#maybe i will finish this later. but for now take this

[heartz-for-de]

“Current boyfriend” prank on MHA boys.

—“I’m your what?”

—multiple X fem! Reader

—includes: Izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, katsuki bakugo, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari, shinso Hitoshi.

—warnings: mentions of making out, swearing, teenage boy humor, sorry if I forget anything else

!!NOT PROOFREAD!! It’s three am sorry I cannot bring myself to do that I’ll do to later maybe probably not

—IZUKU—

You had been scrolling through TikTok for what seemed to be forever, until a certain video caught your eye. It was a trend done by a couple consisting of the girlfriend introducing her partner as her “current boyfriend”. You couldn’t help but laugh at the boys reaction to the label.

While sitting and giggling at your phone you looked at Izuku who was present in your dorm. He’d been at your desk for awhile now, going over some quirk notes he’d needed to fix. You then got a pleasant idea.

“Hey, Izu?” You called out to him from your bed.

He looked up from his paper, his ears already tinted pink.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He now had his full body turned to you.

“I need to film a TikTok for this brand I’m reviewing, do you want to be in it with me?” You hated lying to him, but it you knew the joke was going to have a rewarding outcome.

He smiled softly, “of course, baby. Let me finish this up real fast, I’m almost done.” He muttered out quickly.

You used the extra time to set up your phone and grab a random item from your drawers to “review”. You couldn’t hide the smile that was so blatantly apparent on your face.

Soon enough Izuku got up from his spot and made his way to your setup. He stood kind of behind and to the side, waiting for your instruction.

You then started the video.

“Hey Guys! Today I’m going to be reviewing this new mascara—Annnndd as a special guest I’m here with my current boyfriend,” you gestured your hands to him with a stifled laugh. “Izuku, say hi.” You turned your head slightly to look at him, only to be met with a confused and concerned look. You nearly broke on the spot at his expression.

“Current?” Was all he responded with.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to hide your coughing fit of laughter. He then let a smile spread on his face.

“Uh—hey guys! I’m midoriya, her forever boyfriend! I don’t know why she said current, don’t listen to her.” Izuku grabbed you and covered your mouth with his hand—it was in moments like these where you were reminded how strong he truly was. You could hear the laughter spilling from his own mouth as he locked you in his arms and fumbled to grab your phone.

—SHOTO—

It wasn’t really your intention to do the trend, but when shoto had come up to you and asked if you wanted to film a soba review for your TikTok account? The idea popped into your head like a lightbulb.

There was a new place in town that shoto had been nonstop hinting at wanting to try, so one day after training the two of you stopped by and ordered some soba. He remembered your desert review you had done with him several weeks prior and realized you could do the same thing here.

You agreed cheerfully at the recommendation and whipped out your phone in a heartbeat. It didn’t take long to open up TikTok and get your video set up.

“Hey guys! I’m back with my current boyfriend, but this time we are reviewing soba from—“ you felt a poke in your side.

You snapped your head to the man beside you.

“You said it wrong.” He deadpanned at you.

“Huh? Sho, what are you talking about—“ you were on the brink of busting out laughing at his serious face but you held it together.

“You said ‘current’, I don’t think that’s the appropriate term for what I am to you.” His eyes squinted as he explained where you had went wrong.

“Oh no, I just mean like you’re my current boyfriend. Yknow I’m with you..currently.” You tried to explain something that sounded somewhat believable.

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure if I like that.” His eyebrows were now furrowed as he looked down at the table in thought. “I’d rather just be your boyfriend, I don’t like what the word current infers to our relationship.”

You nearly combusted from his honest and sweet response. “Awww, sho I’m sorry. You aren’t my current boyfriend.” You apologized as you looked back at the camera and smiled, realizing it’d still filming.

“It’s okay—I just wouldn’t want people to think we are temporary. You are going to be my girlfriend forever,” his voice cut off quickly. “Wait no, that is until I marry you.” He finished with a calm look resurfacing on his face.

You looked at the boy next to you with watery eyes. You couldn’t help the squeal that left your mouth as you hugged him tightly from the side, the boy shooting you a shocked look.

—KATSUKI—

It was entirely Mina’s idea. You were in the common room filming an outfit of the day with the pink haired girl, when all of the sudden Katsuki had strolled into the vicinity. Mina pointed with an excited look, to which you questioned what she was acting so antsy about. She then reminded you of the trend you had seen earlier, stating how funny it would be to do it to bakugo. You thought for a second, but ultimately decided to go through with the risky idea. You called him over from the couches and pulled him into the frame where you and Mina had just been.

“The fuck is this.” He looked at you off camera.

“It’s an outfit check, Kats. Here let me help you.” You latched onto his arm and pulled yourself into frame.

“Kay guys, this is my current boyfriend and he’s gonna tell you what he’s—“ before you could finish you felt bakugo strip himself from your arms and snatch the phone from the counter. Mina immediately was sucked into a fit of cackles.

“Katsuki!” You tried to grab your phone from his grasp but he gave you no leverage, only scowling and side eyeing you.

“Current boyfriend my fucking ass. Like hell there’ll be another extra after me.” He grumbled out to you. Mina was still dying from laughter, the more he spoke the less oxygen she seemed to intake.

“That’s not what I meant, I just meant I’m with you currently.” You reasoned with the angry boy.

“Yeah I think the fuck not, you’re mine always. Not currently.” He huffed.

“I know, but I’m dating you right now aren’t I? That’s current.” You replied with a giggle while trying to grab your phone back.

“I’m about to blast your phone into the damn ground, stop saying that shit.” He held the phone just out of reach with a snarl of his teeth.

“Okay, okay! You aren’t my current boyfriend, you’re gonna be my man forever!” You let out the words quickly, all while still trying to apprehend your phone from his heated hands.

“Damn right I am. Now re-do that dumbass video and say that shit to the camera.” He said, finally giving the phone back.

—EIJIROU—

Close to the beginning of your relationship, Kirishima had came up with the brilliant idea to make a joint couples account. It had grown popular over the years you had been together—the videos you two posted consisting of cute trends and gym trips. You were at the gym, filming a small video like usual, when you saw a comment on a previous post that had caught some traction.

“Herolvvr55: omg! Yall are def gonna be my fav pro hero couple when yall become official heros! Doing the current bf trend on him would be sooooo funny:))”

you stared at the comment, holy shit she was so right. Your sweet, unknowing boyfriend was soon to be a victim of her plans.

As you started scheming how you’d say it, you felt two large hands come up around your waist.

“Babeeuhhhh, are you almost ready to start our sets? It’s leg day today, so you don’t have anything to stall for.” Kirishima laid his head in the crook of your shoulder, speaking in a sing songy voice.

“Yeah! We gotta film some clips for TikTok, so let me set it up.” You told him with a smug smile. He nodded with understanding and retracted his hands so you could get everything in order. You set up the camera and pressed record as he started putting some weight on the bar.

“Hey guys! We are at the gym today. I think after we are gonna go do some sparring, but I’m not sure.” You tried to start the video normally, not wanting your boyfriend to grow suspicious of you so early on.

“Baby, cmere. I wanna show them our matching workout fits.” You dragged Kiri to where the phone was propped up, flexing slightly once you were both in frame.

“You look great in red, babe. You should wear it more often.” He giggled slightly as he matched your pose, flexing one of his arms as the other fell onto your waist.

“I should! Guys if you didn’t know, my current boyfriend’s pro hero name is red rio—“ you felt his hand drop from your waist as he took a step back. You broke your stare from the camera to see you 6’1 boyfriend with his head cocked back and a nasty look on his face.

“I am not your current boyfriend, ma’am.” He retaliated rather quickly. “Better change whatever the heck you just said, I’m not afraid to change today’s workout to upper body.” He crossed his arms around his chest.

“What? Eji, it was a joke! Please don’t, I really don’t want to do arms.” You pouted as he kept his frame turned from you.

“Then take it back.” He ordered. “Please.”

You huffed softly. “Guys, prank failed, my boyfriend hates me and won’t let me have any fun ever.” You fake sobbed.

“Wrong and even wronger.” He got close to the camera, leaving only his face visible in the frame. “Guys I’m not her current boyfriend, I’m her husband—AND I do not hate her, I love her so much that even when she does these cruel jokes, I still buy her whatever snacks she wants.”

You laughed while trying to pull him back from the cameras view.

“We are not married you big baby! Cmon we need to get started on the workout.” You yanked at his arm.

As you were walking towards the squat rack, Kirishima turned to the camera one last time.

“We aren’t married yet.” He whispered so that you couldn’t hear over the Loud ambiance of the gym.

“EJIROU! if you don’t get your ass over here and come spot me I will never let you kiss me again.” You shouted at the red haired boy.

He snapped his head you, jogging over to the rack as well. “yes ma’am!” He couldn’t help the laughter that came with his words as the two of you went about your workout.

—DENKI—

You had planned it hours before, texting denki asking if he’d want to hang out later that day. He texted back almost immediately, telling you to come to his dorm whenever you were ready. With the go ahead, you began your journey to the cluttered room. You barely even got one knock in before he swung open the door with a weird smirk plastered on his face.

“Hey gorgeous, never seen you around here before.” He reached for your hand and grabbed it swiftly, placing a soft kiss on your fingers.

“Hi, I’m looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?” You asked the yellow haired boy.

“Uhhh, dunno. What’s he look like?” He continued the joke.

“Short, messy hair, probably has some drool running down his chin. You’d know if you saw him, trust me.” His expression immediately dropped as he pulled himself off the doorframe.

“Short?—DROOL? babe I don’t drool, and I’m like almost six foot. Why do you hate me so much?” He mocked offense at the obviously false statements.

“You’re such a dork, I don’t hate you.” You sighed “Are you gonna let me in, or are we gonna sit here and talk about your drooling problems?” You rolled your eyes at him with a smile inching its way onto your lips.

He moved to the side and gestured dramatically for your entrance.

You scoffed at his overly emphasized actions. You then turned back towards him once fully inside the room.

“I’m gonna film a TikTok, mkay?” You told him as you pulled out your phone.

“Huh? What kind? Are you gonna dance—oh that would be so hot.” He rambled as he shut his door, plopping himself onto his messy bed.

“No, you perv, I’m not gonna dance. I’m gonna talk about….” You instantly realized you had no good excuse for making one “…girl stuff.” you said with an almost unsure undertone.

Of course, denki didn’t catch on to that, though.

“Okie dokie, tell me whenever you’re done. There’s this new movie I wanna look at and I’ve heard it’s fire.” He crossed one leg over the other as you grabbed your phone out of your pocket, opening TikTok with a weird smile.

“What’s up guys, sorry for the scenery change! I’m in my current boyfriend’s dorm, so it’s a little messy. But anyways I’m j—“ you were snatched from your place you stood, your phone getting dropped onto the floor almost immediately.

You felt his hands reaching to tickle your sides as you tried to fight him off.

“DENKI—Oh my gosh! Cut it out—“ you fought tirelessly as the blankets tussled underneath your two bodies.

“Nope, say mercy.” He stated matter of factly. You snarked at the boy, unwilling to let your pride get damaged like that.

That was until he grabbed a specifically ticklish part and you began thrashing uncontrollably.

“MERCY—HOLYSHITMERCY!” you cackled.

He sat up in his bed, an innocent expression appearing onto his face.

“Great! Now apologize for calling me your current boyfriend to your TikTok. They are gonna think I’m some cuck loser—“ you smacked his shoulder from where you still laid.

“Denki nobody is gonna think that you freak. It was just a prank.” You let out small huffs of air, still out of breath.

“Ohhhh. Well, prank or not. I’m not current nothin’. You’re stuck with me forever, sorry not sorry pretty girl.” He flopped into you, his body weight crushing you beneath him.

“Ow! You’re too heavy for this!” You pushed at his shoulders while trying to get him off.

“We could so make out right now.” He said as he propped himself onto his elbows while still ontop of you.

“Denki, if you do not get the hell off of me I will kick you straight in the dick.” you ordered harshly.

“Okay, that’s unneeded and unnecessarily aggressive.” He whined.

—SHINSO—

It was a lazy day, as shinso liked to call it. Which, in technical terms, was everyday. But this one was specifically lazy since all you two had been doing was laying in his bed and cuddling. You were playing with his hair for what seemed like an eternity, his soft grunts whenever you’d scratch his scalp egging you on.

Your leg was thrown over his own, his hand resting on your thigh. His other hand was rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you two talked about anything and everything on and off for hours.

Out of the blue you had gotten a sudden urge to start something, but you were unsure of what to say. You looked up at him, his eyes planted on the ceiling as he continued to softly caress you. He truly was a great boyfriend, you thought. Oh shit—boyfriend. You had seen a video on your for you page earlier that day of a girl referring to her partner as her “current boyfriend” and the man had a rather funny reaction. You wondered for a second about how Hitoshi would respond, giggling softly to yourself at the thought.

He broke his gaze from the ceiling and brought it back to you.

“What’s so funny?” He questioned in a sleepy voice.

“Hmm? Nothin’, jus’ thinking about…how cute you are.” You chose to say something different than your actual thoughts, still deciding on whether or not you wanted to go through with the joke.

“…you are such a cornball.” He laughed softly with his deep and velvety voice.

You jokingly pushed on his chest in response. You came to the conclusion that you’d do the prank, but just wouldn’t record it. Instead you’d keep it as a funny memory in your brain between the two of you.

“So I was talking to my friend earlier, and she didn’t know who you were— can you believe that?” You started off a small conversation.

“Mmmm, is that so?” He turned his head back to the ceiling as he let his hand begin to massage your thigh.

“Yeah, and I had to explain to her. I was like, well he’s my current boyfriend—“ you felt his grub tighten ever so slightly.

“No.” Was all he said.

“Huh, what do you mean no?” You questioned, even though you were very aware of why he’d said that.

“I mean no.” He half opened one of his eyes and peered down at you. “You didn’t say that, you know better.”

You let your cheeks heat up slightly. “What are you talking about? You are my current boyfriend.” You tried to explain, but it fell on deaf ears.

“No, I’m not, baby. But you already knew that. This little joke you’re doing is cute though.” he loosened his grip as he revealed that he knew your plan.

“Ugh, how did you know? I can’t ever prank you.” You whined as you shoved your face into his shoulder.

“Course you can’t, I know my girl too well. Now if you don’t mind I’m trying to go to sleep.” He let out another low laugh.

“We’ve been sleeping all day, it’s time to get up.” You groaned in boredom.

“Yeah, absolutely not.” Was all he responded with before flipping the position you two were in, laying him ontop of you. He laughed as you squirmed, trying to break free from his weight.

“Toshi! I can’t move!” You gripped at the already half asleep shinso.

“That’s kinda the whole point, sweetheart.”

[wheatnoodle]

stranger things teacher!steve au where he accidentally becomes the best teacher at hawkins high school

it starts at lucas’s basketball practice one evening.

steve arrives early, figures he’ll watch them all practice as he waits for lucas to finish up. and from what he can see, this coach, different from who he had all his years of high school, is floundering. he’s shouting his head off at kids, insults flying from his lips like that’s what he’s really getting paid to do. nothing constructive to help them better themselves, of course not (and trust, they need all the help they can get). it’s hard enough to listen to, but then he watches the coach call a play. and he’s both seen and played enough basketball to know somebody is going home with a broken ankle.

that’s what gets him rushing down the bleachers and over to this god awful coach.

“hey, do you mind if i, um, if i step in here? it’s just, i don’t think this method of coaching is really beneficial to-“ he starts his long winded explanation only to be cut off by the shoving of a clipboard into his chest.

“take it. i don’t care,” the coach grumbles, “these kids are all USELESS ANYWAYS! i QUIT!”

and steve stands so shocked for a few seconds before he snaps out of it and calls the team in to huddle up. lucas claps him on the shoulder with a “way to go, steve! that dude always has a stick up his ass!” (“language, sinclair” “yeah, yeah, are you gonna coach us now or what?”)

and that’s how steve finds himself in the principal’s office, as a graduated adult, being given the rundown of what exactly being the hawkins high basketball coach entails.

and, to nobody’s surprise, he does…fantastic. he gives pep talks before practices and games, brings actually healthy snacks (it starts with just fruit and waters, but it quickly turns into fully packed lunches when he learns how little some of his athletes get to eat), drills feel like backyard games, and they have monthly team bonding nights.

he does so well in fact, that when mr.hinckley, the school’s gym teacher, has an accident and needs to take time off to heal, it only makes sense that steve harrington is once again sat in the maroon chair across from the principal. he’s being offered a temporary position, maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months, may even be till the end of the year. this would also make him the health/home ec teacher (at least it did in my school).

mind you, steve’s only been graduated for what, a year? robin’s still a senior, eddie a super super senior, and all of his little rats are in their freshman year.

so he’s in his first day of officially teaching and all of the kids know him as “coach”, so that’s what they choose to call him (it makes him cringe to hear “mr.harrington”. that’s his dad, and anything to not be like his dad-). and it starts with his second period gym class where in walks dustin henderson and mike wheeler, one much more pleased to see him than the other. dustin gets told off plenty for calling him by his first name during school hours (“it’s either mr.h or coach while we’re here, you got it, twerp?”) and mike meanders around the track to make the mile.

after that comes fourth period, where he’s expected to teach cooking to a group of seniors that would much rather be anywhere else and oh look there’s his best friend robin and eddie, the guy he has a massive crush on that’s now his student???

robin could not be happier to be calling her best friend all of the silly teacher names under the sun. all “sir” and “coach harrington”. she raises her hand high in the air and asks stupid questions just to get on his nerves. eddie has never paid so much attention in class before. he leans his chin on his palms and smiles up at steve all sweet and pretty like he’ll pass him just like that. (this becomes an issue later down the road when he realizes all of his friends expect him to pass them just because they’re them and he’s him. but, boy, does he have another thing coming for them when dustin gets his progress report back with a big fat F In his gym class).

another issue comes in the fact of just how young he is. most of his students, he went to school with. they saw the rise and fall of “king steve” due to now senior nancy wheeler. the jocks think they’re going to get a free ride, and the nerds are…well…terrified of him.

so he makes it his mission to prove to these kids just how much he’s changed. he lets his students know his classroom door is always open during lunch breaks and free periods (even when he’s teaching, if they just need to get away for a little while). hellfire needs a teacher to watch over them during club hours or else they’ll get shut down, so who better than steve? jeff, grant, and gareth are all wary of him at first and it takes a few sessions and eddie and the kids swearing up and down that he’s a good person before they start to warm up to him. of course, he comes bearing snacks and waters for their hours long sessions, just like his basketball boys.

with the corroded coffin boys showing that they were giving coach harrington a second chance, slowly the other nerds/geeks/freaks/and losers start to loosen up around him a little bit as well.

a group of kids starts stopping by his classroom during their lunch period, claiming to just be getting away from all of the noise. steve gets it, he can’t handle loud noises as well as he used to. but it’s afterwards when the group goes out into the hallways and he sees one of his ex jock friends shoves the smallest one into a locker that he makes his stance known. he storms over, steps between the groups and says how “this is absolutely unacceptable”. there is no room for bullying in his hallways and he makes it clear by giving the offender two detentions with him and dragging him to the principal’s office by his ear to call his parents and let them know what kind of kid they raised.

he starts turning his cooking class into a competition show, pairing up new groups of jocks and nerds combined to come up with the best dishes, chopped style. he stands back and watches as these kids of all different social levels work together and collaborate like they’ve been friends their whole lives. he answers questions when he’s really needed, but instead he just enjoys watching all of these kids suddenly be put on the same level of intelligence as each other.

more and more kids start showing up during their free periods to the point where he has full classrooms every day. the hellfire club comes by at least two to three times a week, robin stopping by every day to eat lunch and gossip with her bestie.

steve gets so involved with the school it’s unreal. he’s planning spirit week, he puts together activities for the pep rally (of course there’s a teacher vs student tug of war), and he chaperones every field trip he can because how is he supposed to say no to the aquarium, dustin? he sets up a tutoring club so that kids can come down and get help from other students or teachers that volunteer to help out. and even though he doesn’t have the best memory after so many knocks to the head, steve does his best to remember all of his students’ names and a fun fact about them so he always has something to talk about or ask about with his kids. he high fives students in the hallways and they even surprise him by asking when the next basketball game is (the championship game has the biggest turn out they’ve ever seen).

there’s an uptick in students actually participating in gym class because of his teaching, making everything truly feel like they’re just playing games together. mike even manages to round all the bases in a game of kickball (steve hasn’t felt so proud in a while). they go outside a lot when the marching band is out practicing when he realizes his students run faster with a little music. plus, what a great way to integrate band geeks and gym kids. he anonymously donates some of his parents money towards the school’s lacking sports department when more students start showing an interest in playing.

when mr.hinckley turns his leave of absence into an early retirement, it only makes sense that steve fills in the position full time the following school year.

eddie actually manages to graduate with steve’s help, which good for him! finally out of high school! except eddie can no longer live out his teacher/student fantasy in his head anymore. now when they start dating, steve isn’t breaking any rules that could cost him his job.

robin follows in his footsteps after her graduation and by the next year, she’s the assistant band director for hawkins high school. she wears a lanyard around and shoots finger guns at her students when she walks by. she still spends her free periods and lunch breaks in steve’s classroom, except now it’s ms.b going to spend the afternoon with her best friend, coach, instead of a student spending a bit tooooo long in a teacher’s room.

steve is doing so well in fact, that when vice principal morgan goes on maternity leave, it only makes sense that steve is once again sitting in the principal’s office. he’s told it’s an “acting” vice principal gig. a few months down the road and he’s the “interim” vice principal. after that, he just slots himself into another job, yet again, as mrs.morgan chooses the stay at home mom life. “vp coach” or “coach vp” the student body starts calling him.

so hes still the gym/health/home ec teacher and the basketball coach, but now he’s got some extra responsibilities and a sick new title. now as vice principal, steve is able to help with delegating the school’s budget. he gets a little wiggle room and puts it towards the arts and the music departments. eddie is able to come in a couple times a week and teach guitar lessons to the kids, hell, maybe he’s even the orchestra director.

so, steve takes over the school, one uplifted child and questionable job position at a time.

basically i love modern family and think that steve following the teacher path line that cameron tucker did from football coach to vp makes me giggle.

maybe i’ll continue in this, maybe make it into a little group of one shots, we’ll see.

[littledykeblue]

omg part 2 to fwb ellie when r returns the favourrrr

──𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑;

(fwb! ellie x reader): you get the chance to pay ellie back read part one: here!

wc: 1.7k | cw: slightly subby!ellie, oral sex (e!receiving), mirror sex (in a sense), hair-pulling, friends with benefits, MINORS DNI.

note: i wasn't even planning on a part two but im so happy it was good enough for u guys to want one!! i hope you enjoy :3

It’s been a few days since you last saw Ellie. Just when things were starting to heat up again, she got a call from Joel and had to head out. The two of you parted with a kiss and a promise to finish this later. Life has a way of keeping you both busy, but not forever.

The opportunity finally comes when a mutual friend sends out an invite to a house party. You barely finish reading it before you’re dialing Ellie’s number.

She answers after three rings. “What’s going on?” she asks, voice distracted, background noise crackling faintly. Probably mid-match.

“You busy?”

“Nah, just carrying this shitty fucking team,” she mutters, pointedly. You can practically hear her eye-roll. “Always got time for you, though.”

Your mouth tugs into a smile. “Aww. I was just calling to see if you got Jesse’s party invite.”

There’s a pause—a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath—and then, “Sorry. We just lost. Now you have my undivided attention.”

“Lucky me.” You try to keep your voice casual, maybe a little flirty, already thumbing through your closet for something decent. “Party. Jesse. Are you going?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah,” she says quickly. “If you’re going.”

“I am,” you say. “You should come over so we can uber...and you can pay for the uber.”

“I don’t know…” Her voice shifts, teasing now, that familiar edge creeping in. “What do I get if I do?”

“Put it on my tab,” you tell her smoothly, already smiling. “I’ll have it paid off by tonight.”

Ellie laughs. Short, sharp, almost a giggle. “I’ll swing by at, like, nine,” she says. “Or I could make it eight, if you wanna pre-game.”

“When have I ever said no to a pre-game?”

Ellie makes a disapproving little noise, full of mock judgment. “Your greed astounds me.”

“I can show you greedy.”

“Fingers crossed.”

You wrap up the call quickly after that, biting back the grin threatening to take over your face. It sticks with you while you finish getting ready, shimmying into a dress that hits mid-thigh. Your room still smells like your body spray, music thumping low from your speaker.

Ellie shows up a few minutes later, one hand in the pocket of her jacket and the other carrying a half-bottle of cheap tequila that you know all too well.

You let her in, and she whistles low when she sees you. “Damn.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “Ellie, stay focused. Take a shot.”

She obliges without argument, unscrewing the cap and pouring into mismatched glasses you already brought in from the kitchen. The first shot burns; the second goes down smoother. The warmth settles between you almost instantly. It's both from the alcohol and from the way she keeps looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You reach for your phone. “Come here,” you say, gesturing toward the full-length mirror. “Need a picture.”

Ellie groans but comes anyway, standing just behind you. Her hands settle naturally at your waist, and her chin hooks over your shoulder as she squints at your phone screen.

You snap the photo, then glance at it. “Do you think we look too couple-y here?”

Ellie hums noncommittally, but she doesn’t move away. If anything, her hands shift lower, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress, right at the curve of your ass.

“Ellie.”

“I didn’t do anything,” she says, but she’s already kissing your neck, slow and deliberate. Her grip tightens slightly, greedier now.

"You're so annoying," you say, but make no move to stop her.

Her hands slide down further, palms curving fully over your ass, and you feel her smile against your skin.

You turn in her arms and kiss her, your hands sliding up around her shoulders and pulling her in. She presses closer like she can’t help it, grabbing two full handfuls now.

“We're not going out, are we?” You ask against her mouth.

Ellie kisses you again, rougher this time. “Depends on how good you are.”

You’re barely done kissing before Ellie’s hands are on the hem of your dress, tugging it upward, pushing it over your hips. You help her, dress over your head and tossed somewhere onto the floor. Ellie shrugs off her jacket, lips still trailing kisses along your jaw.

Between greedy hands and breathless laughs, the rest of your clothes come off in pieces, neither of you really bothering to slow down. Still, every time you pause to kiss—deep, hungry, open-mouthed—it feels like the world shrinks down to this single moment. Her mouth, her hands, her skin against yours.

She pulls you toward the bed and sits at the edge, facing the mirror. Her legs spread automatically, casual, confident.

You drop to your knees between hers.

Ellie lets her eyes drag down your body, then back up again. “You’re lucky, y’know,” she says, her voice thick, low, entirely too pleased with herself. “Not many people get the great honor of eating me out.”

You roll your eyes so hard you might see stars. “You’re unbearable.”

“And you’re still here. On your knees for me.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. You just lean in, pressing your lips to the inside of her thigh. You're soft at first. A slow kiss. Then another, just a little higher. You trail them inward, biting and sucking dark bruises into the skin.

Ellie’s breathing harder, her hips jerking just barely as she tries her best to maintain her control in this situation.

You take your time, lips dragging over skin, building it slow. Your tongue teases her clit, just barely, just enough to make her shift in place. She lets out a low breath, eyes fixed on you in the mirror now.

“Don't play with me,” she warns, her voice already breaking at the edges. “You keep me waiting any longer, and I'm going to explode.”

Despite the part of you that kind of wants to see what exactly she'd do about it, you don’t leave her waiting long. You dip in, tongue parting her folds slowly, deliberately. And fuck, she’s already so wet for you.

You groan softly against her, and Ellie exhales hard, one hand flying to your hair, fingers curling in just enough to anchor herself.

“That’s it,” she murmurs, voice tightening. “Fuck, that’s it. Just like that.”

You keep at it: tongue moving in careful, hungry strokes, licking and sucking like you’ve got nowhere else to be tonight. Her thighs twitch, her hips lift just slightly, chasing your mouth.

You find your rhythm fast, your mouth working over her with growing intensity, each pass of your tongue earning a fresh curse or ragged breath from above. Ellie’s thighs tense on either side of you, muscles twitching with each slow grind of her hips.

In the mirror, she watches it all.

Her lips are parted, one hand gripping your hair tighter now, anchoring you like she’s afraid you might stop. The other hand slips up under her tank top, palm cupping her own breast. She moans softly when she squeezes, her breath stuttering.

“Jesus fuck,” she pants, hips stuttering against your mouth. “You’re so good at this. Fuck, don’t stop.”

You don’t. If anything, you double down. Your tongue flattening, pressure sharper now, hungrier. Your hands grip her thighs, fingers digging in as you drive her higher. You can feel how wet she is, how hot. How close.

“Touch yourself,” she says suddenly, voice cracking. You glance up, and her head tilts just slightly, eyes still locked on the mirror. “Please. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty you look when you're getting off to me.”

You don’t hesitate. Just to give her a little show, you spread your legs a bit, arch your back enough that Ellie can get a real good look.

One hand slips between your legs, fingers finding heat and slick right away. You moan low into her, the vibration making Ellie flinch and gasp above you.

“Oh my God,” she groans, her voice shattering around the edges. “That’s it. Just like that. Fuck, that’s so hot. You're so...hot.”

You keep going, your fingers circling your own clit now, quick and needy, your mouth working even harder against her. Something about the sound of her begging for it, of her watching herself come undone while knowing you’re falling apart too — it makes you reckless.

You lick deeper, suck harder, moaning into her cunt as your own pleasure builds beneath your hand.

Ellie tugs at your hair sharply, her thighs starting to clamp around your head, her chest rising and falling like she’s chasing something just out of reach.

“Yes, baby,” she gasps. “Don’t stop. M'gonna come.”

She’s so close now it’s in every part of her:

The way her breath hitches, the way her grip in your hair tightens to the point of sting, the way her hips roll and stutter against your face like her body can’t help it anymore.

You don’t let up. You stay locked in, mouth soaked, your own hand still working between your thighs as you push her higher, relentless and steady.

Your tongue slides just right. Deep, then sharp and quick, then back again; Ellie falls apart above you beautifully.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna,” she gasps, voice barely coherent, her thighs beginning to clamp around your head. Her body trembles beneath your hands, and she looks at herself in the mirror like she can’t believe it — flushed and wide-eyed, panting, one hand twisted in your hair, the other now gripping the sheets for grounding.

You moan into her, sucking her clit just once, hard and perfect, and that does it.

Ellie comes with a sharp cry, her body seizing. Her hips jerk forward once, twice, before she nearly folds in on herself, breath knocked out of her, hand fisting in your hair tight enough to hurt.

“Oh my God,” she chokes out, head tipped back now, eyes fluttering shut. “Holy shit, I—”

You keep going until your own orgasm tears through you. Ellie takes it all, twitching and breathless, legs shaking around your shoulders.

Eventually, her hand loosens in your hair. Her thighs slacken. She exhales, long and shaky, the kind of sound that only comes after being completely undone.

You glance up, mouth shining, flushed and still panting from your own touch. Ellie’s watching you in the mirror again, eyes half-lidded, dazed and ruined and still not done looking.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, throat raw. “You’re insane.”

You shrug a little, smug despite the racing in your chest. “Told you I could show you greedy.”

Ellie lets out a broken laugh, dragging you up by the wrist and pulling you into her lap, still catching her breath.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, kissing your temple. “You got me there.”

[nikknamed-ink]

What helps me in life, or rather the thing I struggle with most, is pressure.

I had a time during my school days, when I didn't write at all. I only noticed this like a year in, but I simply had no time due to the school pressure and having to learn, and stuff.

I also had a time, maybe it was even the same timeframe but I don't remember fully, when I decided that if I can't finish anything I start I can't start anything new.

This pressure led to me not writing at all for that time.

Maybe situation A caused B, maybe the other way around, but I spent a long long while not writing.

I think what helped me out of it, ultimately,was a) to give it time. And b) to take all the pressure out. Or, as much as I could.

That could look like: only writing down ideas (a habit I rly rly encourage. Write down your ideas every time you get them bc that means you'll get more and it's generally a lot of fun to look at later on). Or... Only writing dialogue. Or something that might help you: if you wanna get back, but you can't get far, set yourself the goal of writing one (1) word per day. Just one. If you feel like more you can write more. But just write one. That's all it takes.

Because I generally find that putting pressure on myself to do it all always super well it... Leads to disappointment and pain when I get a bad day and I get rly hard on myself about it.

Which, also, I wanna talk about: be kind to yourself. Focus on what you did do, not what you didn't.

When you said you managed to write 2 sentences and then faltered, that's two entire sentences! That's amazing. Like, you went from not using those muscles to two sentences. That's infinite improvement.

But I think, what's most important, is listen to your body and brain. If something doesn't work it usually is a clue for the fact that you're going at it wrong. Find different routes. If you wrote a lot of prose (novel-like text for example), then try poetry. If you can't get descriptions down, try dialogue only. Or the reverse. How about movie scripts? Comics? See what strikes your fancy!

I'm currently in a phase where I don't really write much in the "the story moves forward" sense, but I plan a lot. I think about the stories, I try to figure out where the story goes and what the problems are and why this character does that.

Lean into what works, and ignore what doesn’t for now. And look at that in a week or so and try to figure out why.

Also, best tip of mine: grab yourself a buddy and talk with them about your ideas. Brainstorm together. Create ideas that aren't intended to be written down. There's lots of games for this. (or if you don't know any, plushies or making an audio to yourself are great ways to just talk out loud to yourself about the story or characters or whatever it is that actually drives you to the stories you wanna tell.

See what works. Celebrate it. And be proud of what you're doing. Pressure is the enemy of creativity. At least it is for me.

Hi! Lately, I've been trying real hard to start writing again after a break of a couple of years, and it's simply not happening. I took the break to begin with because I figured that I could pick up writing fic again easily when I felt less burned out. But each time I've tried since 2025 started I can barely get the words out. I keep telling myself I need to go slow and build up to it, but my brain blanks after a sentence or two, with or without an outline. I can force myself into a drabble or two, or even a flashfic, but it feels like pulling teeth the entire time. I even tried going back to old drafts and adding to them (unsuccessfully). Nothing works! I'm getting more and more frustrated and angry with myself for taking this long of a break from being creative. Do you have any concrete recommendations for what to do when the ideas/words/characters/whatever just aren't coming? My brain is mush.

(I love this blog. So excited to see you back.)

I'll tell you what I do, but I also want to encourage folks to add their thoughts on the notes. This is very much a situation that can be worked on in a million different ways, so any one particular take might or might not work. Often, frankensteining a bunch together is the better route.

I've currently got two creative hobbies: writing fic and making site skins for AO3. When a site skin isn't working, I just have to drop it. I've been attempting to redo my glowy blue Tron skin from like 4 years ago and every time I go back to it, I just get frustrated and need to stop. I don't have a clear idea of where I want to take it, and so nothing looks "right" because everything feels wrong. For site skins, I need to have a solid idea to latch onto in order to get anywhere with them.

For writing, it's kind of similar. It's a LOT easier to write when I have an idea that really lights a fire under me. However, I've found that I can write even if I just know what the end goal of the story is. Even if my ending is just "and then they bone" at least I know where I need to get my characters in the end, and that guiding principle is really helpful because most of what my characters do in the fic is going to be aimed at that end point.

I don't know if it's just the way that you've phrased it in this ask, but it seems like you can't see the story for the words. If you're focused too much on the act of writing then you might need to back away from that for now and work on just imagining the story first. Spend more time daydreaming or lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and picturing your blorbo in situations. Get into the habit of thinking about the story before you start writing the story. Then the writing part is just transcribing the picture that's already clear in your head.

I well understand the frustration that comes when you've got something in you and no way to get it out. Whatever else is happening, the way you used to go about writing fic doesn't work for you anymore and now you need to discover a new method. Maybe it's handwriting in a notebook instead of typing on a screen. Maybe it's dictating into your notes app. Maybe it's chatting it out with a bestie over coffee or in a DM. Maybe it's something else.

Let's see what other people suggest for you, and then you can cobble together a method of your very own. Good luck, anon! I'm rooting for you ❤️

[kdh-tally]

If it's not too much to ask can you write something about Zoey and Baby being absolute bestfriends? Whether it's a fic or headcanons it's a-okay I just need more content of my cuties

Baby and Zoey Against the World

Prompt : Zoey and Baby as best friends

Author's Note : Literally one of my favourite duo's to write for. Slowly working through all of my requests you guys!! sorry they're taking a while lol. Enjoy!!!!!!

Baby sought out to be Zoey’s friend to spite Mystery, but also just cause he thought she was kinda cool.

After Huntrix beat Gwi-ma and the boys resurrected as humans, Baby decided that maybe it would be alright to get attached to some people

Those people being the huntrix girls and no one else. 

Not sure if I mentioned it anywhere but they definitely treat him like their baby brother.

So now Baby has 4 annoying older ‘brothers’ and two older ‘sisters’ and Zoey.

Zoey is like that one sibling that was born right after you and everyone treats you both like twins.

That's how he views Zoey

His annoying younger twin sister who’s actually older than him.

Anyways!

Zoey didn’t necessarily care about befriending Baby

She still holds a grudge against him for side-eyeing her during the meet and greet.

That changed when she was sneaking around the group's shared kitchen at like 2 in the morning. 

Baby was already at the fridge, eating the remainder of Rumi’s saved leftovers that Jinu would definitely kill him for having.

He freezes once he sees Zoey’s shadow, fully ready to disappear back into his room when she just grabs a fork and finishes it with him.

“Major respect dude.” she’d mumble between bites.

They finished the food together and their new friendship blossomed.

They’re always on the same wavelength.

Especially when it comes to testing stupid ideas.

Abby looked around the room, it was unusually quiet. Too quiet. “Where are Zoey and Baby?”

“They said they were going to test the fire resistance of demon skin.” Mira responded, opening a text she had just received from Zoey.

“What does that even mean?”

“They’re lighting Baby’s skin on fire Abby.”

Zoey is the mastermind behind half of their plans. Baby is her enabler.

Zoey would get ideas like renting out an amusement park for a day so both groups could like parkour through them with their powers.

Baby commits 110%. 

Even though he’s fully aware Jinu could probably book it through the company, he chooses to use his demon powers to hypnotize all the workers into allowing them in.

I swear they’re twins bro.

Maybe they were born 2 weeks apart or something, I don't know but they must be twins.

They defend each other like wild animals.

They were once doing promo for their groups, being on some variety show as the maknae duo.

One of the hosts tried to throw shade at Zoey, suggesting she was just a pretty face with no real talent.

Baby interrupted

“I didn’t know this was a comedy show. You got any other jokes or was that your best shot?”

Zoey later repaid the favour when an anti-fan tried to claim that Baby wasn’t ambitious enough to be a Saja Boy member.

She reposted Baby’s solo performance on her story with the caption

You wish you had HALF of his talent

They have multiple matching keychains.

I feel like Zoey would be a HUGE spider man fan and would force BAby to watch all the movies with her.

She’d have a cute spiderman keychain and would force him to wear a venom one. 

Mystery is so jealous but Zoey has so many matching things with him. 

Matching clothes, bracelets, necklaces, hair accessories, tattoo…

Baby pretends he doesn’t like the key chain but he carries it everywhere.

Fans notice it and only fawn over their friendship even more.

They have a podcast no one asked for. It’s called “Don’t Quote Us.”

It’s really just them on live giving bad advice, talking conspiracy theories, and rating snacks from their favourite convenience stores.

A/N!! (Read my headcannons of Baby x reader [they're a convenience store owner]) Shameless promo 💀

“Why do people listen to this?” Romance mumbles, watching them from behind the camera. 

“It’s weirdly addictive,” Jinu responds.

They definitely go thrifting together.

Zoey would make him friendship bracelets with cursed looking beads she finds.

Similarly to the keychains, he wears them religiously.

Baby draws her as a stick figure in the margins of Mystery’s notebook during meetings. It always says something like. “The uglier twin”

He acknowledges his sibling-like attachment to her but refuses to admit that he’s actually fond of her.

Baby seems like he’d know sign language

This being something he’d learnt from Mystery.

Mystery might have learnt sign language just so he’d have an excuse to not talk to people. 

He and Baby would communicate that way a lot.

When Zoey and Mystery start going out, she also learns sign language.

So now Zoey, Mystery and Baby know sign language.

They, as in Zoey and Baby, use it like some secret code

Whenever one of them gets bored when in a large group, they look at the other and sign

Does Jinu always stare at Rumi during these meetings?

Bro I don’t know

You’re literally his band member???

I don’t even like him like that. *Sends Zoey a frowny face for emphasis*

No one knows what they’re doing, except Mystery, but even he is lost because of the speed at which they’re signing.

They’re very difficult to handle when together.

Rumi and Jinu have definitely put them on time out from each other but it never lasts long.

Their friendship is unshakable.

They fight like siblings, tease each other like besties.

Mystery has begged Jinu to stop leaving Baby around her because he’s convinced he’ll turn Zoey into a demon.

But the best thing about having a best friend is being able to sit with them when things don’t make sense.

No need for words. Just shared earbuds, snacks and food.

[callmemonster68]

bigboy | enhypen

Y/N has a thing for grand things, and, well, boys definitely fit the description

paring: enhypen x fem!reader 18+ | masterlist

warnings: nsfw

HEESEUNG Setting: Heeseung is showing off a new pair of sneakers with thick soles. Dialogue: Y/N: "Those sneakers are huge. You know, I have a thing for big things." (Heeseung pauses mid-lace-tying and looks at you with a smirk.) Heeseung: "Oh yeah? Like what, for example?" Y/N (laughing): "I’m sure you know exactly what I mean." Heeseung (chuckling): "You’re getting really good at teasing, you know that?" (He steps closer and lowers his voice.) Heeseung: "We should continue this conversation later… without an audience."

JAY Setting: The group is eating dessert, and someone comments on the oversized cake Jay brought. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, Jay, you really like big things, huh?" Jay (laughing): "Always! Better to have too much than not enough." (You glance at him suggestively, and a small giggle escapes.) Jay (noticing): "Wait… are you talking about the cake or…?" Y/N: "Depends. Do you think I’m talking about the cake?" (He tilts his head with a mischievous smile.) Jay: "I think we should talk about this in private."

SUNOO

Setting: The group is discussing oversized bags, and Sunoo is showing off a new one he bought. Dialogue: Y/N: "That bag is massive, Sunoo! I love big things like that—they draw attention." Sunoo: "Oh? Then I guess you must be used to me." (You’re surprised by his quick comeback and laugh loudly.) Y/N: "Look who’s confident today!" Sunoo: "Just matching your energy. You started it, I finished it." (He winks and goes back to adjusting the bag, pretending to be indifferent but clearly smiling.)

SUNGHOON

Setting: Sunghoon picks up a large water bottle and comments on how practical it is. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, that bottle is huge! I really love big things like that." Sunghoon: "Oh, do you? So that’s your preference?" (You laugh and glance at him.) Y/N: "Maybe. Why? Curious?" Sunghoon (smiling): "Depends. Do you want me to be curious?" (He takes a sip of water without breaking eye contact.) Sunghoon: "This conversation seems like it’s about to get interesting later."

JAKE Setting: You’re helping decorate a room, and Jake is holding a large statue to place on a shelf. Dialogue: Y/N: "Wow, Jake, that’s really big. I like things like that—big." (He raises an eyebrow, noticing your chuckle.) Jake: "Are you sure you’re talking about the statue?" Y/N (shrugging): "Maybe. Why? Got something else in mind?" Jake (nervously laughing): "You just love making me flustered, don’t you?" Y/N: "I’m just being honest." (He places the statue on the shelf but doesn’t take his eyes off you.) Jake (quietly): "I’d like to hear more about those preferences later."

JUNGWON Setting: Jungwon shows up with an oversized pillow, and everyone comments on how exaggerated it looks. Dialogue: Y/N: "That pillow is huge. You know, I really like big things." Jungwon (raising an eyebrow): "Do you now? You seem pretty specific about that." (You give him a playful smile and glance at him briefly.) Y/N: "Maybe I’m just appreciating the view." Jungwon: "If you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking it’s not just the pillow impressing you." (He laughs and shakes his head, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away.)

NI-KI Setting: The group is playing video games, and someone comments on the massive size of a character on the screen. Dialogue: Y/N: "Look at the size of that! I love things like that—big, you know?" Niki: "Oh, really? Since when did you develop such refined taste?" (You chuckle and look directly at him.) Y/N: "Always have. Some big things are just hard to ignore." Niki (blushing): "Are you teasing me, or are you serious?" Y/N: "What do you think?" (He pretends to focus on the game, but the grin on his face makes it clear he’s not forgetting this anytime soon.)

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[ellerial]

TW: mention of body in a lake, but it's Danny's

Alright, maybe it wasn't the smartest idea. Danny wasn't exactly known for "thinking things through". He was more of a punch first, talk later, or that seems funny, do it, kind of person.

Also, how was he to plan that, instead of Jazz finding his floating corpse in the lake they were spending the weekend at, Tim "I guess he's a detective now?" Drake was the one who rolled him out of the water? Or, that Tim happened to be the hottie he'd hit on at the podunk bar last night and was taking his "murder" a little personally? He also took the whole body vanishing before the cops showed up thing really personally...

Why was Tim "way cuter than I remember him" Drake out here in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin anyway?? Danny would have to come back soon to get as much of the evidence Tim had collected from his body after he explained what happened to the fraid. The whole crew was going to have to finish their experiments with the natural portals under Lake Eerie really quickly and get the hell outa dodge before Tim investigates any further, cuz in the 5 minutes it took Danny to decide to go invisible and dip, Tim already had basically his whole (official) life story all laid out on his laptop.

Wait. Wasn't Tim from Gotham?

Didn't his family have a connection to the bats??

And thus, the Justice League that they've successfully stayed under the radar from for the past 8 years???

Ooh, Danny was gonna be in so much trouble when Jazz found out.

[sherewrytes]

Song Inspo: Baby by me 50 cent.

Just wanted to write a choso fic... This aint got another part cause na..

Ps: I forgot this finished fic was in my drafts so here ya go.

The music pulsed through the lounge like a heartbeat, steady and heavy, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses adding to the atmosphere. You looked up as the bartender slid a cocktail your way, chilled and clear. A smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth as you sipped, eyeing the room. Tonight, you had no agenda other than to enjoy yourself—but then you felt it, a gaze burning into you from across the room.

You didn’t have to look around to know who it was. You’d already noticed him the second you walked in—tall, dark hair pulled back, intense eyes that could cut right through you. He had that unbothered vibe, leaned back against the bar, calm like he owned the place. And now? He was looking right at you, giving you a once-over that lingered a little too long to be innocent.

You raised an eyebrow, letting him know you weren’t just anybody. He noticed, smirking back like he was ready for whatever you had to offer. With one last sip, you decided to close the distance and sauntered over, heels clicking against the floor as you stopped a few inches from him. Close enough for him to feel your presence, but not close enough for him to think he’d won anything yet.

“So you just gon’ stare all night, or you got somethin’ to say?” you asked, letting your voice hold a little tease, a little challenge.

He chuckled low, leaning in slightly. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, voice smooth and deep, every word like velvet. “I was just waiting to see if you’d come over on your own.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you said, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Big man, too good to make the first move, huh?”

“Not too good,” he said, eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stand up. “Just don’t gotta chase when I know you want it just as bad.”

His confidence was practically dripping, but there was something else—something about the way he looked at you, like he was studying every inch of you and committing it to memory. He took a step closer, eyes trailing from your face down to your lips, then back up.

“So what’s your name?” you asked, finally.

He leaned in, voice a low murmur. “Choso. And you?”

You told him your name, watching his expression shift as he repeated it, as if savoring each syllable. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a spark as he held your gaze. He wasn’t playing, and something about his vibe told you he wasn’t just another smooth-talker. He wasn’t about to ask for your number or play the usual games—he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

He took another step forward, leaning down just slightly until you could feel his breath on your neck. “You know,” he murmured, voice just for you, “I don’t like wasting time. So if you’re feelin’ this too, maybe we can take it somewhere else.”

A shiver went down your spine, but you kept your cool, raising an eyebrow. “Boy, you really think you just gon’ walk me outta here like that?”

Choso tilted his head, amused. “Depends,” he said, voice steady and low. “You wanna see what I got in mind?”

Something in his eyes made you pause. You didn’t break eye contact, your heart picking up speed, but your voice was steady as you replied. “Lead the way.”

Choso led you through the dimly lit hallways of the lounge and out into the cool night air. He kept his hand light on the small of your back as you walked, but the heat radiated off him. The moment felt thick, like you were both waiting for the other to say something, but words didn’t feel necessary. He exuded this quiet confidence—like he knew exactly where this night was headed and was content to let it play out in his own time. You could tell he wasn’t one for unnecessary small talk.

Minutes later, you were stepping into his place: sleek, masculine, all dark tones and low lighting, with a floor-to-ceiling window showing off the city skyline in all its late-night glory. It was impressive, almost too perfect—but that only made him more intriguing. He walked a few steps ahead, then turned, looking you up and down slowly, like he was weighing every inch of you.

“So this how you do things?” you asked, crossing your arms, keeping your tone easy but your stance ready. “All quiet and mysterious, huh?”

He let out a quiet laugh, closing the distance between you with a few deliberate steps. “You got a problem with that?” His voice was low, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent chills down your spine.

You shrugged, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ll let you know if I do.”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, trailing a hand slowly down your arm, his touch light but deliberate. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, but every word was weighted, like he was savoring the way you looked under his hands.

You raised an eyebrow. “That supposed to impress me?”

“Nah,” he replied, his eyes holding a dark gleam. “It’s supposed to let you know I don’t play games. When I want something, I make it clear.”

The air between you practically crackled, a heavy silence settling over the room. Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity through you. He was testing you, seeing how you’d react, and when you didn’t pull away, he continued, his touch becoming bolder, his grip firm around your waist as he pressed you closer.

“Tell me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice dropping lower, rougher, “how much can you handle?”

You smirked, running a hand along the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there. “Think you can find out?”

That was all the invitation he needed. He backed you up slowly until you felt the wall at your back, his hands braced on either side of you, trapping you in his gaze. His eyes were half-lidded, but the look in them was sharp, calculating, like he was mentally cataloging every reaction, every hitched breath, every glance.

He leaned in close, his mouth hovering just a breath away from yours. “You like a challenge?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, each word laced with something dark, almost dangerous.

Your heart pounded, but you kept your tone steady, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. “Why don’t you give me one?”

In response, he smirked, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was possessive, claiming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt about who was in control. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, just enough pressure to send a thrill through you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed you harder against the wall.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath coming in low, steady beats as his thumb traced slow circles against your neck. “You can try to play coy all you want,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, “but I know you’re feelin’ this just as much as I am.”

You gave him a slow smile, your pulse racing. “Guess we’ll see how long that confidence lasts.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate through you. “Oh, trust me,” he said, leaning in close, his lips brushing your ear. “I got enough to last all night.”

The next moments were a blur of heat and hands, each touch more intense than the last. Choso’s dominance wasn’t loud or showy; it was a steady, deliberate control, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. His grip was firm, his movements unhurried, every action calculated to push you just a little further, to keep you on edge.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. “Told you,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw as he held your gaze. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting out a slow breath. “Neither do I.”

He chuckled, stepping back just slightly, but his gaze never left you, a promise hanging in the air. “Then you better keep up.”

The tension between you and Choso thickened as he pulled you from the wall, guiding you through the dimly lit apartment until you found yourselves in his bedroom. The city lights cast shadows across the room, a faint glow illuminating his sharp features, the intensity in his eyes undeniable. He watched you, hands grazing your arms as he stepped closer, letting his fingers trail slowly, possessively, along the line of your jaw.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low, with a slight rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. “I knew it the second I saw you.”

Your breath hitched as his hand slid down, his grip firm around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and powerful, like he was barely holding himself back.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied, your voice steady but soft, feeling the energy between you two grow thicker, more electric.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating low in his chest. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”

Without another word, he tilted your chin up, bringing his lips down to yours. The kiss was intense, but slow—controlled, almost like he was savoring the taste of you. He wasn’t rushed or careless; every movement felt purposeful, like he was taking his time, memorizing each reaction, every shiver that coursed through you.

Choso’s hands trailed up your back, his grip firm as he shifted you onto the bed. He hovered above you, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took you in, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper as he pressed kisses along your collarbone, down to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. His teeth grazed your skin, a rough edge that sent a surge of anticipation through you, his hands exploring every inch, testing how far he could push you.

“You talkin’ big game, but I don’t know if you really ‘bout it,” you teased, eyes challenging as you met his gaze. You weren’t going to let him have full control without a fight.

His grin widened, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Is that a challenge?”

You smirked, leaning up to press your lips against his, daring him to show you what he was made of. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and the air between you turned charged, electric. Each touch, each kiss, felt like a promise—a thrill of something dangerous, like he was giving you just a taste of what he was capable of.

Choso pulled back, his fingers brushing down your neck, lingering at the pulse point, feeling your heart race beneath his touch. “Then let me make one thing clear,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing yours, his voice like velvet. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, filling the room with a dark intensity that was intoxicating. You didn’t break eye contact, letting him see the challenge in your gaze, knowing this was only the beginning of something that felt bigger than either of you.

“Prove it.”

And that was all it took. His control slipped just slightly, enough for him to let go, to press you against the bed with a fierceness that left no room for questions. He wasn’t just taking you; he was showing you the lengths he’d go to leave his mark on you, to make sure you’d remember this moment, remember him, long after the night was over.

As his hands roamed, as his touch grew rougher, you felt yourself surrendering to his rhythm, to his pace, each sensation blending into the next, pulling you deeper into his orbit, where nothing else mattered except the two of you.

He picked her up like nothing  like she weighed nothing. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she let out a soft gasp as his grip dug just slightly into her thighs. He was hot to the touch, shirt off, skin gleaming with a light sheen from the heat they’d been building between them all day.

“You good?” he asked low in her ear, voice a full-bodied promise that vibrated in her bones.

Before she could answer  before she could smirk or toss something slick back  he dropped her onto the bed. The bounce of the mattress caught her breath in her throat, silk sheets ruffling beneath her body as she landed, wide-eyed, lips parted.

Choso stood at the edge, towering. That look in his eye, full beast mode, full claim, full You gon’ feel every second”

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes roaming over her body like she was art, war, and worship in one breath.

“Spread,” he said.

You bit her bottom lip. “What if I don’t?”

He tilted his head, smirked, then crawled onto the bed slow panther-like. The mattress dipped beneath him, one hand planted beside her head, the other gliding up the inside of her thigh till it hooked under her knee and pulled her open, lips brushing her jaw.

“Then I take,” he growled, and kissed her  deep. One of those tongue-and-teeth kisses that had her back arching into him, her arms winding around his neck, her body remembering how perfectly he fit.

“You want me to behave?” she breathed between kisses, teasing but breathless.

He kissed her harder. “No. I want you to remember.”

Then he dipped down, slowly, kissing every inch of collarbone, chest, belly  making her feel each place his mouth landed like a ritual. When he got lower, her hips already rising for him, he paused, looked up with that dark, honey-slick stare.

“Hold still,” he said, voice gritty. “You ran before. Not this time.”

And then he devoured her.

The kind of devouring that made her moan out his name, the full one CHOSO! over and over like a prayer gone rogue. His hands pinned her hips down, his tongue and lips moving with mastery, devotion, and intent to have her unravel under him like silk sliding off flame.

By the time he came back up, lips glistening, beard damp, her chest was heaving.

“You good?” he asked, cocky but breathless himself now.

“I was.”

He didn’t even let her finish, flipped her over gently, hand flat on her back. “Nah, mama. You will be.”

Hours slipped by in a haze of touches, whispers, and promises. By the time the first light of dawn crept through the window, you lay next to him, breathless, tangled in the sheets. He looked over at you, his eyes softening just slightly, a rare vulnerability there that made your heart skip.

“What?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you caught him staring.

Choso shrugged, a lazy smirk crossing his face. “Just makin’ sure you’re still breathing. Thought I might’ve taken you out for good.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as you propped yourself up on one elbow. “Boy, please. I’m not that easy.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You think you can handle me?”

You leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, meeting his gaze with a steady confidence. “I can handle a lot more than you think.”

Choso laughed, the sound low and genuine, like you’d finally managed to catch him off guard. “Guess I’ll have to keep pushing, then.”

You didn’t need to respond; the look in your eyes said enough.

[delilahsturniolo]

‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁ RED, WHITE, AND YOU.

── lovergirl!reader teasing neighbor!fwb!matt by the pool at a fourth of july party

⤷ warnings . . . smut, boob play, clit play, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, kissing, dirty talk, degradation, use of pet names, some fluff at the end.

⤷ written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the fourth of july hits like it always does on your street. too loud, too hot, and absolutely filled with people. the kind of people you’ve grown up waving to from driveways and across fences. same barbecue, same folding chairs, same faded red-white-and-blue decorations. but this year’s different.

this year, you’re eighteen and lounging by the pool in a red bikini that could barely pass the fingertip rule. glossed lips. damp hair. freshly lotioned legs stretched over your towel. and a certain neighbor who can’t seem to stop staring from across the yard. matt.

he’s trying to play it cool, acting like he doesn’t care. sitting with his brothers and pretending not to look over at you every five seconds, but you can feel his eyes tracing every inch of your skin. like he’s remembering exactly what you feel like under him. you dip your legs in the pool, arch your back just enough to shift your top, and sip slowly from your iced drink. he swallows hard from across the yard, jaw clenched.

you catch him staring and smile softly. he shakes his head. looks away. but not for long. later, the sun dips lower, the sky completely dark, the crowd thins. fireworks are being set up in the cul-de-sac. his brothers are distracted. and you’re still by the pool, alone now, lazily swirling your feet in the water.

until you hear the gate creak. “this what you wanted?” matt’s voice is low, rough. he’s behind you now, his shadow falling over your bare back. “sitting here like that. teasing me all day.”you look over your shoulder, wide-eyed and fake-innocent. “i was just tanning, matt.”

he scoffs. steps closer. his fingers brush your spine. “nah. you were begging me to come over here.” your breath catches. you stand slowly, droplets rolling down your thighs as you face him, chest to chest. your bikini clings to every curve, the air thick with chlorine and something warmer.

“maybe i was,” you whisper, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “what are you gonna do about—“ he kisses you before you finish the sentence, deep and hot and hungry. hands on your waist, walking you backwards until your back hits the fence. you gasp against his mouth and he smirks, because he knows he’s got you exactly where you wanted him.

his mouth doesn’t disconnect from yours as he grabs your waist, laying you down on the ground beside the pool and pulling his shirt off in a swift movement. you gasp as matt grabbed your boob through your bikini, he slowly pushed the fabric to the side and latched his mouth onto your nipple, slowly sucking before pulling away, tugging down the underwear of your bikini, revealing your absolutely soaked pussy.

“you like that baby? you think you can get away with teasing me? hm?” matt murmured, his silver chain hanging and brushing across your nose occasionally, the blue water of the pool reflecting across the side of your face flawlessly.

“so soaked for me love…” matt groaned at the sight, you moaned into his ear as his head dipped down to the side of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin as his other hand toyed with your wet slit. “tell me what you want baby, apologize for teasin’ me earlier..bein’ a little slut, showing off in front of everyone..” matt taunted, his fingers circling your clit, you let out a mix between a gasp and moan, reaching up to tangle your hands in his hair, you can hear fireworks crackling in the distance, and see them in the sky.

“fuck—please fuck me matt—m’sorry…” you whine, matt doesn’t respond. he only plunges two fingers into you, thrusting in and out, collecting your slick. his free hand clamps over your mouth as your moans grow louder. “sh sh—don’t want everyone else hearing how desperate you are, yeah?” he mutters, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean. you sit up slightly and help matt pull his boxers down, his hardened cock that you were oh so familiar with springing out.

matt slid into you with ease, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips hot against yours as his hips moved in a constant speed. the occasional crackle of fireworks and your moans mixed together filled the air. matt started increasing his speed, your pussy clenching around him. god—this was so wrong. fucking while everyone else was at the fireworks show? in his backyard? his mom thinking the both of you were just tired and didn’t wanna come? it made you feel horrible. but oh my gosh—it was so fucking worth it.

“close baby?” matt groaned against your lips, you nodded eagerly. “cum f’me love.” and you did. you didn’t hold back. his hand came back to cover your mouth as you screamed against it, your orgasm triggering his own. matt gave your neck a few more kisses before pulling away, pulling out of you with a slick sound, slowly sliding the bottoms to your bikini back on. you were still softly panting, another big crackle with a bright firework lighting the sky. matt laid next to you, looking up at the sky with you.

“you okay?” matt asked you, his voice gentler. you nodded, scooting away from the pool so you don’t fall in. “everyone’s probably wondering where we are right now.” you laughed, sitting up, and so did matt. “we’ve got a better view from here anyways.” matt chuckled, throwing his shirt back on and picking his phone up, the light illuminating his soft features. matt’s eyes widened, seeing the missed calls from marylou. you might’ve missed the firework show, but you and matt had your very own show right here.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: happy 4th of july to those who celebrate!

[formulafanfics13]

if you're comfortable with it, maybe some public sex with lando or franco? like, in the corner of a club or in the car or in a dark alleyway or----

😰😰😰😰😰

Back if the Bar - FC43 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: You and Franco slip out of a crowded bar and into a dark alley, where he fucks you rough against the wall in a possessive, filthy haze of jealousy and need. He makes you beg, covers your mouth, and finishes deep inside you — all while threatening to take things even further next time.

Warnings: Public sex, rough sex, choking, possessiveness, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, risk of being seen/heard, dominance and submission dynamics, degradation (consensual), use of mouth gagging for silence, slight aftercare tone. Smut.

You didn’t even make it out of the bar properly. One second you were standing by the wall with a drink in your hand, still laughing at something someone said, and the next, Franco had your wrist in his hand, jaw clenched, dragging you out through the back door without a word.

You didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. He looked like a man possessed. Black t-shirt tight across his chest. Chain catching the flash of the red exit light. That fucking jaw locked like he was chewing on something unspeakable.

And then the alley. Narrow. Damp. Dark except for the glow of a neon sign flickering above the kitchen door. You heard music thumping behind the bricks. Heard someone smoking near the front entrance. You didn’t care. Because he had you slammed against the wall a second later, both hands gripping your hips so hard you gasped.

“You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you?” he hissed, voice low, breath hot. “You think I was just gonna sit there and watch?”

You barely had time to open your mouth before his lips were on you. Hot. Hungry. Devouring. His tongue slid between your teeth, fingers already dragging your skirt up, knuckles scraping your thighs. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t planned. It was now. Immediate. Necessary.

Your back hit cold brick. Your thigh hit his belt buckle. Your mouth opened on a gasp.

“Franco-someone could see-”

He shoved a hand between your legs. Found your panties. Pulled them aside like they were a fucking inconvenience. “Let them,” he growled. “Let them hear you get ruined.”

You moaned, sharp, high, unfiltered. He didn’t even flinch. Just pushed two fingers into you like he owned it. Like your body was his property and the alley was his altar. He fucked you with his hand against the wall, the rough scrape of your spine against the bricks nothing compared to the stretch of his fingers, the drag of his thumb over your clit.

“You’re soaked already,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. “How long have you been waiting for this?”

You didn’t answer. So he pulled his hand away. Licked it. “Beg,” he said. “If you want me to fuck you out here, against this wall, with your skirt around your waist and your fucking pussy dripping, you better beg.”

You were panting. “Please,” you whispered. “Please, Franco. I want it. Right now.”

He didn’t wait. Unzipped his jeans. Freed his cock, thick, flushed, aching, and lined himself up with a groan so low it rumbled in his chest.

Then he grabbed your throat, shoved your back into the bricks, and fucked into you. You nearly screamed. His hand snapped up over your mouth. “Shh, baby,” he hissed. “Gotta be quiet. Gotta keep this dirty little secret.”

You were dripping down your thighs. The stretch of him was brutal. Deep. Bruising. And he didn’t hold back. He slammed into you again and again, hips snapping, breath ragged, sweat already slick on his temple. Your foot scraped against the wall for balance, your arms looped around his neck, mouth gasping against the heel of his palm.

“Take it,” he groaned. “Fucking take it. You love this. Love being my slut in an alley where anyone could walk past.”

You did. God help you, you fucking did. The risk. The filth. The raw goddamn power of it.

He reached between you, rubbed your clit with two fingers like he couldn’t bear to leave you untouched. “Come on,” he panted. “Come for me. Come like a whore on the street.”

You shattered. Mouth wide open under his hand. Body spasming. Nails digging into his shirt. You came with a cry buried in his palm, thighs shaking, pussy gripping him like a vice.

Franco groaned like a man losing his soul. Thrust deep once, twice... And then came inside you. Buried to the hilt. Head dropped to your shoulder. Hot. Fucking flooding you.

You both stayed there. Pressed together. Breathless. Then he pulled out slow, fingers catching the drip between your thighs, rubbing it into your skin like he wanted you to feel it later. “Messy girl,” he whispered, licking your jaw. “Next time? You get on your knees for me, right here in front of the fucking kitchen staff.”

You smiled. Ruined. Wild. “Next time,” you whispered back. “I’ll swallow it.”

[nightlyizuku]

enemies(?) to lovers - t. iida

part one can be found here!

you were debating. debating whether or not to piss iida off today or just put them in the box…

yeah…

you were pissing him off today.

you made sure your tie was messier than usual moving forward, you made sure your feet were always on the coffee table in the lounge area of the dorms, and, as always, you had more pins than normal.

tenya. had. had. it.

he couldn’t understand what was possibly so hard about following a dress code. after all, rules keep things simple. simplicity keeps things peaceful. peace keeps things hopeful. hope keeps things happy. was that so hard to understand?

it had been three weeks.

three weeks since he’d given you the container, three weeks since you started wearing your tie even messier, three weeks since you wore more pins than usual, three weeks since you started putting your feet on tables that you most certainly did not pay for, three weeks. he couldn’t do it anymore.

“y/n.” a voice called out from behind you as you walked in the near empty hallway of the dorms, you had to visit the support course to fix part of your hero costume, so you got back from classes a bit later than everyone else. you hummed, turning, it was tenya, oh boy.. “yes?” you asked, your interest somewhat piqued.

tenya looked at you, looking like he might burst, his short sleeve shirt buttoned to the tip of his neck, almost looking painful, fists clenched. “may i assist you?” he asked.

“with what?” because what could you possibly need tenya’s help with?

“may i help you tie your tie?” he asked, looking at you sparingly.

“it’s on fine,” you shrugged, “it’s not going anywhere.”

“but it seems you have trouble tying it correctly.” he retorted. “so may i help you?”

“uhm…” you hummed. “sure.”

he walked closer to you, the two of you not too far apart now, he picked up your tie in his hands, soft. his hands were soft. even if they brushed against yours very briefly.

he glanced up at you, his gaze not as harsh as it has been in the past, he began to slowly untie your red, UA tie. the tie sat across each of your shoulders.

“if you’re right handed, the wide side should be in your right hand, and the thin side in your left.” iida stated as he did just that, “and the opposite if you’re left handed.”

iida lowered the wider end of the tie slightly, “and remember, the longer you make the wide end, the lower the tie will be when you finish.”

although, it was a lot lower than you thought it should be, “your goal is to line up your tie like this, if you remember this, it’ll save you a lot of time later on.” he explained.

“now,” tenya started, “cross the sides over, wide end over the the thinner one,” as he crossed your tie over, “and leave about this much on the narrow end, roughly 4 inches or 10 centimeters.” he answered before you could ask.

“with your left hand, take the wide end through the back opening, like this..” iida said, pulling the wide end of your tie through the opening of cross.

“then, take the wide end in your left hand, and wrap it around the back, like this…”

now this was the part when you began to space out…. i mean, you knew he was smart, but wow he was cute when he was explaining things…. he’s.. honestly cute period. how have you not noticed this before?

“and you tie this knot, aaand.. done.” iida smiled at his work, you didn’t look half-bad in a properly tied tie.

“u-uhmm.” you stammered. “thank you, tenya.”

he flushed, have you ever called him his first name before? “of course, y/n.”

maybe iida is nice in his own way after all.

a/n: i had to use my androgynous skills for the tie part 😎 but ANYWAYYY, i hope y’all enjoyed! i might????? make a part three but only if it’s highly requested bc i’ll prob do other characters/diff tenya fics, remember my reqs are always open! send as much as you want!!!

- omilee ✧˖°.

[ultralspblr]

LET THE MORNING DECIDE (PRT 2)

Modern AU: Sinners

Stack x OC x Smoke

Mature Audiences only (18+) // EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

Taglist

@softy212 @bxrbie1 @underated345-blog @queenofklonnie22

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Friday 8:20pm

After the mall run, Chelle and Lena swung by for snacks and drinks before locking in at Lena’s condo. For the past three hours, Chelle had been plucked, pinched, and waxed Lena to perfection. Lena wasn’t sure whether to thank her friend or call the cops.

Now all that was left was her hair. Chelle wanted layered curls. Lena wanted to keep her signature puff. They compromised on a side-part curly bun. The scent of hot grease filled the bathroom as Chelle pressed the back of Lena’s head.

“Tch…ouch” “Stop movin’!”

“So you can burn my scalp off???”

Lena whimpered

“Girl, ain’ burnin’ nothin’, that's just the grease gettin’ hot; besides I barely even touched your kitchen.”

“Tell that to my tears.”

Lena muttered.

Chelle pointed with the hotcomb in her hand.

“Head down!”

Lena rolled her eyes but obeyed. She'd been through a series of beauty torture today, and Chelle wasn’t letting up.

Megan Thee Stallion was playing in the background, and Lena knew Chelle couldn’t hold her focus whenever ‘Freak Nasty’ started playing.

“...I'm running through your nigga house like a Tomb Raider. You got a pass around nigga, he a hot potato…”

"So…what's the game plan?"

Lena hesitated.

"Umm..."

Chelle’s eyes widened.

"Don’t tell me you don’t have one."

"I was just gonna walk in and sit at my usual booth..."

"Now I know damn well, we ain't do all this preppin’ just for you to walk in, sit at the booth, and be ignored the whole night?"

Lena looked down.

"I might dance a little…”

“Lena. Stop actin like a virgin. You gonna need more than that to get those two ho’s attention.”

Lena chuckled.

What's so funny.

"I'm just remembering that time Stack and Smoke almost killed Jeremy for ghosting me after giving him my Vcard."

"Yooo! That was a day. Ain' neva seen a nigga holla that loud before."

Chelle giggled still focused on smoothing out Lena's hair.

That was a day.

It was the middle of Lena's sophomore year, and she'd been dating Jeremy, though back then he went by Rico, for a few months. She wouldn’t say she loved him, but she liked him.

With Thanksgiving around the corner and her mom heading out of town to volunteer at a nearby church’s food drive, Lena figured it was the perfect time to take her and Rico’s relationship to the next level.

Chelle, ever the ride-or-die, came over to help her prep, giving Lena the full rundown: expectations, what not to do, and tips on aftercare.

Lena had always imagined her first time would be special. Tender. Maybe even a little magical. That night, Rico came over disappointing her in less than five minutes. She wasn’t even sure she’d lost anything.

As quickly as he came, he'd left. The next morning, the only thing she had to remember him by was a single sent text: 'I think we should break up. It’s not you, it’s me.'

Heartbroken and embarrassed, Lena called Chelle over for some needed girl time. Chelle called over Smoke and Stack needing the help from reinforcements. They spent the whole day consoling Lena.

Smoke and Stack never took kindly to anyone who made Lena cry. Stack was especially pissed since Lena decided to use his Armani shirt as a tissue for the day. They had no choice but to pay their 'friend' Rico a visit.

A few days later, the entire campus saw Jeremy, in his whitest tidy, hanging upside down by his ankles. Smoke held one leg, Stack held the other, and poor Jeremy was left in the middle packnicking midair.

His pleas were muffled between half-hearted apologies and whole-hearted sobs to Lena. She eventually forgave him, and Smoke and Stack were permanently banned from her campus.

Lena blinked, pulled from memory by the gentle tug of her hair.

Finished!

“Oh!”

Lena looked at herself in the mirror of her marble white vanity. She looked like a doll. She’d gone with a soft glam look. Pink blush kissed her brown cheeks, glittering pink eye shadow smoldered into a warm brown that made her eyes seem deeper, richer. Her lips looked juicy and glossed with a clear glitter top and brown liner base.

All there was left was for Lena to change into the outfit Chelle bought.

She rose from the vanity and took the hanger from where Chelle had left it, stepping behind her Chinese divider.

There, Lena stared down at the barely-there outfit in her hands like it might vanish. It was sexy, strappy, rhinestoned, and made for a woman who knew how to wield attention, not the girl who blended into cubicle corners and thought a nude maxi was pushing the envelope.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid it on, tugging fabric across unfamiliar curves, re-learning herself in a silhouette she barely recognized. Her breath hitched. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or terror settling in her belly.

From the other side of the divider, Lena could hear Chelle tapping away on her phone.

“Girl, I don’t hear any stepping,”

Chelle called out without looking up.

“I better not have hyped you up all afternoon just for ya’ to turn tail and chicken out”

Lena stepped out slowly, unsure, letting the clicking of her silver heels speak before she did. Chelle finally looked up and broke into a wicked smile as she met Lena’s eyes through the vanity mirror.

“Bitch!”

Lena blushed and turned toward her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman looking back. The outfit was definitely a statement.

A single vertical rhinestone strand connected the halter neckline, trailing down the center of Lena’s chest.

Triangle cups of cascading gems framed her breasts, while fan-like strands fanned from her waist, creating a shimmering, skirt-like illusion that hugged her curves just right.

She turned to admire the open-back design, where a second ring at her lower back anchored more rhinestones that draped along her hips, kissing her skin like a whisper.

The side bun, loose and curly, gave a softness to her face, and the shimmer on her cheeks caught the light just right. She looked...feminine. Bold. She also looked scared.

Chelle picked up on it immediately. She stood up and came to lean on the vanity beside her, catching her gaze through the mirror.

“Okay, breathe. I know that look. That’s the same look you had right before walking down the steps at your debutante ball.”

Lena chuckled, cheeks going hot. “That was different.”

“No, it wasn’t. You were nervous then, too, but girl, you owned that ballroom. You remember? Head up, back straight. You made that white dress look like it was stitched by God himself.”

“That was years ago, Chelle.”

“Yeah, and? That girl ain’t gone, she’s just hiding under spreadsheets! And it's about damn time, she stop hidin’ ”

Lena grinned.

Chelle held Lena’s gaze firmly.

“I’m serious, Lena. You may not be used to all eyes on you, but they’ve been watchin’ for a long time. Stack and Smoke? They’ve been circlin’ you since sophomore year. You just never let yourself see it.”

Lena’s smile faded into something softer. She looked down.

Chelle nudged her chin up with a perfectly manicured finger.

“Look in that mirror and remember who you are. You’re not just walking into a club tonight. You’re walking into a room where the two men you've loved all ya life are already watchin’.”

Chelle paused, letting that land.

“Don’t flirt. Don’t chase. Let them come to you.”

Lena swallowed, her nerves beginning to settle into something else. Something bold.

“You hold the power. Let them sweat. Let them ache a little.”

Lena tilted her head, finally seeing herself again, not just in the rhinestones and curls, but in her own damn posture.

Chelle stepped back with a smirk.

“That’s my girl.”

Lena smiled at her reflection one last time, pulled her lip gloss from the vanity, and added one more swipe for drama.

Then, with a steadying breath and hips swaying with new intention, she reached for her purse.

"Go give Clarksdale a show.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday 9:17pm

The party had begun. The night air sat crisp and heavy, thick with cologne. The line to get into Sinners stretched for blocks with Clarksdale’s finest, and finest adjacent, all showing out. Fresh locs, tapered fades, low cuts, and clean beards. Polished dress shoes, dark denim, crisp polos, and ice cold enough to make you think it was winter. The men were lined up and hungry.

The women? Gliding through the door for free. Naturally. Lena made her way up from the parking lot, taking it all in.

“Must've been Stack's idea, because if it was left up to Smoke everybody would've paid at the door…twice”

As she walked, heads turned. Conversations paused. Eyes lingered. Men leaned off the wall like they'd auction off their grandma’s house just to know her name. The sidewalk might as well have been a runway, and with each step toward the entrance, Lena’s confidence swelled. It really was do or die, and she was going to live it up tonight.

She arrived just as the velvet rope parted for two women ahead of her. The bouncer stood towering and unmoved.

“NAME?”

Lena smiled sweetly, voice dipped in honey.

“Cornbread... you don’t recognize me?”

He squinted, did a double take, then stumbled backward, damn near knocked off balance.

“LENA!!!”

His whole face changed, in disbelief. Like he’d seen a ghost… or a goddess.

She tilted her head, lashes fluttering like Chelle taught her, fingers grazing his forearm with practiced ease.

“Yup! It’s me. You gon’ let me in?”

"Damn, girl.....I mean…yeah…Yeah…My bad! You just….Whew, I almost didn’t recognize you. Must be these damn fluorescent lights.”

Cornbread fumbled with the velvet rope, sweat blooming at his temple as he tried not to stare, but failed. Lena let him have his moment. He was married, after all, and she knew where the line was. Still, it was cute watching him squirm.

“Must be!”

Lena giggled, as she glided past him. That was just the teaser, the real games were just about to begin.

Friday 9:23pm

The moment Lena crossed the threshold, the bass of ‘Birthday’ by 2Chains, wrapped around her ribs like a second skin.

“...If I die bury me inside that Louis store

They ask me what I do and who I do it for (yeah)

And how I come up with this shit up in the studio (yeah)

All I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe (true)..."

Of course Stack had requested this song. Lena smirked to herself.

Red fluorescent lights lined the corridor, catching the curve of her dress…every shadow…every shape.

Her pace was deliberate…almost lethal. Heels clicked to the beat of the song, and easily found their rhythm to the dj's overlayed mix of 'Feds Watching'. Lena definitely felt herself, and everybody took notice.

She didn’t look up. That would’ve been too easy. But she felt Smoke watching from the rafters. He’d clocked her the second she stepped in, her silhouette slicing through the crowd like a goddess walking among mortals.

She let her hand skim the rhinestones of her dress, just a little show before she glanced up, catching Smoke’s eyes from across the club. She saw the want in his eyes…devouring. But as much as he drank her in, she was sipping, too.

Her heart thumped like it wanted to give her away.

Smoke looked unfairly good: navy suit, sharp cut, black fitted tee underneath. A watch and silver chain caught the light like they had something to say. But Lena had a plan, and she intended to stick to it.

As Lena passed Stack, drink in hand, her composure nearly slipped. He’d clocked her too, same moment, same intensity. As per usual, he sat like a king surrounded by an entourage of women, all varying in shade and size.

A deep V polo hugged his chest, biceps taut beneath the sleeves. Gold chains stacked at his neck. A monogrammed knuckle ring glinted under the lights. And that signature gold-capped tooth sparkled when he grinned.

"Aye Lena!"

He called over.

She glanced his way, just briefly. Then clocked the butter pecan girl, pressed up against him. Her auburn curls caressed her cheeks, and her hazel eyes were sharp with warning.

Lena smirked. Not at him. At her.

She trailed a finger along the back of Stack’s neck as she passed. A spark. A tease. A ripple moved through the room.

Stack froze. A flicker in his smile. A beat missed in his laugh. Even Ms. Butter Pecan noticed. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His eyes followed her all the way to her booth.

Lena slid into her corner like it had been waiting for her. Red velvet. Dim lights. Drink in hand, leg crossed, chin up. She was seated, but somehow above everyone else.

---------------------

Up in the rafters, Smoke hadn’t moved. Drink untouched. One arm along the back of the couch, the other on his thigh composed, casual, calculating.

That moment of eye contact had stirred something, that he had laid dormant for years around Lena. But if she kept looking at him like that, it would soon unravel.

“What the hell was that!”

Smoke thought to himself.

She knew he saw her. She wanted him to. Now she sat there, fully in his line of sight, refusing to look again. And he wanted her to.

Friday 10:12pm

Lena settled in the booth enjoying the vibes. Laughter rolled through the club, glasses clinked, but where she sat, there was stillness. A quiet kind of gravity that pulled attention toward her without effort. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t scan the room. She simply existed exquisitely. And they noticed.

Below, Stack finally stirred. Head tilted. Tongue against his teeth. A slow laugh rumbled, like he’d just remembered a secret.

A new brunette haired girl with porcelain skin leaned in front of him whispering something. He smiled on instinct…still charming, but his attention kept drifting sideways.

Conversation around him floated by. He missed it. He smiled late. Laughed late. Agreed to stories he hadn’t heard. Women came and went, but he didn’t notice. Or maybe he didn’t care.

He rolled his neck, adjusted his watch, and called for another bottle he didn’t need. And when the music shifted, bass mellowing for a moment, spotlight briefly sweeping across the floor, he let his gaze land on her corner booth again.

There she was, already watching. A mere blink of her gaze, gave him ideas that he always played around with but never pursued.

His eyes traced her face. The way she sipped her drink, lip gloss staining the glass, blush warming her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He was mesmerized.

And just as easily, she looked away. Spell broken.

And it stung.

“What the hell was that?”

------------------

Above, Smoke was less obvious, but Lena could feel the weight of his want simmering in the air. His attention shifted. She knew she had him hooked.

He stood now, tall, still, eyes locked on her, and hands gripping the banister. Eyes locked on her every stretch, every tilt, every sip. He always knew Lena had a nice body, and that barely there dress definitely did her service.

He exhaled a puff of his cigar just once, through his nose. Hoping it would cloud his vision of her.

She simply smiled, sipped her drink, and tilted her chin back down as the beat dropped, head gently swaying to the rhythm, letting the music lick at her skin like the idea of a touch neither man had earned.

Friday 10:27pm

Maybe it was the drinks. The dress. Or this newfound power thrumming in her chest. But Lena was done waiting.

She could feel both of them unraveling. And she hadn’t even done much. But now, it was time to make one of them break.

They were different in rhythm, in approach, but one thing tied them together: They were both prideful as hell. Stubborn. Competitive.

A warm feeling began to settle in her stomach as an emerging idea came to mind. She was done waiting.

One of them was going to break, and she knew just what to do to ensure so. Just as the thought flashed, the dj changed the song to Destin Conrad’s 'Bad Bitches', inviting her to the dance floor.

Then the beat dropped. The floor called to her. The melody curled around her like an invitation written in silk. She stood, and the room shifted.

“...I been in and out your city for a week, baby

Overwhelmed or over attached, you're a genius

Every day, yeah, we live, it's new under the sun, baby I'm crashin' out,

I've been going in this whole week…”

Her body moved first. Smooth. Intentional.

Not rushed, not exaggerated. She didn’t dance like she needed to be seen. She danced like she was remembering something or being remembered.

“...Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, B

Don't know why you keep teasin' me like that

I know you na-a-a-a-a-a-asty

Finna pull up to the club with some bad bitches…”

Every sway of her hips, every roll of her shoulders, was like water finding its rhythm again. Hands grazing her waist, neck tilting to the side as if brushing off the weight of every stare.

She danced alone but she was far from lonely, because she knew they were both watching.

Friday 10:48pm

Stack's smile had died. Now he sat upright, elbows resting on spread knees, drink forgotten in his hand. He watched her like a man who just realized he wasn’t running the game anymore. The pull Lena had on him was magnetic, and he was ready and willing to be pulled into her orbit.

Stack chuckled to himself, eyes still transfixed on the slow movements Lena’s hips were making, almost as if they were inviting him over.

“This ain't like Lena, but I sure as hell ain't complaining.”

The fingers at his knee twitched. He didn’t move. But the calculation behind his eyes sharpened. And the blood moving to the growing bulge didn't help either.

Smoke hadn’t moved from the banister. But now his grip on the railing was tighter. His jaw clenched once, a silent click of tension. He watched not just her movements, but the way other men had begun to fall into her orbit. She was the sun, glowing, and full of life. Even the club lights seemed to curve with her.

Smoke spotted his twin below doing the same thing he was doing. And as if they had telepathy, Stack looked at Smoke speaking without words, just a shared confusion.

“Nigga, do you see this?! What the hell is going on with Lena?”

“Ion know, but I ain't complaining!”

“Aye! Watch this…”

As Lena swayed into that next roll of her hips, body catching the drop of the beat of Mariah Carey's x Kaytranada remix of 'Don’t forget about us', there he was to catch her rhythm.

“...Just let it die with no goodbyes

Details don't matter, we both paid the price

Tears in my eyes

You know sometimes it'd be like that, baby…”

Stack slid onto the floor confident, warm, and dangerous. He smelled amazing, wearing his signature scent: sensual, warm, luxurious "Maison Margiela - Replica Jazz Club”. She loved that scent….his scent.

Lena felt his presence before she saw him. The heat of his body behind her, close but not touching. He stayed behind her. Not pressed against her, not bold enough for that yet. But close. Close enough to feel the heat roll off her slow.

She moved to the music, waist whining as if it weren’t just dancing, but speaking. Stack tried to match her rhythm, but failed at every attempt. He was usually so light on his feet, but Lena was the one who took the lead. She’d grind into him one second, and spin away the next, laughing, twirling, dragging the hem of the night behind her.

He reached for her waist once, lightly, and Lena allowed it… for no more than mere seconds. Then pulled away. Eyes gleaming, sweat glistening at her brow, lips parted.

Stack bit his lip, then spoke.

“Lena, what's gotten into you?"

Lena curled a smile. Eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I'm just dancing.”

“Nah…You’re doin’ something else……something dangerous.”

“Like what?”

“Like playin’ with fire!”

Lena twirled one more time, this time towards Stack, with just an inch of space between them.

“Well, maybe I want to get burned”

“…(Oh) There's only one me and you

(Oh) And how we used to shine (We used to shine)

No matter who you go through

We are one, that's a fact that you can't deny

So, baby, we just can't let the fire pass us by

Forever we'd both regret

So don't forget about us…”

The crowd swelled. Lena's fingertips trailed Stack’s chest as if tracing a memory. His pulse jumped as her hand slid gently behind his neck, closing the gap between their bodies. As Stack reached to embrace her, she quickly slipped away just as fast. He didn’t say much as Lena walked off the dance floor, but the look in his eyes said everything.

Friday 11:01pm

Lena returned to her booth glowing, sliding back into her seat someone had been waiting for her.

“You enjoyed the show?”

Lena gleamed.

Smoke sat there, arms stretched across the booth, taking her all in. His gaze weighed on her pound for pound. But Lena didn't break, in fact she sat bolder, straighter, more confident than she'd ever been. She smiled, faintly as she lifted her glass to her lips, and he soaked her in.

“I forgot how good of a dancer you were!”

“Well, it has been a while since I've stepped in the club, let alone the dance floor.”

Lena slid closer. Their legs aligned. One hand skimmed the rim of her glass. The other rested on his thigh. The distance between them: Non-existent. Smoke's body was warm, and still, and Lena was intoxicated from the scent of his cologne.

“Le Labo – Thé Noir 29. Stack probably picked it out for him, but it suited Smoke. Quiet, Strong, and Sensual."

Smoke breathed out a slight chuckle.

Lena's brow raised

“What's so funny?”

“Wouldn't you like to know!”

Lena leaned into him. Her breast now pressed against him. She rose slightly to whisper in his ear.

“I love a good laugh.”

Smoke turned to face Lena, a slight grin slowly rising. The moment stretched between them, heavy with implication.

Smoke turned, mouth curling. Then he stood, and Lena followed. They slipped through a side door into a narrow corridor behind the club's main floor, walls soaked in red light, muffled bass thrumming through the floor.

At the end of the hallway was a private lounge. Velvet couches. Closed curtains. Dim lighting that seemed to buzz with anticipation.

She stepped in first, shoulders loose, mouth curved in something between surprise and satisfaction.

She turned to face him, ready to let the night deepen.

But then Lena heard a familiar voice.

“You sho nuff took your time.”

Lena turned toward the sound with practiced ease, catching the outline of Stack lounging like a king cast in shadow, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting at the arm of the chair.

The moment Lena saw Stack in the corner, already waiting, she knew, they’d planned this. Two wolves in one room. Not circling her. Caging her.

Stack spoke first, voice smooth but edged.

“We’ve been watchin’ya”

Lena's brows lifted slightly. A soft smile played at her lips.

“That sounds creepy.”

Smoke stepped closer inside the room.

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

Lena looked between them, amused.

“Oh? You mean I’m not acting like the version of me you both prefer?”

Stack leaned forward.

“Nah. You playin’ dangerous. Flirtin’, dancing, touchin’ on us. I mean I personally ain’ mind.”

“But that’s not you Lena. So what's goin’ on!”

Lena let the silence stretch. Their attempt to corner her didn’t frighten her or surprise her by any means, if anything she felt offended.

Here they were trying to push her back over the line she'd been teetering on all night, and she refused to cross back over. Fuck the line, she was here now, and there was no turning back.

Lena laughed as she stood in the middle of the room, with both twins slowly caging her from the sides.

“You two are adorable! Y'all bring me into a dark room like you’re staging an intervention. But y'all didn’t trap me. I walked in."

She smiled.

“Let’s play a game.”

Stack squinted.

“A game? Lena we're past playin’ all these damn games! ”

Lena batted her eyes to Stack.

"Come on! It's y'all birthday, why not play the game like we did when we were growing up. You know: Truth, Dare, & Simon Says"

“And what’s the point?”

Lena smiled slyly, facing Smoke.

“To get answers. Just like you wanted. But you’ll only get them if ya’ play.”

“Aight! I’m in.”

Smoke hesitated.

“Fine! You start.”

Lena stepped closer. Poured herself a drink.

“Simon says... sit down.”

And before she blinked, both twins sat down.

“Good boys.”

She sat across from them. Lifted her glass.

“Let’s begin.”

[jules2kewl]

A different path.

COWBOY SEVIKA AU.

Tags: sevika works in a ranch, reader is married, artist reader, sevika and reader are neighbors, eventual smut, sevika cowboy au, chubby reader, sevika x female reader.

Word count: 9k but it lowkey feels less.

Part: 1/?

Note: I put a lot of effort into this lwkkk. I really hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Growing up, you were convinced that art was your future. It was what you were born to do. To create. To show your passion to the world.

Here you are, in a beat up pick up truck, with your now husband.

—

Flashback.

You met him in college. He was a frat boy.

“So.. what’s your major?”

You ask, smiling while tracing the rim of the red cup.

“Uhhh.. don’t remember. I’m not really here for like.. the education. Kinda here for the experience you know? This is the fucking life.”

Maybe there, you should ended it. You should’ve dodged the bullet. But you after a couple social pressure from the people around you, and other students degrading your major, here you are. Married away to a southern boy. On your way to the south. You grew up in a sort of suburb city place. It was in between the south and north, so you somewhat understood some culture.

But forgetting your dreams were extremely hard. But hey, you chose this life. No point in complaining.

—

“Whyd you want to bring all these dumbass paintings? They take up half the fucking space.”

He tosses the canvases to the ground, you wince and rush to them.

“They’re special to me,”

You mutter. As if you were embarrassed to say so.

You both unpack, the place was.. okay. It was spacious, and vintage looking. But not exactly the pretty type. Just old. You both moved down here because he took the offer of working with his other family in the ranch. Apparently they were all red necks, which made you.. scared.

“We’re gonna go down to my grandmas place. Dress nice.”

He says, plainly. You go to your luggage and take out your favorite outfit. You wore it throughout college. Fun.

“Hell are ye wearin’?”

He scoffed.

“Clothes,”

You tease, smiling. Except he didn’t smile. Just looking up and down, judging. Quickly erasing your smile.

“Go wear a dress or somethin’,”

He pauses.

“Look pretty for me.”

You listen. You obey. Changing into a dress. You hated how it looked, you looked like a house wife. And slowly, you’d probably become one.

When you meet his other family, they give snarky comments.

“You majored in art?”

The two girls look at eachother, smiling. Trying to hold back giggles.

“No! We think it’s like— cute. Atleast you chose a better path in the end.”

Bye the end of it, you wanted to cry. But ..

“What’s for dinner, hm?”

He clings onto you from behind, as you try to finish unpacking clothes.

“Dinner? We haven’t even filled up the fridge,”

You frown slightly. He groans.

“Seriously? What’re we gonna eat?”

He complains, pulling away.

“I don’t know.. order something or whatever.”

Pause.

He laughs loudly.

“Oh okay, I’ll just ORDER something in the middle of no where. I seriously forget yer fuckin’ spoiled.”

He pinched your ass and laughs again.

“Make something, I’ll be back. Headin’ down to meet some old friends.”

He gives it a slap and leaves. You stare out the window. You weren’t the best at cooking. Maybe you were spoiled. So you should get to work.

2 weeks later. You start getting better.. at whatever this was.

Packing his food, making the bed, cleaning the house, planning dinner and.. doing nothing, all at once.

When you finish, you stare out the window. Why did you pick this? No, it’s okay. You had to settle down. Art wasn’t going to take you anywhere. It was stupid. You chose this. Live with it.

You convinced yourself.

Flashback.

You both lay on a roof, he smokes while you ramble on about a book you read for art literature. You had to write an essay about it.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

He lifts the cigar from his lips.

“Yeah?” You say eagerly, expecting it to be about the book.

“Why do girls think.. they can do something? Like, chose an art major. It’s kinda stupid,”

He laughs hoarsely.

“It’s not really gonna get you somewhere. I have a little sister, she did art. Now shes a waitress,”

You go quiet.

That week, you kept thinking. Everyone told you that. Even some of your other college friends. Was it worth it? It was so expensive, and burdening your mom…

This was the right choice. He’ll keep you under a roof. Protect you. Provide for you. It’s okay.

You see a red pick up truck pass your house, and you see it drive to your neighbors house. You didn’t realize you even had one. You stand up eagerly, but anxiety creeps up on you.

What, were you going to go introduce yourself or something? That’s stupid. Only a thing movie people do.. but you haven’t talked to someone since you moved here.. maybe it’d be nice if—

Your thoughts are cut short when you see them.

Tall, strong frame, short hair. You see their back. Is that a girl? You try moving to see them better. It was a girl!

You squeal, then clap your hand to your mouth. Why’d you do that? Whatever! It’s a girl! She could be your friend.

Later. You cute a slice from your lasagna. Lasagna was your comfort food. So you made it. You start worrying if it was good enough to offer it to people. Whatever, go and do it.

You walk down to her house. Standing there and taking deep breaths, before knocking.

You wait, sweat staring to bead on your forehead.

After a hot minute, you wonder if she didn’t want to answer. You decide to leave the plate, before she opens.

“Hello?”

She’s bigger than from afar. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Shit, what do you say now?

“Uh— hhh…”

You try finding it.

“Hi. I’m.. your new neighbor.”

You put your hand out after saying your name. Mentally slapping the shit out of yourself. She probably wants to be left alone. This was stupid. Do people in the south even say hi to neighbors? God!

She smiles.

“Why hello. It’s sevika. You moved in with your husband eh?”

She tilts her head. Shaking your hand. Her hand was heavy and rough. It scared you a little.

“Uhm, yeah. That’s right.”

“You wanna come in?”

You smile, but try not to smile too hard.

“If that’s not a bother,”

“Oh no, never. Come on in.”

You go in, looking around. Leather couches, small little paintings, wooden carvings and taxidermy’s everywhere. This was so fucking southern. You loved it.

“It’s nice in here.”

You smile. Feeling relived to finally talk to someone.

“Thanks sweetie. Take a seat. You want somethin’? Water, tea, maybe a beer?”

She smiles. You see her tooth gap. How adorable!

“I’m okay, but thank you.”

You smile. It reeked like cigarettes and something else strong. It hurt your head, but it shouldn’t matter.

“Why’d you move down here? You don’t look like the rest of us.”

You tilt your head.

“What do you mean?”

She leans against her counter, picking up her cigarette from the tray.

“Look at the way you’re dressed.”

You look down. You just wore a t shirt and random shorts. You didn’t see anything wrong. Then you see one of your tattoos, your expressive jewelry and your shoes. Well, maybe something gave it out? You’re not sure.

“Uhm, my husband and me moved down here.”

She takes a hit and blows out through her nostrils.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You pause.

“For his work. He works at the ranch.”

She looks at you.

“You mean the frat kid?”

You perk up. Frat? How did she know he was a frat boy?

“How did—“

“He acts like one. I just guessed. Always wanting to invite everyone for a drink after work. Doesn’t take it seriously,”

She puts the cigar down.

“So you work there?”

She nods.

“That would’ve surprised him,”

You smile. But she doesn’t. Giving you a slight judging look. You get hot and your smile goes away. Did she not like you?

“It did. He didn’t expect a woman to work there. But here I am.”

You tap your knee nervously. Not knowing what to say.

“What did you do? Before you became his house wife.”

“Oh no— I’m not his house wife.”

You smile and laugh.

“Really? You don’t leave the house do you?”

Your smile fades again. Did she hate you or something?

“I do.”

You lie. She chuckles.

“Yeah? When?”

You start thinking of a lie, but she chuckles again.

“It’s alright sweetie, I’m just askin’. Don’t worry your little head about it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t think you were holding in.

“I did art. Painted, wrote, all of that.. stuff.”

You start reminiscing. All the beautiful art work you did. Now hidden in the dusty attic.

“Did? You stopped?”

She picks up her cigar, tapping the ash off.

You shrug.

“Is that a yes or no?”

You look up at her.

“I guess I stopped. I don’t have the material anymore.”

There’s a long pause. It feels awkward, for you atleast. She didn’t seem bothered by it.

The lasagna in your lap felt stupid.

“What’s that?”

She points at it.

“Lasagna. I kinda brought it for you but..”

“But what?”

She smiles.

“I don’t think you want it.”

“What? Hey. Give it to me. I could never give up free food.”

You stand up and pass her the plate.

“I’ll eat it later.”

Pause. Again.

You look out the window.

“Uhm, thanks.”

She chuckles.

“For what?”

“Talking to me? Inviting me in.. thanks. I’m going to head home. Maybe I can talk to you another day?”

She nods.

You walk home. It felt good to talk to someone, although it felt like she judged you most of the time. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe you two could become close.

Thanks for reading luv. 💋

[andcars]

FISHING CATS ━━ CS55

﹙ 55 ﹚ ─────── loved you before seeing you

you're a regular catfisher on bumble before you met your match, carlos sainz. it goes bad when you start to get attached to him

relationship(s) carlos sainz/you tags dating apps, light angst, anti-ferrari propaganda, pro-williams propaganda wc 2k texting & prose

MASTERLIST ⠀REQUEST ME ⠀ TAGLIST⠀ PATREON GUIDE

radio "comments and reblogs are much appreciated!" i asked my friend to give me a prompt and they gave me "catfishing each other as discord e-kittens". he doesn't even know where that idea came from but that was so fucking funny. unfortunately, i did not make it discord because i cannot for the life of me imagine carlos on discord. while i was trynna find some formatting inspo for this, i found a very similar fic like this!! it inspired me at the very end so go read it :) we love a tsunoda fic

▶︎ ❝ idea 10 ❞ gibran alcocer

Bumble 15m ago 🐝 You have 1 new match 🙌

ON YOUR SCREEN WAS NONE OTHER THAN CARLOS SAINZ. You snicker. You scroll through his profile quickly: "Taking things slow", 5'10", 🏃‍♂️ Active, 🔍 Relationship, 🚗 Cars, etc. Most of the pictures used were photos you've seen for sure posted around social media. There's nothing more obviously a catfish than this account. Nothing about it was smart, unlike yours. Yours was perfectly crafted for a believable yet still jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman. It's carefully crafted with one face of your most beautiful friend—who is never on social media to ever know—and random photos of her from the back. Your catfish was perfect, his wasn't. Still, it's pretty funny.

[ You ] Heyy. Aren't you that F1 racer?

[ CS ] Hey. Yeah, I am.

[ You ] That's so cool :) What brings you over here then?

[ CS ] I lost a bet with my old teammate and now I'm here

[ You ] XD That's funny

[ CS ] How about you? You look very beautiful

[ You ] Awww. You're so sweet, Carlos

[ CS ] I'm telling the truth. You're also the first to message me back

[ You ] What!? You're so handsome, anyone would message you

[ CS ] They think I'm not real

[ You ] Aw, that sucks. Well, I like to shoot my shot so, LOL

[ CS ] Where do you live? Your country

[ You ] I'm currently staying in the UK with my friends Don't you have a race here next month?

[ CS ] Yeah. Are you a fan?

[ You ] Not really. I know you by face though. I have friends who are a fan of you

[ CS ] Shame. I would have boasted to have such a pretty fan.

[ You ] I can be something better than a fan though

[ CS ] What?

[ You ] ... A friend

— You snort, displacing your phone to check if your noodles finished heating up

[ CS ] That's sweet I don't often do dating apps It's because I'm always away so often. It makes it hard to date But Lando told me this could just be a fresh change I see that you're busy. Hope we talk again tomorrow.

THE LAST GUY YOU MESSAGED QUICKLY BLOCKED YOU AFTER YOU SHOWED HIM A PICTURE OF YOUR SPHYNX CAT. Maybe it doesn't take a genius to know that the cat and the Rick Astley playing in the background meant that they got catfished. It took a lot of men longer time to understand the situation. Your 'victims' were never really nice people. You're too kind for that. The ones who are often in your DMs are 'looking for something casual' or something similar. 'Carlos' was the only different one. You're not sure why he's taking his time before he asks for money or boast about his achievements in life. Sooner or later, he's going to ask to call and you're going to show him something stupid. It's hypocritical to hate a catfisher when you yourself are one, but you're kind of like Batman. You are the night.

[ You ] Morning, Carlos!

[ CS ] It's a bit too late for morning, right? Attatched image

[ You ] Wow, I thought you weren't one to take gym selfies?

[ CS ] I thought you weren't a fan?

[ You ] I have ears whenever my friends talk about you

[ CS ] I'm starting to think your friends aren't real

[ You ] They are! I'm not into watching cars loop in weird shapes

[ CS ] Most non-fans would call the tracks circles

[ You ] Guess I'm not like most fans, huh?

[ CS ] You aren't

[ You ] I'm also at the gym right now Attatched image

[ CS ] Nice bottle

[ You ] Thanks :) I love cats

[ CS ] I've seen more dogs than cats in my life

[ You ] I'll send you pics of my cat soon enough ;)

[ CS ] What kind?

[ You ] However you want

[ CS ] ?

[ You ] What?

[ CS ] Are you saying you'll buy a specific cat for me?

— Alright, well. Maybe he missed that sexual innuendo

[ You ] Haha. Sorry. I think we got lost in translation there I have a pretty sphynx. Interested?

[ CS ] Those are the bald ones, right?

[ You ] Yup

[ CS ] They're very unique cats. They're also very funny looking which I like

— You make a note to not show Luna when you reveal yourself to him

[ You ] I like their baldness too

[ CS ] I have to go again. My trainer is telling me to get off my phone

[ You ] Haha. See you, Carlos

YOU SEE AN AD OF CARLOS SAINZ WALKING HOME. You have a subway in your hands and your hoodie pulled up. He looks good. The L'Oreal brand definitely looks good on him. You almost feel bad to the Carlos you've been talking to. He seems to be adamant in having a decent conversation with you. Across the day, he asks idly what you're doing. Sometimes the conversations fall short but at night he texts you endlessly. The timezone makes it odd, he told you. Other than the fact he's not Carlos Sainz and you're definitely not a blonde supermodel, it's nice conversations. It almost feels cruel to continue to talk to him

[ You ] What did you like about me?

[ CS ] Very forward question.

[ You ] I'm just curious. What made you like me? Maybe I just wanna know how pretty I am to other people

[ CS ] Fishing for compliments then? That's not why you caught my eye, though

[ You ] You're just saying that

[ CS ] You said that your favourite song was Idea 10 by Gibran Alcocer I had to google him and find out he makes piano music like Charles Then you say you like to take life as slow as possible to feel it more Your perfect first date is a classic dinner with the bill split I just liked you

IT'S BEEN A DAY SINCE YOU LAST TALKED TO HIM. You haven't messaged him back since his... confession. Between liking you because you were hot or liking you because you're you, you aren't sure which one hurts most. Maybe this was the guy's play: get women to fall in love with him, ask for pussy pics a month in. It would most likely get women to be more willing, you think. Still, it doesn't make the feeling wash away easier. Sunday comes around and you watch from your TV as Carlos Sainz doesn't even get out of the pit-lane. You're surprised that Bumble Carlos messaged you shortly after.

[ CS ] I don't know if I scared you off or what, but I had a really bad race Did your friend tell you?

[ You ] I watched the race

[ CS ] It wasn't my fault. It was the car. Both me and Alex didn't have a chance to race

[ You ] I know

[ CS ] Sometimes I think what would it be like if I was still in Ferrari Would I place P4 today or lower? I tell everyone that I'm happy I dropped them. It's true That doesn't make the fact that Williams have problems I can't solve

— Maybe because you hear Carlos' voice when you read his texts, you feel bad

[ You ] Do you regret it? Joining Williams?

[ CS ] No. The people here are nicer and they listen to me. They listen to us

[ You ] Then shouldn't that be worth fighting for? The SF-25 has its ups and downs too. The radio sounded bad on Lewis' end If you were still in Ferrari you won't appreciate the joy of just getting points Williams celebrate you for just finishing the race I think it's because they're just happy to know you're racing for them

[ CS ] Not a fan, huh?

[ You ] Oh, stop it. I was trying to comfort you

[ CS ] There's things I know already but sometimes I forget I needed that reminder

[ You ] You're welcome. Whatever happens on the weekend, Williams has your back

[ CS ] Do I have your support too? Even if you're not a fan?

[ You ] I'll think about it

IN THE MORNING, YOU GET HIS PHONE NUMBER. He apparently landed in London three hours before you woke up. This is usually the time they call you and then ask to see your face to jerk off. Carlos tells you that he feels perverted texting on a dating app. It's ironic. The first day of the week, he constantly texted you. It's about normal things; barely about the actual weekend. The London weather, the food he's eating, how both of you want to get out of your jobs just to go out and see the sun—if you could even see it in this weather. You even try to pry his private instagram off him but he says there's too many embarassing pictures. He says when you meet in person, he'll show you; meaning, you won't be able to take screenshots. He said when. Not if, when.

[ CS ] Do you wanna come to Silverstone?

[ You ] Why? Sending me a ticket?

[ CS ] If you want. I'm allowed to send garage passes to friends

[ You ] I heard that the view from the garage isn't that great Can barely watch the race in there

[ CS ] It's not that bad. I'll be there

[ You ] I'd rather not see you in the actual garage during races I wanna see you in the car

[ CS ] Haha. Think about it

[ You ] I joined a giveaway anyways a few months ago. I don't think I won it

[ CS ] Really?

[ You ] They haven't given me an e-mail. It's fine, I can watch at home Image attatched

[ CS ] Cute. Where did you buy that?

[ You ] On Etsy. There's a lot of merch for Carlos Sainz lol

[ CS ] Do you have those bracelets too?

[ You ] Yeah. I made some. I put SainzSlut on one of them

[ CS ] You have to show that to me in the garage

[ You ] Lol. Yeah, sure I will

[ CS ] What episode are you on on 911?

ON TUESDAY, YOU GOT A TICKET AND FULL ACCOMMODATION FOR YOUR STAY NEAR THE TRACK. You don't tell it to 'Carlos', he doesn't talk about it either. That doesn't surprise you. You won the giveaway last minute and 'Carlos' doesn't know that. You take a quiet sick leave when you coughed all over the place and they forced you to go home. You rushed over to the assigned hotel and wait for the weekend to come. For the first few hours arriving on the track, you were so surprised that you forgot to text your 'Carlos' about it. When you see the Williams hospitality, you remember him.

[ You ] Hey, Carlos?

[ CS ] Yeah?

[ You ] Are you gonna meet me or what? Attatched image

You put your phone away and breathe the fresh air of the real Carlos Sainz. Bumble Carlos was nice, you feel bad for him every second the longer you don't reveal your face. Before you can take a step inside, your phone rings. It's Carlos. If he wants to jerk off before you block him, well, I guess he picked the right opportunity. You looked pretty good today.

Opening the call with your front camera, you laugh, "You finally dropping the act?"

"Hm? I'm behind you."

Carlos Sainz stands behind you with a bright smile on his face. You're glued to the pavement as he walks over, embracing you. He's warm. He's so fucking real. Your mind runs in different moments of your chatting and you realize that you have just been talking to Carlos Sainz. No one believed him because everyone thought he was faking it—you did too except, you gave him a chance because it was funny.

Something else didn't make sense. You pull away, looking up at him in confusion. "Why am I the only one confused?" you point, "I'm... I'm surprised I've been talking to—well, you. But you're..?"

He laughs like there's something funny about this. Pulling out his phone, he takes half a moment to search something on it. When he shows it to you, it's the picture of Luna on your stomach. He says, quite plainly, "Your mirror was right there on the floor."

Shit. The crisis is lost on Carlos as he leads you inside the hospitality with a hand on your back. "I'm really hurt you think I was faking it," he says, sounding not hurt at all. "I even saved you a very nice spot in my driver's room. There's a TV there you can watch the race very comfortably. If you still don't want to watch the race in the garage, of course."

Well, you're here anyways. You're here with Carlos on your shoulder and treating you normally. There's no going back to this madness now. "I need to make sure I'm there when I watch you get the podium," you tell him. "Plus, I wanna see you put on the SainzSlut bracelet in front of James Vowles." Carlos laughs and does just that when Sunday comes around. You think you're just quite like Williams, just happy to be here with Carlos next to you.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @yourmommyagone22 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144 @rere10

[mekaylarose11]

Random Scenario of Huntrix & Saja Boys

A scenario where a reality tv show or something like that where it stars Huntrix & Saja boys for a challenge as it would be like an eating competition or anything related to food of where the groups have to finished the whole table of food that could feed a whole family.

(Like the one below but way more that fills the whole table)

As the Saja Boys would start eating their food as Huntrix would stare at the whole table filled with food as all three members, Rumi, Mira & Zoey haven’t eaten much busying themselves to the point where now looking at the food they tried control their urges of just scarfing it down like a beggar who hasn’t eaten food for like a whole month. So, being professional but still slightly a bit feral, all three would take a deep breath before they started to go full blown on just eating every food each on the table as they ate in a fast but normal pace eating all with ease as they would still try to look professional but still letting themselves go just go on a whole speed run of finishing the food at record time as the Saja Boys would look at them before being baffled and surprised as how slightly feral Huntrix were eating their food so quickly.

(I just imagine like the reaction of all five members of Saja Boys would be like Jinu expression surprised and eyes widened while holding his food, Abby holding his utensils that held his food not moving just staring at the girls, Romance would drop his utensils and be like a victorian woman clutching his pearls as Baby is similar dropping his utensils, eyes blown wide with mouth agape as for mystery, he silently stare at the girls as he would look back at his food before slowly taking a bite)

Some time Later, Huntrix would finished their food from the whole table while The Saja Boys only ate like maybe half or like a thrid?

(I thought it was funny since like in the beginning of the movie, we see Rumi, Mira and Zoey eating like a lot of snacks and not caring and another where when after the concert of “How’s It Done” we see Mira and Zoey carrying like a whole bunch of foods so like in my Headcannon personally, I just think like Huntrix are a bit gluttonous as it’s fine since they like dance and sing and also demon hunting so like they lose a lot of calories and needed to eat so I just thought this will be funny)

(Also can someone make this into like a whole scenario paragraph cause I would be very happy if I read it)

[foryoufics]

Slow Ch 1

Summary: You've been with Hoseok for ten years, ten long, agonizingly slow, years; six of which he's been unfaithful and engaged to you, five of those married, behind your back. Any time Yoongi spends with you he wants one thing, for it to just go, slow. It isn't like he hasn't wanted to steal you before but you've turned down every man who has tried. When he finds out about Hoseok's secret family he realizes that he has to be quick

Warnings: angst, cheating, cursing, adult themes (sexual)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader, ultimate Yoongi x Reader

“I think I should go,” Yoongi hated those words, absolutely despised them, but, he noticed your hand on Hoseok 's leg, rubbing his knee and wandering higher. He wouldn't mind watching, but, you all had finished the amazing dinner you made a while ago and had just been sitting and chatting, and he understood that you hadn't seen Hobi in a while and had to have missed him. That you had to have missed Hobi the same way he missed you, even though only he knew that. He chuckles and stands, pushing his hands off of his knees. “I think it's time I went home and got some rest, see you guys later,” he smiles, “dinner was amazing YN,” he leans down to kiss the top of your hair, “I love when you make your food from home,” he adds. 

“Thanks Yoongs, ‘Night, sleep well,” you tell him and let his hand go.

“Is it cool if I go use the bathroom first?” 

“Yes, you don't have to ask. I'll just head into the room,” you get up and walk into yours and Hobi’s room.

“Go take care of her,” Yoongi chuckles and pats his friend’s shoulder as he passes.

Yoongi felt his fist forming as he brings it up to bite it, thinking Come on Hobi, not like last time. 

“I've really missed you~,” he hears your sultry voice as he passes the room, there's the smallest gap of the door open, maybe you thought he had left. He shouldn't stop and listen, but, he can't help it, he had heard conversations like this before and never liked how they played out. He has to stick around to see if this time is different. He shouldn't look, but, from his peripheral vision he can see through the small open space that you're on your knees. He can piece together between Hoseok’s legs. “I missed you so much~, I want to show you how much I've missed you~, please~?” 

“I missed you too,” he can hear him respond, dry and flat, then he hears the shuffling of the bed, he was crawling to lay down. Yoongi leaves before he can storm into the room.

On his way home all he can think about is that he and Hobi had just been away touring for months, he didn't understand how anyone could turn you down just now, at any time, but, especially being away for so long. He almost didn't make it, you weren't even his and he missed everything about you. He missed your smile, your eyes, your laugh, he missed how you smelled especially your hair, everything. Had you been his and he were in that room just now, oh the things he would do. He didn't get it, since you and Hoseok had gotten engaged, he noticed that there had been no affection from his friend towards you and having overheard several occasions like the one that just happened he doubted any intimacy. He never even noticed Hoseok making any wedding plans, he has seen you ask and try and Hoseok just avoid the subject and give excuses. He wanted to say something, but, really didn't know about how to go about doing it. Did Hoseok not notice how easily someone else could want you? Did he not notice how male baristas and men in many of the places you go flirt and make passes, every time you turn them down. Did that not make Hoseok's blood boil the way it did his? He felt his blood boiling more every second he thought about it. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel from his grip. In the shower he found himself still thinking about it and you, what did you do when this happened? Were you crying? How many times have you cried before? "SHIBAL!!" He found himself punching the shower wall before running his fingers through his hair to rinse it out and stepping out. He made a quick dinner and went to bed, he had to admit he was exhausted. However laying down and closing his eyes brought him no rest. He kept hearing your voice and those words, remembering you on your knees and spent the night tossing and turning and punching his pillow until he had to do something about it.

The next morning he definitely needed coffee so he grabbed some and went over to your place, he liked packing as much time in with you and Hobi as he could when they were home. You weren't home and had to work.

"What are you looking at?" Hobi asks, noticing how intensely he was focused on his phone. "Hm? Oh Pinterest...."

"Pinterest?" Hobi raises a brow

"Yeah, looking up ideas for your wedding..."

"My wedding?" He looks up at Hoseok, his friend was dead serious

"Yes, you're engaged, remember, to YN, you know, the woman whose been with you the past decade, engaged to you for more than half of it, that YN, that wedding"

'Oh shit, I forgot," Hobi laughs

Yoongi reeled himself in to not deck his friend, "so for the flowers, she doesn't like red, so-"

"We have to wait, there's too much going on to think about that"

"I mean yeah, we have touring, but we have time in between, a few weeks here and there and she said she doesn't want anything huge ....she's got no family"

"I'll get to it, I'll get to it," Hobi fans him off, "oo~, I have to go," Hobi rushes off

"Yeah....later.....," Yoongi leans back and hangs back a moment as he leaves, in utter disbelief before thinking, he did this way too often. What the fuck was going on? He chews his lip and lets Hobi get a head start before following him to wherever he was going. They come to a stop at a school and Hobi gets out.

"What the hell?" Yoongi asks, sitting a distance back in his car. He sees a woman come over and they embrace each other, like a reflex, he grabs his phone and he watches the woman kiss Hobi, and Hobi kiss her, hold her waist close, they make out for several minutes before going inside. About fourty five minutes later, they walk out with Hobi carrying a little boy, who had just finished his kindergarten graduation based on his little cap and gown attire