#like I think this is just a dress he would wear casually. to be drag he’d have to be putting on a persona but no this is just Cloud

[irisintheafterglow]

bsf!shoto doesn't understand when being punctual went out of style.

when you swing open your front door the instant he was about to knock, you startle backward like you'd seen a ghost.

"oh, wow." your eyes are wide open and your mouth gapes before snapping shut. "you're, uh, here very early," you manage to say, turning back inside and kicking the door the rest of the way open with your foot. he follows behind you as you hurry back to your bathroom, your makeup halfway done and seven possible outfits laid on your bed. he follows you through the hallway, stopping only a moment to glance at a baby photo of you on the wall. he'd seen the photos hundreds of times, but he found it amusing that you made the same face of surprise when you were little.

"i am ten minutes before our agreed upon meeting time, is that distressing?"

"not distressing, just surprising. in my experience," you continue while patting glitter on the inside corner of your eyelid, "guys don't usually show up on time for dates."

"well, it's a good thing i'm not other guys, then," he smirks and you roll your eyes with a poorly hidden grin. "i also didn't need to waste time picking you flowers--"

"since most of the stuff makes me sneeze anyway," you finish for him, your cheeks warm under the dusting of powder blush. you had known shoto for nearly three quarters of your life, yet it still caught you off guard every time he said something that told you he'd been paying attention to you. "very thoughtful of you." your eyes meet his in the mirror, flicking to his broad shoulder leaning against the doorframe. "staring is rude."

"then you're a hypocrite," he immediately counters with no change in tone, the only indication of his smugness the slightest narrowing of his eyes. his expression turns thoughtful, fond almost. he smiles softly and the endearment makes your cheeks warm even more. "i like that color. the one on your eyes."

"mmm, i know it's your favorite," you reply coyly. shoto's eyes drag from your face down the rest of your body, something different flickering across his face. "something wrong?"

"no, you just...you look beautiful," he manages to say.

"i'm wearing pajamas and all might socks that have at least three holes. in each sock," you chuckle, turning to him over your shoulder. "i certainly don't feel beautiful."

"i can fix that."

"what?"

"what?" he blinks at you, dumbfounded, and you giggle at his slip-up. "who said that?"

"you're funny, sho." you try to ignore the way his eyes follow every movement of your hands as they swipe color over your lips and make last adjustments to your lashes. when you're done, he steps out of your way so you can take your numerous outfit choices to the bathroom, settling down next to your bed to help you decide like he'd done before. "this is a little different, you know," you say through the crack in bathroom door as you tug on your first arrangement. "before, you were helping me decide what to wear for school award ceremonies and stuff like that."

"i could still do that, if you want," he replies with complete sincerity. "i do still want to do that."

"it's a little weird to be dating your best friend, since i feel like you already know all the things that would make me a terrible person to date," you continue and he falls silent on the other side of the door, prompting you to peek out of the bathroom. "sho? is everything okay?"

"yes, everything is fine." there's the slightest dip in his perfect eyebrows that tell you otherwise.

"the 'no lying' rule carries over from friendship to dating, you know," you remind him casually and step out completely, turning in a circle for the full effect. "what do you think?"

"i think that's a bit...warm," he states bluntly. you blink at him and half expect him to laugh, but he doesn't. he's dead serious about you being too warm.

"i am a little warm, yes," you admit in your thick sweater and fleece stockings. "but, i'd also like to dress warmer than i need to because it's so much easier to cool off than it is to warm up."

"i can do both of those things for you," shoto declares. "why wouldn't i do both of those things for you?"

"i don't want you to hassle and need to use your quirk on date night." your voice trails off but he's having none of it.

"is this what you mean by 'things that make you a terrible person to date?' planning ahead so you're not a burden?" you shift your weight uncomfortably under his gaze and can't muster any other answer but shrugging.

"i just...i don't want you to need to change to accommodate me, now that we're together," you explain quietly. he stands and takes your hands in his, lacing your fingers together without a second thought. "if it's easier for me to be uncomfortable and you to be comfortable--"

"why is both of us being comfortable not a possibility?" he asks, tilting his head forward slightly. "why can you prioritize me but i cannot prioritize you?" you have no further argument but his point is hammered home. "do you love me as you wish to?"

"wholeheartedly."

"then let me love you as i wish to. wholeheartedly."

[spotaus]

Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)

Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)

Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?

[blue-eli]

Sketch of Cloud in drag which just turned into Cloud in a dress.

[solxamber]

i love your writing style smmm so could i request headcanons for ace (or any other charas if youd like ^^) reacting to a fem reader who usually wears really baggy outfits to hide the fact that theyre a girl and just generally doesnt really care too much if she looks presentable, suddenly getting dragged away and all dolled up because vil or someone sees their potential or just hates seeing them all disheveled. Would be really funny to see reader wearing clothes that shouldnt suit their usual messy but wearing clothes catered to their right gender just somehow compliments them in every way (maybe a little like haruhi from ouran lol)

Ace, Deuce reacting to a Glow Up

a/n: added deuce cause i can't separate adeuce, sorry for the long wait, i hope you like it <3

Ace Trappola

Ace isn’t the type to pay attention to small details, but when he sees you walking into the cafeteria all dolled up, he practically chokes on his drink. He does an actual spit-take, earning glares from everyone around him.

“Wait, what the—THAT’S the prefect?! No way! Did Vil brainwash you or something?”

True to form, Ace masks his flustered reaction with relentless teasing.

“Whoa, are you trying to get someone’s attention or what? Who’s the lucky guy, huh?”

But deep down, his brain is screaming, Oh no. They’re way too cute. Abort mission.

He cannot stop staring. He thinks he’s being subtle, but he’s absolutely not. Every time you look up, you catch him gawking at you from across the room. When you call him out on it, he quickly looks away and mutters, “W-What? No, I wasn’t staring. You’re imagining things.”

Ace keeps slipping up and saying things he doesn’t mean to out loud.

“I mean, you look… uh, decent, I guess.”

Five minutes later: “Okay, fine, you look great, but don’t let it go to your head!”

If anyone else compliments you, Ace suddenly gets super competitive.

“Oh, sure, they look good, but it’s not like that big of a deal. I mean, I’ve seen them in worse.”

He’s secretly seething every time someone even glances your way, but he plays it off with his usual cocky attitude.

He also starts overcompensating. Ace starts trying to act cooler around you to match your new look, which inevitably backfires. He’ll lean casually against a wall, trip over his own feet, and then pretend it didn’t happen.

“Yeah, uh… totally meant to do that. Just testing the floor’s stability.”

Despite all the teasing, Ace can’t help but soften a bit. He starts doing little things, like carrying your books or offering to help you with classwork (even though he’s probably worse at it than you are).

“What? I’m just being nice. Don’t read into it, okay?”

If you thank him or genuinely compliment him in return, Ace loses all composure.

“Y-Yeah, well, don’t get used to it! I’m not your servant or anything!”

Later, when he’s with Deuce and Grim, he won’t stop bringing up how “weird” it is to see you like this.

“It’s not that I care or anything, but like… did you see them? Who knew they could clean up like that? Crazy, right?”

Deuce, who has caught on, just side-eyes him. “Dude, you’re obsessed.”

One day, while you’re back in your baggy clothes, Ace blurts out:

“You know, you looked good all dressed up, but you’re fine like this too… Not like I care or anything!”

His face turns bright red, and he immediately backtracks, leaving you laughing at his expense.

In the Long Term:

He continues teasing you, but it’s lighter and less frequent, like he’s trying to cover up how much he actually liked seeing this new side of you.

Eventually, Ace becomes oddly protective of you when Vil tries to drag you off for another makeover. “Hey, leave them alone! They’re fine the way they are!”

He’ll never outright admit it, but your glow-up has him reevaluating his feelings—and now he’s in even deeper than before.

Deuce Spade

Deuce sees you walk into the cafeteria, and his entire brain just shuts down. He stops mid-bite of his lunch, fork suspended in the air, staring at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“...Is that… the prefect?” he whispers, nearly dropping his plate.

Deuce attempts to act normal, but he’s about as subtle as a brick through a window.

“Oh, hey! You, uh, look different. I mean, not in a bad way! Like, uh, good different! Wait, not that you didn’t look good before! I mean—uh…”

Cue him tripping over his own feet while trying to keep up with you.

He genuinely believes Vil might’ve forced you into this makeover.

“Are you okay? Did Vil threaten you or something? Blink twice if you need help!”

When you laugh and explain it was more or less voluntary, Deuce blushes furiously and mutters, “Oh. Well, um… you look really nice.”

When other students start complimenting you, Deuce doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’s proud that everyone is noticing how amazing you are. On the other, he’s irrationally annoyed by how much attention you’re getting.

“Yeah, yeah, they look great, okay? You don’t have to keep saying it!”

If anyone gets too bold with their compliments or tries to flirt with you, Deuce is immediately stepping in.

“Hey, back off! They don’t need your input!”

You have to gently remind him that people are just being nice.

No matter how hard he tries, Deuce keeps sneaking glances at you. When you catch him, he looks away so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“I wasn’t staring! I just… thought I saw something behind you!”

Deuce isn’t the smoothest when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he tries his best.

“You… you look amazing. Not that you didn’t before! But, uh, this is, like… wow. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

While Ace might tease you about your glow-up, Deuce’s first thought is whether or not you’re okay with all the attention.

"If you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything, just let me know, okay? I’ll tell everyone to back off.”

Deuce starts doing little things to make you smile, like grabbing extra napkins for you at lunch or awkwardly trying to help carry your things. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time.

Later that night, Deuce vents to Epel, pacing around the room.

“I mean, they’ve always been great, but now they look so… I don’t know! It’s distracting! What am I supposed to do, Epel?!”

Epel, munching on snacks, just rolls his eyes. “Wow, you’re hopeless.”

One day, when you’re back to your usual baggy clothes, Deuce finally works up the courage to say something genuine.

“You know, I thought you looked amazing all dressed up, but honestly? You don’t need all that. You’re already perfect the way you are.”

He says it so earnestly that you can’t help but smile, and his face immediately turns bright red. “I-I mean, uh, not perfect! I just—uh, never mind!”

In the Long Term:

Deuce continues to be your biggest supporter, quietly cheering you on from the sidelines while trying not to make his feelings too obvious.

He’s protective in the sweetest way, always ready to step in if Vil pushes you too hard or if anyone makes you uncomfortable.

Every once in a while, he’ll bring up how great you looked during your glow-up, but it’s always with a shy smile and a soft tone. It’s clear he liked it, but he also thinks you’re amazing just as you are.

Over time, Deuce starts to realize just how much he cares for you, and your glow-up only solidified what he was already feeling.

Masterlist

i didn't focus on the gender much but if that part is important let me know

[sports-on-sundays]

McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[hoshifighting]

       hoshi + playboy bunny

WARNINGS: +18, smut, halloween party both reader and hoshi are dressed as playboy bunny's, fingering, crying, penetrative sex, protected sex, all fours, riding, overstimulation, aftercare, mingyu give reader encouragement, crush!hoshi, squirting, he calls reader bunny.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“really playboy bunny? don’t you think this is too outdated?” you mutter, eyeing the little white pompom on your butt that sways every time you turn. you’re leaning forward at the mirror, tilting your head, lips pursed, wondering if this whole thing might just be too much. or maybe it’s not enough.

“y/n, every guy goes wild for this costume. it’s like... an unspoken rule.” mingyu’s sprawled across your bed, flicking through his phone, looking up just to roll his eyes. “especially if we’re talking about hoshi. dude practically loses his mind over anything with ears and a tail.”

you snort, shaking your head as you tug at the bodysuit, adjusting it for the hundredth time. “maybe he’ll just find it hilarious that i look like a bunny roadkill with ears sticking up like this.”

“nah, you look ridiculous in the best way.” he grins, propping himself up and giving you a once-over. “if you’re worried, i’ll lend you my jacket for the ride there. gotta protect my favorite attention magnet.”

that earns him a middle finger as you step back, but secretly, the idea of having mingyu’s huge jacket draped over you makes you feel a little more… armored. it’s one thing to strut around like this in the mirror, but another entirely when you’re gonna be walking into a party full of his friends, all of whom you know aren’t above throwing a snarky comment or two.

the cab ride to the party is a whole other level of weird. mingyu’s jacket hangs heavy on you, smelling like his cologne, like he’s smothering you in that woodsy scent that, admittedly, is kinda comforting. “feel like i’m cosplaying you,” you laugh, crossing your legs and watching his reflection as he watches you.

“yeah, yeah, just wait till we get there. you’re gonna be the highlight of the night,” he says, leaning back, eyes on you, like he’s planning something you don’t know about yet.

finally, you’re standing outside the house party, which is already buzzing loud enough you can feel the bass thumping up through the driveway. you hesitate for a sec, knowing the second you step inside, that jacket’s coming off. mingyu nudges you with an elbow, grinning.

it’s like a reveal, honestly. the minute you slip out of his jacket, it’s a ripple effect—heads turning, eyes widening, and then, just for a sec, silence falls across the group near the door. like the scene pauses for just one breath, and then someone’s like, “oh damn, y/n really came out tonight.”

mingyu just rolls his eyes and puts a hand on your shoulder, a little too casual, like he’s trying to ground you. “get your eyes off my friend, you creeps,” he laughs, but there’s a glint of pride there too, like he’s proud he dragged you out of your comfort zone.

and that’s when you see him—hoshi. he’s across the room, talking to some guy, laughing, and it takes you a second to realize he’s wearing…

bunny ears too.

only hoshi would have the audacity to go full playboy bunny, with the bow tie and all, shirtless, and he’s grinning, completely unbothered, his gaze wandering until he finally, finally spots you.

his grin freezes, and there’s a split second where you see his eyes drag down from your ears to your bodysuit, to the pompom swaying on your butt, and then back up to meet your eyes. and the look he gives you? god, it’s something straight out of a bad rom-com. he’s laughing, clearly in disbelief, mouthing something like “no way,” shaking his head. but then he just goes, “y/n? really?” crossing the room, and the grin on his face makes you feel like maybe you’ve outdone yourself.

“don’t laugh!” you say, smirking, and crossing your arms, even though the movement makes your boobs practically spill out of the bodysuit.

there’s no denying hoshi’s gaze keeps wandering, landing just below your face, like he’s trying not to be obvious about it and failing spectacularly.

his eyes are practically sparkling, and he’s already pulling you in, wrapping his arms around you in that way only he does, with that ridiculous amount of warmth and ease.

“you look insane!” he murmurs, his lips brushing your cheek as he plants a quick kiss there, his bare chest pressing against you. you barely have a moment to react before mingyu’s strolling up behind him, still holding that jacket he promised, but instead of handing it to you, he pauses, raises a brow, and gives hoshi a smirk. then, without missing a beat, he does the oldest, dirtiest gesture in the book—index finger slipping through a circle he makes with his other hand, his eyes meeting yours with this knowing, wicked look. and god, you can feel the heat rush straight to your cheeks.

hoshi chuckles, and he glances back at mingyu, he catches it, and his eyes go wide, cheeks flushing in that cute, bashful way that’s so him. “mingyu, dude, could you be more obvious?” he laughs.

“i mean, come on,” mingyu shrugs, crossing his arms and nodding at you. “you don’t get all dolled up like this for no reason, right? thought you might as well go all the way.”

you laugh, nudging hoshi’s shoulder as he pulls back slightly, still not quite letting go. “yeah, yeah, keep it up, mingyu, and i’ll start charging for every stare you throw my way.”

hoshi grins, leaning in closer, his voice dropping a little. “they might actually make some cash tonight,” he teases, nudging your hip playfully looking at his friends in the corner, his gaze still locked on yours, even as mingyu scoffs and steps back, giving you both a moment of space.

“oh, please, hoshi,” you mutter, trying to keep your equilibrium. “you’re staring just as much as they are, don’t even pretend.”

“can you blame me?” he says, eyes drifting down before they snap back up to yours. “i mean, i didn’t expect this level of… commitment,” he smirks, giving you an exaggerated once-over, his fingers toying with the little bit of fluff on your bunny ears. “you’re really going all in, huh?”

“well, it was either this or come as a pirate,” you reply, shrugging, though you’re hyper-aware of how close he is. “but i figured you’d like this more.”

he raises an eyebrow, leaning in even closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “oh, i do. believe me. i mean, you’re practically a professional bunny now. we might have to get you a part-time gig at some club or something.”

“ha! you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you tease back, nudging him, but your voice has this slight waver that you can’t quite control, because he’s watching you with this intent, focused look, like he’s memorizing every little detail.

“you have no idea,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes suddenly serious, like he’s not even joking. he lets his gaze linger on you, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip just slightly, and it’s impossible to ignore the warmth blooming in your chest.

“are you gonna keep staring all night, or do i get to enjoy this party?” you finally say, raising an eyebrow, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

he grins, leaning back just slightly, though his hand finds your waist, steadying you as the crowd around you shifts. “oh, i’ll stop staring, sure—right after i get my dance,” he says, voice playful again, but his eyes are still so fixed on you. “come on, you owe me one for showing up looking like that.”

“oh, you think i owe you?” you laugh, folding your arms, but before you know it, hoshi’s pulling you toward the dance floor, his hand warm on your back, guiding you through the crowd. he’s animated, so full of energy, laughing and joking as he leads you, and there’s this playful tension between you, like he’s daring you to match his pace.

once you’re in the thick of it, surrounded by bodies moving and music thumping, he spins you around, catching you off guard as he pulls you closer, his hands landing on your hips. “so… what’s the story here?” he says, voice hardly audible over the music, but his eyes are sparkling with curiosity. “is this all for fun, or is there, i don’t know, something more going on?”

“hoshi, please,” you roll your eyes, though you’re grinning, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into him. “you really think i’d go through all this trouble for just anyone?”

he laughs, clearly pleased with himself, and there’s this smug little tilt to his smile. “so… just for me, then?” he raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he’s enjoying this way too much, practically reveling in it.

“maybe,” you shrug, though you’re fully aware of how close his hands are to the edge of your bodysuit, and the way his thumbs trace small circles on your waist is definitely not helping your focus. “guess you’ll have to keep wondering.”

“oh, that’s cold, y/n...” he says, laughing.

the music’s pulsing, and after a couple more songs, you’re breathless, finally pulling back just a little to catch your breath. “so… you planning on letting me go any time soon?” you say, grinning up at him.

hoshi just shakes his head, his hand holding onto yours and tugging you back in. “you think i’m letting someone as hot as you walk around here alone?” he says, pouting a little, his gaze dipping over you one more time, like he can’t help himself. you laugh, rolling your eyes, but it doesn’t stop that little thrill in your chest, the way he looks at you.

it’s around then that you feel a light tap on your shoulder, and when you turn, chan’s there, his usual grin stretched wide. “hey, y/n,” he greets, eyes flicking over to hoshi before he gently nudges him aside with a laugh. hoshi just shakes his head, moving back a bit, arms crossed as he watches, but that little smile doesn’t leave his face.

“hey, chan,” you say, leaning against the wall, still feeling that buzzing energy from dancing with hoshi. chan’s energy is a little lighter, a little easier, and it’s somehow refreshing. he leans close, resting one arm on the wall beside you, talking animatedly about something that happened earlier with mingyu, his other hand occasionally landing on your shoulder or arm. his fingers linger a little longer every time, but it’s friendly enough—though maybe a bit more touchy than usual.

you catch hoshi’s gaze from across the room, watching as his eyes narrow, the subtle flick of his jaw as he takes a long sip from his drink, looking way too calm. he’s still keeping that sharp eye on chan, like he’s waiting for him to do something worth stepping in for.

chan’s mid-sentence when you turn, pointing out the fluffy pompom on the back of your outfit. “look, they even gave me the tail and everything,” you laugh, turning slightly so he can see. chan’s grin widens, and he laughs, reaching out and squeezing the pompom gently with a playful chuckle.

he’s still laughing, his fingers tapping the fluffy tail, but your eyes slide over to hoshi again, and this time, he’s not sipping his drink anymore—he just downs what’s left in his cup, sets it aside, and begins walking toward you both. chan’s laugh stumbles a little as he catches sight of hoshi, and that easy confidence slips for just a second.

“hey, chan,” hoshi says, his voice light, though there’s a weight to it, an edge under the friendly tone. “mind if i steal y/n for a bit?”

chan gives a little nod, scratching his neck, though you can tell he’s unsure. “yeah, sure,” he says, stepping back, the wide smile he’d had now just a polite curve.

hoshi moves in, fingers finding your wrist, and he leans in close, his breath brushing your ear. “i’ll be waiting for you in my room,” he murmurs. he lets go of your wrist and heads toward the stairs, glancing back over his shoulder once before disappearing up them, leaving you rooted in place for a second.

“uh, sorry, chan,” you say, laughing a little to ease the tension, though your mind’s definitely upstairs now. chan brushes it off with a casual smile, telling you to go, and you slip through the crowd, making your way to the kitchen, where mingyu’s already there, nursing a drink.

you pull him to the side, leaning close. “emergency!,” you whisper, eyes wide. “hoshi told me to meet him in his bedroom.”

mingyu’s eyes go wide, practically bugging out of his head as he glances between you and the stairs. “are you serious?” he almost chokes, grinning like he’s the one who just got invited. “finally! no more listening to you go on about hoshi’s insane body and that stupid smirk he does. you elbow him, but he’s just laughing, a little too pleased about it. “so… what are you still doing here?” he says, lifting a brow. “need me to hold your hand up the stairs?”

“shut up!” you hiss, feeling the nerves hit you full force now that you’re actually thinking about it. “it’s… it’s hoshi, okay? i don’t just wanna walk up there like i’m—i don’t know, desperate or something.”

he rolls his eyes, shaking his head like you’re missing something obvious. “and you’re not desperate?” he says, giving you a look. “come on, this is the guy you’ve been daydreaming about. just go up there and knock his socks off!”

you hesitate, chewing your lip, and mingyu sighs, reaching around the counter, grabbing a bottle of tequila. he twists the cap, holding it up. “one shot for courage?” he grins, tipping the bottle towards your lips, and you let him pour, feeling the burn slide down your throat as you gulp it down.

“better?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows. he places his hands on your shoulders, giving you a small shake before he adjusts your bunny ears and fixes a few stray strands of hair.

you breathe out, nerves prickling along your skin, like you’re about to float right out of your body. “mingyu, if i faint, just drag me back down here, okay?” you half-joke, still clutching onto his arm.

he laughs, ruffling your hair again, “you’re not gonna faint. i’ll walk you to the first step though.” he gives you one last nudge, and you make it to the stairs, glancing back as he calls, “promise me you’re gonna leave this party still walking, yeah?”

you roll your eyes, giving him one last scolding look before climbing up. every step feels like a whole saga, until you’re finally at his door, just barely cracked open like it’s waiting for you. you press your fingers to the handle, steadying yourself before slipping inside and closing it gently behind you.

hoshi’s already sitting there on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide, hands braced behind him. his head’s tilted back, one brow raised with this faint smirk as he takes you in, the way your chest’s heaving just a bit too fast, cheeks already flushed. you try to calm your breathing, pressing your lips together to keep from biting them as you close the door clicking the door locked, fingers gripping the door handle as you stand there.

“c’mon, you don’t have to stand there looking all shy now,” he says, tapping his thigh, the grin on his face widening. “come here, bunny. this is what you came up here for, right?”

your heart races as you walk over, feeling every nerve in your body sparking up, and you place one knee beside him before swinging the other over so you’re straddling him, knees sinking into the bed on either side of his thighs. he settles his hands on your hips, pulling you down snug against him. you try to lean in, but he just leans back, grinning even wider.

“don’t be in such a rush,” he murmurs, his lips hovering just out of reach. “you’re already here, got all night.”

his fingers slide up your sides, over the curve of your waist, tracing every line slowly, he tilts his head, leaning closer to your neck, his breath brushing against your skin. you shiver, barely able to hold back a sigh as his lips graze your neck, soft, teasing.

“you know, i couldn’t even focus downstairs,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a lingering kiss just below your ear. “every time i looked over, there you were… flaunting that little tail.” he chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling against your collarbone. “knew you’d come find me sooner or later.”

his hands trail down to your hips, squeezing just enough to make you feel it, but he still doesn’t kiss you, his mouth just brushing along your jaw, teasing. he’s watching every reaction, every twitch, like he’s got all the time in the world.

“you look too damn good,” he murmurs, hands sliding up to your waist again, thumbs brushing the fabric stretched tight. “been wanting to tell you that since you walked in.”

your hands slide over his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin, and you’re practically holding your breath, waiting for him to just close that last bit of space, to kiss you for real. but he just smirks, still dragging this out, his lips pressing another slow, hot kiss to your neck, then another, his hands tightening around you.

his fingers dip down, right between the base of your thighs, grazing that sensitive spot over your bodysuit. “oh, what’s this?” he hums, eyes glinting as his fingers press, right there, making you jump a little, gasping as he just laughs taunting. “nervous, bunny? you’ve been putting on quite the show tonight. kinda expected you to be ready for this.”

he brings his hand back up, dragging it slowly along the side of your thigh, back to where the tail rests. his fingers play with it, tugging gently, brushing against your skin through the fabric. “got you all dolled up like this, bouncing around with that little fluff. you know what that does to a guy?” he clicks his tongue, tilting his head and letting his mouth hover so close to yours that your lips practically ache, but just before you lean in, he pulls back, smirking when he sees you bite down on a whine.

“you want me to kiss you?” he teases, eyebrows quirking as his lips almost touch yours, only to pull back again. “look at you, bunny. i can feel you shaking, can practically see how bad you want it. all this fuss just to be up here in my lap, begging for it.” his eyes get that mischievous glint, watching you intently.

his hand drifts down again, his middle finger pressing between your thighs, applying just enough pressure through the thin fabric that you feel every inch of him pressing against you. you can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes, your hips shifting as if you could get closer. “oh?” his voice is all smooth, leaning close, whispering in your ear as he chuckles. “think i feel something here. been this worked up for me all night, hm? tell me, bunny.”

he moves his hand just enough to pull the bodysuit aside, and his fingers brush against you, bare and wet, sensitive enough that the slightest touch makes your breath hitch. he pauses, lets out a soft groan, pulling back to look down at his fingers. “damn, you’re soaked.” he lifts his fingers to show you, glistening, and then lets them trail back down, tracing circles that make your legs tremble. “you weren’t kidding, were you? knew you wanted me bad, but this…” he laughs softly, his breath hot against your neck as he presses a kiss there. “never thought you’d be this needy.”

you try to stammer something back, but words feel impossible with the way his fingers keep moving, steady and slow, as if he’s luxuriating in every reaction. “c’mon, bunny,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping inside, pussy so wet and greedy, sucking it all in, finding you so easily that you can barely catch your breath. “give me something. tell me how long you’ve been wanting this.”

“h-hoshi…” you gasp, feeling your cheeks go even redder as he laughs, clearly pleased with himself.

“yeah?” he whispers, fingers pressing deeper, making your whole body respond, legs clenching around him. “don’t hold back. i’m right here.”

you let yourself go, your body responding to the way his fingers move, slick and ribbing, the wet sounds are almost embarrassing, echoing in the quiet of the room, but he’s not even trying to hide his laughter, each laugh dripping with that dark, horned-up energy that makes your stomach twist.

“you’re really getting into this, hm? riding my fingers like a little bunny in heat. thought you were shy?” his eyes are gleaming, and you can see that he’s practically losing his mind with lust, just as you are. the way your hips instinctively rock against his fingers is making it hard for him to think straight.

“hoshi-ah!—” you manage to gasp, your body feels electrified, like every nerve is lit up, and the pressure building inside you makes it hard to focus on anything else. he laughs, that low, throaty sound, clearly enjoying the way you’re unraveling in his hands.

“what? can’t handle it? not my fault you look so damn cute like this,” he teases. “there we go, that’s my girl. just keep riding me like that. you’ve got this.”

you grip his shoulders, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin as your eyes roll back, threatening to take you somewhere blissful and hazy. it’s like the world around you fades away, and all you can focus on is him—his fingers, still buried deep inside you, pushing you closer to that edge you desperately try to reach. the slick sounds of your pussy mix with his labored breaths, a soundtrack of pure sex echoing off the walls.

“wait,” he suddenly breathes out, his voice strained. your heart races as he shifts, trying to find a condom somewhere in the chaos that is his bedroom. even as he rummages around, his fingers stay just where they are, still pressed against you.

“hoshi…” you murmur, your voice shaky as you feel that lingering sensitivity from his touch. he glances up at you completely consumed by you.

“just a second,” he manages, and you can see how hard it is for him to keep his focus as he finally finds the little foil packet. he leans back, pulling you closer, and there’s a wicked smile playing on his lips. “herre, you do it. i wanna watch you.”

you nod, hands shaking as you reach for the condom, your fingers fumbling slightly with the package. he resumes his teasing fingers, moving them inside you, and your breath hitches.

“god, you feel incredible,” he murmurs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he watches you, mesmerized by how easily you respond to him. your moans escape before you can hold them back, and you feel your cheeks flush even hotter.

“m’not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he warns, but his voice betrays him, coming out breathy as he gives a playful thrust of his fingers, coaxing more sounds from you.

he resumes the rhythm of his fingers, and the sensation almost makes you forget what you’re doing. “ah—hoshi!”

“feel good?” he asks, like he’s genuinely concerned for your pleasure.

“y-yeah,” you gasp, riding the waves he creates, trying to keep yourself steady as the pleasure builds again. “so good.”

hands are trembling as you reach for him, fingers fumbling over the buttons of his jeans, your breath hitching in your throat. “it’s… it’s kinda tight,” you admit, biting your lip, you can feel his excitement growing, and it only makes you even more nervous.

“don’t worry about it. just take your time. i’m right here,” he reassures, with that, you unbutton his jeans, sliding them down just enough to expose him, and your heart skips a beat as you lower his underwear, finally revealing him to you.

your hands tremble as you reach for him, the feeling of his fingers still lingering on your skin making it hard to focus. but you do your best, slipping the rubber over his length, feeling how hard he is, and the way he breathes out sharply when you finally make contact. it makes you swell with confidence.

“wow,” you breathe, your eyes widening as you take him inside the rubber. he looks so delicious, so ready for you.

“like what you see?” he teases, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as he lays back comfortably, pulling you to him. his hand intertwine with yours, guiding you as you slide the condom on him.

“yeah, i do.”

“good.”

“hoshi, please…” you plead, you want nothing more than to feel him inside you. “i need you.”

“patience, bunny,” he murmurs, teasing you with every thrust of his fingers. “you’ve got to show me how bad you want it. ride my fingers like you did before, and then we’ll see.”

you moan, the sound echoing in the room as you start to move your hips against his fingers, rocking back and forth, feeling that familiar tension building again. “i’m trying!” you whine. “but it feels so good… i don’t want to wait.”

“i get it. trust me, i want you too. just hold on a little longer,” he encourages, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you. you feel like you’re melting under his gaze.

the pace of his fingers increases, and you can feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, your breathing becoming more erratic as the sensations grow stronger. “i can’t… hoshi, i can’t hold back much longer,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.

“let go for me, baby,” he breathes, pushing you further and further to that edge. “just let it all out, and then we can really have some fun. i want to feel you fall apart.”

the moment he feels you squelch around his fingers, a wicked grin spreads across hoshi's face. he uses his fingers to spread you wider, that little pompom bouncing slightly as he watches you melt. but before you can melt completely, he guides you down onto him, urging you to sink onto his waiting cock—all in. and just like that, you're sent spiraling to hell and back in the middle of your orgasm.

a scream escaping your lips as you bury your face into his chest. your cries ringing in his ears, a sweet melody.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, feeling the rapid thump of your heart against his chest. “you good?” he asks, his fingers slide down your back, gentle and soothing, trying to help you catch your breath as his cock twitches inside you. “you looked like you were about to explode.”

“i—i think i did,” you mumble, still a little dazed. the pompom on your costume sways with every quiver, a ridiculous but endearing sight that makes his grin widen. “hoshi, i—oh my god, it’s too much!” your voice comes out in a high-pitched whine when he grinds up.

you bury your face against him, seeking comfort in the warmth of his body, and the sound of his heartbeat thrumming against your cheek calms the storm inside you, if only just a little.

“i know it feels like a lot, but just wait. will be good, i promise. will ride me so good... my bunny..”

the thought makes u all horny again, and you can’t help but squirm as you process what he’s suggesting. “but… what if I can’t?” you stutter, glancing away shyly.

“you can, I promise,” he insists, his eyes softening as he leans closer, brushing his lips against your cheek. “I’ll take care of you, and I’ll make sure you feel every second of it. just trust me.” his words are a warm caress, soothing the lingering worries, and the way he says it makes you feel safe.

he raises your head just enough to capture your lips, and it’s like a combustion igniter between you. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting you, teasing you with a sluggish kiss that makes you melt. it’s rousing, and you find yourself leaning into him, wanting more, craving the heat radiating off his body.

with a speedy movement, his other hand spreads your ass, giving him a better grip as he pulls you closer. “let’s get you to ride me, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips, and the way he says it makes your heart race even faster. you can barely comprehend.

“hoshi, i—” but you can’t finish your thought; he’s already guiding you, and your body instinctively responds, you can’t help but gasp into the kiss, breaking it as you try to regain your composure.

“can’t believe how wet you are for me. it drives me insane.”

“you’re so much, hoshi,” you admit, you begin to move, lifting your hips and then sinking down slowly, feeling every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely. you can’t help but moan, eyes fluttering shut.

“yes, just like that,” he urges, his hands squeezing your hips. “you’re doing amazing, baby. keep going.” the way he praises you pushes you to ride him harder, to take more of him.

“hoshi!” you gasp, feeling the inferno pool deep in your belly. you can’t believe how good it feels to finally be connected with him like this, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

he grunts, flipping you around and positioning you on all fours, your bunny tiara tumbling onto the sheets as you crawl onto the bed. the fabric beneath you is soft but the way he thrusts into you is anything but gentle.

“come on, y/n, keep that ass up for me,” he growls, his breath heavy as he digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place. “you wanna feel me deeper, right? i need to see you like this.”

you can merely hold yourself up as his thrusts grow stronger, sending your body forward with each powerful push. “hoshi, please,” you whimper, trying to maintain your balance as your body instinctively responds to him.

“please what?” he teases, his fingers tightening around your hips, his grip possessive. “are you begging for me? ‘cause if you don’t keep that ass up, i might just stop right here.” he emphasizes the last part with another hard thrust that makes you gasp, your body aching for more.

“i’m trying—fuck, fuck!” you manage to say, he’s watching you, waiting for you to comply, adds an edge of desperation to your movements.

“good girl,” he murmurs, he thrusts again, and you can feel him so deep inside you that it’s almost too much to bear. “you’re so fucking tight, y/n. it’s like you were made for me.”

you can’t help but push back against him, trying to find that perfect angle. “hoshi, please—don’t stop. i need more,” you plead.

“that’s what i like to hear,” he says. “you’re such a little minx, crawling around in that cute little outfit. it’s making it hard to think straight.” he shifts his angle slightly, hitting your g'spot with his bulbous cockhead.

the tears fill your eyes, your face twists, turning into full-blown sobs as he hits the spot again and again, you don't have more control of your body, hips slumping on bed.

“oh, baby,” hoshi coos, his voice softening as he notices. he pauses for a moment, his movements halting, but then he grips you by the hair hair roughly, pulling you back just enough to arch your back. “don’t cry. talk to me. what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“i’m so close!” you cry, your voice cracking as you cling to the sheets, your body arching to meet his hips again.

he resumes thrusting into you, but this time it’s different—he pushes with more strength, less rhythm, like he’s trying to anchor you back to the moment. “focus on me,” he murmurs “feel every inch of me. let go of everything else.”

he smiles when he sees you react again, your eyes rolling when e lift your hips again, fucking his cock inside your swollen cunt until you spill around him. “you’re so fucking beautiful when you cry.. it makes me want to break you again and again.”

you clench tight around him, every nerve ending sparking to life, with each powerful thrust, hoshi drives you further into that delicious abyss. your body instinctively responds to him, tightening and fluttering around his length.

“oh fuck!— clench around me like that… just like that.”

you respond instinctively, clenching tighter, the action earning you a sharp intake of breath from him.

you’re clenching harder than ever, your mouth falling agape as the waves of pleasure crash over you like an unstoppable tide. hoshi can feel it; the way your body is tightening around him, squeezing him just right. he knows he’s close, too.

his fingers work their magic on your clit, massaging it furiously, until you gush around him, which he wished he could feel on his bare cock. “i can’t hold it!” you gasp, and as if hearing your plea, he speeds up, his fingers dancing over your sensitive clit.

“that’s it, y/n! let it out!”

a scream that echoes in the room even though the party's music bothered the whole time. you squirt, soaking the sheets and his body, hoshi couldn't hold after that. not here, not there. never. you looked so fucked out. because of... him?

“fuck, yes! just like that,” hoshi growls, his breath hitching as he feels you soak him, the slickness making your movements sloppier, until you fall completely on the bed.

he pulls out and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. you hear the faint sounds of running water in the room.

hoshi watches you for a moment, your breathing slow and steady now, the remnants of bliss still evident on your face. he chuckles softly, shaking his head at how you’ve managed to turn his entire bed into a scene straight out of a movie.

“hey, y/n,” he says again, his voice a gentle nudge to bring you back to reality. “you still with me?”

you blink your eyes open, the world coming back into focus, and a lazy smile spreads across your lips.

“i think we need to do some cleaning.”

“cleaning?” you echo, glancing down at the damp sheets, realizing just how soaked they really are. your cheeks blush, as your mouth open. you don't even have the chance to say sorry before he's patting you.

“please, don't be embarassed! can you lift up a bit? i need to roll this off so we can get to the fresh stuff.”

“sure,” you mumble shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. as you raise your hips slightly, he deftly pulls the duvet from under you, rolling it away to expose the clean sheets beneath.

hoshi carefully grabs a towel, its soft texture feeling comforting against your skin. he starts by dabbing gently at your body, wiping away the remnants of sex, his touch both tender and teasing. “you know, you really went all out with that costume. it’s a shame to see it go,” he smirks, as he deftly removes the bodysuit, revealing your bare skin underneath.

“it was cute, right? but not super comfy,” you admit, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

“definitely cute, but a bit too tight for my liking,” he jokes, tossing the towel aside and reaching for one of his oversized shirts hanging on the back of the door. he holds it up with a grin, the fabric slightly wrinkled but still looking inviting. “how about this? it’s way more comfortable. you can borrow it for the night.”

you nod eagerly, slipping into the shirt as he helps you pull it over your head. it swallows you whole, the fabric falling down to your thighs and making you feel cozy. “ah, much better,” you sigh, relishing the softness.

hoshi watches you with a smilling like a fool. “you look adorable.” he teases, his eyes sparkling. “um...i’m going to let mingyu know you’re sleeping with me here tonight, alright? he’ll freak out if he thinks you’re wandering home alone at this hour.”

“oh... thank you soonyoungie” you agree, flopping back onto the bed, the soft sheets welcoming you. “but don’t take too long! i might fall asleep before you come back.”

“no way! can’t have that happen,” he says, slipping into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. he flashes you a quick wink before heading towards the door. “i’ll be back in a flash. just hold tight, alright?”

[puckinghischier]

What do I have to do to get some filthy Nico thoughts this morning? Xoxo

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.

“good news, neeks,” is all you managed to get out before he was stomping towards you, backing you against the floor-to-ceiling shelving of the closet. a few shoes dropped off the shelf at the force of his actions, but that was the least of your worries right now. you could fix them in the morning, considering the two of you never managed to leave the space the whole night, waking up on the carpeted floor to his soft snores, one of his suit jackets draped over your naked body as a makeshift blanket.

[deonsx]

Second Request U can egnore! Rin's gi¹rlfriend loves to dress him and brags about the beauty of her boyfriend, she usually go shop for him (with his money ofc) and forget to buy herself anything the point that his clothes is more than her's! Nprp cuz rinnie will buy for her instead and make her wear his clothes🙂‍↔️💞

hiiii I hope it turns out the way you want, thank you for adding imagination to me.

Rin’s girlfriend loves dressing him up. It’s her favorite pastime, though Rin himself finds it mildly embarrassing. One Saturday, she drags him to a clothing store under the guise of “just browsing.” Of course, Rin knows what’s coming but goes along with it, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his usual stoic expression in place

After a couple of hours of her making him try on countless outfits, she holds up a sleek jacket and says “This would look amazing on you! Try it!”

Rin sighs but doesn’t resist, slipping it on while she beams. As he steps out of the fitting room, she gasps dramatically and says “See? You’re ridiculously good-looking! It’s almost unfair”

Rin, slightly flustered, mutters “You’re overreacting” But the faint blush on his cheeks gives him away. Later, Rin notices that while she’s piled his arms with clothes to buy, she hasn’t picked out a single thing for herself. When he points this out, she waves it off casually saying “I’m fine! I just love shopping for you”

The next day, Rin quietly goes shopping by himself and buys a few things for her, including a dress he’s sure she’ll like. When he gets home, he hands her the bag without much ceremony and says “You’re not allowed to forget yourself. Wear this tomorrow”

She’s surprised but grins brightly, teasing “Aw, you’re so thoughtful, Rinnie! But why do I feel like you just want me to stop wearing your hoodies all the time?”

Rin shrugs, barely reacting, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he replies “Maybe. Or maybe I think you’d look better in my clothes anyway” The following morning, she steps out in the dress Rin picked, only for him to grab one of his oversized hoodies and toss it over her head “Looks better now” he says simply, but his smirk betrays his satisfaction

Sweet Dynamic:

She loves bragging about how gorgeous Rin is to anyone who’ll listen, much to his annoyance “Did you see my boyfriend? Isn’t he ridiculously handsome?!”Rin, meanwhile, tries to pretend he doesn’t hear, though his ears turn red every time while she’s busy spoiling him

Rin quietly takes care of her in his own way—whether it’s making sure her favorite snacks are stocked or slipping a hoodie over her shoulders when she’s cold

Her wardrobe gradually fills up with Rin’s hoodies, jackets, and even a few T-shirts she steals from him. Rin doesn’t really mind—he thinks she looks better in his clothes anyway

When she gets carried away shopping for Rin, he eventually just picks out something for her, hands it to the cashier, and says “She’ll take this too”

When she teases him about how his wardrobe is ten times bigger than hers now, Rin deadpans “Your fault. You picked everything”

Enjoy!

[simpjaes]

Pomellato Jay giving me brothers bff thoughts😮‍💨

1:27 a.m.

You all just came home from a party. Jay saw you shivering bc your skimpy little dress was perfect to tease him, but didn’t help with the weather outside. So him, being the sweet gentlemen he is, gave you his black blazer. It covered you completely, and it made you look as if you had nothing beneath it; which was driving Jay insane…

Your phone started to ping next to you:

1:27 a.m - Jay:

- Could you please go change your clothes

1:27 a.m - You:

- why? I feel cozy with your blazer on..

1:29 a.m - Jay:

- That’s not it

- I can’t control myself in front of your brother

1:31 a.m - Jay:

- please baby

- Or go wait for me upstairs

HELPPPPPPPP

i hope you don't mind me changing the text string. wc: 833 ~

1:27 a.m - Jay: you're home now, can i please have my blazer back?

1:27 a.m - You: but whyyyyyy, its so comfy

1:29 a.m - Jay: just....please You glance at him, noting how stiff he appears compared to his usual, relaxed and casual self. Your brother, sitting on the other side of him flipping through some streaming app with a bored sigh. Now, you look down at yourself, back to Jay, back down at yourself, then you curl up on the couch. Smirking a little bit because you're well aware that the blazer rides up, dragging your skirt with it.

1:34 a.m - Jay: fucking stop doing that

1:35 a.m - You: getting excited? 1:35 a.m - Jay: what do you think? You watch him closer, seeing the way he looks at you before glancing towards Jake nervously. "Jake?" You suddenly say, breaking the silence in the room [bc jake still hasn't landed on a fucking show.] "Hm?" He pays no mind, still focused on the tv. "Where is your watch? Weren't you wearing it earlier?" He wasn't. You know he wasn't, but sometimes gaslighting is okay. "Was I?" He says, now sitting up. "Fuck, where did it go?" "I think you left it at Heeseung's place. Might wanna go get it before someone steals it." Jake doesn't even question it, hopping up with a muttered curse under his breath and heading out the door without even looking back at you or his best friend. Silence fills the room, except now...it's loud. "You want me to give you your blazer back?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a cheeky smirk. "You know what you're doing." He groans, finally relaxing his body and sinking into the couch. His legs spread out wide when he throws his head back in that same groan, and you can't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobs through a swallow. "It's been a couple of weeks, you know-" You start, slipping the blazer off of you and making sure the straps of your tank top slide down with it. "Was starting to think you really didn't want me anymore." Jay grimaces. He feels guilty for so many things. One, you're his best friend's sister. Two, he knows if Jake found out, the friendship would sour. Three, he still wants you so fucking bad he could genuinely cum right fucking now if you so much as say his name. After seeing you like that in his clothes, arguably better when you're entirely naked? His kind gesture backfired so goddamn fast. He remembered instantly the last time you were on top of him, missing the feeling of you so badly. The way his blazer fits you now, the way you swim in the fabric, the way you refuse to take it off. He knows you still want him too. And, well, Jake's not here. "You clever little-" He pauses, seeing your bare shoulders as his blazer slides down. Your thighs still bare and exposed from under it. "Fuck." You stand now, fully removing his blazer and revealing the same slutty outfit you wore tonight. Was it to get on his nerves? Yes. Was it to get on his cock? Yes. Jake wasn't too fond of you dressed like this, but who fucking cares about what he thinks anyway? "Just one more time?" You ask now, more innocently. All while rubbing your thighs together and using one hand to slide up your shirt. "We can make it fast." Jay rolls his eyes, the twitch in his pants growing thicker and thicker, to the point he cant help but grab at himself now. Another groan, and his eyes narrow at you. "You want it fast?" He asks now, the same sultry tone you had grown to miss so much. "And hard." You add, throwing yourself back on the couch and making sure your legs are spread. Wide. It's not long before you feel his familiar hands pressing your wrists into the cushions, hovering over you and blatantly pressing himself between your thighs. "You miss it that much?" He asks in a raspy whisper, smirking only slightly at the face you make in response. Only because he's fucked his fist to that same face so many goddamn times. "Mhm." You hum, wiggling a bit under him. "Don't you?" He breaks at that point, releasing one of your wrists and shoving it down his pants, all so he can bury himself into you without fuss. No foreplay, no teasing, no grinding. Just pure penetration. There's a moan from him that fills your ears, one that sounds more desperate than he would normally sound. Just a few weeks ago it was you sounding like that. Whiny, needy. "Fuck, yeah I do." He breathes this time, holding his breath as he does as he promised. Fast. hard. So fast, and so hard, that neither of you hear the door unlocking and Jake prancing in before freezing on the spot. "You motherfucker." ~

[mattslolita]

꒰ biker!matt sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have met you at a party, no doubt — he noticed you in your short, black dress with the ribbon tied in your locs as you stood around uneasily among the crowd of people you didn't know. he made it his mission to have spoke to you by the end of the night. sweet, unsuspecting you wouldn't have realized he'd been standing near you until you accidentally get bumped against him as he's leaning against a wall.

"oh! m'so sorry bout' that, i didn't see you there."

"s'alright, sweetheart. why's a sweet girl like you doin' at a party like this anyway, huh?"

"my friend dragged me here, i'd be home reading if i had it my way."

"want me to take ya home?"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ take you on a long, late night ride whilst you fill his head with any random thought that pops into your head — and as time goes on, you find yourself on more late night bike rides around the city with him, your figure huddled up close to his as you enjoy the breeze that sifts alongside you both.

biker!matt would . . .

✦ keep you close to him when you guys go out — his hand hangs dangerously low on your hips just above your skirt, and when he feels you drifting away he's immediately pulling you back towards him.

"aht, stop movin' around so much."

"sorry..."

✦ when you're leaning against his bike, he's got both if his hands resting right above your ass while massaging your lower back area. and he enjoys how flustered you get when his hands are on that particular part of your body — it's fun watching you squirm slightly under his touch.

"s'got you so worked up doll, huh? stay still..."

"keep your hand up there, an' maybe i could!"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ love picking out your outfits — his favorites are the cute little mini skirts you wear paired with a cute cardigan and matching bows that go in your hair.

✦ doesn't hesitate to take you shopping, either per your request or just because he wants to do something nice for you. he'll watch you pick out whatever you like, then let you drag him into the dressing rooms as you try on various outfits.

"whatcha think about this skirt? is it too short?"

"makes your ass pop out nicely. put it in the cart."

"matt!"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ unfortunately not put a label on you guy's relationship — he's not one to trust easily, so he's not ready to give you that title yet. however, he'd do things to let others know you're off limits such as...

biker!matt would . . .

✦ let you wear his signature leather jacket, no doubt because he wants everyone to know that you're his. if you're at some kind of outing, he'll casually drape it over your shoulders and shoot a death glare to anyone who even thinks about trying it.

✦ he'll make you put his jacket on when you insist on straying away from him to join your friends, but the jacket made sure to serve its purpose as a constant reminder to anyone.

"y'keep this on, 'kay? don't need anybody thinkin' they can try it."

"i highly doubt they will matt, i'm-"

"y'know i don't take no for an answer, bunny. keep the jacket on, got it?"

"yes sir."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ never let you smoke cigarettes, yet he keeps his marlboros tucked in the pocket of you denim skirt or your pocket in your cardigan — you got a custom made blue, eeyore lighter just for him.

"here, come light this f'me sweetheart."

✦ he's holding the cancer stick up to his lips whilst you flick the lighter on, getting momentarily distracted by how the fire accentuates his features but you focus again as the fire catches onto the cigarette successfully.

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

biker!matt would . . .

✦ fuck you against his bike any chance you got — he'd have you bent over, your hands perched on the seat as he's pounding into you from behind mercilessly.

"fuck, gonna make a mess all over my bike, aren't ya?"

"thas it sweet girl, fuckin' take it."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have his hands all over you — his ring clad hands with either be wrapped around your neck whilst he's got you in missionary and doggy,

"fuckin' like being choked, sweetheart? wan' me to do it harder? such a naughty girl..."

✦ or they're groping your titties whilst you ride him.

"jus' like that doll, doin' so good f'me..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have a major corruption kink — everyone thinks you're his sweet, innocent girl clad in her cute bows and quiet personality; but matt knows better, and every chance he gets he's always reminding you about how he knows you're a freak ass on the low.

"always so quiet got nothin' comin' out ya mouth, now you're chokin on my dick like the good slut you are..."

"you like bein' fucked like this, don't you? such a naughty girl, so perfect f'me..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ make you cockwarm him at parties when you guys are sitting alone, on the couch or something — if you're moving around too much, he's thrusting up into you subtly to get you to stop.

"s'not that hard doll. jus' sit still, got it? don't you dare move."

"fuck, matt..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ be a brat tamer! you might be quiet and sweet most of the time, but when you act out, you're bratty — so matt makes sure to put you in your place.

"told you to stop actin' up, didn't i? now look, all fucked dumb on my cock..."

"you cum when i tell you to, got it? y'know what happens with you disobey me..."

"keep talkin' back sweetheart an' i'll give you somethin' to whine about..."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

i am all things biker!matt, y'all. this is mostly inspired by my biker!matt fic on my wattpad, so i thought i'd share it here🤭. feel free to spam my inbox with more biker!matt headcanons! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Wearing C.C.’s Clothes

That’s it. Well, not really. My C.C. is from the 20’s to late 50’s. (Born in 1919 and died in 58 which means he died at 39 years old.) Now, here’s the thing, C.C. just gives off fashionable man vibes to me. Same with Marilyn. Or at least, the man’s wife knew how to dress them both well. Now, I’m pretty sure archeologists are rich, seeing as Lara Croft lived in a manor owned by her dad(who also an archeologist). Not only that but didn’t Billy have a trust fund before Ebenezer stole it all? Point is, we’re gonna pretend C.C. and Marilyn were at least wealthy for this post. Now back to the part where I was talking about the two being fashionable. I like to think they had a huge closet full of suits and whatever else people wore as adults in the 40’s to 50’s. They were dripped out. Sorry. Also, what exactly happened to all of C.C. and Marilyn’s stuff? Did Ebenezer sell it all? If not, and he just put it in his basement or something, Billy stole it all. All of it. He snuck in, humming the mission impossible theme, and either put it in the Rock or put it in a pocket dimension. Now, in the Rock, I like to think he has some magical closet. Like the Barbie closet. The closet is chock full of things his parents used to wear. Every now and then he puts on C.C.’s clothes and stares at himself in the mirror smiling like his dad used to when he particularly misses his dad. Then, Mary found out about this. He took her to the closet and she soon found herself doing the same thing Billy did, except with their mother. Though, sometimes she simply wore the dresses when she thought they were cute. They would even sometimes recreate photos of their parents. None of the romantic ones though. Billy vomitted all over Freddy’s shoes when he jokingly suggested that. I can even see Mary magicking up necklaces and earrings her mother once wore. So imagine, one day, Marvel gets invited (forced) to go to movie night with the leaguers, but Billy doesn’t have clothes for Marvel, except… So Billy pulls up in mid 40’s casual wear, which nowadays looks pretty formal.

“Dude what are you wearing?” Flash asked, one brow raised so far up it reached his hairline.

“Uh… these are the only casual clothes I have.” Marvel replied looking slightly embarrassed.

Wonder Woman stared at him for a couple moments before speaking up, “Are you wearing vintage?”

“I guess.” He said with a little shrug. “These haven’t seen the light of day since like… almost the sixties.”

”Wait, really?” Green Lantern asked, looking Billy up and down. Which admittedly made Billy a little self-conscious.

“Cap, do you not have modern clothes?” Superman asked.

“No…?” Billy said, though it sounded more like a question. He had modern clothes, just none that fit Marvel.

All of them looked to immediately looked to Batman, who shrugged, “I’ll finance it.”

They then proceeded to drag Marvel to the mall and buy a bunch of clothes, said clothes also going in his magical closet.

[webslingingslasher]

Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind

i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.

warnings: a lil smutty

Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile. 

“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.” 

You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.” 

He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet. 

“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece. 

Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store. 

Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once. 

Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.” 

“Hey,” 

“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.” 

“Hey,” louder. 

You bulldozed. 

“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-” 

He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!” 

“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-” 

Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?” 

You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy. 

He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you. 

“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.” 

It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh!” 

A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement. 

Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.” 

You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.” 

The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest. 

—-------------

Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off. 

You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat. 

The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly. 

“Ready?” 

Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident. 

“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest. 

You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”

His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one. 

You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?” 

No hesitation, “seven.” 

“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.” 

Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?” 

—----------------------

This one was a lot more fitting. 

It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties. 

It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before. 

“Petey?” 

Muffled, “yes, baby?” 

You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door. 

“You alright, baby?” 

You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.” 

He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?” 

“Yeah.” 

Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.” 

You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily. 

“I’m like, naked naked.” 

“Perfect.” 

“It’s dark green.” 

A whine, “please let me see!” 

You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter. 

You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks. 

“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.” 

Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes. 

He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.” 

“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.” 

Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.” 

Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 

—-----------------------

A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style. 

The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset. 

It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident. 

You didn’t need any help with this one. 

“This gotta be your favorite, right?” 

Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride. 

“Yeah… that’s the one.” 

You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles. 

“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs. 

You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.” 

Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.” 

“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.” 

Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.” 

The black piece was lust. 

The green piece was passion. 

The red piece was love. 

Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment. 

One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend. 

Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you. 

Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life. 

[proactivetypaperson]

stepbro rafe hcs!

Warnings: stepcest, dub-con, reader’s lowkey a bimbo, light smut, pervy behavior, DARK CONTENT, jealousy.

a/n: this is my first post so please be nice and as always mdni!

stepbrother! rafe who was always a little too touchy with you, holding your hips to move you out of his way, caressing your head when you did something right, placing his hand on your thigh as you sat next to him at family dinner, making you his personal eye candy at parties, making his friends envious, and making their shorts tighten at your cleavage as they watched you lean down and pick something up for Rafe.

You dismissed it as casual affection because you were just relieved that your intimidating big evil stepbrother liked you.

;;

A shiver ran through you as you felt Rafe’s fingers graze your spine as he pulls down the zipper, and you see him lick his lips at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your push-up bra.

You gasp when he unhooks it in one swift motion making it pool at your feet, and you bite your lip as his finger reaches out to brush over your hardened nipple.

stepbro! Rafe always carries drags you back to his room when you've had a little too much to drink, stripping you and changing your clothes so you can wear his, so you know better than to protest as his gaze hungrily travels down your half-naked body, swallowing roughly when your palms reach up to squeeze your boobs as a protection against the cold air and cock twitching when you look up at him through your lashes and whine for him to give you his shirt already.

;;

stepbro! rafe wrapped your lace panties around his hardening cock, getting off to your pictures, in his defense, you did ask him to take a good picture of you and perhaps he took a few extra for himself. You didn't mind because you were wearing the miniskirt he bought you as an act of reconciliation after he beat up that touron for talking to you, so it's not entirely his fault that he took a few in different angles. That's what a nice stepbrother does, right?

;;

stepbro! rafe who takes you shopping on the mainland where he buys you the skimpiest little skirts he can think of, skirts that he knows will undoubtedly hike up when you bend over, as well as some lace lingerie sets that would flash through your see-through shirts.

He usually follows you into the dressing room as you change, observing you with a hungry glare. He means well, of course; after all, who else is going to assist you in undressing?

;;

drunk or coked out stepbro! Rafe who slips into your room at night under the guise of just checking in on his stepsister, and before you know it he’s grinding against you,and being the good and obedient, step sister that you are, you grind back into him knowing that he just needs to relieve some tension. However, you squeeze your thighs together in an effort to stop him when he inserts his hand between them,

“Rafe …. but mom and dad?”

Sighing, he moves in closer and says, "Look, I just need you right now, okay?" and with that, he grabs your hand and presses it against his bulge. “This is what you do to me” he groans. You relent some not wanting to upset him he’s your favorite person after all and you just want to help him, it's what good stepsisters do right? And you let his hand make its way into your shorts, calloused fingers teasing your clit, “fuck so wet for me angel” he mumbles kissing you on the sweet spot right under your ear, and when you hear his belt unbuckle and hand snake his way around your throat you know you're in for a long night.

[eomayas]

never lose me • ljh

pairing: woozi x f!reader, established relationship

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!! slight angst, fluff, miscommunication

synopsis: it’s been awhile since you’ve gotten jihoon alone, and a sundress is all it takes for him to realize how much he misses and is obsessed with you

warnings: pwp, unprotected p in v, oral (f), riding, fingering, reader wears a dress, they say ‘i love you’ a lot, mild angst, fluff, buff woozi, long haired woozi

a/n: i love woozi. unedited of course

jihoon knows he’s in trouble the moment you step out into the living room in a baby pink sundress that clings to your chest and gives you a lift, your hair tossed up in a loose updo, donning gold jewelry, and a smile that makes him physically weak. his chest swells with love and desire, a deep sense of yearning overtaking his being.

he’s been distant lately, he knows. working late nearly every night and leaving early in the morning. sometimes, he doesn’t even make it home and ends up sleeping at the studio or at the dorms, despite having his own place with you. he’s been meaning to make it up to you—he bought you a few things, though he knows the key to your heart isn’t material things—though he hasn’t really found the time (or out in much effort) to do so, other than offering to take you to the farmers market today since you mentioned it awhile ago and he never went with you.

looking at you now, he’s overwhelmed with the information that he’s very much in love with you, and that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “are you ready?” you ask him, a soft smile on your face. jihoon swallows and nods, standing up from the couch and wiping his palms on his jeans. he places a hand on the small of your back and places a gentle kiss on your jaw.

"you look pretty," he says softly, removing his hand from your back to hold onto yours. you blush and thank him, feeling an ego boost that he at least noticed. it’s been hard interacting with him since when you do see him, it’s short and brief. you understand that he’s busy, and understand he needs his time and space to work—you’ve never taken issue with that—but you do miss him, more than anything.

the drive to the farmers market is short, and you do most of the talking, catching him up on things you know he’s missed, whether it be things going on in your life, or in the pop culture word. he’s quiet, but he hangs onto every word you say even if it’s not about you and your life. it makes him realize just how gone he’s been, and he starts to feel guilty and like the worlds worst boyfriend.

“ji, you okay?” you question, tapping his leg. he looks down at your hand and grabs it with his right, squeezing it. he glances over at you and sees the concern on your face and begins to feel worse.

“yeah, yeah im fine,” he says unconvincingly. you know him better than that—probably better than he knows himself—and you know something is there under the surface, but you never push him unless you feel like he needs to be pushed. rather than forcing the truth out of him, you leave it alone.

soon enough, he’s pulling into the designated parking lot for the farmers market, and the two of you are getting out of his car and walking hand in hand through the street. it’s a bright day, and there are many people, families, and dogs milling about. “ji, we should get a dog,” you say when another toy poodle passes by the two of you. he chuckles and shakes his head lightly. “cmon, it would be like prep for when we have an actual kid.” you say casually, a twinkle in your eye.

the breath gets caught in jihoons throat and his cheeks flush. the two of you have talked about having kids before, but not recently. the fact that you’d still consider him to be the father of your children makes him feel warm and hopeful that he isn’t a total screw up of a partner.

“i’ll think about it,” jihoon says, swallowing. your grin at him and grab ahold of jihoons hand to drag him over to a booth. he lets you guide him, his brain still stuck on the comment about kids. he wants kids, especially with you, and now he can’t seem to think of anything else.

and he lets you guide him to whichever booth you want. you lead him to a booth that sells fresh produce, and he stays close by to you while you pick things out. he can’t help but watch you move and feel an ache deep inside of him, a strong sense of yearning for you despite the fact that he has you. “i’m gonna try to bake something this week, what do you want?” you ask jihoon, picking up a carton of strawberries.

turning, you have an expectant look on your face until you see your boyfriend looking extremely… sad. like a little puppy, his eyes wide and his mouth downturned into a small frown. “baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, placing a hand on his arm.

jihoon opens his mouth and closes it before trying again, taking a step closer to you. he slips an arm around your waist to rest on the small of your back, dropping his mouth close to your ear. “i love you,” he murmurs, mouth ghosting over your jaw in a soft kiss.

you smile and tilt your head to look up at him. “i love you too, baby,” you say, placing a kiss on his lips this time. you don’t really mind PDA—jihoon does, though he’s not complaining right now. he wonders if anybody else can hear how hard his heart is beating in his chest, and whether you can feel it, because it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

once you two pull away, you go back to picking our fruit and jihoon goes back to swooning and yearning over you. but he wanders around the booth and grabs some vegetables that he can meal prep with, and finds you when he’s done. you tell him what you’re going to make for the week—blueberry lemon loaf—and then the two of you bound up to the counter to pay. jihoon hands the person behind the counter his card with ease.

afterwards, you pull him to more booths and he follows you closely, letting you wander around but never keeping you out of his line of sight. he can’t keep his mind off of you right now, he's so overwhelmed by you, and he wishes he could get a handle on himself right now. he's so consumed with the fact that you still want to have kids with him, about the fact that your dress is much too tight in the chest and its turning him to mush.

jihoon glances around and finds a spots a florists tent only a few feet away. you're preoccupied with looking at handmade jewelry that he's able to quickly slip away without you noticing. jihoon's eyes quickly scan the bouquets, reaching for a large one full of white, pink, and yellow flowers. he holds them for a second before setting them back where he found them and walking up to the people who run the booth. "hi, do you guys have any bouquets with peonies?" he asks, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.

the woman smiles and stands up, already walking over to another display of flowers. "yes! we have bouquets made up of entirely bouquets–like this," she holds up a band of pink peonies to show jihoon. "or we have a few that contain peonies, but not nearly as many. depends on what you like." she finishes happily, a polite smile on her face. jihoon's eyes dart between both bouquets, a crease forming in between his eyebrows. "is it a special occasion? person?" the florist asks, trying to help jihoon out.

"they're for my girlfriend. she likes pink," he says, reaching for the bouquet of mixed flowers. theres pink peonies, white roses, and a third pink flower he can't identify. "i think i'll just get these." the florist nods and leads jihoon back to the counter to pay. he hands her his card and rocks eagerly back and forth on his heels, feeling a semblance of normalness for the first time today.

taking the flowers, a sense of pride swells in his chest at the mere thought of handing them to you, in seeing the expression on your face when he gives you the bouquet.

when jihoon gets closer to the booth he left you in, his eyes search for you, but he is unable to see you. his eyebrows furrow, but he keeps his panic at bay–you're a grown woman after all, and you definitely could not have gone far since he was hardly gone for more than five minutes. he'll find you.

like a dog with a squeaker toy, his ears perk up at the sound of laughter. but it's not just any laughter, its one that he'd probably be able to pick out even amongst a chorus of people laughing. its the sound of laughter that always makes him want to start laughing; its infectious, and sweet, and its yours. its laughter that comes from your chest, and he can just imagine what you look like: eyes squinty, teeth showing, cheeks round. his stomach churns with butterflies at the mere thought of it.

jihoon follows the sound, gaze landing upon you in a few seconds. but he stops short when he sees why you are laughing. a man stands close to you, a bit too close, marveling at the fact that he was able to elicit such a sound from you. now, jihoon isn't a regularly jealous guy, nor is he possessive. but he sees the way the man looks at you, watches his eyes drop down to your chest for a split second while you're busy talking about something and not quite paying him any attention. the butterflies that once inhabited his stomach vanish, and the churning stems from elsewhere. he swallows and runs a hand through his long, dark hair, and finishes making his way to you.

the man notices jihoon before you do, and he makes his presence known by slipping a hand onto the small of your back. with a start, you almost accuse the man of trying to pull a fast one on you until you turn and see jihoon, immediate relief and relaxation washing over you. "oh! baby, you scared me," you say, sliding closer to him. you notice the flowers in his hand and you break out into a smile. "for me?" you ask.

jihoon smiles sheepishly and nods, but he keeps his eyes trained on the stranger. you notice jihoons attention divert and follow his gaze, lips parting, ready to introduce to two of them but you stop short once you realize you don’t even know the man’s name and that he just started talking to you. “uh,” you start, a shy smile on your face.

“ill leave you two to it,” he says, throwing up an awkward thumbs up and slipping off to wherever he came from. you look at jihoon and get help the laugh that escapes you, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.

“that was so awkward!” you say, hugging the flowers to your chest. jihoon gives you a halfhearted chuckle, the corner of his lip dragging upward before immediately falling into a flat line. he’s not upset, especially not with you. there’s a bunch of emotions swarming through him today, and that man only added fuel to the fire. he feels like he’s on borrowed time with you and can’t get ahold of anything.

a frown takes over your face at your boyfriends mood, your frustration growing. “jihoon, what is wrong?” you ask, voice hushed because of the public setting. he glances around and takes a step closer to you, arm snaking around your waist.

“it’s nothing, i promise,” he says, voice low. jihoon places a consolidation kiss on your cheek, but you don’t believe him. it’s bullshit and both of you know that you know that, but you don’t say anything because you really do just want to enjoy this day with him.

the two of you wander around the farmers market for a few more hours, jihoon hardly leaving your side of letting you out of his sight for too long. he is hyper aware of who talks to you, where their eyes linger and for how long. it’s extremely out of character, this level of possession he’s displaying. it’s not him, but he’s extremely on edge.

you notice it, of course. his hand rarely leaves the small of your back unless you wrap yourself around his arm. he’s not nearly this close and clingy to you, but it doesn’t necessarily bother you—his possessive behavior, though, is where you’re stumped. you’re now 101% sure that he’s been bullshitting you all day. again, you don’t say anything and choose to just embrace him being all over you, especially since it’s been awhile that you’ve been able to get time with him.

after a few hours of walking in platform sandals, your feet start to ache. the two of you have gone to nearly every booth at the market, and have seen the crowd die down. “my feet are killing me,” you say, flexing your toes.

“are you ready to go home?” jihoon asks, rubbing small circles into your lower back.

“yeah, i think so. we basically saw everything, right?” you ask, the two of you already heading back in the direction of the parking lot. jihoon nods, slipping his hand from your back to intertwine your fingers together. you glance over at him and smile, grateful for the time you’ve had with him today despite his strange attitude. “i love you, you know?” you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

jihoon smiles, looking down at that ground. “i love you too,” he says softly, the tips of his ears reddening. the two of you make it back to the car and jihoon opens the trunk to put the tote bag of stuff in the back. you wait for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a kiss when he closes the back. he holds onto your sides tightly, fingers lightly bunching up the loose fabric of your dress. you press your chest against his own, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the fabric of your dress mixed with the friction of his tshirt.

jihoon feels his mind go blank for a second, almost like he’s a virgin again when he feels your nipples through your dress. he hadnt realized how thin the material was, or what you weren’t wearing a bra, and now that changes everything about today, about the feeling of you in his hands, about the stares you received from strangers. it makes him more agitated and pathetically hard, though the latter makes him feel guilty for even thinking about you in that way when he’s barely spent real quality time with you.

pulling back, you place a soft hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. jihoon relaxes against your touch, letting out a small breath that makes you smile. “i’ve missed you,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your hip.

you hum, placing your other hand against his chest. you flatten it over his right pec before gently dragging your nails over his clothed skin. “prove it,” you say, tone sultry. you flick your eyes up to meet his own and he swallows, his erection straining against his pants. if you notice it, you don’t make it known, just smile that angelic smile and slip away from him to get in the car. jihoon stands there, static flowing through his brain.

there isn’t a coherent thought in his mind other than getting you home as quickly as possible. he quickly hops in the driver seat and starts the car, flying out of the parking lot far too quickly. but he doesn’t really have time to stop and think, his dick agonizingly hard in his pants and you achingly beautiful right next to him.

“baby, it’s a red,” you say, looking over at jihoon with mild concern when he flies up to a red light, hardly feeling like he’s pressing on the brakes. jihoon leans back in his seat once the car is idle, and lets out a chuckle at his own ridiculousness. he won’t be able to fuck you like he wants if he dangerously speeds home, but he’s eager, buzzing in his seat.

“god, i love you,” he mumbles for the millionth time today, running a hand through his hair and pressing on the lightly on the gas when the light changes.

you smile and place a hand low on his leg. jihoon can’t help when he jerks at your touch, leg shifting open wider. it’s embarrassing, pathetic, and whorish, and his face burns in mortification. you bite back a giggle, not wanting to add to his embarrassment.

the short car ride home is tense. again, you talk and he listens—or tries to; unable to fully concentrate with your hand on his leg. you can tell that he’s really trying though, and you find it sweet since the tent in his pants hasn’t faltered once. you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t had you hot and bothered all day. he’s a man of simple fashion: black tshirt and jeans, but his bulging muscles will forever make you drool.

pulling up to the house is like beating the level in a video game before the final boss battle. except in this case, the boss level is getting you naked in the next few minutes. jihoon doesn’t even bother grabbing the stuff out of the trunk, just opens your door for you and ushers you up to the front door. he fumbles with the house key for a moment, lowly mumbling out a few curses before finally shoving it into the lock and opening the door.

jihoons on you in an instant, backing you into the closed front door and placing his lips on yours. you toss your purse onto the entry table and thread your fingers through his long hair. his hair has grown out a lot lately, results of him being so busy with work and forgetting about everything else. you like it, a lot, and rue the day he decides to chop it all off.

he pulls back from your mouth to kiss down your neck, groaning into your skin. jihoon holds onto your sides, hands kneading at the flesh. his mouth is hot against your skin, lips searing like he’s claiming you, branding you.. its a sensation you’ve been deprived of lately, one you’ve missed. jihoon kisses down your chest to the tops of your exposed breasts, resisting the extremely strong urge to rip you out of the fabric. “fuck,” he curses, moving back up to your mouth. he’s desperate for you he can hardly contain himself or get his thoughts straight.

jihoon pulls you from against the door and walks you backwards down the hall. you let him, hands gripping onto his biceps for support. you pull apart when he presses you back against a surface, and you find yourself in the kitchen pressed against the island. jihoons lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you lovingly run a hand through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face so you can really see him. he closes his eyes for a brief second and grips onto the counter, dropping his forehead against yours. "you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, breath warm against your face. "this dress. you." jihoon lifts his head to look at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

your heart hammers against your ribcage, like its ready to beat out of your chest and flop onto the kitchen floors. his gaze is intense and makes heat pool at the base of your abdomen, thighs pressing together. you reach behind you to unzip your garment, but he stops you, gently grabbing onto your forearm.

"leave it on."

jihoon is on his knees in an instant, flipping up the skirt of your gown and disappearing under the material. you want to see him, nearly ready to complain until you feel his mouth on your core. he breathes you in, brain clouding at your scent and wetness. your panties are damp and stick to your folds in a way that makes him spin. he wastes no more time and pulls down your underwear, yanking them off your ankles before stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. his mouth is on you again, this time making you let out a soft sigh and bunch up your dress atop his shoulders. he grabs one of your calves and props it against his broad shoulders, spreading your open wider and giving him more room to work.

he's an expert with his tongue, and you let him know that by all of the sounds you make. you didn't realize how long its been until you notice how loud you're being, how quickly your legs begin to shake when he suckles on your clit. "fuck, jihoon!" you moan, knees growing weaker by the second. he keeps a firm grip on your thighs, supporting most of your weight. his tongue is everywhere you need him most, licking up your arousal like its the last thing he'll ever do.

jihoon groans against you, making you whimper above him and press your thighs together. his lips find themselves around your sensitive nub, and he lets go of the leg that is propped up against his shoulder to stick to fingers inside of you. you clench around him in a way that makes him feel like he could cum in his pants in the next few seconds. you're warm and tight.

"h-hoonie, i-i-" you cut yourself off with a pathetic whine, tears gathering in your eyes as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his tongue swirling around your clit.

he's prepared for your release, but he's not prepared for the way your arousal squirts out onto his face. he freezes, watching your pussy flutter around his still fingers, your arousal flowing out of you like rain. "jihoon!" you yelp as you come, body burning and legs shaking. he attempts to retracts his fingers from inside you, but you clench around him and squeeze him back in.

its pathetic the way he whimpers and jerks his hips forward, a dark patch forming on his jeans. he manages to pull his fingers back, and stands up from the floor, hand moving to your hip to support you on your weak legs. the sight before him is one of his favorites: your chest heaving, eyes closed and mouth parted. its a state of bliss that he put you in, and he'll never get tired of it.

upon feeling him stand up, you attempt to sit up against the counter and open your eyes. when you see his shiny face, your eyes widen and your face burns with embarrassment. " oh my g-" he cuts you off with a kiss, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan and grip onto his shoulders tightly, body buzzing.

jihoon is the first to pull away, spinning you around by the hips and pressing you against the counter. he grabs the hem of his shirt and wipes his face before pulling it off and and tossing it on the floor. next are his pants, though he doesnt even bother stepping out of them and just lets them pool around his ankles. he's never been this eager and hungry for sex, its almost animalistic the way he feels inside.

grabbing your leg, jihoon props your knee up on the counter and checks that you're comfortable. "yes, just fuck me," you sigh, folding your arms under your head and resting your cheek against them. jihoon pushes up your dress and lines himself up, pushing the head in and letting out a string of curses at your grip on him. you never fully got used to the size of him, but now that’s it’s been a minute the stretch is much more intense than before. "baby." you whine, biting your bottom lip, cunt fluttering around him. jihoon grips onto the counter with one hand and your hip with the other, bottoming out and staying still for a moment to really feel you.

"i l-love you," he says, breathing labored. he leans down against you and presses a soft, loving, kiss to the back of your neck. "i love you so fucking much."

he pulls back and snaps his hips back into your ass, a loud gasp getting pushes from you lungs, followed by a cry of his name. he's relentless with his strokes, unable to control himself. you don't mind the harshness, especially after how long you've gone without having sex. "j-jihoon!" you cry, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight.

"i m-missed you," he grunts, pushing up your dress so he can see your ass, eyes trained on where you two connect. "missed this pussy, fuck!" he groans, knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter. a white rim coats the base of his dick, both of your arousals mixing together to make it easier for him to glide into you.

“it’s yours,” you mewl, pressing your hips back into him and deepening the arch in your back. jihoon grunts in agreement, moving the hand that is on your hip up to your chest. he gropes your chest, tweaking your nipple through the material of your dress.

he pounds into your hard enough to knock the strap of your dress off your shoulder. you want it off, but he’s adamant that you leave it on. “you feel so good!” tears slip out of your eyes due to the pleasure you’re feeling. jihoon pulls the top of your dress down and lets your breasts spill free, the other strap sliding down your arm.

jihoons strokes begin to lose rhythm and his breathing becomes exceptionally labored. you know he’s close—you are too, unbelievably close—and you want to cum with him. reaching back, you call out his name and wiggle your fingers.. jihoon grabs onto your hand without a second thought, squeezing tightly as he continues to give you a few more powerful thrusts. “baby, i’m c-close,” you breathe, the knot tightening in your core.

“m-me too. wan’ c-come with y-you,” he grunts, thrusts becoming shallower by the second. you whimper and clench around him, crying out his name when you start to spasm around him, legs shaking.

jihoon grunts and holds your hip tightly to keep you in place, groaning out your name as he releases his load into you. he folds himself onto your back, unable to hold himself up any longer while he releases ropes of his cum into you. you appreciate the weight of him on you, keeps you from floating up and away from the present.

“fuck,” he breathes, pushing himself up and off of you and pulling out of you warmth with a whimper that makes you involuntarily clench around him. “baby.” jihoon pulls out of you and grabs at your waist, gently spinning you around and cradling you in his arms. you give him a blissed out smile, eyes low and tired, skin shiny from a thin layer of sweat.

“hi.”

“hey,” you smile at each other like two lovesick fools, and you push yourself up to his lips to give him a soft and sensual kiss. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles against your lips, hands grabbing the zipper of your dress and pulling it down, the cool air making goosebumps arise on your skin.

“you’re forgiven,” you say in a rush, letting the dress fall to the floor. you’ll get to the root of the apology later, but right now you still need him.

it’s desperate the way jihoon gets on the floor and pulls you down on top of him, guiding you over his dick. you plant your feet on either side of his hips and lower yourself onto his shaft, mouth dropping open at the sensation of being split open for the second time. “ah, jihoon, fuck!” you cry, planting a hand on his chest for stability. you won’t last long riding him—both of you know that—but you intend to make it count for as long as you can before your legs give out.

jihoon is in a trance watching you bounce on top of him, fully convinced that if he were to die right now this would be the way he’d love to go out: you on top of him in all your glory, fucking him—using him, like he’s your little toy. and he’s happy to be exactly that.

the squelching your cunt makes every time you drop down onto him pushes him closer to the edge. he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he wants to look at you, wants to watch you as you take everything he’s got, milk him for all he’s worth until there’s nothing left. “i-i missed this,” you moan, switching from bouncing up and down to rotating your hips, dropping down onto your knees. “missed you.”

“i’m all yours,” he breathes, whining when you lean back and hold onto his thighs, raising your hips and swirling on his lap. jihoon reaches forward and presses his thumb to your clit and rubs quick circles on the sensitive nub to get you to your release. “cmon, baby. i k-know you’re close.” he rasps, body flushed with heat.

with a few more rolls of your hips and jihoon rubbing on your clit, you’re coming for the third time. jihoon catches you when you collapse against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up, hard member still inside of you. he cradles you in his arms as he ruts his hips upwards, getting himself to his own release shortly after, your warm heat sucking him in completely.

for a few minutes, you two stay like that on the floor. he holds you against his chest, softly dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. he goes soft inside of you, but deep down he feels like he could go for a third round if he really puts himself to the test, but with the way you’re breathing he knows that you two are done for the night.

sitting in his arms, you clutch him like he’s going to slip from your grasp at any second. you try to push thoughts about your reality away, but the longer he holds onto you the more you realize this probably won’t last beyond tonight. you’re partly okay with it, because he comes home to you. but you miss him. “jihoon,” you murmur.

“hmm?”

“can we talk?”

“always. what’s up?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you pull your chin from his shoulder to look at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “jihoon, i know you were… bothered… earlier today. talk to me, please,” you say, eyebrows furrowing. he sighs and hugs you back into his chest, feeling like he’s unable to look at you without feeling like crying.

“i know ive been a bad boyfriend. and i felt like shit today because i haven’t spent time with you in what feels like forever, and i just miss you so much, you know? and i love you so much, i don’t want to lose you—ever. and im just so, so sorry,” he rambles, clutching you tightly. your heart breaks for him and yourself. you’d never leave him, not over his job especially. you know he loves you, he shows it even where there is distance. but you appreciate him saying it out loud.

you pull back against his right hold on you, but he relents. “jihoon, im never going to leave you, okay? we just need to talk—you need to tell me when you feel any kind of way, okay? i love you, and you’re not going to lose me. i’m in this for the long haul,” you say, giving him a smile that makes the corner of his lip go up. for good measure, you give him a quick peck and run your hands through his hair. “i do wish you were around more, but i get it. i’ll always be here.”

he drops his head bashfully and sucks in a breath. “okay. i’m sorry.”

“you’re forgiven,” you say, kissing him once more. “but we need to get off this floor, hoon. i’m getting old.” you say, untangling yourself from him. you rise and let out a sigh at the loss of contact. your legs wobble and you catch yourself against the counter, glaring at jihoon when he chuckles. “it’s not funny.”

“it’s cute,” he says, standing up and picking up your guys’ clothes. he holds your dress in his hands and gives it a long look before lightly shaking his head.

“i’ll wear it more if it gets me fucked like this again.”

[aventurineswife]

Reader who normally doesn’t wear makeup (they just don’t like feeling substances on their skin, which is unfortunately most products) but they come across a brand that they can actually tolerate and they take full advantage of it, looking nice in addition to dressing up a little for a casual outing on the Luofu with their beau Dan Heng—

—before dragging him away to a secluded corner for a heavy makeout session with no explanation for it whatsoever, kissing him silly and all over the face before deciding it’s enough and they leave to resume their activities.

And when Dan Heng steps out, he gets funny looks, snickering and winks from random passersby, even a few catcalls. Even one of the Cloud Knights in the area gives him a thumbs-up.

It’s not until he passes by a mirror or a window (something with a reflective surface) that he finally sees all the lipstick marks Reader left all over his face.

It’s fine if you don’t wanna write this, I just felt like sharing this silly idea. I think Dan Heng would have a cute reaction. 🤭

Mine to Claim

Summary: You decide to dress up a bit for a casual outing on the Xianzhou Luofu with Dan Heng, taking full advantage of a new makeup brand you can tolerate. Midway through your date, you drag him into a secluded corner for a spontaneous, passion-filled makeout session, leaving him dazed and covered in lipstick marks. Unbeknownst to him, you also leave a cheeky "MINE" written on his collarbone in lipstick. The aftermath? A flustered Dan Heng getting attention from amused passersby and realizing your handiwork only after catching his reflection.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship, Lighthearted Comedy, Playful Reader, Flustered Dan Heng, Lipstick Marks, Possessive Reader.

A/N: 🤭💕🫣I LOVE LIPSTICK KISSES!! (I hate lipstick in general because it's such a weird sensation on me just like how you described it🧍‍♀️)

The bustling streets of the Xianzhou Luofu were alive with activity, the air rich with the scent of spices and blooming flowers. You adjusted your outfit—a casual but elevated look you'd put together for your rare outing with Dan Heng. Normally, you wouldn’t bother with makeup, but the new brand you’d discovered had been a game-changer. The light, breathable formulas didn’t bother your skin, so you’d gone all out. A subtle shimmer on your eyelids, a touch of blush, and the pièce de résistance—a bold, rich lipstick shade that you’d been dying to try.

Dan Heng, ever reserved, didn’t comment much when you met up with him, but the subtle way his sharp gaze lingered a fraction longer than usual was all the validation you needed. The two of you strolled through the Luofu, sampling street food and admiring the intricate architecture. Despite the casual nature of your outing, Dan Heng looked as composed as ever, his dark attire and serene expression drawing a few admiring glances from passersby.

But you had a plan.

Spotting a secluded corner down an alley, you tugged at his sleeve. “Come with me for a second.”

Dan Heng raised a brow but followed without question. The moment you were out of view, you turned to him with a mischievous grin.

“What’s this about?” he asked, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.

“Shh,” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders. Without warning, you pulled him down into a searing kiss. His body tensed for a brief moment before he melted into it, his hands finding your waist. You kissed him deeply, letting the world around you fade away.

But you weren’t done. You pressed soft kisses across his cheeks, his jawline, and his nose, leaving a trail of lipstick marks in your wake. Dan Heng, caught off guard by the sudden affection, could only stand there, dazed and bewildered, as you reached into your bag and grabbed your lipstick. Before he could react, you tilted the collar of his shirt slightly and wrote, in bold letters, “MINE” on his collarbone.

“Alright,” you said cheerfully, capping the lipstick and stepping back to admire your handiwork. “Let’s go.”

Dan Heng blinked, his brain still catching up. “…Go? That’s it?”

“That’s it.” You smiled innocently and took his hand, leading him back into the streets.

He followed, bemused but compliant. It wasn’t until he noticed the odd reactions—a Cloud Knight giving him a thumbs-up, a group of merchants chuckling as he passed, and one particularly brazen individual catcalling him—that he began to suspect something was amiss.

Finally, a reflective shop window revealed the truth. His normally pristine face was covered in lipstick marks, each one vivid and impossible to miss. His collarbone, barely visible above his shirt, bore the word “MINE” in bold, unmistakable letters.

Dan Heng froze, his cheeks burning with a rare flush of color. He turned to you, still holding his hand, as you tried and failed to suppress your laughter.

“You…” His voice was calm, but his narrowed eyes betrayed his exasperation.

“You’re welcome,” you teased, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek—this time leaving no mark.

He sighed, shaking his head, but the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” you replied smugly, dragging him forward before he could protest.

As mortifying as the situation was, Dan Heng couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest, even as he resigned himself to being the center of attention for the rest of the day.

[cherryfyre]

5 Times Sarah Cameron Used You to Change Rafe's Mind

The Charity Auction

Rafe lounged on the couch, lazily flipping through the flat screen's channels. He wasn't in the mood for Sarah's antics, but the sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floors made him glance up.

"Don't forget, the charity auction is tomorrow," Sarah said, casually tying her hair back as she rifled through a drawer.

"Not going"

"You're unbelievable," Sarah shot back, slamming the drawer shut. "Dad donated half the prizes, and people are expecting us. Do you really want to deal with him if we don't show?"

Rafe scoffed "Since when do you care about what Dad thinks?"

"I don't. But the auction's important to people. Like... y'know who."

Rafe didn't need her to clarify. He could picture you now—probably making centrepieces out of seashells or whatever it was kooks like you cared about. He rolled his eyes, "Still not going."

Sarah smirked. "Right. Because you hate being in a room where people are actually impressed by you for once." She snapped, turning on her heel and starts to leave.

He threw the remote onto the couch with a groan "Fine. but if it's boring then I'm out."

The next evening. Rafe walked into the auction wearing a blazer that screamed "I don't care," through his hair that was carefully tousled. His eyes hovered over the luxurious room, until they had found you.

You were at the front of the room, adjusting a floral arrangement on a table, your dress soft and flowing, catching the light with every move. When you turend and saw him, your focused face turned into a surprised smile.

"Rafe? I didn't think I would see you here."

"Yeah, well...." He shrugged, slipping hsi hands into his pockets, "Sarah dragged me."

Your smiled softened, your voice quieter now. "Well, I'm glad you came. It's nice having someone I know here."

Rafe felt his chest tighten unexpectedly, the kind of feeling he'd never admit. "You seem busy." He said, motioning to the bustling room.

"I am, but..." You stepped closer, the warmth of your perfume wrapping around him "It's good busy. It's for a good cause."

He nodded, unable to look away from your glowing expression. "Yeah, looks good."

2. The Bonfire

“Don’t be lame, Rafe,” Sarah called from the doorway, jingling her car keys.

“Not going.” He didn’t even look up from his phone.

“Right,” Sarah said, leaning against the doorframe. “Because sitting alone here and staring at your phone all night is such a better time.”

“It is when I don’t have to deal with John B and his idiot friends.”

Sarah shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m just saying it’s not a bad crowd. You know, people who don’t get on your nerves.” She paused, giving him a pointed look. “Like her.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

“She’s been talking about it all week. She even made s’mores kits,” Sarah added with a sly grin. “But whatever. Have fun being miserable.”

He sighed, setting his phone down with exaggerated annoyance. “I’m only going because I’m bored. Don’t expect me to stay long.”

The fire crackled against the dark sky, and Rafe stayed on the outskirts, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. He scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on you. You were crouched by the fire, your laughter mingling with the sparks as you tried to keep a marshmallow from catching fire.

When you caught him watching, you smiled and waved. “Come sit!”

“I’m good here,” he called back, though his feet were already moving toward you.

“Afraid of s’mores?” you teased, holding out a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

He smirked, taking it from you. “You’re lucky this one’s decent.

“Lucky?” you laughed. “I’m an expert.”

He shook his head but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. The firelight danced in your eyes, and for the first time that night, he didn’t mind being there.

3. The Surf Competition

Rafe leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the porch railing as Sarah walked past with a beach bag slung over her shoulder.

“You’re not going to the surf competition?” she asked, not breaking stride.

“Since when do I go to those things?” he shot back, his sunglasses hiding his glare.

“Since never,” Sarah replied. “But it’s kind of a big deal. The whole island’s going. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”

“Pass.”

Sarah stopped, looking over her shoulder. “You know, she’s competing.”

Rafe’s hand paused mid-reach for his drink. “And?”

“And nothing,” Sarah said, turning away. “But she’s been practicing for weeks, and she’s actually good. But hey, stay here. I’m sure your chair needs you.”

Rafe grumbled under his breath, grabbing his keys. “Whatever.”

The beach was packed, the crowd buzzing with excitement. Rafe kept to the back, his arms crossed as he scanned the waves. When he spotted you paddling out, your determination written in every stroke, he couldn’t look away.

You caught a wave, carving effortlessly down its face, your smile radiant as you glided toward the shore. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Rafe barely noticed. He was too busy watching you, the way you seemed to light up in the sunlight.

Afterward, you spotted him leaning against a railing. “Rafe! You came?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral. “Didn’t have anything else going on.”

Your smile widened. “Well, thanks. It means a lot.”

He didn’t say anything, but the warmth in your voice stayed with him long after the competition ended.

4. The Family Dinner

“You’re coming to dinner,” Sarah said as she walked into the living room.

Rafe didn’t even glance up. “No, I’m not.”

“It’s just dinner, Rafe. Dad’s grilling, and—”

“And what? It’s going to be a train wreck like usual?”

Sarah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Stay here. I just thought you’d want to keep her company while the rest of us deal with Dad’s speeches.”

Rafe looked up, his brow furrowing. “She’s going?”

“She’s coming with her parents. You know how Dad is—he invited everyone with a trust fund.”

Rafe muttered something under his breath before standing. “Guess I’ll go. Someone has to keep you in check.”

At the dinner, Rafe kept his distance at first, leaning against a tree with a drink in hand. But when he saw you standing by yourself near the fire pit, your dress catching the glow of the flames, he found himself walking over.

“Didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” he said, his voice casual.

You turned, your face lighting up. “Rafe! I didn’t see you earlier.”

“Yeah, well… figured I’d make an appearance.”

You smiled softly, and for the rest of the night, Rafe found himself by your side, your laughter making the night more bearable than he’d ever admit.

5. The Lake Day

“Let’s go,” Sarah said, throwing a towel at Rafe’s head.

He caught it with a scowl. “Go where?”

“The lake. Everyone’s going.”

“Pass.”

“Typical.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “She’s coming too, but I guess that’s not enough of a reason for you to leave your cave.”

Rafe frowned, trying to mask his interest. “She’s going?”

Sarah didn’t answer, just smirked as she walked out the door.

By the lake, Rafe spotted you sitting on the dock, your feet dangling in the water. The sunlight danced across the waves, catching in your hair and making you look almost otherworldly.

He walked over, sitting down next to you without a word.

“Hey,” you said, smiling at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Sarah dragged me,” he lied, glancing out at the water.

You bumped his shoulder lightly. “Well, I’m glad you came.”

Rafe felt the tension in his chest ease, the warmth of your presence making the lake day more tolerable than he’d thought possible.