. If he wants to get off, he’s gonna have to put it on and use it make me cum first. All while admitting to being a slutty boy who can’t help but think with his dick with that cute voice of his cracking.

Once he’s actually free of that belt, I wonder if he’d even be patient enough to have me make him cum, or if he’d just start rubbing his dick on the first thing available. Like the impatient slut we both know he is.

[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 4

KOUJAKU'S NATURALNESS

In contrast with all these worries Aoba has, there’s… this Koujaku:

While Aoba worries when he hears that Koujaku had refused everyone’s chocolates because he wanted to give him his chocolates and make it seem like something casual and move on to the next topic, so he wouldn’t die out of embarrassment, Koujaku is eager to receive those chocolates. He refuses the other’s chocolates not only because it would be dishonest to everyone involved, but also because in the end the only chocolates he cares about now are Aoba’s.

Aoba tries to lie and avoid the topic, but Koujaku had already noticed the box in his bag. When Aoba asks if he doesn’t find it weird, for a moment Koujaku doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. Same here:

Koujaku doesn’t care at all whether he’s with a woman or a man, obviously he’s bi, but that doesn’t exempt him from worrying or having issues about it. But he doesn’t. He just doesn’t have these kinds of concerns, he doesn’t care what other people think of his relationships. If it were up to him, he’d shout out loud that he’s dating the love of his life, but out of respect for Aoba he doesn’t.

The closest thing to anything like that is that he didn’t want to admit that he was in love with Aoba because they were friends, like I’ve mentioned before. He couldn’t tell him the truth or risk the friendship they already had. He didn’t want his rejection and he didn’t want to be a burden. Koujaku openly kisses him on the street, making sure not to be seen only to respect Aoba’s wishes, he takes every opportunity to hug him, and even when Benishigure asks them if they’re on a date he answers yes without hesitation, to which Benishigure responds by jokingly wishing them a happy marriage. I find it funny they have opposite reactions especially when Koujaku is the “straightest” of the cast and is always perceived as super masculine in and out of the game as I mentioned. You can appreciate through their relationship’s development that Koujaku gets over that initial awkwardness and has his sexuality pretty normalized now, whereas Aoba takes longer because his nature is more shy and reserved, but it still changes as Koujaku reassures him, helping him coming to terms with his gender and sexuality issues.

In the end Koujaku always reassures him, making sure he feels loved.

Fun fact: In one of Koujaku’s earlier designs he also wears leg warmers. Since they often do things together, like Koujaku accompanying Aoba to buy the CDs he likes, it would be cool if they shared that as well. Also, I’ve always thought that Koujaku’s more casual clothes are probably not worn that much since he always wears a kimono, so Aoba would steal his wardrobe. Imagine if the leg warmers were a gift from Koujaku?

CHILDHOOD. SLY AND KOUJAKU. THE AVOIDANT BEHAVIOR: part 1

This section might be my favorite, although it's so long (ton shit of pics) I'll be dividing it, please wait for the next parts 🤧💞

We also know that Aoba’s insecurities come from his fear of abandonment, because as he himself says, he fears losing Koujaku because when he lost him once it was extremely painful for him.

When Koujaku came into his life, it had a major positive impact. Koujaku being with him meant that the other kids wouldn’t bother him anymore, that he wouldn’t have to feel so alone and abandoned after his parents left and having a grandmother who couldn’t always be with him. For several years those were some of the fondest memories for both of them, so much so that Aoba started to see Koujaku as his hero (which, oddly enough, is also something that when Aoba tells him about it, Koujaku is surprised), and those memories prevented Koujaku from suicide.

And the impact when Koujaku left was equally negative. He was back in the misery of being an abandoned child, and knowing what awaited him after having experienced some of the happiest years of his life made the shock even greater. So much so that it would cause Sly to resurface until he finally took control of the body. Whenever Sly appears, it’s because Aoba needs help, to use his powers or because he has to fight something that Aoba alone cannot, including mental distress that weakens Aoba. And it’s no different here.

From this stage of their childhood we see a certain connection between the two that seems to go a little bit further, to a spiritual plane. Koujaku came into Aoba’s life at an ideal time, after his parents left, and no matter where Aoba was, Koujaku would always end up finding him. As if it was fate or a miracle, he remembers him and the beautiful moments they lived together when he wanted to commit suicide, giving him some hope to continue living and that maybe not everything in his live had gone wrong. After years of being alone following the death of his mother he finally manages to return to the island. No matter how much they try to hide that something is bothering them, even if they don’t know the reason, they always know something’s wrong, even when other people who are also close to them don’t realize it. There’s something special there, they always make the way they interact and share their feelings through other means than words sound in a somewhat spiritual way. Because that’s how it was meant to be.

As I mentioned earlier Koujaku kind of believes in souls, asking Aoba about it in the Drama CD. Not only that, but after dreaming about his mother several times recently, he believed that maybe it could be his mother’s spirit trying to tell him something, to go to her grave.

But I think the most interesting part of all this is in the bad ending. The bad ending is a reflection of how far obsession can go and the consequences of not letting the people who love you help you. Not letting yourself be loved, pushing them away and locking yourself in, perpetuating the cycle you've been stuck in all your life, from which you can’t get out alone.

[viasdiary]

can you write inexperienced luigi asking the reader to get him ready for college, like taking his virginity

☆ be my first (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 2.1k

☆ warnings: smut, crying, overstimulation, unprotected sex, barely proofread

☆ inexperienced luigi who tutored you through high school asks you to take his virginity before he goes off to college.

it’s late afternoon, and you’ve just stepped out of the shower when your phone rings. you see it’s luigi calling, and you answer almost instantly.

"hey," he greets you, his voice warm and familiar.

"hey, lu," you reply, a grin spreading across your face. "it's been, like, forever since we talked."

"i know," he says softly, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice, maybe even picture the slight blush creeping across his cheeks.

"what’s up?" you ask, curious.

his voice shifts slightly, a little hesitant, like he’s preparing for something important.

"i was wondering if i could come over later… i just have something i need some help with," he admits, sounding almost embarrassed.

"yeah, of course," you respond, offering him a reassuring tone.

"thanks," he breathes out, sounding relieved. "it means a lot. i'll see you later, then."

the hours stretch on as you wait for him to arrive. time feels like it’s moving agonizingly slow. you try to distract yourself, but your mind keeps drifting back to the upcoming visit. you haven't seen luigi in so long. you lay on your couch, looking out the large front window at the setting sun, golden light streaming into your small living room.

when the doorbell finally rings, you get up, take a deep breath to calm your racing thoughts. you open the door, and there he is.

luigi stands on your doorstep, looking even more handsome than usual, his usual nervous energy written all over him. his dark curls are slightly tousled, and he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and baggy jeans. his nervous fidgeting only makes him more endearing.

"hey," you greet him casually, trying to hide the rush of emotions swirling inside you.

"hey," he replies, his voice a little shaky, but his smile is warm. he steps over the threshold, and you gesture for him to sit down on the couch. you sit next to him, maintaining a little space between you, trying to let the air settle between you both.

an awkward silence falls over you two. you both seem to be searching for the right words. then, with a small sigh, you decide to break the ice.

"so, what did you need help with?" you ask, keeping your voice light but curious.

luigi takes a moment, his eyes flitting around the room before he finally speaks up. "i was wondering if you could help me… with something personal."

you nod, trying not to look too puzzled, though a small knot of curiosity tightens in your chest.

"uh, sure," you say, your voice calm, but your mind is already racing with possibilities.

"what is it?"

he hesitates for a moment, then seems to gather the courage to say it.

"i want to lose my virginity before i leave for college," he blurts out, his voice barely above a whisper.

you're caught off guard. the vulnerability in his words hits you hard. you never expected him to say something like that, especially not about you.

all the moments you’d shared, those study sessions, the way he'd always been there to help—did they mean something more to him all along? you’re suddenly overwhelmed with a mix of confusion and honor that he’s chosen you for such a deeply personal request.

“where is this even coming from?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. luigi's cheeks flush, and his eyes dart nervously to the side.

"i've always kinda had feelings for you," he admits, almost shyly. "but i was too scared to say anything before. and now that i’m leaving… i just don't want to go without having experienced this with someone i trust. someone who means a lot to me."

your heart races as you process his words. all those times he’d gone out of his way to help you, to be there for you, had it been more than just friendship all along?

"are you sure about this, lu?" you ask softly, your voice gentle, your hand unconsciously reaching out to touch his arm. "this is a big step. i don't want you to feel like you have to do it just because you're leaving." he looks at you, his expression more determined now, his voice steadier. "i’ve thought about it a lot. i’m sure."

a mix of emotions swells inside you—nervousness, excitement, and something deeper you can't quite put your finger on. this is a big moment, but you can tell he’s thought it through.

"okay," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. you gently place your hand on his arm, a comforting touch as you stand up and guide him down the hallway to your room.

there's no turning back now, and as you walk together, you know this moment will change everything between the two of you.

once in your room, you close the door, and the air becomes thick with anticipation. he takes a seat on the bed, looking nervous and unsure, so you move closer to him, trying to calm his nerves.

"we don't have to do anything you don't want to," you assure him.

"we can stop anytime, just-"

"no," he interrupts you, sounding firmer than usual.

"i want this, i want you to be my first"

there's an unspoken need in his voice, and you can tell he's serious. he places his hand on your thigh as he speaks, looking you deeply in the eyes.

you bite your lip to hold back the words that want to spill out. you want him, too.

he looks at you, his expression a mixture of nervousness and need, and you can't help but smile. you reach out and touch his cheek gently, feeling the heat rising under your fingertips.

you lean in slowly, giving him time to stop you, but he doesn’t. you press your lips to his, the kiss soft and tentative at first, then growing more passionate as he returns it. his hands slide up your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. he finds his way on top of you as you embrace him, his weight slightly pressing you into the mattress.

your bodies press together, and you can feel the heat building between you. your hands wander across his back, sliding underneath his shirt, feeling his skin warm and soft against yours. you pull his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, then run your fingers across his bare chest, tracing shapes around his freckles. he shivers at the contact. you part your lips and break the kiss.

"is this okay?" you ask, a whisper against his skin. his voice is low and desperate, his words coming out in a rush.

"god, yes," he says, his hands moving over your body, exploring every curve.

he slides his hands up the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach. you lift your arms, allowing him to remove your shirt and toss it aside.

his hands continue exploring your body, and you feel a growing warmth between your legs. he cups one of your breasts, gently massaging the sensitive flesh. you arch into his touch, and he leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"god, you're so beautiful," he whispers.

you moan softly, your fingers tangling in his curls, pulling him closer. you move your hips forward, grinding against him, eliciting a groan from him.

"you know how long i've wanted to do this?" he breathes "god, all the times you were in my room studying, i was so hard just fucking looking at you"

"shut up," you say, feeling a grin spreading across your face.

"i'm fuckin' serious," he says smiling against your skin

he begins to plant kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, his tongue flicking across the sensitive skin.

"fuck," you moan, your hips bucking against him.

"i've been waiting. so. long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss.

you grip his shoulders, holding him close. he continues his exploration, trailing kisses across your chest, his hands sliding up your back.

his hands find the clasp of your bra, undoing it easily. he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing against the hard nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips.

"is this alright?" he asks, his voice low and uncertain. you bite your lip and nod, arching into his touch. he's a virgin, but he knows exactly what to do.

he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair. he moves his hands down, cupping your ass, pulling you closer.

"god, luigi," you gasp, the feeling of his tongue on your skin driving you crazy.

he smiles against your skin, his eyes dark and hungry. he begins to tug at the waistband of your pants, and you eagerly lift your hips, letting him slide them off. he tosses them aside, his gaze never leaving yours.

"so fuckin' gorgeous," he murmurs, his hands roaming across your bare skin.

he slides a hand down the front of your underwear, and you gasp as his fingers brush against your clit.

"luigi," you moan, arching into his touch.

"you want this, don't you?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle. you nod, feeling the wetness pooling between your legs. he presses his thumb against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. you cry out, gripping his shoulders tightly. he slides a finger inside you, curling it slightly.

"yes," you gasp, your hips moving against him.

"tell me," he groans.

"i want you, luigi," you moan, your voice needy. "i want you so bad." he withdraws his hand, and you whimper at the loss of contact. he strips off his remaining clothes, and you admire his toned body and his delicately placed freckles. he kneels between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs.

he positions himself at your entrance, and you moan softly, desperate for him to be inside you.

"please," you whimper.

"i need you."

he enters you slowly, a whine escaping his lips. he'd never felt pleasure so intense before. you're both overcome with the feeling of each other. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"fuck," he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. he thrusts into you slowly, taking his time. you're both lost in the sensation, your bodies pressed together.

"oh god, luigi," you moan, raking your nails down his back.

"you feel so fuckin' good," he says, his voice a low moan.

you feel yourself tightening around him. he thrusts harder, hitting just the right spot.

"fuck," you cry out, clinging to him desperately.

"god, i'm gonna cum," he gasps, his hips moving faster. you could feel his need, his desire for you, his love.

"let go, baby," you whisper, cupping his face in your hands. "i've got you."

he finishes with a cry, burying his face in your neck, his body trembling with pleasure.

"jesus," he says, his breathing ragged. he collapses on top of you, and you hold him close, running your fingers through his soft curls.

"did you finish?" he asks, still breathless.

"no," you reply, feeling a little embarrassed. "can we keep going?"

he looks down at you, his expression one of pure bliss.

"god, yes," he says with a soft chuckle.

he kisses you hungrily, his hands roaming across your body. he reaches down, circling your clit with his thumb.

"oh god," you moan, arching into his touch. he keeps thrusting into you, and you feel him shaking and overstimulated

"you're so fuckin' tight," he says softly.

you cling to him, the pressure building inside you. you're both teetering on the edge again, the sensation overwhelming.

"oh fuck, luigi," you gasp, your nails digging into his back. he's trembling as he pounds into you relentlessly, you can feel him crying against your chest.

"i love you," he whimpers.

"oh god, i love you too."

it hits you suddenly, the orgasm ripping through your body. you cry out, clinging to him, your entire body shaking.

"god, yes," he groans, his hips stuttering. he comes undone, spilling inside you once again.

you're both spent, sweaty, and breathing hard. he pulls out and rolls onto his back, his chest heaving.

"fuck,"

he mutters.

"god, you were amazing."

[denim-devil]

Dbf!Frank

Reader is getting driving lessons from Frank so he can travel from college to home more conveniently instead of having to travel. Frank ends up seducing reader and while the reader is blowing frank Reader's dad calls and asks how reader is getting on and Frank replies with "he can't talk rn" or something followed by filth 😮‍💨

-.• Emerging Adulthood

💌 - A deep natural desire takes over once you reconnect after months apart, he also happens to be your dad’s best friend…

| Age gap / DBF / Car sex / Blowjob / Facefucking |

A/N - Please IM SO RUSTY! It’s not my best but enjoy! Thank you for the request, my inbox is always open so ask away.

Nervous wasn’t the only way to describe how you felt.

The van, cold yet lacked space, you were crammed shoulder to shoulder with Frank, the neighbour who became close friends with your dad, not just for any reason though.

It was going smoothly although you could hear the slightly creak of the dark van’s metal exterior every time you began to break, it was new to you but travelling hours on end from college to home, back and forth got exhausting from time to time, this way you could see your father…and Frank.

“Thank you for this Frank, it’s gonna make my life so much easier…”

Smiling to himself, he shoots a glance your way, his arms resting against his meaty, spread thighs.

“Nah it’s nothin’ kid, trust me, yer dad seemed pretty happy about it, atleast we can spend some time together, feel like yer’ve grown to quickly…”

Shuffling lead to him leaning over directly into your space, mouth level with your ear, a helping hand slowly monitoring your steering, looming over your own.

It wasn’t something new to you, it had been years, ever since the day you were introduced there had always been a click, with it recently growing into something more, Frank hated to admit how much you had an affect on him, yet that was secreted…for now.

Heat began to rise up from your strained neck, blossoming into your cheeks. Frank could see it, being this close, feeling his skin on yours, he could feel the van wobbly slightly, knowing that your focus was elsewhere.

“C’mon kid, you got it, look at yer go”

His whispers had you actively clutching the wheel, his hand now removing itself from your own and down to your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He kept it there for a few seconds, testing the waters, you could both feel the tension, thick as a block of butter, head fuzzy with the thought of something happening, something you had been longing for.

He pulls back for leverage, allowing you to make a left turning, flicking the indicator on just before, you could hear the light chuckle and the low, short and huffy “good boy”.

“You really are gettin’ good at this ain’t ya?”

You nod with confidence, evidently ignoring the boner that began to ache between your pressed thighs, how could you possibly escape this situation without embarrassing yourself?

With space to breathe, you begin to get comfortable again, slightly slouching back with a newly perpetuated confidence, with a teacher as good as Frank, you’d be able to drive in no time, yet he was the biggest distraction on earth, to you, he was everything and more.

“Hey…kid? See that over there? Why don’cha pull in for me, give yer legs a rest…”

It was a desolate patch of road, away from the car’s passing by, away from the world, secret and quiet, your heart pounded, thumping in your ears, loud. Nodding was your only answer as you follow his words, pulling in slowly, turning the car until you came to a stop.

“Good job kid, yer really gonna smash it”

He ruffles your locks, now messy and out of place, it catches Frank of guard, nothing out of the unusual yet his cock twitched, the sight of you alone was intoxicating and it took everything within him to sit and just pretend he was okay, the look unknowingly had you creeping back in on yourself, a shyness only he was able to bring out.

You twiddle with your thumbs, anything to take your mind off of him, to just escape for those five seconds before he scoffed.

“What’s wrong kid?”

His words were the catalyst, looking up into his hazel eyes which looked glazed, comforting yet dark and mysterious, Frank wasn’t the type to share much about his personal life but what he did, you took with a grain of salt but you had enough trust to believe every word.

“Nothing…just, this-“

He shuffled, backing up his seat a little before resting an elbow on the window and spreading his meaty legs wider practically giving you an invitation.

“What about it? Somethin distracting yer?”

You nod timidly.

“I can help with that…”

His drawl was thick, soothing to the brain. You turn to look at him, eyes immediately drinking the view in, lowering, settling on the bulge between his legs, you tried stifling the small gasp of air that managed to escape you, it was to late.

“I can explain-“

He tutted, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of his throbbing cock, glued to the way you shuffled in your seat like you had ants in your pants.

“Yer don’t hav’ to, I’ve been tryin’ fer so long with yer, waitin’ till I had you all to myself…”

As if time stood still itself you were so focused on him, the way he looked, the way he sat, the way his thumbed at cock, palm fondling the front of his dark wash jeans, it was alluring, you wanted more.

You yearned for this day more then you would like to say, patience was waning thin on your side, every inch of you on fire just at the single thought of becoming more, the judgment and broken connections that would likely follow had you stilled and confused, it wasn’t enough to withhold you from desire.

“All yer have ta do is nod, then yer can have it and some more”

It felt like a punch to the stomach, like the air in your lungs evaporated within seconds. The heat in your cheeks scorching the skin successfully, succumbing to Frank’s charm.

Your palms were damp, almost sticky as you shakily reached towards his crotch with a wanting hand, nodding in the process, swallowing the spit that had collected in the back of your mouth from salivating just at the thought of seeing it, seeing him.

“Atta boy-“

Reaching for the back of your head sweetly, he slowly lowers it, watching you wiggle into a comfortable position before your nose, now squished up against his crotch, huffs, breathing him in shyly.

Relishing in the smell, musky, thick with masculinity, sweet with temptation.

Eager hands search his thighs before you face the ultimatum, looking up into his darkened eyes, lust filled. Frank knew exactly what you wanted and happily complied, pushing you further into his aching bulge, stuffing your nose deeper.

“That’s it, yer so fuckin’ hungry for ain’t yer”

Hot pants litter the front of his trousers, tongue darting out to lap at the freshly made wet patch. The taste heavy with want scorned the tip of your tongue, fingers avidly searching for the zipper to unleash your dirty fantasy.

Frank watched. His tongue dangerously flicking against his teeth as he smirked, the soft moans that fell from the pits of your chest once you successfully managed the opening, pulling the zipper down, releasing the beast.

Eager finger tips dig into the waist band of his underwear, his bulge nothing short of chunky and big, filling the entire space within the material.

His length flops out against his abs with a heavy thud. You couldn’t help but look in awe, the tip angry and red, multiple veins, thick and pumping with desire, he was big, scarily big but you expected nothing less from an ex-marine.

A searching hand wraps around him, engulfing the head with the extra skin that sat there, watching in anticipation once it flicked over the tip, jerking him slowly back and forth.

Frank groaned, head lulling back into his car seat, legs widening even further for you slot deeper into, making space for the casual onslaught that was now set in stone.

This was nothing short of both risky and dangerous, you had no self control, not when it came to Frank, you allow yourself to indulge, inspecting the jizzy head before your mouth wraps around his bulbous tip, wide and wanting.

His hands, full of warmth and protection slowly search the back of your neck, raking up into your locks before grabbing a handle, he tugs you back catching you off guard but it’s not for nothing.

“Been thinkin’ about these pretty little lips wrapped around my cock, yer think yer can take it?”

Without a warning your pushed back into him, mouth engulfing what he gave you, a strong hand settling at the back of your neck, warm yet eager to push you downward, watching each inch of him get lost within your wet cavern.

It gave you no time to think, how could you think? His cock reaching the depths of your throat, the tip glued to the back of your mouth once your nose buried itself in the thin layer of hair that framed the beauty and beast.

“Fuck, yer been practicing with them boys in college? Who knew yer were a good cock sucker-“

He holds you down once you start to gag, eyes rolled back into your head, balls pressed heavy against your brow line, you couldn’t do anything yet submit to the man. Frank wouldn’t ever admit it but watching you struggle to breathe, slapping at his thighs for air was something he’d think about every damn day from now.

You choke before being allowed to pull off with a pop, coughing into the material of his trousers. Once again your back on with a newly found love, tongue flicking over the tip once you sink your throat down again, taking his cock completely, back and forth with the direction of his hand.

That’s when his mobile began to buzz, throwing you both off guard, it wasn’t enough to make you stop though, your other hand coming to cup the base of his balls, rolling both between your fingers.

“Gotta be quiet sweetheart, it’s yer daddy. Keep suckin’ that dick like a good boy”

In which you did, following his lead once he pressed accept, taking the risk. It felt dirty once the conversation started, knowing any slip up could cost you both, yet it had you going faster and deeper, stuffing your mouth full of him.

“Yer he’s doin a pretty good job, think I outta give him a few more for good measure, gotta give to him though, he’s very…good”

Frank bit into the centre of his bottom lip, keeping his heavy groans back which were seated deep in his chest, urging to come out. His hand kept it’s presence known, bouncing his hips upward into your skull, balls freely slapping into your cheek.

Dirty. Wet. A small puddle of saliva formed at his base, strings of it latching onto the base of your chin, it would be a miracle if your dad never heard any of it, how you worked him over.

“He can’t talk right now, he’s just parking up, yer that’s right—“

It was quick yet everything you were searching for, nothing short of filthy. Nothing mattered to Frank more then watching your growing affliction for his cock flourish into neediness, hearing just how much you wanted it by the relentless gags and the hollowing of your cheeks.

Nobody really understood the burning hunger that sat heavy in his gut, only you, the constant lapping at tip, the frequent squeeze of his balls, he couldn’t hold on for much longer, not when you had every incline of how to make him crumble.

“I gotta go, need to finish up with him, I’m sure he’ll tell yer all about it when we get back…”

Your eyes started to well with tears as he fucked into your throat, using your mouth like he would toy, chasing after his orgasm. Ending the call was the gateway to your freedom, his pace faster then before, delivering harsh blows, his hand holding you down, forcing you to take it.

“Gonna cum boy- can you take it? You taking it?”

Nodding with anticipation is all it took for Frank to sink every single inch into your throat, he sat heavy on your tongue, feeling him pulse and twitch, hand keeping you in place once you feel each thick shot land in different places in your mouth, pooling behind your lips.

“Shit— shit”

Swallowing every drop you couldn’t let any go to waste, tasting him fully, slightly salty but over-all sweet and tantalising, it lingered behind even after swallowing every drop, tongue cleaning his cock before you pull of with a pop, watching it fall and lay, half hard.

“C’mere sweetheart”

His eyelids were hooded, his mouth turned out into a sincere smile, he looked faded, lost in his pleasure. Darting forward into him, his tongue flicks into your mouth, over your own, hungrily, learning just how damn good he tasted on you.

You wondered how the rest of your college break was going to go, it wasn’t exactly out of the blue but you had time and Frank had the patience.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 2

Warnings: language, harsh self talk

Paige Bueckers x oc

A/N: I plan on posting a few chapters tonight! Stay tune <3

Paiges perspective

The gym is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sound is the rhythmic thud of a volleyball hitting the floor, echoing through the otherwise empty space. Layla is here, practicing alone, her movements sharp and controlled as if she’s trying to burn off the frustration from the game last night. I stand at the doorway for a moment, watching her, feeling a strange pull in my chest. She’s a sophomore, but she’s already so damn good. It’s almost intimidating how effortlessly she plays, like she’s been doing this her whole life.

But what catches my attention more than anything is the way her face is flushed, the redness lingering. I saw her after the match, how she tried to hide the tears, how vulnerable she looked. She’s so strong on the court, but right now, I can see that she’s not invincible. And that makes her even more… real. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude to the girl, she clearly has alot going on behind the scenes.

I step forward, trying to make a noise so I don’t startle her, but it’s clear she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice me at first. Layla looks up when I’m closer, startled, and I can see her cheeks flush even deeper. She’s still breathing heavily from practice, but I can tell she’s embarrassed. I don’t want to make her feel worse, so I try to keep my voice casual.

“Layla?” I call out softly.

She blinks, her eyes wide for a second, before she glances away, quickly wiping at her face like she’s trying to hide something. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

I raise an eyebrow, stepping further into the gym. “Same thing you are, I guess. Practicing.”

Her shoulders tense up, and she glances at the clock on the wall, her voice almost defensive. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, I know. But I work better when no one’s around,” I say, offering a small shrug. I know it’s kind of a weird thing to admit, but it’s true. I’ve always been that way. The quiet helps me think.

Layla doesn’t answer right away. She just stares at me for a moment, her face still flushed. I can tell she’s trying to figure out why I’m here. She probably thinks I’m judging her, or maybe she feels embarrassed because I saw her so emotional after the game. I don’t want to make her feel worse, so I try to soften my voice.

“You okay?” I ask, stepping a little closer, but not too close. I don’t want to invade her space.

She shrugs, but it’s a half-hearted gesture, like she’s trying to brush me off. “Yeah. Just… trying to work through it. The game, I mean.”

I nod, understanding more than I let on. I saw the way she reacted after the match, how she tried to hold it together, but you could see the cracks in her armor. It’s not easy, being so young and having so much pressure on you. I get it. I’ve been there.

“You were really good out there last night,” I say, trying to offer some reassurance. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

She looks at me, but I can tell she’s not convinced. Her gaze flicks to the floor, and she shakes her head. “I just… I don’t want anyone to see me like that. I don’t want to seem weak.”

I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I know what it’s like to feel like you have to be perfect all the time. But I also know it’s okay to show some vulnerability. So, I step a little closer, not wanting to crowd her but hoping my presence might be comforting.

“You’re not weak,” I say softly. “It’s okay to have moments where you don’t have it all together. We all have them.”

She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, I think she might say something else, but she just looks away again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice quieter now.

There’s a silence between us, and I can feel the tension building. I can’t stop noticing how close we are now. How her breath is shallow, how her body moves when she serves the ball again. I try to focus on her words, but my mind keeps drifting. I can’t help but notice how she looks right now—her hair slightly messy, her cheeks flushed from exertion, her lips parted just slightly as she catches her breath.

It’s hard not to think about her like this. I’m trying to push the thoughts away, but they keep coming back, one after another. And it’s not just the way she looks, it’s the way she makes me feel. There’s something magnetic about her. I don’t know if she feels it too, but I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to get closer to her, how much I want to know what she’s really thinking.

“You’re… you’re really good at this,” I say, my voice a little shaky, and I hate that it is. I try to cover it up by sounding casual, but I’m not sure I’m fooling anyone. I’m not fooling myself, at least.

She looks at me, her brow furrowing slightly, and I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. “Thanks,” she says again, but this time, it’s not as sincere. It’s like she’s trying to push me away, like she’s trying to keep me at arm’s length.

I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I can feel the tension between us growing thicker. I want to reach out, to tell her it’s okay, but I don’t. I don’t want to make things worse. Instead, I just watch her, trying to figure out what’s going on inside her head.

“You don’t have to be perfect all the time, you know,” I say softly, almost as if I’m talking to myself.

She looks at me, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

I hesitate, unsure of how to explain. “I just mean… it’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to have moments where you’re not in control.”

She looks away again, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable with the conversation. “I guess… I guess I just didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

I feel a strange protective urge rise in me, but I push it down. I don’t want to make things worse for her. I just want her to know that it’s okay to be human, that it’s okay to have moments of weakness.

“You’re allowed to be human,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t answer, but I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s still struggling with the idea of showing vulnerability, and I get it. I really do. But I can’t help but feel a strange connection to her, something that goes beyond just sports talk.

And then, just as I’m about to say something else, she mutters under her breath, almost too quietly for me to hear. “I don’t know why I was fooling myself.”

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she looks at me, her eyes searching mine, and I feel a jolt of electricity between us. For a moment, I think she might say something—something real, something raw—but then she just looks away, her shoulders slumping slightly.

“I don’t know why I was fooling myself,” she repeats, her voice softer now. “I don’t know why I thought I could handle it.”

I want to say something to make her feel better, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what’s going on with me, with us. But I do know one thing: I can’t stop thinking about her. And I don’t know if she feels the same way, but I can’t ignore it anymore.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. “Hey,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “I’m sorry. The way I acted yesterday and before that… I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”

She looks up at me, surprised, and I can see the tension leave her shoulders, even if just for a moment.

“I was… jealous,” I admit, my eyes flicking away for a second before meeting hers again. “I didn’t handle the media event the right way. I was just mad about my own shit and taking it out on you for things you can’t control.”

Layla doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and I start to feel like I’ve made a huge mistake. But then she nods slowly, her expression softening.

“It’s okay,” she says quietly looking up to meet my eyes, and I can hear the sincerity in her voice. “I get it. I also could have been nicer too I’ve been really on edge lately, I’m sorry Paige.”

God she has the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. “Trust me, don’t worry about it” I say, stepping closer again, giving her face a once over. “We’re all just… figuring it out.”

She looks at me, and for the first time tonight, there’s a small smile on her face. It’s tentative, but it’s there. And I feel a little lighter, like maybe things between us aren’t so bad after all.

[presleyslilbaby]

please a fic where the Memphis mafia walk in on elvis and reader having sex and they make fun of her for it ( repeating what she said during it )and elvis goes mental and basically just puts them in their place ! thankyou 💕

~Mockery~

(70’s!Elvis X Reader)

(Hi there! Thank you for requesting! So I have to admit, I'm not that good with the Memphis Mafia yet due to somehow being unable to find any information which is odd, but I did see a few other people saying that Red and Jerry would be the type to mock in a situation like this. This isn't my best work I don't think, but I tried my best and I hope you like it! 💜)

(TW: Rough sex, oral sex, Daddy used in a sexual manner, controlling Elvis-If you squint-, getting caught, potential misspellings, probably OOC M.M-)

"Oohhhh...!" You moaned loudly as Elvis stuffed his tongue deep in your pussy, eating you out with such fervor you were sure you were going to see stars. Gripping his hair tightly, you began to rut against his face, desperate for more of that delicious pleasure he provided you. "Ya' taste so fuckin' good, li'l Mama...I could eat you all night," He rasped, pulling his tongue out only for him to replace it with two thick fingers, pumping them in and out of you as his lips closed around your clitoris, sucking and giving that occasional nip or two. "S-S-So good, Daddy~!" You praised him, arching your back as your thighs closed around his head.

Elvis growled, snapping your legs back open as he looked at you with such a controlling expression. "Keep these pretty li'l legs open, Y/n. I wanna eat this cunt properly." He ordered before delving back down to drag his tongue over your clit in an agonisingly slow manner, causing your legs to tremble as you whimpered. "Sing for me." He chuckled, pushing your hips up and holding you by the waist to get a better angle of what belonged to him. "Oh god, yes!" You moaned, feeling your lower abdomen burning with white hot pleasure, your body preparing you for an orgasm. And finally, you let go. But you didn't have much time before Elvis positioned himself at your entrance, burying himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust.

"Fuck, Baby...Yes...So goddamn tight..." He groaned, tilting his head back in pleasure. One thing that you found over the course of your relationship was that Elvis was definitely the type to scream during sex. But you were always louder. Minutes passed, and he was fucking you with wild abandon, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every erratic thrust, panting like a dog in heat as sweat poured down his face, dripping down onto your own sweat-drenched body. "Fuck! Yes, Daddy! Harder!" You begged him, moaning as loud as your lungs would allow with how much air was being knocked out of you. "Daddy's gonna go harder," He whimpered, trying to drive into you harder despite his already wicked pace. A shaking thumb found its way to your clit, rubbing it desperately in rough circles as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck he'd marked over and over again. But just as you were close to orgasming for the second time that night-

The bedroom door came open.

There stood Red West and Jerry Schilling with expressions mixed with mortification and amusement, eyes trained on the show you were unknowingly putting on. You noticed the door had opened, and you screamed, trying to hide your body from the two Men. Elvis whipped his head up, unsure what was going on before he noticed Red and Jerry. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He shouted, grabbing the blanket and swiftly covering the both of you, shifting himself as if protecting you. Just as quickly as they appeared, the two had shut the door and left, but the sounds of their mockery could be heard beyond that threshold. "'Oh, Daddy~!'" They mocked, laughing at your expense.

Elvis was fucking pissed. Disentangling himself from you, he hopped up from the bed and swiftly pulled on a pair of underwear, his face bright Red with embarrassment and rage. "E-E-El-" You tried to call for him, but it was too late. He was already barging out of the bedroom to set those two straight. "I am NOT going to tolerate whatever the fuck you're doin'! Mockin' my Girl- MY Girl, while we was havin' time together!" Elvis shouted at them. "And why the FUCK DIDN'T YOU KNOCK?! What are you, goddamn idiots?! You say another fuckin' word, and I swear to The Good Lord above you're gonna wish you ain't said anythin' at all!" And before they could utter another word, he stomped right back in the room where he slammed the door shut, locking it aggressively. Tearing off his boxers, literally, he turned back towards you.

"We ain't done, Girl."

[bluhourz]

can you do a reverse comfort beomgyu x female reader where beomgyu is sick and vomiting and y/n takes care of him?

this was so nice to write, thank you for the request anon!

requests are open ♡

when he is sick

-

The rain poured outside as you hurried back into the apartment, carrying a bag of groceries and some extra items you'd grabbed from the pharmacy. Beomgyu had been feeling under the weather for a few days, but this morning had been the tipping point. He had texted you, groaning about how he couldn’t stop throwing up, and you had immediately left work early to come home and care for him.

“Beomgyu?” you called softly as you slipped out of your wet shoes and made your way to the bedroom. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp. There he was, lying curled up in bed, his face pale and sweaty, his messy hair sticking to his forehead. He looked utterly miserable but still managed a weak smile when he saw you.

“Why are you home so early?” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “I told you I’m fine. I can—ugh—take care of myself.”

You frowned and set the bag down, walking over to place the back of your hand on his forehead. He was burning up. “Take care of yourself, huh? Is that what you were doing while vomiting every twenty minutes?” you teased gently, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

He pouted, his lower lip jutting out adorably. “I could’ve handled it. You didn’t have to—”

“Shh,” you interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. “Stop talking. I’m here now, and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

Beomgyu opened his mouth to protest again but was cut off when you raised an eyebrow. He huffed dramatically and flopped back against the pillow, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, “I’m not a baby.”

You ignored his grumbling and went to fetch a cool, damp washcloth. When you returned, you gently dabbed his forehead, wiping away the sweat. His eyes fluttered closed, and despite his earlier resistance, he leaned into your touch.

“See? Isn’t this better than pretending you’re invincible?” you murmured, smiling softly as you pressed the cloth to his neck.

He cracked one eye open to glare at you, but it lacked any real heat. “Still not a baby,” he mumbled, though the pout on his lips said otherwise.

“Of course not,” you replied, humoring him. “You’re just my very sick and *very* stubborn boyfriend.”

He groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

You chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “I’m enjoying taking care of you because you deserve to be spoiled sometimes. Now stop pouting and let me do my job.”

Over the next few hours, you completely babied him, much to his mixed annoyance and secret delight. You propped him up with pillows, made him sip on warm ginger tea to settle his stomach, and rubbed small circles on his back whenever another wave of nausea hit.

At one point, he tried to convince you to leave him alone. “You’re going to catch whatever I have,” he protested weakly as you tucked a blanket around him.

“I’ll risk it,” you said firmly. “And even if I do get sick, you can repay the favor and take care of me.”

He gave you a look that said he didn’t believe you for a second. “You’d probably just end up taking care of both of us.”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin, brushing your hand through his hair. “But I wouldn’t mind.”

By evening, Beomgyu was feeling a little better, though he was still pale and lethargic. You sat beside him, spoon-feeding him small bites of rice porridge that you’d made earlier.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing pink as you held the spoon to his lips.

“Embarrassing or not, you’re eating,” you said, nudging him gently. “Come on, open up.”

He sighed but obeyed, letting you feed him. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he mumbled again, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips this time.

“Maybe,” you admitted, wiping a bit of porridge from the corner of his mouth. “But only because I love you.”

That shut him up. His pout softened, and he avoided your gaze, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I love you too,” he mumbled, barely audible.

You leaned down to kiss his forehead, smiling warmly. “I know. Now, finish your porridge, and then we’ll watch a movie until you fall asleep, okay?”

He nodded, too tired to argue anymore. As he snuggled into the blankets later, his head resting on your lap while you played with his hair, he sighed contentedly.

“Maybe being babied isn’t so bad,” he murmured sleepily.

You laughed softly and pressed another kiss to his temple. “Told you so.”

[dreadnoughtus101]

Headcanons

My Tsukishima Kei headcanons!!

______________________________________________________________

He secretly has a soft spot for you that he isn't embarrassed to show in front of others if it means proving to them you're his.

He's never been into smoking and his highly against nicotine, but if you were to occasionally smoke weed and offer him some, he'd try it.

Insists on walking you everywhere to keep you safe and puts his arm around you when he sees a man who gives him red flags.

Hates sharing food so instead he packs your own lunch so you don't ask for any of his

Feels upset when he accidentally makes a comment that hurts you

Secretly can't wait to get married and start a family with you, but will never straight out admit it.

At first he got avoidant during arguments, but after a few months he slowly got less avoidant and prefers to sit and discuss the problem.

Listens to what you have to say without judgement.

If you fall, he'll laugh first, then help.

Insists that you study multiple times a week.

Acts like he hates your random calls, but really he sits around his room and waits for him.

If you don't text or call for a while, he assumes something is wrong.

NSFW!

Prefers to be a gentle dom, he doesn't want to take it too far and hurt your feelings.

Loves when you hold his hand during.

His a bit insecure so he loves any praise you give him.

Prefers to do all the work, more of a giver than a receiver.

Aftercare is a huge deal to him.

Will cook you your favorite meal afterwards and run you a bath.

The first time, he definitely cried a little afterwards watching you sleep right next to him.

Won't request pictures, but will be more than happy to take them if you offer the chance.

His only goal is to make you feel good

Definitely makes you finish first before himself, unless you guys are having more of a rougher night

Some nights he likes to have a rougher night to be a bit less gentle, but only if you enjoy it too.