#one date and a coffee and boy is already waiting for his man like a wife whose husband is at the war

[asraindarkness]

“look who almost made it” buck says with that big smile and shiny eyes while he was dragging tommy into the room by his hand.

baby love absolutely no one was expecting tommy to show up.

ppl either didn’t know him or knew he was at work fighting a wildfire:)))))))

it was only you. you who checked your phone and watched the door for him to come to you:) no one was expecting him except YOU lover boy.

[tinycoffeeroom]

you and i | lando norris

face claim: bela juliana ♡

request: here !

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

requested: Can I request a social media AU leclerc reader x lando based off of the song ‘You and I’ by Rita Ora Thanks so muchhhhh

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 679,154 others

y/nleclerc oh to be the girl someone writes love stories about

fan I WILL!!!!! give me 10 minutes and garage band i can pull it off!!! ♥️ y/nleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux every love song is about you gorgeous girl x ↳ y/nleclerc when are you gonna stop pretending you like my brother and just date me instead x ↳ charles_leclerc ?? rude.

landonorris d4vd is so good! can't wait for his show in london :)

lewishamilton pipe is right there 😉 ↳ y/nleclerc that is NOT a love song sir lewis hamilton!!!! ↳ charles_leclerc back off grandpa i will put sand in your petrol tank ↳ lewishamilton woah calm down there bud i was joking i promise ↳ y/nleclerc play nice boys ↳ charles_leclerc he started it ↳ y/nleclerc well stop, i dont want ferrari in my dm's telling me y'all are throwing hands on the grid ↳ georgerussell63 if they do, can someone film it? ↳ y/nleclerc ffs

carmenmmundt prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc MWAH MWAH MWAH love you carm 💜

francisca.c.gomes getting ed sheeran on the case rn ↳ y/nleclerc i still bawl my eyes out to cold coffee nearly daily ↳ pierregasly really y/n? ed sheeran? ↳ y/nleclerc ok mr listens to crazy frog when he thinks no one can hear

fan lando being the only one y/n airs everytime ☠️ ↳ fan feel bad for him at this point 😭 ↳ fan y/n you want a lover boy, he is RIGHT THERE

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption: y/nnies song recs of the day] replies:

charles_leclerc need to find you a boyfriend immediately so you'll stop posting sappy songs on ig ↳ y/nleclerc as long as its not one of your colleagues ↳ charles_leclerc whats wrong with them? :((( ↳ y/nleclerc i hear enough about cars from you i dont need it from them too

landonorris iris is a certified BANGER

heidiberger wanna go get coffee?? i need you to give me new songs for my danny playlist ↳ y/nleclerc y'all are so gross but yesssss ↳ heidiberger i think you misspelt cute 😋

fan y/n can i recommend turning page by sleeping at last? i'm not sure if you have it on your playlist already ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc team edward FOR LIFE!!!! was one of the songs that got me into my lover girl era ❤️❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,285 others

y/nleclerc garden party with my favourite leclerc saint mleux ❤️

charles_leclerc wow i see how it is... ↳ y/nleclerc not my fault your son is cuter than you ↳ oscarpiastri aw i knew you thought i was cute 🥰🥰 ↳ y/nleclerc the cutest piastri-leclerc! come round for tea soon, i miss my nephew x ↳ oscarpiastri will you make that pasta dish again? ↳ y/nleclerc i will just for you! ↳ landonorris osc save some for me please ↳ oscarpiastri get your own y/n this ones mine ↳ landonorris just you wait

fan the adoption is going strong i see ↳ fan i think y/ns the biggest instigator for it 😭

alexandrasaintmleux am i your favourite saint mleux? 🥺 ↳ y/nleclerc always x

landonorris leo!! miss my little man ↳ fan day 2947 of y/n airing lando ↳ fan leave him be, his little crush is cute

arthurleclerc if leo's your favourite leclerc saint mleux, am i your favourite leclerc? ↳ y/nleclerc not even close, that spot is for maman only ↳ leclerc_pascale 🥰🥰

fan where's the dress from?? its so gorgeous!! ↳ y/nleclerc it's from a little boutique in monaco! let me see if i can find some alternatives online 💜 ↳ fan my queen thank you!!!

fan oh to be at a garden party with the leclercs...

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charles_leclerc uploaded to their story

replies:

fan you and alex are so cute ↳ charles_leclerc 😉🤫 ↳ fan what does that mean im scared

fan alex was wearing a floor length dress,, whomstdve is THAT mr leclerc?

arthurleclerc i don't like the way he was looking at her ↳ charles_leclerc don't you dare say anything ↳ arthurleclerc you want.. lando???? to date our sister ↳ charles_leclerc oh he's absolutely smitten, it's cute

y/nleclerc is... is that me and lando? ↳ charles_leclerc you guys looked so cute i couldn't help it ↳ y/nleclerc stalker alert!!! ↳ charles_leclerc deflect all you want, i know you liiiike him ↳ y/nleclerc 🙄🙄

landonorris mate can you send me this please? ↳ charles_leclerc yeah sure 😉

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 679,253 others

y/nleclerc i believe the kids call it serving cunt

alexandrasaintmleux most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc come give me a kiss xx

charles_leclerc ??!!!?!?!?!???!!!! text me rn!! ↳ y/nleclerc i'm busy ↳ charles_leclerc i have a key to your flat, i'm not afraid to use it ↳ y/nleclerc damn ok so needy

arthurleclerc and who is that. ↳ y/nleclerc why do you wanna know? ↳ arthurleclerc oh god its Him isn't it? ↳ y/nleclerc you say that like its a bad thing 😭 ↳ arthurleclerc it is

fan UMMM??? 3rd pic???? deets please miss y/n ↳ y/nleclerc if all goes well, i'll give you all a full debrief

fan MOTHERRRRRRRRRRR

fan never mind the man DATE ME!!!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^^ ↳ lilymhe ^^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^^ ↳ alexalbon charles stop bringing your sister to races i dont know if i can fight PLEASE ↳ y/nleclerc you would lose with those lanky arms wimp

fan poor lando in the likes... watching the girl he fancies go on a date with someone else ↳ fan how do you know he fancies her? ↳ fan he's constantly in her comments even if she airs him, he gets the goo goo eyes whenever she's near and don't even get me started on hungary 2022 ↳ fan ... please continue ↳ fan ok SO! she was in the paddock before the race and some guy came up to her and was asking her for a photo and then he asked her on a date ??? like dude use critical thinking skills for one second ... lando was across the paddock with daniel and there's a photo of him somewhere staring DAGGERS into this mans soul... charles came over and shooed the man away and lando literally deflated.. i'll see if i can find the photos ↳ fan tag me in them please ↳ fan me too! ↳ fan me three!! ↳ charles_leclerc me four!! ↳ fan CHARLES???

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y/nleclerc uploaded to their story

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 708,256 others

y/nleclerc flowers from lover (?) boy :)

fan oh she's down Bad ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys dont call me delusional but i think she's dating a driver ↳ fan charles would burn the world down before he would let that happen ↳ fan i gotta say... they have a point, remember when they did that tiktok where they asked drivers who they would introduce their sisters to on the grid and charles said lando immediately ↳ fan and then they did the f2 gang and arthur threatened to kamikaze anyone who tried to go near y/n? ↳ fan going off the comments i'm putting 2 and 2 together and getting 4 ↳ y/nleclerc ironic ↳ fan Y/N??????

fan pls show us lover boy its been 84 years i am begging you ↳ y/nleclerc it's been like 3 months silly but soon :)

charles_leclerc i know i should feel sick seeing you so happy but it's nice to see you be treated how you deserve ↳ y/nleclerc charlie 🥺 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux he's giggling and kicking his feet rn ↳ charles_leclerc wow ↳ fan ik he's picked out a suit for the imaginary wedding ↳ charles_leclerc i reject that statement ↳ alexandrasaintmleux it's bookmarked on his laptop

landonorris pretty flowers! ↳ y/nleclerc thank you :)

fan ???!!!!! SHE REPLIED TO LANDO???? ↳ fan i know he's squealing rn ↳ fan adding it to my "y/nlando dating REAL" spreadsheet ↳ fan omg share the link ↳ charles_leclerc yeah share the link ↳ fan this feels like confirmation but we all know charles lives for the drama

leclerc_pascale don't forget to bring him to the garden party tonight! ↳ fan another one? ↳ y/nleclerc we do them quite often in summer!! it's an excuse to drink champagne at 3 in the afternoon ↳ fan ur so real for that

carmenmmundt lover boy 😔 that should be me ↳ y/nleclerc i've got two hands for a reason babygirl x

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption 3: lover boy (no ? this time)] replies:

landonorris lover girl ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc lover boy ❤️

charles_leclerc photo creds? ↳ y/nleclerc nope!

alexandrasaintmleux its not too late to run away with me x ↳ y/nleclerc meet me at the port at midnight, we can steal charles' boat xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux y/n it's charles i will bomb the port. ↳ y/nleclerc oh you're Crazy crazy ↳ alexandrasaintmleux only for her ↳ y/nleclerc gross... put my gf back on the phone

fan the sign 🥹 we need to know all the deets ↳ y/nleclerc all i will say is he gave me a mixtape :))))) ↳ fan A MIXTAPE??? LIKE A PHYSICAL MIXTAPE??? oh we stan

fan WHO !!! IS !!! LOVER BOY !!! ↳ y/nleclerc all will be revealed soon ;)

arthurleclerc maybe he has rights ↳ y/nleclerc shush you love him ↳ arthurleclerc thats before he started fancying 🤢 you 🤢

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 789,502 others

y/nleclerc he may not be able to write me love songs, but his voice is my favourite melody ❤️

fan we've officially lost her boys 💔💔

carmenmmundt just looked at george and sighed ↳ georgerussell63 ?? why am i catching strays?? ↳ lilymhe me with alex ↳ alexalbon what he say fuck me for?

fan lover girl x lover boy era <333333 ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys that's lando's necklace i'm like 99.9% sure ↳ fan you're onto something there lemme look at pap pics from the last race!

fan guys the flowers are orange... papaya even...

landonorris the guy sure likes his bouquets ↳ y/nleclerc yeah he's a real romantic 😋 ↳ fan WHERE'S THE FAN WITH THE SPREADSHEET ↳ fan I'M HERE !!!!! typing as fast as my fingers can handle!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux just so you know charles is crying at the caption ↳ y/nleclerc big softie x ↳ charles_leclerc i just have a lot of feelings :(((((

arthurleclerc i will allow him to live another day ↳ y/nleclerc i'm sure he's shivering his timbers rn ↳ arthurleclerc >:((((

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👤 landonorris liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 903,185 others

y/nleclerc lover boy x

fan miss rabbit has fainted

fan spreadsheet fan we just got a HUGE update ↳ fan i'm gonna break my laptop in 2 with my bare hands

charles_leclerc :))))) my scheme worked ↳ y/nleclerc i still hate when you do that shit ↳ alexandrasaintmleux same 🙄

landonorris lover girl x ♥️ y/nleclerc

landonorris so gorgeous, i love the way you look tonight xx ↳ y/nleclerc you said the same thing the night we danced together 🥺 ↳ landonorris i meant it then and i mean it now x

mclaren scuderiaferrari we stole your girl xx ↳ scuderiaferrari you and your ugly colours can get BACK 🤺🤺🤺 ↳ fan the girls are fighting!! ↳ mclaren UGLY COLOURS??? oh its on

carlossainz55 now he'll stop blowing up my phone about you ↳ landonorris nah now i can just annoy you about how cute my GIRLFRIEND is ↳ oscarpiastri you've been dying to say that, haven't you? ↳ landonorris mate i thought i was going to die

fan sorry can we circle back around to charles saying his scheme worked??? ↳ fan yeah charles_leclerc spill. ↳ charles_leclerc a magician never reveals his tricks ↳ y/nleclerc he forced me and lando to talk at the garden party and then pretended to get a phone call from ferrari so he could play eternal flame over the speakers ↳ charles_leclerc y/n :(((( ↳ y/nleclerc you used my love song weakness against me, you don't get to have secrets

alexandrasaintmleux can't believe he stole my girl :( ↳ y/nleclerc you know my heart is always yours x ↳ landonorris WOMP WOMP i didn't pine for years to share

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a/n: thank you for requesting!! i think i've listened to the song about 400 times writing this! needed a lil break from the gote series and this was the perfect thing to get me out of my slump <3

taglist: @golden-hoax

[gamesetart]

sweet 'n easy

Art thought dating you would be enough. He's content to have your heart, wait until marriage to have your body, too. But it's proving really difficult when you look like that.

tags: art donaldson x fem! reader, open relationship, guided masterbation, reader's kind of messy in this one (corruption), religious themes/corruption of religious themes. nsfw. minors DNI.

a/n: this is part of what im referring to as the open relationship au and im more than expecting to write more about this dynamic! im also very open to suggestions about it

Art Donaldson is a Good Christian Boy. He's a good, smart young man. He wears his thin silver purity ring on his left ring finger. He wears a delicate silver cross on a chain around his neck. He used to sing in the church choir, and now he spends his Sundays volunteering with the children's sector and frequenting church picnics. If it wasn't for tennis, he'd probably be a priest.

You're not right for him, and he knows it. Guys like him aren't made to marry girls like you - girls with low-cut tops that show off the top hem of your lacy electric purple bra. Girls who wear low, low-cut jeans with your matching purple thong hanging out the back. Girls with butterfly-shaped tattoos hovering on your lower back. Girls who spend weekends drinking and clubbing and dancing with absolutely no room for Jesus.

But there's just something about you. Maybe it's your attitude, the way your hand flies up in class whenever you know the answer to a question, the way you speak, with such clarity, such conviction. Maybe it's the way you walk with your friends across campus, beautiful and assertive, a pack of wild hounds. You're terrifying to him. A force of nature, a thunderstorm. Art's managed to get caught up in your jet stream, but it doesn't mean he's any less scared of falling out. You and all your hot, brash, party-girl friends. You and the 'bitch pack', as some of his friends have taken to calling you and yours. The sorority girl, frat party, dim clubs, bitch pack. Girls like you don't give guys like him the time of day: you're too pretty, too powerful, far too high up on an entirely different social ladder.

But you're different. You're sweet. He's watched you stop to pet stray kittens. He's seen you volunteering to donate blood at the campus blood drives. He's seen you stop to help a girl pick up her books even though you were already late to class. He's seen your notes in his biology lecture, your cute, bubbled handwriting and your array of gel pens. He's seen you buy an extra coffee at the campus cafe for a friend. People contain multitudes, or whatever, right?

So maybe it's no surprise when you end up paired up on an assignment and you bring him back to your dorm room. Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by the boy band posters and the stacks of fantasy novels and the stuffed bear sitting on your bed. Maybe he shouldn't have been thrown off by your framed pictures - family, friends - and your collection of Beatles CDs. Just a girl. A normal, nice girl. Who lays out all her notes for him, glances up with a sweet smile, and asks,

"Where d'you wanna start?"

He didn't mean for it to go any further than that. For the study visits to start happening at night, after dinner. For you to start blowing off club nights to curl up on your plush blue shag carpet next to art, pointing out lines of text and highlighting things with a bright pink marker. For you to start eating with him at lunch, talking about your lecture, laughing over some stupid thing your professor said or did. For him to start seeing you, really seeing you, and liking that you saw him, too. It happened before he even registered it. Somewhere, somehow, Art Donaldson fell in love.

It's different than how he felt with Tashi. This isn't that painful, all-consuming desire to please, to have her notice him, the obsession with the idea of her and her tennis. This feels sweeter, kinder. This feels like what he used to read about: fireworks in his heartbeat, butterflies in his stomach, the giddy thrill of First Love. A slower, ennobling sort of love.

If he had it his way, he'd date you. Flowers. Expensive dinners by candlelight. Picnics. The works. Court you for the four years you were at Stanford together, then propose once you graduated. Spend a few years engaged so he could do his tennis, make a good amount of his own money. Save until he could plan a dream wedding. Honeymoon somewhere pretty and exotic, like Bali or Punta Cana. Then the country house and the kids, the white picket fence. Except, Art doesn't really ever get things his way, does he?

"I... I don't know," you say slowly, digging your heels into your carpet. You can't meet his sad blue eyes. You can't bear to. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. It feels alien, even in your head.

He stares at you, crestfallen. Your heart plummets and you race for an explanation, for some way to explain this without blaming him. Because it's not Art at fault, it's his Faith.

"It's not that I don't like you!" you scramble. "I do, really, Art, I do. I just... a girl has... needs, you know? There are things I'd want that I can't ask you to give me. Things I can't take from you."

You both know what it is. You'd never ask him to give up on or waver in his faith for you. Never. You like Art how he is. But you know you'd be wanting. You know you can't wait until your wedding night.

"I... I'm just not the dating type, Art," you explain mournfully. "And you don't want to date a girl like me, anyway, trust me. You deserve someone nice."

"But... you are nice," Art says, and he really does look like you've just torn his heart out and stomped on it. It's horrible. It's awful. And you feel like a monster for doing it, but what can you do?

He doesn't have a solution until a full week later. He pretends (to you, and himself) that he came up with it all on his own, when in reality it was Patrick's idea. Patrick's suggestion, murmured over the phone in cloying low tones, luring him in like sailor to siren, bee to honey, moth to flame. Art, for all his cleverness, for all his ability to read Patrick like a book, could not see it. He trusted Patrick. He should have, he's sent Patrick some of your pictures, talked about you endlessly. But Patrick was on tour, far, far away, where he could do no harm. And Patrick was taken, as he was so keen to remind Art all the time.

"She doesn't have to fuck you, man," Patrick muses. "Date her. Be her good boy, be her fuckin' sweetheart. She can get dicked down with someone else."

"You're suggesting my girlfriend cheat on me?" Art laughs, and even saying it, my girlfriend, even in hypothetical, makes his heart do a flip.

He can practically picture Patrick's face, screwed up with a mixture of pity and disdain. Poor Art. "Nah, man. I'm suggesting an open relationship, you know? Let her fuck who she wants, she's gonna come home to you."

The conviction in Patrick's voice makes Art's heart somersault. Because there's something about that idea that makes his pulse quicken. Patrick's right. You'll come home to him, your heart - the thing that really matters - will be his. He doesn't like the possessive thing that curls up in his chest and purrs at the idea. But he doesn't fight it.

"What if you didn't have to wait with me?" Art asks.

He's twirling a highlighter over his fingers. Cross-legged on your plush duvet, working at a piece of spearmint chewing gum. Gum you'd offered him, gum that you now kept a small stash of in your desk drawer for evenings just like this. The project you'd been paired up on was long over, the proud 96% sitting in your Stanford grading inbox. Now you're just regular homework buddies. Art sought you out for homework he missed because he was at practice and lecture notes he didn't get. You don't mind. You enjoy it, actually. You just wish you could give him more. Hate that you couldn't be what he deserved. It almost feels like leading him on, when he sits with you until the wee hours, sharing diagrams and passing your textbook back and forth. When he brings you your morning coffee before class, or you bring sandwiches and Gatorade to his practices.

Except now, apparently, he has a solution.

"What?" you ask, blinking at him. "What d'you mean?"

Art flushes. Soft pink. Mostly around the ears, you've noticed, red against the gentle gold of his curls. Evening rose.

"I mean, what if..." he looks away. "You know. You went out with me. Dated me. But you could... 'hook up' with other people when you needed to."

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. Art Donaldson. Is sitting on your bed, asking you for an open relationship? Are you dreaming? Has the world suddenly gone mad? Did you go to bed last night and wake up in an alternate dimesion?

"You... are you suggesting... what I think you're suggesting?" you ask faintly.

He nods, ears burning a truly impressive shade of crimson. You suppose you should be flattered, really, the lengths he's going to date you. Most guys would have given up by now, egos bruised, feelings hurt, hearts shattered. And with most guys, you would have been firmer, clearer, colder. Meaner. But Art isn't most guys. Art is sweet.

"I-- shit, Art, wouldn't you rather just date some other girl like you?" you say helplessly.

"I don't want another girl, I want you," he replies plainly. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like there's no other answer.

And that's all it takes for you to agree. It's impossible to say no to those baby doll eyes. The two of you set ground rules - you don't tell him who or where or how, just that it happened. He doesn't ask you any questions. No one leaves you any marks. Immediate friends, such as Art's tennis circle and his church friends, are off limits. And that's that. He's your boyfriend now.

Art thought it would suffice. He likes being with you. Holding your hand while you walk to class. Seeing you in the stands when he plays a match. Chaste little pecks here and there. But you're like a pit of quicksand, a hurricane. You draw him in quicker than he thought possible, and now he can't breathe, can't think, can't move. The corruption is slow, certain, and inescapable.

He starts to find himself wanting more.

A kiss in his dorm room that deepens instead of stops, one hand cupping your jaw, the other floating to rest on the small of your back, above the waist of your low jeans, on the warm, bare skin there. A glance that feels more than affectionate, his eyes roving over your collarbone, the glint of your skin in the sun, the line of your bra beneath your sheer, tight shirt. He sees you smile at another guy and a hot flash of jealousy surges through him as he wonders if this is one of the guys you're fucking, if that guy, that random piece of shit, gets to touch you, see you, feel you. He tamps it down, and it feels too little, too late.

You'd be a fool not to notice. Stupid, not to feel the press of his hard-on when he hugs you from behind. Not to sense the shift in the way he kisses you, tongue slipping past your lips, hands sliding down further than they usually do. He plays it off, always. An accident. The heat of the moment. But you know. And because you're weak, because you're a terrible person, because ruining Art Donaldson is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to you, you let him.

"Art, do you ever touch yourself?"

He falls off his chair in his hurry to spin around and look at you. From the floor of your dorm, he stares with wide blue eyes and pink cheeks. "Wha--"

You shrug. "You know. Do you ever..." you make a crude gesture with your hand, and he buries his face up to his nose in his collar.

"No," he says, muffled into his tee shirt. "It's sinful."

It takes every fibre of your being not to laugh. He's so precious, so pure, sometimes you wonder why a guy like him could ever be interested in you at all. Your looks are one thing - you know you're hot. But Art likes you. He likes you even when he can't fuck you. He liked you even when you told him you wouldn't date him. He likes you because you're you. Which makes you feel a little shitty about what you do next, but you can't help it.

"So, what, when you're hard, what do you do?" you press casually. "Send up a Hail Mary and wait?"

Art's ears, which peek out over his shirt collar, are so red they could have been on fire. He shakes his head, a little frantically. He flushes easily, you notice, blood flowing quickly whenever he's even mildly embarrassed. It conjures images of his cock, whatever it might look like, red and aching with need. And you feel a lot less bad, the mental image of Art's dick fuelling the way you lean over, sliding off your chair to join him on the floor. You kneel, hands resting on your knees, and you know he's getting an eyeful of your tits. You keep your eyes on his face.

"Show me," you murmur. "I won't touch you. I won't even touch myself. I just wanna see."

He stares at you like you've asked him for his social security number and all his credit card info. Which, honestly, he probably would have given up a little easier. And you're an awful person, because you know the effect you've had on him, especially these days, you know that Art will probably do anything you ask of him, just for the pleasure of pleasing you.

"Please?" you wheedle, cocking your head to one side lightly, staring up at him through your lashes.

And, really, how could he say no to that?

"I-- okay," he says, and he tries to pretend like he's relenting a lot more than he actually is. Pretends like he's doing you a huge favour, as if his cock isn't straining at the mere idea.

Art doesn't jerk off often. He's only ever used his hand once - the single time Patrick showed him. After that, he'd cried in the bathroom and washed his hands so many times he got a contact allergy. But he's figured out an alternative. One that doesn't involve him touching himself at all. So he slides off his sweats, all too aware of your steady eyes on him. You look at him like you've never seen legs before, as if you haven't seen him at a thousand practices. You look at him like you want to eat him.

He tries to tell himself that's not what's making his cock throb in his boxers. He keeps those on, more for his sake than yours.

"You can lie on my bed," you offer innocently.

Art almost moans. Because it's your bed. Because it's yours, and when he lies down it's almost like lying with you. When he buries his face in the pillow, he can smell you, your vanilla and roses body wash, and, beneath it, the gentle smell of you. It's your sheets he starts to cant into, hips rolling in a familiar motion as he starts to work away the desperate pressure in his cock. It's your pillow he bites in a futile attempt to muffle his moans. And when he looks up, eyes half-lidded, he can see you watching him. You're biting your lip, looking flustered, and it's the cutest he's ever seen you, and he moans your name without meaning you.

You keep your promise, hands folded neatly in you lap as you watch Art rut into your bed like a wild animal, like he's in fucking heat, like your sheets are a person and he's fucking it. Like your sheets are you, you realise, as his eyes meet yours and he whines your name. He's pretending he's fucking you. It's hard not to give up and shove one hand into your panties, but for his sake, you try. Art's moans are almost musical, and with a sharp slap of embarrassment, you're reminded of the sounds he makes when he hits the ball at practice. The same whining grunts of exertion, except now they're fuelled by pleasure, spurred on by the desperate grind of his hips into your sheets, not a fucking tennis ball.

"Oh, oh, fuck," Art's voice gets a little higher. "Oh, fuck, it's so good--"

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you shift slightly. His movements grow a little more erratic, hands balling up into white-knuckled fists into the soft fabric of your sheets. You drink it all in while you can - his ears are red, his cheeks are pink. You follow the curve of his ass in his boxers. You stare at the muscles in his thighs. The bones of his hips.

Art gets breathy when he's about to cum. Breathy, very whiny, almost crying if you're being honest. You file that information away for later.

"Please, please, can I?" he gasps, staring up at you with pupils blown wide with lust. "Can I cum, please, fuck, need it, need it-- you-- fuck, please?"

It's surprising he can even string together a full sentence. "Of course, baby," you murmur, already resolved to not changing your sheets until after you've cum in them too.

Another nugget of information: Art favours a deep grind when he cums, like he's looking for a place to put it, to bury it, looking to breed, to mark, to keep. The sight of him pushing his hips as far into your mattress as he can before he cums, a cry of your name and a shuddering breath slipping from his lips, will probably fuel your nighttime ventures for the next few weeks. You'll use it when you find your next hook up, it'll probably send you right over the edge.

You don't know when you started thinking of Art while you fucked other guys. You just know that now, it's tricky to get off without it. It's hard enough biting your tongue so you avoid saying his name. Now, you'll have the image of his face when he cums locked in your brain forever.

"Shit," Art curses, still breathless, sitting up to examine the sticky mess soaking from the front of his gingham boxers, all the way into your sheets. "Sorry."

You just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. That was... really hot. That's actually how you get yourself off?"

He nods, embarrassed. When he shuffles off to shower, borrowing your shower caddy and a towel, you wait until your door click, and then you practically rip open your nightstand. It takes less than ten minutes with a vibrator and the memory of Art's voice moaning your name for you to add your cum to his. You imagine his hips fucking into you, not your sheets. You imagine pulling his stupid fucking purity ring off and wearing it like some fucked-up engagement ring. His hands are so big, you'd probably have to wear it on your thumb. His hands. You imagine them grabbing you, holding you, sliding up your skin. You wonder what it would be like to have him revere you, not his God. Worship you. You want him to, you think. The idea of him shattering every promise he's ever made, just to be inside you? It sends you over the edge with a muffled cry of his name.

It's that feeling, that messy need for him, that drives you to that frat party. You told him, obviously, and while he seemed sort of put-off when you mentioned you were probably going to sleep with someone, he told you it was okay. Told you to be safe.

You wish you could tell him, but you're worried it'll scare him off. Don't worry, Art, every guy I fuck, I pretend he's you. And now I'll have the knowledge of exactly what you look and sound like when you cum to help me out! Not exactly girlfriend material.

Still, you're thinking of Art when your eyes land on a boy playing beer pong. He's tall, all messy black curls and tanned skin. Handsome, too, if you're being honest, in a messy, frat boy-y kind of way. Hook up hot. You're thinking of Art when he waves you over, holding up a beer like it's a peace offering. You're thinking of Art when you give him your name and ask for his.

"Patrick," he tells you easily. "Patrick Zweig."

[yndrgrl]

your boyfriend, katsuki bakugo, loves you dearly, but you're scared you'll never be deserving of him

cute lil dabble. lowkey songfic. fem! reader. angst to comfort. fluff. established relationship. any au. overthinking! reader.

warnings: there are none :D

a/n: picture a "too sweet" by hozier girl x "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys boy relationship !

-

katsuki is always characterized as hostile yet calculating, a man who knows exactly what he wants. he's destined to be the top of the food chain, everyone knows it. he's powerful man with a deadly gorgeous face, his fangirls would describe.

& in comes you. plain old you.

you honestly have no idea what katsuki sees in you. like, if you're digging deep in yourself, maybe he likes your for your dark, crude sense of humor that always seems to make him belly laugh.

it's said that he's an early bird. he's awake before you every single day, asleep & sound by 8:30-- on the weekends, he'll push it to 10:00. before you've said your first words of the day, he's already made his side of the bed, made & ate breakfast, put away the laundry, & is off to his morning run after his morning workout. his good habits he's developed early in life has benefited him in every way.

he never procrastinated on chores, his paper work is flawless, & you could learn a thing or two from his time management skills. he's always making time for spontaneous dates you wanna go on, festivals you wanna visit, & he makes sure that the pantry is stacked with your favorite snacks. any of your interests are his interests, even if he doesn't fully understand it.

when it comes to katsuki, you ought to wonder if he ever wants to experience something different from his strict, repetitive lifestyle. you sometimes feel stupid for wanting more out; you want to travel somewhere far away, you want to go out clubbing with a bunch of strangers, you want to move to the country side & live in a cottage. katsuki always reels in your dreams, encouraging you but also reminding you that you need to stay consistent to achieve them. you're jealous with how fast he can accept reality.

"babe? you listening?" katsuki questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked a couple of times then nodded almost-too enthusiastically. he let out a little chuckle & stroked your cheek with his thumb. "what're you thinking about?"

"nothing, i'm sorry," you sighed with your hands in your lap. you both were on the couch, doing your own thing. he was on his phone, & you were supposed to be doing some work on your laptop, but you found yourself spacing out again.

"don't apologize. i'm just curious about what's going on in that pretty, little head of yours," he told you before he took your hand & pressed his lips against your knuckles. you thought to yourself, i'm not good enough for this man.

you debated whether or not to tell the truth. on one side, he has been your devoted boyfriend for years now, but on the other, he could just be asking out of curtesy. like, what if he actually does not care at all- "(y/n)? talk to me. i know you have something you wanna say," katsuki commented, scooting closer to you. he set the pillow that you placed your laptop on the coffee table so he could get your undivided attention. he caressed your thigh to help ground you.

you stayed silent for a moment, & he waited patiently. you swallowed, your eyes darted from his piercing red ones to the floor to his hands. finally, you said, "you're too sweet for me." he laughed & laughed, & you couldn't help but crack a smile. "what? what's so funny?" you pouted.

"sorry for laughing, princess. it's just no one ever calls me sweet. like, ever," admitted katsuki as he settled down from his fit of laughter. what he said was true though, he didn't have a problem with it. he was not sweet at all, he was rough around the edges & egotistical with the skills to back him up. he only ever thinks about himself & you. "but what makes you say that, hm?"

"well, for one, you always treat me out & take me anywhere i want. we never go where you wanna go," you pointed out, jabbing your finger in his toned chest playfully.

"that doesn't make me sweet. i have the money, & i don't fuckin' care about where we go to eat."

you chose to ignore him, rolling your eyes at him because that was his excuse every time. "two, you're literally in the prime of your life, & you choose to go to sleep at 8:30? how do you sleep so well?"

"(y/n), what is this really about?" he questioned. katsuki brushed your hair away from your face, tucking the silky strands behind your ear. "& don't lie to me, i know you."

"ugh, fineee," you groaned as you threw your head back. maybe it was for comedic effect, or to gather your thoughts & regulate the tears that started to well in your eyes. "do you think i'm like, worthy of you?"

"worthy of me?"

"yeah, do you think i'm good enough for you?" you rephrased, pulling your hands away from him to rub your upper arm. it's embarrassing to admit something, it's scary too. what if, once you point it out, he'll agree & leave you?

"'course i do! i'm the best around & i got the best fuckin' girl, why are you thinking this shit?" katsuki exclaimed, his passion that you wish you had seeping through to his tone. a moment of thick silence followed, you took a deep breath. you suck at emotions.

"you're too good for me, okay! you're so much stronger than everyone, & if that wasn't enough, you're insanely smart! i'm just... here. average at best. people praise you like the morning after an eternity of darkness. you're the rain after a heatwave. everything works out for you, & i'm just the one holding you back from even better things-"

"babe, you're not holding me back or whatever. you've never held me back," he stated like it was a fact, but you felt as though he was just saying that to calm you down. it angered you, & you were ashamed that you were angry because it wasn't even directed at him, it was directed at the fact you felt unworthy.

"no, you don't get it! i aim low because it's realistic for me, i can't afford to aim for anything else because i'm destined to fail. you, on the other hand... you have so much potential. don't you get embarrassed about having a girlfriend like me?"

"no." he answered so quickly, like it was rehearsed, like he knew what you were going to say. "i've never felt embarrassed of you ever. you're so fuckin' dense, you know that?"

you paused just to stare at him. katsuki sure had a way with comforting people. even after years of being a hero, he never learned how to traditionally comfort people. tough love, everyone would call it. but with you, he forced himself to be tender because you deserve treatment no one else gets from him.

there were so many things he wanted to say to you. don't you realize what you do for him? god, katsuki would go mad living without you now that he knows what life is like with you, his missing rib. the two of you are meant to be, you're two sides of the same coin. so what if he's as bright as the morning? you were his darling night, the very universe was visible through your eyes.

"you must be dense if you really thing you're just average. would i go for an average girl?"

"i mean-"

"no, the answer is no. you're deserving of love, my love. everything you've accomplished, everything you've overcome, you're just diminishing it because what? you think you're dumb or something? you- you..." you're the reason my world goes round, you are so talented, he was so desperate to shout these praises at you.

he was never one for romantic gestures through words. if he did, he would've been the best damn poet in the game. "i am yours."

it was such a simple sentence, yet it shook you to the core. you stared into his lively, crimson eyes. the look he gave you in return made your breath hitch; he was so deeply devoted to you, as deep as the pacific ocean.

you leaned in, capturing him in a kiss. tears rolled down your cheeks, your despair melting away. you felt like the two of you were kids again, sharing your first kiss. how could you doubt a man who so clearly, who so desperately, loves every bit of you.

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought!

But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.

Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.

He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.

He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.

He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.

So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.

...

You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.

But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.

So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.

So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.

"Your name is Y/N?"

"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."

He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."

"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."

"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."

You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."

He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.

"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."

"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.

He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."

"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.

"Ah, there they are. Right on time."

Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.

But let's move down the line.

You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."

"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"

"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.

"Ok then, where do I sign."

This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.

[ultravi0lence14]

My Girl

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.2k | angst, fluff

summary: some people just don’t know when to quit, and when dean notices how uncomfortable you are with a local cop on a case, he can’t seem to hold in his anger.

there was no way this hunt could get any worse.

you, sam, and dean had only been in this small, connecticut town for two days, and everything had already gone to shit. the lead witness was no help, there was barely any evidence, and to top it all off, you had to see him.

max mcmillan, the person you wished to never see again. you knew him in high school, being a friend of a friend and running into him on rare occasions.

max seemed like a nice guy, his only flaw was he always harboured a weird liking towards you. it wasn’t something you’d deem stalkerish, just an observation that you had made over the years.

just your luck he was here now, working as one of the police officers on the case. you had politely smiled at him when you first saw him, but the second he realized who you were it was almost as though that keen liking he had towards you crawled back up.

he would always be around you. getting you coffee, trying to start up a conversation, and being way too close for your comfort. you could tell that dean had noticed this, and he seemed as though he was one more shoulder pat away from blowing a fuse.

dean could tell you were uncomfortable. he knew what you looked like when that chill of unease ran up your spine, and he knew how you were about physical touch.

you were never good with people touching you, even as a young child. if someone even grazed your hand you would unravel into a fit of tears, needing to be alone for the next couple of hours to calm yourself down.

no hugs, handshakes, hand holding, anything. you didn’t have a healthy relationship with physical affection as a child, for both of your parents were not really the perfect candidates for mom and dad of the year. but you lived with it, and dealt with your no physical contact for many years to come.

that was until dean winchester came into your life.

you had met the infamous winchesters when bobby asked them to assist you on a ghoul case two years back, and since then, you three have been inseparable.

from the start you liked dean. he had this charm and whit about him that just reeled you in, wanting to know more. didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous on top of it.

the boys almost instantly noticed your distaste for any physical touch. it was sam who saw you flinch when he went to go hug you after a tough case. since then, they have respected your wishes and didn’t bring up the matter unless you did first.

as you and dean got closer, he would constantly catch you reaching out but reeling back at the last minute. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he waited until you two officially started dating, making sure you were comfortable with him touching you.

you were, one hundred percent. dean winchester was the only person you’d allow to hug, touch, or even hold your hand. you were slowly warming up to sam, but any other person was completely off limits, and if dean noticed he’d be on their ass in a second.

so as he stood in this police precinct, a watchful eye on max as he leaned over your shoulder, practically breathing down your neck and making you tense immediately, dean wanted to beat into his face until he learned what personal space and boundaries were.

sam had noticed the man’s unwanted attention on you, but he also noticed the fury written on his brothers face and he wanted to defuse the situation as calmly as possible.

while they stood side by side, pretending to listen to some cop ramble on about a traffic cam that wasn’t even in importance to the case, sam angled his head and whispered over to dean. “if you stare at him any longer i think you might explode his head.”

the older winchester just huffed, redirecting his eyes so he can look at sam. “well if he doesn’t back up than i might just have to.” the words came out like a bullet coming out of a gun; followed by dean straining his head so he could keep an eye on your facial expressions.

“she can handle herself, dean. you don’t need to worry about her all the time.” sam was right. you were perfectly capable in handling yourself and dean knew that. he just had a nagging feeling that this guy wasn’t going to back off so easily.

you were on the verge of turning and clocking max in the face. his breath on your skin was making you uncomfortable and he was way too close for comfort.

“the suspect couldn’t have gone far since- Y/N?” you hadn’t even realized you had zoned out, too busy being focused on calming your breathing and not breaking down.

“i’m sorry,” you spoke, taking a step back from max and turning towards the door. “i’ll be back, i just need to get some fresh air.” you didn’t even wait for a response as you sprinted towards the glass double doors, pushing them open and heavily breathing in the cool air.

leaning against the solid brick of the station, you tried to stop a panic attack from coming on. slowing your breathing, calming your thoughts, and taking in the fresh air was helping you get back on track. that was until you heard his nagging voice again.

“there you are Y/N. i think you should come back inside, i think i’ve found something.” max had come and stood so close to you it was like he was trying to mesh the two of you together. you couldn’t take it anymore, taking a giant step back and reeling your hands out in front of you.

“max, i am so sorry but can you please give me some personal space?” he seemed taken aback by your words, halting in all movement he was planning on doing. you realized you could’ve been nicer but this had been going on for two days and you were sick and tired of acting like you were fine.

doing the complete opposite of what you had asked, max started to step closer to you. “what’s wrong, Y/N? did i do something?” it was like what you were saying was going in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t grasp what the boy wasn’t picking up on

“max, please.” you breathed out, hoping he would understand and leave you alone. but he just came closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his chest.

the air in your lungs escaped. you couldn’t breath and it was almost as if your skin was on fire. you tried to pull away but his grip was far too tight, fighting your attempt to get away from his touch. “cmon, Y/N let’s just go inside. work this out together.” he was dragging you now, attempting to get you to the precinct doors. but the fight you were putting up was straining any further moves he had planned.

feebly trying to push at his chest with your other hand, you felt tears sting your eyes, escaping and falling down your cheeks. “let me go max, please.” you could feel your brain shutting down, the notion of max not listening to a single word you were saying finally setting in.

you could feel your resolve start to slip when suddenly, you heard a faint shout in the distance. a loud “hey!” was heard over your racing heart before max was spun around and knocked to the ground.

dean was holding max up by his collar, fist landing repeated blows on his face. you could see sam and a couple other officers run outside as dean held max up like a rag doll, the latter not even being able to land any punches with how tight dean was holding him.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” dean’s words came out gritted through his teeth, sharp like a knife piercing max’s skin.

you didn’t know what to do. dean was in such a frenzy that trying to pull him away would just be stupid, and you were honestly enjoying watching max get his ass beat.

“dean!” sam yelled, finally reaching his brother and trying to pull him off the struggling man. the older winchester just wouldn’t budge, and it took sam and three other cops to fully detach him from max’s limp body.

you watched as sam attempted to pull dean’s arms behind him, the latter fighting his brother with such intense fervour you truly thought he was going to break free and go for another couple of punches on max’s face.

when sam was able to slightly calm dean down, the older winchester walked to max and got right in his face, staring at the other man with the deadliest look you have possibly ever seen from him. “if you even step one foot towards my girl, i’ll fucking break your legs. got it?” all max could do was slightly nod, slipping in and out of consciousness

the other police officers had gone inside to get medical attention and had now come out to see if max had sustained any proper injuries from dean’s beating. before any of them could even utter a word, dean had walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand, following sam as the younger winchester high tailed it to the impala.

the car ride back to the motel was silent, filled with a tense atmosphere that had you picking at your nails. dean was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the wounds on his bloodied knuckles were widening more greatly. sam was just staring ahead, not saying a word. if you knew the boy though, you knew that inside he was stewing with a multitude of emotions.

when the impala stopped in front of the motel, you got out and went directly to the room. you noticed sam stop dean, not letting him walk into the room yet. the look on his face was passive, and you knew that sam had an earful waiting for dean to hear. so you just closed the door, listening to sam scold dean through the window.

all you could do was sit on your bed and stare silently at the wall. this is exactly what you would do as a kid, sit in silence trying to calm yourself down. you didn’t even hear the roar of the impala as sam drove off or dean come into the room. you only noticed when a soft, gentle hand was placed on your cheek, making you turn to look dean in the eyes.

“hey, baby, you okay?” all you could do was nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. dean just nodded, slightly brushing some hair out of your eyes as he smiled. “sam just went to grab some dinner. doesn’t look like we’ll be going back to the station tonight.” his sad attempt at a joke made you giggle slightly, warranting an even bigger smile on deans face.

“there she is.” he guided your head so it laid on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. the feeling of your arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing him tightly had dean feeling calm, at ease after all that just happened.

what snapped you out of your comfort was the scene of deans knuckles; stained with blood and marred with cut skin and angry red wounds. you pulled back and studied his hand, allowing yourself to truly see what he’d done.

“oh dean,” you muttered. bringing his hand closer to your face to see how truly bad the cuts were. “we need to clean this up.”

with a reassuring squeeze of your hand, dean got off the bed and stood in front of you. watching as your eyes worriedly followed his frame, waiting to see what he was going to do.

cupping your face once more, dean smiled as he spoke. “don’t worry your pretty little head, sunshine. i’ll patch myself up. i will be right back.” with that he kissed your cheek and made his way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him as you moved to get into comfier clothes.

by the time dean was done, you were already in bed. half asleep as you were tired from how fast your brain was moving today. you listened as dean got out of his fbi suit, resorting to just sleeping in his boxers as he moved to get in bed next to you.

your body moved so you could put your head onto dean’s chest, finding comfort in how close the two of you were. his one hand moved to play with your hair as his other went to grab your own hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and lightly brushing them across your skin.

the last thing you remember before falling into a deep sleep was the feeling of dean’s hand in your hair and his soft voice soothing all your worries from earlier.

“i’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 jason meets a single father, desperate for a chance at love again. little did you know, you’re right up his alley! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, dilf!reader, red hood! jason in mind, age gap [reader is in his 30s while jason is 23] mentions of divorce, sexting, doggy style, implied size differences, breeding, jason wants to knock you up so bad omfg

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ this was lowkey a little self indulgent but can you blame me? no. now shush and enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡. — jason todd never really cared about his dating life, and really why should he? getting blown up, resurrected and busting some heads open keeps a man busy! if he’s not dealing with black mask’s goons or the bat himself, you can find him in the nearest diner enjoying his own company. that is of course..until he laid eyes on you.

ᥫ᭡. — alone and pretty, you sat at the bar stood a couple feet away from him. staring down at the empty pit of your dark coffee, you’re heart heavy and tears threatening to spill out. jason, while having a hard outer, still had a little heart to scotch over and struck up small talk with you. after all, he did say it himself that he is a good listener! after some innocent chatter, you finally allowed the friendly face to fall and began to vent to the stranger. you’re recent yet messy divorce from your ex-husband, the juvenile drama he brought, the exhausting routine of juggling work with your daughter—wait. you had a daughter?! jason eyes widened, finally allowing himself the realization. you were one hell of a dilf! <3

ᥫ᭡. — despite being nearly a decade apart in age, you looked so damn good. tired eyes peering upwards at him with that adorable, gentle smile. fuck, you were so small compared to him. he could’ve easily picked you up and threw you over his huge shoulders and just take you away, back to his place. his bed. he couldn’t stop the lewd images from flooding his head, you taking his girth in that pretty mouth or face down while he dicked you down doggy style. you’d make the prettiest noises while he breeds your pretty pussy full, only to flip you onto your back and ass fuck you until you ruin the sheets.

ᥫ᭡. — fuck it. he thought to himself as you walked out of the diner happier then before, and with his number too! the next few weeks, every text the vigilante sent you made you feel more in love then your last marriage could’ve gave you. of course, the conversation didn’t stay innocent for long. soon, jason began to open his texts to pictures of you in the sexiest lingerie, you’re legs spread open to show off your needy cunt. strip tease pictures at your workplace’s restrooms in your uniform, and the audios…you’d send him a particularly lewd audio of you fucking yourself with one of your many sex toys you’ve stashed away, moaning jason’s name and begging him to come over and satiate your neglected desires. safe to say, he drove like a madman to your house the next night your daughter is with a sitter.

“o-oh jason! don’t stop please..!”

just like the way he wanted, you face down and ass high up for him to fuck your cunt stupid while you moaned like a bitch in heat. your cute cheeks were littered with his giant handprints from his harsh spankings. you were fuckin’ perfect.

“mm keep talking baby, takin’ me so well like a good little boy yeah?”

jason knew the comedic irony of calling you, an older man, a little boy. yet the name made you clench around his girth with a sigh of pleasure leaking through your drooling lips. you loved that name, a lot. something that snapped the rope of control in two, unleashing an insatiable nature that only existed in his disgusting fantasies.

jason pulled out, grabbing you by your upper body before practically manhandling you onto your back. before you could even make a noise, the young man pressed his whole weight against yours and sunk his cock into you until he was already balls deep. taking it from behind was a challenge in itself, yet he outdid himself once again as a strained moan tore itself out of your throat.

“shhh..” jason’s shushes tickled your ear, drowning out your shakey whines. “relax baby, can’t fuck a baby in you if your squirmin’ like that.”

oh..oh shit. it was enough to have you clench around his girth as he snapped his hips against yours with an unforgiving pace. a pace that spoke more then whatever came out of his mouth. nothing but promises of another baby, a sibling for your little girl from a man you met in a diner not long ago.

“just like that! like that ja..son! oh god!”

nails raked against the bare skin of his back as your felt that familiar yet distant feeling of your orgasm inching closer and closer, eyes rolled to your brain as jason kept spewing out profanities and coos of faux sympathy.

“shiiit, can’t believe you’re husband left you baby. i would’ve knocked you up every chance i got, treat you like a damn prince..”

he was right, you’re husband never gave you sex this good nor did he spoke such words that went straight into your cunt. every praise, every groan and grunt jason let out pushed you closer and closer..until you finally snapped.

“j-ja-SON! MMM FUCK!”

you gushed all over the vigilante’s cock as he painted your pussy white, breeding you until you couldn’t hold another drop in. the pleasure could’ve damn well nearly killed you as you laid there near unconscious and panting like a dog. jason, however, was only getting started.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet boy..it ain’t over till you’re kid has a sibling.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[asunflowerana]

how to crash a date

summary: friends are the best thing in our lifes, with a big talent for crashing dates.

with: Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, Iwaizumi Hajime and Kenma Kozume (and their respective "besties").

⊛ tsukishima kei: be oblivious!

Kei has been planning this date for a week already. Take you to the carnival, walk with you hand in hand, buy you some sweets, win you a teddy bear and maybe get some kisses on the way, the perfect plan. Even if he doesn't enjoy going outdoor, he's feeling excited for tonight, knowing he’ll have plenty of time to spend with you alone.

At first, things were going so well that he actually pondered going more to those carnivals.Though his main motivation wasn’t the colorful scenario, or the funny attractions over the booths; his eyes could only focus on your bright smile, luminescing the place better than those lanterns hanging above your heads.

Everything was great. Until two morons noticed your existence.

“TSUKI!” His body automatically stiffens after recognizing the voice of his two teammates, Tanaka and Nishinoya. Grimacing, he slowly turns sideways, hoping that he’s just hallucinating and the two annoying boys waving at him aren't actually real. Of all places in Japan, they had to be at the same place as him? Really?

It didn’t take long for them to approach and introduce themselves to you. “It’s nice to meet you,  ______. Tsukishima didn’t tell us he had a girlfriend. Not that we thought he could date someone.” Tanaka humored, making Noya chuckle along and Tsukishima’s face reddened with pure loathe. Before he could protest, Noya excitedly pulled you towards a game booth, breaking Kei’s hold on your hand, which made him even more annoyed. First they interrupt his date, and now they steal his girl? Tanaka rested his hand on the blonde’s tense shoulder.  “Thanks for the invite, man. We’ll have a great time together!”.

It was the worst two hours of his life.

He had to watch and control his boiling temper as his teammates spent the entire time playing and chatting with you. At least, you seemed to be having some fun with them by your expression and non-stop smile, and that only made Tsukki even more grumpy. It was his time to make you smile, not theirs.

By the time they left, it was too late for him to have a quality time with you there, so he ended up taking you home. He was already planning to punch the boys the next morning for ruining his date, but to his surprise, the night wasn’t a complete failure.

“Thank you for tonight Kei. I know it wasn’t what we planned, but I had a lot of fun.” You said genuinely, embracing him and giving his cheek a gentle peck. And for the rest of the night, Tsukishima smiled like a fool in love.

⊛ akaashi keiji: be clingy!

Akaashi and Bokuto are lifelong friends. They go to school together, have the same classes, eat at the same time, play on the same team and even return home on the same path. Literally five of the seven days of the week, Akaashi has Bokuto’s company. But as every human being, he needs an amount of time for himself and others. Especially time for you, his girlfriend of almost a month. On your days, he plans to spend time with you only, dismissing his other obligations; however, it is easier said than done when it comes to dismissing Bokuto.

Bokuto doesn’t quite understand that his friend needs space sometimes, so he gets sad when he receives a ‘no’ as an answer to his invites. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind if you’re going to be with them, he adores you. He just doesn't get why he can’t tag along with you guys.

He doesn't like to feel left out, so he decides to follow the two of you on a coffee shop date one day, to express his feelings. Yes, he was not invited, but what’s the harm, right? He’ll just sit at a table closer to yours, and wait for the right moment to make himself noticed.

Meanwhile, you and your boyfriend are chatting about your weeks, his right hand intertwined with yours on the table. Keiji’s so focused on you, that you’re the one who noticed the white-haired boy trying to hide his face behind the menu two tables from yours. 

“Kei, isn’t that guy Bokuto?” He goes mute as soon as you pronounce his best friend’s name, turning his head dreadfully in the direction your eyes indicated. Finding the noisy owl, he sighs in frustration, raising from his seat and walking toward his friend. “Bokuto-kun, what are you doing here?” He hisses to not make a scene, but his friend, emotional as he is, reacts oppositely and raises from his chair with his arms crossed and pouting like a three-year-old toddler. 

“I wanted to spend time with my friends…” He confesses gloomy, making even you feel a bit conscious at the same time amused by the scene, as Akaashi rolls his eyes. Before the brunette could reject his friend again, you decide to invite the ace to join you, receiving a confused look from Keiji in return. You simply couldn’t resist his sad puppy face. Without thinking twice, Bokuto lifts up a chair and puts it between your seats before sitting down with a huge smile on his face — much to Akaashi’s dismay.

It’ll take a while before Akaashi finally gets some time alone with you.

⊛ iwaizumi hajime: be overbearing!

Even though he’s quite popular at school for being an athlete, Hajime isn’t a flirtish guy like the rest of his friends. That doesn’t mean he can’t win a girl, it’s simply the fact that there weren’t many girls he found interesting. And after finding you, he doesn’t see himself with anyone else. But regardless of that, his friends always thought he had difficulties with romance, especially Oikawa: which explains why the brunette got so concerned when Hajime told him he asked you out on a date.

Toru didn’t want things to go wrong on this date, especially since his friend is clearly smitten by you, something that doesn’t happen often with Hajime. So he offered (imposed) his help, giving tips and tricks to turn his friend into the king of romance. The problem is that Oikawa’s a very intense teacher, wanting to give lectures every day and every time, making the brunette go crazy for good. It didn’t take three days before Iwaizumi refused further assistance, assuring his friend that he’s capable of handling a date. 

Did Oikawa listen though?

The night was going so well. Hajime took you to a friendly pub, which helped to dissolve the awkwardness of the first minutes, and made you both feel more intimate as you spoke about multiple topics. You two got along so well through the afternoon, that you already looked like a long-term couple, laughing and enjoying themselves. While Hajime told you one funny story of his childhood, he noticed something unusual through the pub’s round window, in front of him.

It’s Oikawa, waving at him while holding a sign written in bold blue letters: “Say she looks beautiful, and don’t forget to clean your teeth!”

“Can you excuse me for a second, sweetheart?” He was so nervous that didn't notice the pet name coming through his mouth, nor the way you got bashful when he said that. He just wanted to finish Oikawa’s life right there, and as soon as you nod at him, he quickly walks out for that. 

“Yo-hoo!” His captain waves as he exits the pub, smiling like a proud dad. “Iwa-chan, thought you needed a-” He doesn’t finish the last sentence since Iwaizumi hits his arm hard with the cardboard sign, making Oikawa yelp. “WHAT? WHAT DID I DO?”

⊛ kenma kozume: be noisy!

Almost all of nekoma’s volleyball team sees Kenma as someone who needs to be taken care of, even if he’s perfectly capable of doing that. When they find out that their setter started dating from other sources, everyone gets curious to know how things are going with the new couple, even if it had nothing to do with their lives, as Kenma “gently” reminded them once. Some even followed you around school sometimes, just to get to know the girl who stole the mechanic heart of their friend.

They immediately took the hint when Kenma announced one day that he needed to leave practice early for something important: it must be something involving you. Ten minutes after he left,  Kuroo, Yaku, Yamamoto, and Fukunaga initiated a secret mission to follow their teammate to his destination. Throughout the journey, Yaku kept whispering how bad spying on Kenma was, but still continued to follow the path, just as curious as the others. Kuroo didn’t waste the chance to snicker at him. 

The path leads them to a public park not too far from school, and they get just in time to witness the most surprising scene only a few bunches away: Kenma and you sitting on a red towel on the grass, having a cute picnic together. Kenma was chuckling so carefree, while you were throwing small cubs of apple into his mouth,  and no sign of his console beside him. 

The boys quickly hid behind a large bush near the spot, spying on the couple’s moment with a content smile on their faces. “Own, look how happy our Kenma is. He’s so hooked.” Kuroo says, a prideful grin taking on his expression. It’s good to see his best friend having that type of experience. 

“What are you guys doing there?” Out of nowhere, Levi appears near them, his loud voice attracting the couple’s attention and revealing their hiding spot to everyone around. The boys grimace as soon as they’re discovered, all of them feeling Kenma’s fulminant gaze. “Oops… my bad.”

n/a: i promise they had good intention 😂

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: lee chan

age gap (younger/older)

'open your eyes and see, i'm all you'll ever need'

'age is just a number.'

you sigh, turning to look at chan. 'how many times you're going to repeat that?'

'as many times as it'll take to stick in your head,' he responses easily, ignoring your flat tone and bad mood. 'age is just a number, it means nothing. so what that i am younger? does that make me less of a man?'

'lee chan, i just failed my economy midterm, how about we'll discuss the nuances of what it takes to be a man a bit later?' you deadpan, trying to keep a strict face when boy in front of you blushes.

channie blushes so prettily, you can't help but notice. he, in general, is a very pretty boy, something that you unfortunately also can't help but notice. his profile is worth painting a picture for, his smile makes you feel warm even in the coldest days and his energy levels never fail to surprise you. he also is, well, younger. much younger.

'it's just one midterm,' he soothes and moves closer, taking something out of his bag. 'it won't heavily affect your overall score, no? here, i bought your favorite croissants with pistachio from that bakery down the street.'

you frown. 'down the street? that's a really expens- channie, those croissants are really expensive.'

boy next to you has the audacity to simply shrug his shoulders like it's not a big deal. 'so what? you like them, right?' at your nod, he smiles. 'then it's okay that they are expensive.'

and it's- terribly sweet. extremely thoughtful. very kind. chan treats you like no one did before and you two are not even dating. he's finishing his first year in uni, works half-time in the library and has several basketball trainings a week but somehow always finds time for you. he is there when you're on your close-up duty in the coffee shop you work, always with umbrella cause he knows you don't have one and waits patiently for you to check all locks and then walks you back to the dormitory under the 'it's so dark outside, it's unsafe' excuse. he remembers your favorite everything from snacks to tv shows and always sends you funny memes about them to cheer you up during midterms/exams week or leaves something at your dorm for you to pick up. he listens to your endless rambles about what awaits you after uni as you're on your last year and lets you cry it out on his shoulder, never minding wet patches you leave on his shirts. chan could've been your boyfriend, really. but he's so young and you feel like you're robbing him out of experiencing this university at full even when your age difference is not that big. but why would a first year boy date forth year girl?

'you're supposed to eat them, you know,' he gently nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of sad thoughts. 'have they already gone cold? we have microvewave on our floor, if you wait here i can quickly run-'

'no need,' you interrupt, barely breathing due to how tight your chest is. exactly how much this boy is ready to do for you? 'i'll eat it like that. thank you very much, channie.'

he beams at you and he really has no business in being this cute, it does something weird to your heart. you both sit in comfortable silence as you think about all the instances when chan barelled you with his 'age is just a number'. he got hooked on you pretty much the moment you two met and for the last six months you've been hearing the same 'age is just a number' five times a week.

'are you really very sad because of the midterm?' he asks in a quiet voice. 'or is there something else?'

of course there is something else. uncertainty about the future, anxiety over the rest of the midterms, fear of failing - 'yeah, just that midterm,' you mutter, trying to fake a smile.

'why are you lying?' his tone is too harsh for you not to flinch. 'why are you lying to me right now? is it because i'm younger?'

'wha- chan, what?' you ask, baffled.

chan takes a deep breath and stares back at you with utmost seriousness. 'you think just because i'm younger i won't be able to take it? won't be able to be there for you and support you in your struggles? why are you lying to me? why you are not telling the whole truth about what's bothering you? you think i can't help just because i'm not your age or older? is this it?'

he actually is upset, you realize in shock. chan looks like he's two seconds away from pulling his hair out or crying, whichever is more fitting. his eyes are pleading you to come clean to him, to let him be there for you and your throat constricts with unsaid words. no one has ever shown this consistent interest in you, no one ever made it clear about their intentions and this right now, coming from a boy who's much younger, who only now dips his toes in the mature world makes you want to cry. it must show on your face, because chan's face crumples and he quickly sits closer to you, mumbling 'please, please don't cry, i'm sorry!' and rubbing your back.

'i'm fine, i'm fine,' you say, wiping away few tears. 'sorry, i'm weirdly overemotional these days.'

'nothing to be sorry for,' he instantly says, frowning. 'are you okay? did i upset you?'

you shake your head, smiling a little. 'no. you just made me realize what douchebags i dated before you.'

'oh.' chan's eyebrows quirk in a cute way. 'uh- you're welcome?'

cracking up, you lean further into him and chan welcomes it readily, wrapping his arms around you. he's warm and solid and it feels good and safe to stay like that with him. age is just a number. 'channie,' you start and he hums a little, letting you know that he's listening. 'i don't want to burden you with my soon-to-graduate kind of problems, when you've just started your uni life here. you've got so much going on and i-'

'i'm very strong,' chan interrupts with voice full of determination. 'i can have my own problems and take care of yours at the same time, i promise.'

it's sweet. so terribly, horribly sweet, you think you're going to kiss him right now. and you do, smiling when he instantly hugs you tighter and kisses you back. god, it feels good to be wanted. when you lean back, channie is staring at you in awe, stars shine in his eyes so brightly that you can't help but kiss him again. 'okay, strong boy,' you mutter, cuddling up to him. 'you got me in the end. age is just a number.'

a/n: finishing up these series pretty soon, whew! how did you like this one? come say hi <3 - nini

my other works are here

if somehow someone reading this is into formula 1, then my works for it are here

[yoongiseesawmp3]

too sweet - san

summary: model!san x designer!reader. it's love at first sight when you see san. he's perfect...for your runway show! he's the top model right now, and everyone wants him. you want him a little more, but we'll unpack that later. can you get the it boy into your collection?

word count: 8.6k

warnings: afab reader

masterlist

"how many more?" you whine, collapsing onto the table in front of you. your dramatics shuffle all of the model cards out of order after you spent the last hour organizing them. your system is ruined, so your mood goes too. the only thing to pull you back to reality is jen, your right hand man. she pulls you up, encouraging words on her lips, and gets to reordering the cards you just messed up.

"we only have a few more," she reminds you. "and the last few have been good! i think we'll have plenty of options for your show."

"yeah, the girls have been great," you agree. "but the guys are all meh. i thought i was being all forward thinking doing a coed collection but now i wish i hadn't."

"oh come on," jen nudges you. "these guys were hot!"

"they're pretty, but this guy tripped, this one didn't bring a portfolio, and this one has conflicts from now until the show," you list off. "i need at least two more, or i'll have to cut the men's pieces."

"we'll find one," jen ruffles your hair. "you want me to go bring in the next model?"

"nah, we've got a few more minutes on our break," you tell her. "i'm gonna go get a coffee, do you need anything?"

"a water is fine," she replies as you slip out the door. you try to avoid the waiting area so you won't run into any potential models. you make it to the coffee machine down the hall, and of course it's just your luck that there's a tall skinny man already there.

"y/n?" he smiles. "i didn't know this was your show!"

"seonghwa?" you smile back. "i swear, you get taller every time i see you."

"what can i say? i eat my wheaties," he jokes, pulling you in for a polite hug. "how long have you had this gig?"

"few months," you reply. "i've been shitting bricks the whole time."

"i'm sure," he nods. "but you're doing a great job. i've never seen this many top models in the same place for years. everyone wants to walk for you."

"well that's very flattering," you mumble. "but you'd think 'top models' would come more prepared. half of these bozos have not impressed me."

"she's talented and determined," seonghwa notes. "guess i gotta bring my a game."

"i guess you do," you tease him. "hey, you don't know anyone who could come audition before the end of the day, do you? i need more guys."

"i could make a few calls," he thinks. "what do you have in mind?"

"is it too vain to say someone sexy?" you laugh. "we're looking for someone intimidating, good walk, strong features. it's a dramatic piece so i want someone unique."

"i might know a guy," seonghwa nods.

"anyone i'd know?"

"i guess you'll know when you see him," he replies. "i gotta go, i think i'm next, so-"

"right, right, go make yourself pretty," you tell him. "it was so good to see you!"

"you too," he smiles at you genuinely. "proud of you."

"hey, no shmoozing before your audition."

-

seonghwa got a place in your show, obviously. now you only need one more guy. jen convinced you the tripper could work with some help, and there was another model from earlier in the day that you think deserves a call. you still need someone for your final piece, though, and you're running out of hope.

"so how do you know seonghwa again?" jen asks as you wait for the last model to show. "and how well do you know him? and how well would he like to know me?"

"we worked together a few years ago," you laugh. "he was one of the models in my first show."

"so you gave him his big break? he's indebted to you?" jen asks. "he has to make it up to you by, i don't know, going on a date with your best friend and best stylist?"

"we'll see," you frown. "you know i don't like messing with models."

"i hate that rule," jen mumbles as she sits back in her seat. "where's this last model? i wanna go home."

"seonghwa said he pulled a favor getting him here," you explain as you check your phone. "so he might be running behind. i can wait for him if you wanna go."

"no, if he's anything like seonghwa i want to be here to ogle him."

at that, there's a knock at the door, and you call out for them to come in. who steps through the door is maybe the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's striking, strong, and smiling shyly like he's not used to having eyes on him despite his profession.

"hi, i hope i'm not too late?" he asks, standing by the door.

"no," you quickly reply. "not at all, come in. you're seonghwa's friend?"

"yep," he confirms, walking up to hand you the most professional looking portfolio you've seen all day. and this guy wasn't even expecting to walk! no way you're hiring those other losers now. "i'm san."

"san, hi," you smile at him, and jen stifles a laugh next to you. somebody's smitten, she thinks, but she won't say anything just yet. "i'm y/n, i'm the designer, and this is jen, my stylist."

"nice to meet you," jen presents her hand, and san tentatively shakes it. "firm handshake, i like it. you have soft hands."

"thanks?" he laughs nervously. "um, so do i just-"

"yes, yes," you motion for him to head to the back of the room. "whenever you're ready."

as if you weren't already convinced this was the guy for you (i mean, for your show) then his walk sold it. his presence is so commanding, his movements so precise, and you've never seen someone with such perfect posture. it makes you sit up straighter as he walks toward you, and you almost swoon when he winks at you before turning around. you squeeze jen's hand under the table, and when san finishes his walk you fight the urge to applaud.

"that was great!" jen comments once san is finished. "y/n, what did you think?"

"you're perfect," you breathe out, and jen nudging you brings you back to earth. "uh, for the collection."

"thanks," san smiles proudly. "hopefully i'll hear from you soon."

"hopefully you will," you smile back. "thanks for coming on such short notice."

"it was my pleasure," san says, waving as he ducks out into the hall. as soon as the door is shut, you turn to jen and say, "i love him."

"i know you do," she laughs. "so is he in the show?"

"in the show?" you scoff. "he is the show. he's exactly what i was imagining. i want ten more of him."

"i'm sure you'd like that," she says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"stop," you roll your eyes. "i just said i don't mess with models."

"mhm," jen nods. "so who else are we casting? we have one spot for sure..."

-

san and seonghwa were cast immediately. well, maybe not immediately. you both looked through their portfolios, ooh'ing and aah'ing over their looks before deciding they had to be in the show. when you and jen decided on the next two male models quickly, you figured this would be an easy discussion. wrong! you have four female models you're willing to fight tooth and nail for, and jen has her own four that she's just as committed to. you've been deliberating for a while now, so you decide to take a break. you head to that same break room you met seonghwa in earlier, and you thought briefly about taking san's portfolio with you. for research purposes, obviously, but you decided against it.

as soon as you step into the hallway, you hear faint sounds of music. not unusual for this studio space, but still, you proceed with caution. you don't want to interrupt anybody, so you walk quietly until you find the the source of the sound. it's san! and he's...dancing?

"oh god, sorry," he bumbles as soon as he sees you. he rushes to his phone, propped against the window in front of him. "god. that's embarrassing."

"what were you doing?" you smile at him.

"embarrassing myself," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. he wiggles his phone in the air and explains, "my agent wants me to post more, says it'll help me get booked, and he sent me a couple tiktok trends he wants me to do. so i was.."

"dancin' your heart out?" you tease, and he blushes.

"you could say that," he smiles shyly, again making it seem like he's not used to having attention on him. does he know he's a model?

"wait, how long have you been out here?" you ask, worried he might have heard you and jen (mostly you) gawking over his portfolio.

"just a few minutes," he shrugs. "part of why i was able to come walk for you is because of another audition i had on the other side of this building. so i was over there for a while, and came back here to humiliate myself in front of my favorite designer, it seems."

"your favorite, huh?" you ask. "good thing we've cast my show already, otherwise i'd think you're sucking up."

"damn, so i'm too late?" san laughs.

"who else is auditioning models here?" you change the subject.

"kim hongjoong?" san says it like a question, and you nod in recognition.

"he's good," you hum. "i hope you don't get it though."

"what?" san balks. "why?"

"because i want you in my show," you shrug. "and i don't wanna fight hongjoong for you, even though i know i'd win."

"you sure about that?" san asks. "he's been working out, i hear."

"oh i could so take him," you assure san. "i'm a biter." you notice a flicker in san's eyes, a hint of something, but you feel yourself blushing and cough so you have an excuse to cover your face. "excuse me. i should probably go, we've got a few more models to cast.."

"wait, so you just drop the bomb that i'm in your show and then you're gone?" san asks, following you down the hall. "how do i know you're serious?"

"because you have my word," you furrow your eyebrows. "but if you really need the confirmation, i'm sure my people will call your people soon." as if on cue, san's phone starts buzzing, still perched on the window. san looks to it, then you. you feel vindicated as you turn and walk on to the break room with a flick of your hair over your shoulder, leaving a stunned model and the smell of peaches in your wake.

-

all the models have been cast, and it's the morning of your first fitting. you slept in your studio last night because you had so much work to do. it was mostly tiny alterations to ensure the pieces fit their new models, but you also spent half the night cleaning. you don't let people into your studio usually, or if you do, it's people that know you well enough to know you and your work are a mess. but today, you're the boss. you need to look put together, and so does your studio.

you're standing by the door, taking everything in, and decide that this is as clean as you'll get it. there's still fabric, zippers, stray threads strewn all over your work tables, but you're a designer. that's normal. if the models have complaints they can deal. being next to the door, you hear something in the hall, but write it off as one of your artistic neighbors at work. you start to walk away, toward your coffee station in the back, when the doorknob to your studio jiggles. you hear a quiet "shit" and then a polite knock, so you walk over cautiously. one look through the peephole reveals who it is.

"san?" you ask, opening the door. "what are you doing here?"

"realizing i am," he checks his ridiculously expensive watch, "an hour early for my fitting. sorry." he adds a sheepish smile at the end and you fight the urge to coo. he looks like he just woke up, and that he definitely rushed here. his clothes are mussed, hair in a beanie to hide it not being done, eyes puffy with sleep. still, he looks perfect.

"was the email confusing?" you ask. "i was worried that-"

"no," he shakes his head. "no, i was just, um, i'm really excited," he explains shyly. "i almost couldn't sleep last night, so when i woke up this morning i thought i had overslept. i should've checked."

"no worries," you say as you blush. he was excited? for a fitting? man must love his job. "here, come in. i just finished cleaning, so you get first dibs on space. there's a couch in the back if you want to nap before we get started."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, looking around at the studio. he sees a lot of chaos, but it's beautiful chaos. colors that compliment each other perfectly, strange techniques that have made something stunning. he can't believe he'll be part of this show.

"uh, since last night," you admit, finally reaching your coffee machine. "i had a lot to do."

"you slept here?" san frowns, tossing his stuff onto a table before joining you. he leans against the wall as he watches you.

"yeah," you shrug. "i hate waking up early, so it saved me from getting here grumpy if anything."

"but did you rest?" he asks, looking out at the studio. "this is a big space for one person to clean."

"jen helped," you tell him. "she was here last night to bring over the shoes for each outfit."

"which one is mine?" san asks with an eager smile.

"wouldn't you like to know?" you stick your tongue out at him for good measure. "yours isn't out here. it's so big i had to keep it in my office, i couldn't move it out here by myself."

"it's big?" he looks a little scared.

"that may not be the right word," you think. "it's heavy, so that's why i needed someone strong to wear it."

"you think i'm strong?" san smirks, and you blush. "how'd you know?"

your mind thinks to his portfolio still sitting on your desk, full to the brim of him in scantily clad photoshoots. you've seen pictures of his chest, his abs, his arms. muscles that had to take hours in the gym to sculpt. you wonder shyly if his portfolio is still on your desk, open to a picture of him in a pink outfit with a hint of his chest on display. you'll have to cover it quickly if it is.

"i asked seonghwa how you two met, and he said you go to the same snooty model gym," you explain, which is the truth. seonghwa had been in a couple shows with san before they became friends, but it took the two of them working out together to actually become buddies. they've been looking out for each other ever since, seonghwa told you. san seems to think your explanation was enough, so he hums and nods before turning his attention back to your collection.

"so how did you and seonghwa meet?" he asks casually. you tell him about your first show, as an independent designer no less, and how seonghwa found you stress crying backstage. as you always do when describing seonghwa, you stress how your relationship was friendly, but nothing more. you never want anyone to think you're fooling around with one of your models. but san finds himself thinking, hm, that means seonghwa isn't his competition.

"do you want anything to drink?" your voice pulling san from his thoughts. he looks at you, cupping a warm mug of coffee, and smiles.

"no, thank you," he says. "i try not to have anything before a fitting, i never want to mess up the sizing and put more work on the designer."

"san that doesn't sound healthy," you frown. "and what kind of designer is sticking you in clothes so skin tight you can't have a glass of water? i need names."

"it's a lot of them, i'm afraid," he laughs. "most people cast me expecting to show off my abs, or something else, so i don't have much space to mess up during show season."

"yeah, you are always showing some kind of skin," you think about it.

"you been studying me?" san teases, and you blush.

"i'm a designer, it's my job," you mumble. "i reviewed everyone's portfolio thoroughly."

"what was seonghwa's last shoot then?" san quizzes you. you make a guess, but you get it wrong. "and what was mine?"

"vogue, right?" you answer immediately, and san responds with a shit eating grin.

"i'm so telling hwa i'm your favorite model now," he says, resting against the wall again as he folds his arms over his chest. his very muscled arms, and his broad-

"knock knock!" jen shouts from the door. she steps inside and asks, "you know you didn't lock this- oh hey san."

"good morning," he nods to her. "nice to see you again."

"nice to see you too, so bright and early," jen says as she looks at you. "how long have we been here?"

"me since last night, san since a few minutes ago. he didn't read the email."

"i read the email!" he whines. "i was just excited!"

"that's sweet," jen coos as she dumps bags onto one of your worktables. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything?"

"jen, do you have a favorite model?" san asks, and she thinks for a moment.

"no, i don't," she shakes her head. "there's too many good ones, so it depends on the day. why do you ask?"

"i just found out i'm y/n's favorite," san explains with a smile.

"you just found out?" jen laughs, and you groan. san looks like he's gonna say something else but you speak before he can.

"hey, since y'all are both here, come help me move this table," you command. "we need space for the models to walk." they do as you say, but share a knowing look while you're distracted. it's a bad thing to have your best friend and your crush in cahoots, but you'll figure that out later.

-

since san was here early, you got to work on his fitting first. jen finished setting up the workroom while you and san went to your office. jen made a show of putting headphones in to listen to music, and you wanted to pinch her so hard. she's making it obvious that you have a thing for san, and you're hoping beyond hope he doesn't notice.

"oh my god," he whispers when you open the door to your office, revealing the piece you've dedicated the past few months to. "that's incredible."

"you like it?" you turn to him, unsure. "it's a lot, i know."

"i love it," he smiles from ear to ear. "i've never worn something like this before."

"i hope no one has," you laugh nervously. "i tried a technique to emulate fur, so i'm hoping this is a super cool fashion innovation that'll take the industry by storm."

"how'd you do it?" san asks, looking at the piece in awe. "and how long did it take?"

"so, i shredded pounds and pounds of natural fabric until it looked so fine it could be a better alternative to faux fur," you explain. "and it took me about...four months?" san whistles lowly, his hands twitching at his sides. "you can touch it if you want."

"i want to put it on," he turns to you excitedly. "how do you want me to wear it?"

"don't hate me," you beg. "since this is such a big piece, and i want it to draw attention, i don't have a shirt for you."

"that's ok," san nods. "adds to the natural element."

"exactly," you smile, blushing anyway. "and there's just white pants underneath, for contrast. they should be super comfy, to make up for the workout you'll get walking around in the jacket."

"i can't wait," san says happily. he turns to you fully, looking between the outfit and you. "do you want me to strip, or...?"

"oh god, let me turn around," you say. "the pants are on the desk. let me know when you have them on."

"you're very polite," san chuckles. "most designers try to manage every single thing, including how models get dressed."

"it's pants," you scoff. "if you can't put pants on how did you get out the house?"

"i'm ready," he says, and you turn back to find him in the pants, yes, but still with his shirt on.

"um, do you mind?" you ask, tugging at the neckline of your own shirt hoping he gets the hint. it distracts him just enough that you have to call his name, and he looks at you with a hum. "can you, uh, take your shirt off?" he responds with actions, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion. you squeak out, "great!" and then shuffle toward the mannequin. "i might need help lifting this."

"no worries," he hurries to your aid, his hands brushing yours as you push the jacket off the form. "wow, this is no joke."

"if it's too heavy i can-"

"i can handle it," san says firmly. "help me into it?"

you hold up one side while san slips his arm in, and then help him into the rest. you take a step closer, trying to fasten the clasp on the front, but it won't meet. you struggle for a minute, hands ghosting so softly over san's chest. he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until your voice pulls him from his focus.

"what?" he looks down at you. "why are you frowning? it looks great."

"it doesn't fit over your chest," you pout. "i thought i had your measurements right-"

"oh, sorry, i've been working out," san admits. "and i think i gave you an old portfolio since i was in a rush, so my information may not be up to date..."

"shit," you mumble, and san tries to fix the situation. he starts tugging at the jacket, but you gasp and grab his hands, stilling them instantly. you look at him sternly as you instruct, "i'll make it fit, you just have to wear it. please don't do my job for me."

"sorry," san whispers. you're so close he could just lean down and kiss that pout from your lips, but that wouldn't be professional of him. but boy does he want to.

"before you take it off, let me find your shoes," you look around. "i want to see the whole look together...maybe jen knows where they are."

you open your office door and peek your head out, gasping at what you find. jen is pushed up against one of your work tables, and seonghwa is standing before her holding her waist like she could slip away at any moment. they're making out like they've done this before, and you clear your throat to get their attention.

"hi," seonghwa mewls. "this isn't what it looks like."

"looks like two of my employees are goofing off when they should be doing their jobs," you mumble, wandering around the studio. "jen, where are san's shoes?"

"um, by the door?" she guesses. "i didn't see his outfit in here, so i didn't know where to put them."

"it's in my office," you respond. "that's why i took him in there."

"i didn't know," she shrugs. you find the shoes and then glare at them, but neither one takes you seriously.

"seonghwa, your outfit is labeled with your name. it's an easy piece, simple closures, so you shouldn't need any help getting it on," you explain. "jen, come here. we have a problem."

"holy shit, you look awesome," jen says as soon as she sees san. she looks at you and asks, "what's wrong with it?"

"his chest is too broad," you frown again, staring at san's chest. "i can't get the jacket to close."

"he can't hold it when he walks?" jen suggests, and san tries it out. you start shaking your head before he finishes, and he actually whines when he sees your reaction.

"no, it's gonna fall off your shoulders if you do that," you say. "i want it to stay in place, and i need the clasp to work for that to happen."

"so what are you gonna do?" jen asks.

"not sleep until i fix it?" you reply. you look at her in defeat and add, "i don't know what else i can do."

"can i help?" san offers, but you shake your head again as jen says, "yes, you can." you try to protest, but she cuts you off.

"he can cut the initial shreds!" she offers. "then you do your magic putting them into the jacket. it takes out a step for you so hopefully it'll be quicker."

"what she said," san butts in. "let me help, please."

"i can't pay you for your extra time," you say softly. "i don't want to impose-"

"don't care," san shakes his head. "i've got nothing else going on."

"perfect!" jen claps her hands together. "you two figure that out, i'm gonna check on hwa..."

-

the rest of the fitting goes well. it's perfect, actually. you have the best models you've ever worked with, every piece fits, and the collection looks beautiful all together. you tear up watching them all walk before you, and the piece san is wearing literally makes a hush fall over the room. he still walks toward you with a wink, but this time it doesn't affect you as much. you're too focused on how much time it'll take to add a couple more inches to the coat. when san finishes, everyone looks to you expectantly, and it takes jen calling your name for your mind to catch up with your mouth.

"i don't know what to say," you admit. "you all did an amazing job, and this was just a fitting! imagine what this show will look like on a real stage. um, a couple things to note..."

once you finish your boss spiel, the models all start changing and leave one by one. you make sure to thank them all before they leave, and in a few minutes it's just you, jen, and san left.

"seonghwa didn't wanna stick around?" you ask jen.

"you scared him," she replies. "he left so fast i'm surprised he didn't leave a trail of smoke."

"i'll talk to him," you brush it off. "keep your paws off him in my studio though."

"no promises," jen sighs, gathering her things. "i need to go get another pair of heels for our tall girl, so do you need anything else from me before i go?"

"a hug?" you think. "i couldn't have done this without you."

"she loves me!" jen says to san, and he smiles encouragingly.

"you two are amazing," san says. "i don't know how just two people put together such a stunning show."

"lots of work," you say.

"i cried a few times," jen adds.

"we both did," you conclude. "but it was fun, so it was worth it. right?"

"fun, sure!" jen agrees.

"get out of here," you push her playfully. "please rest. no boys."

"you too," jen wags her finger at you. then to san, "don't let her work too hard!"

"i'll try my best," he salutes her, and jen leaves with a laugh. he turns to you and asks, "what can i help with?"

"i need to buy more fabric," you think. "so if you want to grab food while i-"

"no, we'll both grab food, and then fabric," san decides. "or fabric then food. either way, i'm buying your lunch."

"but-"

"nope," he pulls you into his side and walks toward the door. "can't work hard on an empty stomach!"

-

you find yourself enjoying san's company more than you were expecting. he's easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, and he's so kind. he insisted on buying your lunch, even though that was going to be your payment to him for helping. he even tried to buy the extra fabric, claiming it's his fault you had to buy more anyway. you get back to your studio, smiles on both your faces, and get to work.

"so we need these in strips about an inch wide," you explain as you lay a few yards of fabric out on a work table. "tear them into strips, then we'll cut them in half, and then i can start shredding and adding them to the coat. sound good?"

"got it, captain," san nods. "how many do you need?"

"i don't know yet," you make a face. "you're a big guy."

"i'm just so strong," san rolls his eyes, flexing a little bit as he does.

"stop that," you laugh. "get to work. you want music on?"

"yeah, whatever you wanna listen to," san says as he straightens the fabric. you watch as he measures carefully, taking the fabric cutter over the material slowly. he holds up his first strip, looking to you for approval. "is this good?"

"perfect," you tell him. "now make like a thousand more."

"what are you gonna do while i work, hm?" san asks. "i've got a lot to do and you're just gonna watch me?"

"gotta make sure you're doing it right," you reply. "but i need to pack up some of these other pieces, they're getting shipped to the venue in the morning. my least favorite part of the job."

"how many shows have you done now?" san asks, and you fall into comfortable conversation with him while you work. you get most of the collection packed up before you know it, so you walk over to his table to check on his progress.

"not bad for a model," you say as you inspect the pieces. "you could make a mean designer's assistant."

"you in the market for one?" san asks, and you notice how close you are. he's a little taller than you, so all you'd have to do is stand on your toes and- "what are you thinking about?"

"what?" you whisper, taking a step back. san's hand catches your waist, holding you in place.

"what were you thinking about, just now?" he asks again. "you were staring."

"you're a model, i'd expect you'd be used to everyone staring at you," you whisper back.

"you're not everyone," he says softly. his eyes flit down to your lips, and before you can think you lean in and kiss him. it's quick, barely a touch, but you kissed him, and his hand on your waist tightens. when you look up at him, he's blushing. "what was that for?"

"um, for helping me with your outfit?" you reply.

"anything else you need my help with?" san smirks.

"san, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that," you whisper.

"yeah, you pulled back too quickly," he pouts.

"no," you laugh shyly. "no, um, i have a rule that i don't mess around with my models."

"got it," san sighs. "bummer, but i understand."

"i should start shredding these," you say, grabbing a pile of fabric. san's still holding onto you though, so you look at him expectantly. "you gonna let me go?"

"you don't mess with models, ever?" san asks. "or is it just models that are working for you?"

"um, the second one," you think. "but san-"

"then we'll talk about this again when the show is over," san says with finality. "i don't mind waiting."

"as long as you can keep things professional," you tell him.

"says the one who kissed me," san teases.

"whatever," you roll your eyes. "i'm gonna go work on the jacket."

"um, do you think these are enough strips for now?" san asks sheepishly. "i actually have to leave for an audition..."

"my god," you look at the time. "please, go. i'm sorry i kept you for so long."

"i'll come back when i'm done," san says like it's nothing. "i don't really want this show anyway, but my agent booked it, so i have to go."

"that's good to hear," you mumble. "because i don't like sharing."

"make sure you take a break while i'm gone," san points at you accusingly.

"go to your audition," you say as you walk to your office. "i'll be here when you get back."

-

san thinks about you the whole time he's gone. he breezes through the audition and gets an offer before he leaves, but after being in your show this designer seems scattered, unprofessional, and just not as good as you. his collection is fine, but it's nothing impressive. san can't wait to get back to your studio and see the progress on your coat, but when he knocks at the door there's no response. he waits, tries again, and still nothing. he tries the door and it opens easily, so san wanders in calling out your name. he doesn't see you in the work room, but there's a light on in your office.

"y/n?" he calls, stopping at the door when he sees you slumped over your desk, snoring softly. he looks at the mannequin next to you and lets out a gasp. it's more dramatic now with more fabric, and san thinks briefly it'll be even heavier to wear. he doesn't care though. right now, he's more concerned about getting you to someplace you can rest.

"you're back," you mumble, sitting up as you rub your eyes. "i fell asleep."

"i see that," san chuckles. he walks over to you and holds his arms out. "come on, we gotta get you home."

"what are you doing?" you ask, letting out a shriek when san picks you up. you hit his back weakly, but he carries you out of your office, through your studio, turning lights off as he goes.

"where's your bag?" san asks. you point and he carries you still, handing your things to you before doing a sweep of the studio. "ready to go?"

"where are we going?" you mumble into his shoulder. "i was sleeping just fine-"

"i'm taking you home," san says. "you need to sleep in a bed. not hunched over your desk."

"why are you being so nice to me?" you whisper as you nuzzle into him further. he doesn't reply, but you wouldn't hear it anyway. you drift off in his arms, only waking up when san slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

"you know how to get home from here, sleepyhead?" san asks as he ruffles your hair. you type your address into your phone, handing it to him before he closes the door carefully to rush to the driver's side. he laughs nervously when he sits down and finds you staring, so he asks, "what? too much?"

"i really want to kiss you again," you admit.

"but you can't," san coos. "remember your silly rules?"

"hmph, i was gonna say screw my rules, but then you made fun of me, so-"

"no, no i take it back!" san cries, but you turn and lay your head against the window. you smile to yourself as san begs you to turn back around, giggling as he tugs on your arm. you pretend to snore and san gives up, but his hand has moved from tugging your arm to just holding your hand. you stay like that the whole way home.

-

the runway show is tomorrow. you still aren't done with san's jacket. and you still aren't sure what to do since you kissed him. jen has ideas, though.

"climb him like a tree," she tells you for the nth time as she helps you unpack outfits at the venue. "he sooo wants you. and you sooo want him."

"doesn't matter who wants who," you mumble as you try to hold at least three pins by your teeth. you're securing a new zipper to your favorite dress. it wouldn't be a runway show without things falling apart last minute, and you could have punched a wall when you unpacked this dress to find the zipper literally holding on by a thread.

"the show is tomorrow, y/n," jen says sternly. "you can't hide behind your silly 'no models' rule for much longer."

"i won't," you assure her. she looks at you surprised, but she can't ask any follow ups because there are voices coming from the entrance.

"hello?" seonghwa calls out. you yell back that you're backstage, and when he appears he immediately finds jen to pull her into a hug.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him. "you don't have a fitting today."

"i brought him for moral support," san says from behind you. he's so close, and you didn't hear him come up, so it makes you jump. his hands fly to your waist, trying to soothe you, but the touch makes you jump too. "why are you so skittish?"

"i'm stressed," you respond, stepping away so you can find his coat. you look over your shoulder as you tell him, "the jacket still isn't done."

"what?" he whines. "do i need to tear more fabric?"

"no," you laugh. "just come here." he joins you further among the mess that is your collection, following closely behind you through the maze of clothing racks. you stop by his mannequin, turning to find him still incredibly close to you. "it just needs a clasp. as long as you didn't get broader over night."

"no promises," he smirks before pulling his shirt off. "can you help me get it on?"

"you've never needed my help before," you frown as you try avoid staring at his chest.

"yeah well, it's like ten pounds heavier now," san says. "and i'm just so weak..."

"bullshit," you laugh, helping him lift the coat anyway. you hold one side for him while he slips his arm in, then help him hold onto the other. "ok, stay here." you scurry off to get your sewing kit, and san finds jen's gaze through the clothes. she gives him a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, and he stifles a laugh as you come back. you're holding more pins between your teeth, and san cries out. "what?"

"that can't be safe," he says as he reaches for one, but ends up pricking himself. "ouch."

"no touching," you mumble. "and hold the jacket like this." you guide his hands to hold the coat in place, and san watches intently as you work. you have to hand sew extra buttons on to support the new weight, so it takes a while. san tries to talk to you, but he's so worried about the pins in your mouth he can't focus.

"let me hold these," he grumbles, carefully pulling a pin from your lips. he takes the rest and cups them in his hand, accidentally pricking himself again. "ouch."

"that's what you get," you laugh. "you didn't have to hold them for me, i'm an expert at this by now."

"yeah, but if you had pins in your mouth, i couldn't do this," san says as he uses his free hand to cup your chin. he looks down at you with a smile before he kisses you. he kisses you and holds you against him, his lips so soft on yours. you sigh into the kiss, lost in the feeling of having him so close to you. you can feel his heart beating in his chest, and your hand that had been gripping the coat falls to his warm skin. you push him away, a little gasp on your lips when it hits you what's happened.

"what happened to being ok with waiting?" you ask him, and his head falls to your neck, leaving one kiss against your skin before he pulls back.

"i forgot," he whispers.

"well remember at least until i finish these buttons," you tell him.

"and then what?"

"then you gotta show me your walk," you say. the way you look up at him makes san want to kiss you again, but he does his best to refrain. you hold your hand out for the pins, and you put them back in your sewing kit as you say, "in a few minutes, your coat will finally be done."

"can't wait," san hums, his hands back to holding the jacket in place. "but i admit i'll miss having a reason for you to be so close to me."

"i'm sure you'll find more," you mumble, focusing on the last button. when it's sturdy enough to hold weight, you try securing the jacket together just enough for it to stay on san's shoulders. "hands off," you instruct, and san moves his hands from the coat to your shoulders. "hands to yourself."

"aw," he pouts. you start to walk away and he follows, but you tell him to stay put.

"stay there, then walk toward me," you direct him. "i wanna see how it moves now."

"you want me to go full model mode?" san asks. "can you handle it?"

"just show me," you groan, and the cocky grin on san's face should've warned you. it's like he changes into another person, his demeanor completely different. you realize now that the san you know is not model san, because the man before you is...intimidating? you almost back up as he walks toward you, his gait powerful and his stare petrifying. everything is so dramatic and the movement matches the coat perfectly. he still winks at you as he comes closer and turns, moving the coat so each layer of fabric, each shred explodes into an arc before you. san finishes his walk, turning over his shoulder with a shy smile on his face. he's back to the san you know as he asks, "how was that?"

"you're perfect," you stammer out, mimicking your words from the first time san walked for you. "for the collection. for this piece. everything. this is exactly what i imagined."

"good," his smile widens. "and the weight isn't too bad. it's distributed better now."

"good," you cough, trying to calm yourself down. watching that made everything real to you. this show is happening tomorrow. your nerves are hitting you now, and san can tell.

"are you ok?" he asks, rushing to your aide. he looks like he's going to pull you into a hug when you hear jen calling for you somewhere, and you disappear before san gets a chance.

-

the hours leading up to the show are a blur. in the hours leading up to the show, you are a blur. you don't stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. there's just so much for you to do, so many people to talk to, and so many people that need your help. a stylist asking your opinion. a model with loose threads down her back. a man with pleading eyes that you know is watching you from afar, ready to jump in if you collapse from nerves, or exhaustion, or both. you find jen at the accessories table, helping a model find bangles that won't fall off her arm as she walks. you grab onto jen, leaning in closely to rest your head against hers.

"i'm so tired," you whine. "and scared. and sweaty."

"ew, then get off me," jen pushes you away playfully. she finishes up with the model and sends her away before asking, "are you ok though? really?"

"why did i think dressing san without a shirt would be a good idea?" you whisper to her, watching him as he laughs with seonghwa about something. it's like he can feel your eyes on him, because he looks toward you and winks.

"because it is a good idea," jen says. "and he's not gonna be shirtless for long. you need to go help him into the coat, the show's about to start."

"shit," you curse, checking the time. "i have so much to do-"

"wait!" jen shouts, holding you in place. "something's missing."

"my will to go on?"

"no, you need lipstick," jen decides. she digs into the bag at her hip and finds the perfect pink shade for you. it matches your dress (that you designed) and it matches the warm pinks that you sprinkled into the collection. "there. you're ready."

"no i'm not," you mumble. "i didn't get to practice my welcome speech."

"go practice it with san!" jen pushes you in his direction. "five minutes!"

your palms get sweaty the closer you get to san. you're not sure if it's him, or the running countdown in your head reminding you that your show is about to happen. when you finally make it to san, he's alone, and he's smiling at you nervously.

"time for the coat?" he asks. you nod, and he follows you to the mannequin in the back. "how do you feel?"

"like i'm gonna pass out."

"i'll catch you," san jokes.

"arms up please," you squeak out. he helps you lift the coat silently, sliding into it like it's the most comfortable thing in the world. "and just let me secure it..."

"y/n," san whispers. "look at me." you don't listen, fussing over the buttons instead. you're smoothing out the warm pink fabric as san's hands cover yours, stilling them over his chest. "breathe for a second."

"i'm freaking out," you admit, looking up at him. "i have to go out there, and do a speech, and then watch my clothes, my life for the past year, all be judged by these strangers, and-"

"and you've done it before, and you survived," san smiles softly. "you're pretty great at this, in case you didn't know."

"but-"

"nope," he shakes his head. "it'll be great."

"it will," you say unsurely.

"say it like you mean it."

"the show will be great," you declare, and san squeezes your hands before he lets them go.

"and then after the show..." san trails off, and you feel your heart start to race. "i don't know, maybe i could take you out to celebrate?"

"san, i can't think about that right now," you shake your head. "i can't-"

the stage manager starts calling out models for the line up, and san looks away sadly. he nods like he's got his answer and starts to walk away, but you pull him back. you don't say anything, just cup his chin and leave a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"we'll talk after the show," you whisper. the stage manager calls for him again, and he looks at you one more time before he leaves. you let out a nervous breath, checking your reflection in the vanity next to you. it's now or never. you walk up to the side of the stage, and your heart drops to your ass. something is wrong.

"what's going on?" you hiss, walking up to find make up artists swarming san. "this can't be happening."

"you did this," one of the artists whisper shouts back, pointing to san's cheek. fuck. the lipstick. your lipstick left a bright pink mark on his skin. "we don't have time to fix it!"

"then don't," san shrugs. "i like it."

"y/n?" the stage manager looks at you. "we have one minute. are we fixing this?"

"uh, n-no," you stammer, and the crowd disperses, leaving you and san again. "here, i can wipe it-"

"don't," san swats your hands away. "now i'll have a piece of you with me while i walk."

"you're wearing my clothes, you already had a piece of me with you," you tell him.

"yeah, but this one's just for me," he smiles. "plus the lipstick matches my jacket."

"y/n, you're on!" jen grabs you, a gleeful look on her face. "oh, your lipstick is smudged."

"i don't know how you planned that, but i hate you for it," you say as you try to hide your smile.

"i just thought it would be a cute touch for photos later," she smiles as she fixes the smudge and reapplies more. "i didn't know you'd go around kissing him, marking your territory."

"that's not what i did," you blush.

"we don't have time to argue about this," she pushes you toward the stage entrance. "go be great!"

-

you're able to introduce the collection without tripping or fumbling over your words, so you'll call that a win. even bigger win: the collection is a hit. each piece got the reaction you wanted, but the show stopper was definitely san. the crowd hushed when he walked out, and they went wild when he got to the end of the runway with his flourish move he showed you the other night. as you watch the show backstage, you blush when you see the lipstick mark shining under the bright lights.

it ends up being a hit, almost as much as the coat itself. fashion bloggers lauded it as a perfect touch, basically sealing the collection with a kiss. they also speculated about your relationship with san, which certainly wasn't helped by the fact that he held your hand tightly in his as the collection walked the runway all together. san lifted your hand in triumph as you made it to the end of the stage, and he lets go, stepping back so you can have your moment. you soak it in as long as you can take, then scurry back to his side and grab his hand as you run backstage. he lifts you into a hug as soon as the curtain closes behind you, surrounded by cheers and models talking about how great the show was.

"put me down!" you squeal, swatting at san's chest so he'll let you go. "i need to talk to everybody."

"you can do it from up there," san says. you don't think you'll win this one, and he's right. it might be easier to address your models and your team from a few inches higher up.

"first of all, thank you," you say sincerely. "i wouldn't have a show without you all, and i had the best show because of you all. so thank you. if i could make you all vow to only ever work with me forever until the end of time, i would, but that's not ethical. so instead i'll say: you all have a spot in any show i do for the rest of my career. thank you. thankyouthankyouthankyou."

the crowd thins out as models get undressed, artists pack up their things, and the stage crew follows everyone around to remind them to clean up after themselves. miraculously, you and san are alone again.

"so," he hums. "i walked good?"

"you didn't trip," you nod.

"everyone loved it," san smiles.

"they loved you," you say, busying yourself with straightening the coat again.

"all i care about is what you thought."

"i've told you already," you start. "you're perfect."

"you say that, but earlier i think you were about to turn me down," san laughs nervously.

"what?" you're confused. "oh, i didn't finish. i was gonna say i can't go out with you tonight, but i'm free tomorrow."

"tomorrow? you'd make me wait so long?" san smirks.

"i have a business dinner to go to tonight," you explain. "so unless you wanna be my arm candy for the people who sponsored the show, then yes, you have to wait so long."

"i'm good at being arm candy," san says. "it's basically my job."

"fine," you shrug. "then put a shirt on and come with me?"

[bbokicidal]

OT8 as 'First Encounters' | OT8 SKZ

Notes : The SKZ members as romance trope-type first encounters. It's hard to explain, but read and you'll see what I mean. (I'm actually super excited to write this.)

These are going to be short because they're just your first encounters - nothing more. But if you're interested in a part two for someone, let me know!

Warnings : None, just fluff. :) (Mildly suggestive content in Hyunjin's.) Genre : Fluff Pairing : SKZ OT8 (Individually) x Reader

Bangchan - Meeting in a cafe

You'd been there just to get your morning coffee when you'd crossed paths with a man you hadn't seen there before. Usually you were within ten minutes of each other when it came to popping in for your early morning drink but you'd never actually seen each other or knew the other existed. This morning however, you physically bumped into him when slipping past as your drink was called. He apologized, looking up from his phone to spare you a soft smile. His eyes trailed after you as you grabbed your drink, brushing by once more to leave the coffee shop. A simple meeting but memorable, for him at least.

Lee Know - Bumping into each other in class

Chemistry was, as of right now, the greatest of your burdens. But after accidentally bumping bags with a cute older boy you'd never really noticed before (and exchanging quick and shy glances to each other in silent apology), class didn't seem so awful every Thursday.

Not when you got to ogle him from your seat behind and kitty-corner to his own. Even though the view was three quarters the side of his head, he was still oh-so-pretty. (And oh-so-gay.)

Changbin - Meeting each other on the subway

Work was awful and the commute never softened the blow. Taking the subway was shit, as per usual, but there were some days - like today - where it wasn't as awful.

Standing in an all too-crammed car in a pair of heels and a tight pencil skirt you just had to wear for your stupid office job, a man sitting adjacent to you along the bench had taken notice of your stumbling sway and uncomfortable expression at the men beside and behind you. So he stood, offering you his seat in return, and with a thankful nod and smile, you take the offer up gratefully.

And ogle his arm when he lifts it to hold onto the handle where he now stands.

Hyunjin - Approaching each other at the bar

Never really one to go out of his way to talk to others because of his naturally shy nature, especially when it came to beautiful women, Hyunjin wasn't sure what it was that made him so drawn to you - and so boldly, at that.

You'd accepted his charming advances and the way he leaned on the bar, drink in hand and eyes glossy with already consumed alcohol. You'd listened to him go on about how he'd seen you from across the bar and thought you to be oh-so-beautiful, exquisite in his words, and how he just had to come over to introduce himself and shoot his shot. You'd let him sweet talk his way into your head - and your bed later that night.

Han - Meeting in the pharmacy

A man visiting to pick up his anxiety medication for the first time and a woman working her first shift on the job, the two of you seemed to get along because of your socially awkward demeanors and shy exchange in conversation. Looking at his ID and then passing him a small bag with a bottle of pills inside, he'd bowed his head politely and given you the shyest smile you'd seen to date.

And as he left the pharmacy with a heavy heart and a newfound adoration for the girl working behind the thin glass window, he'd forgotten to sneak a peek at your name plate sitting afront the glass. Shame - He'd just have to stop by again. (Not that he had a choice.)

Felix - Meeting during a bad first date

Sitting alone and sipping from a glass of a bitter and heavy red wine, a man with long blonde hair slides carefully into the seat across from you. He certainly wasn't the man you were waiting on - though, you shouldn't be complaining.

"I saw you sitting alone, figured you might want some company." He charms, smile amused but bright, calming and comforting to your lonely heart. When you nod and hum out in pleasant surprise, he takes it as a welcoming of him sitting in your no-show-date's seat and promptly flips open the menu sitting amongst the table. "Now, what are we having?~"

Seungmin - Meeting at a bus stop in the rain

You'd seen him before, though never bothered to exchange conversation. You got on at the same time each morning, the tall and handsome brunette at your side each day until you departed from the bus an hour later at your workplace.

This morning was like no other, until you arrived at the stop. The brunette was nowhere to be seen and as the rain poured down, you stood in defeat waiting for the bus to arrive. With hair slick to your cheeks and clothes drenched and heavy, the rain suddenly stops meeting your shoulders as a shadow appears overtop of your head. You peek up to see it's the brunette from every morning, holding a blue umbrella above the two of you. You look back ahead, cheeks rosy with heat, missing the way his lips quirk upward into a knowing (but adoring) smirk.

I.N - Meeting during Trivia Night

Trivia Night during college was probably one of the more 'loser' things to do around campus, but you were determined to find a club and hobby - and this was the easiest to pick. Alas, the group who agreed to go with you all bailed last minute, and you ended up alone at the massive table that should seat 10 people.

The MC of the night turns to point at you, exclaiming you wouldn't be able to play without a group, and a boy just a tad younger than you abruptly stands nearby to shout. "Get over here!" The boys surrounding his table gesture excitedly and you fumble to take a seat with them, unable to help the way your heart swells at the youngest's excitement and grandeur at having you now on their team.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Riding a Vaquero. || Alejandro Vargas

Rating: E Words: 2.4K~ Pairing: Alejandro x F!Reader CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. crack + smut, piv (protected), oral sex (m!receiving), throat fucking, cumming (f! and m!), swallowing cum, praise? ('that's it'), Spanish terms of endearment (nena, mamacita, vaquerita + caballito). other tags: crack, one night stand, dating app, flirting, roasting/mockery/slander of Alejandro. summary: You meet Alejandro on a dating app. Despite roasting the crap out of him he still lets you ride him :) a/n: Inspired by my "It's a Match!" fic... but very loosely and also it's so much fucking worse. + Thank you to @loveandplanet for helping me write this because I was struggling, my goodness.

Friday night. 5:30 PM.

You just got home from work and threw yourself on the couch before even making yourself dinner.

You're tired and bored and sort of... lonely.

The perfect cocktail of emotions to make you dip a toe back into the dark, cesspool of a lake that is the only dating app you keep on your phone: Tinder.

Slowly, you begin swiping away on the pictures of men on your screen.

Most of them are gym bros, there's a few nerds... You're pretty sure they're great, they seem it, you're sure they'd offer wonderful company and conversation over a quick meal...

But for the sake of what you're looking for, they might as well have a sign stamped on their face reading "[ Boring ]".

Boring. Boring. Boring.

That's when you see him.

Alejandro.

A handsome man, older, with crow's feet, and deep laugh lines, and a broad nose, and a bit of grey already creeping onto his beard... or maybe it's just the lighting? Either way, he looks... delicious.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

A soldier, originally from Las Almas... 6ft tall... And a good cook... Looks like you've just caught yourself a two-in-one... A dinner and... if his bio is anything to go off of, a one night stand.

Although that bio...

You find yourself swiping right and in an instant, your phone displays a 'It's a Match!' screen, signalling that he liked you back.

You open your DM with him and carefully type a message:

you:

"Do you know your bio has a typo? You wrote horse twice."

His reply was surprisingly quick, almost like he was already in the DM screen as well, waiting for you to reply:

Alejandro:

"I know. I did it on purpose so people would DM me to correct me." "Pretty sure it increased the amount of women reaching out to me." "Women like you."

Cocking a brow, you can't help but scoff. Of course, he uses that typo as an ice-breaker!

No wonder he answered so quick! He was already anticipating you'd call his attention to his typo...

Sitting up on the couch again, you shift your weight and sit into a more focused position, leaning forward, before you type out an answer.

It has to be witty. It has to be funny. It has to catch him off guard...

...

you:

"That explains it." "And now that I got that out of the way..." "Is your forehead really that big or is it just the angle?"

You set your phone down on the coffee table in front of you and bite your lip, hoping that your comment wouldn't have pushed him too far...

A couple of new messages pop onto the left side of the screen in a row, causing you to lean forward to read them.

Alejandro:

"Excuse me?" "I bet you wouldn't say that to my face."

Trying not to giggle, you carefully grab the phone and type another reply:

you:

"More like say it to your forehead you mean?"

You wonder if you're going too far.

He's the first and only interesting guy you've found on Tinder today, the only one that you didn't deem boring upon one glance of their face and bio...

What are you even doing, making fun of him like this?

What if that just causes him to unmatch and block you?

What if-

Alejandro:

"I've never in my entire life been spoken to like this." "Other than when I was a boy pissing off my sisters." "And I hate to say that I sort of like it."

Your eyebrows raise and your eyes widen, feeling like you somehow just caught the biggest fish in the lake by blindly throwing in the lure and reeling it back out when you decided you should.

Sheer fucking luck.

you:

"I have more of those if you'd like." "Can keep going all night just making fun of you."

He paused again for a moment before replying with:

Alejandro:

"And you wouldn't run out of things to say?"

you:

"I'm sure I wouldn't."

Alejandro:

"And what would I have to give you in return for this to happen?"

you:

"Cook me dinner?"

Alejandro:

"Sounds like this was all a ploy to taste my food."

Taking a deep breath, you look around your room aimlessly, trying to hold back from saying the first thought that popped into your mind at reading that message...

But you can't help it.

And, hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

you:

"Maybe it's not just the food I'm planning on tasting."

Alejandro:

"Oh." "Maybe I'd like that."

you:

"Doesn't scare you?"

You almost patted yourself on the back for making a joke about his profile's stupid little 'if you think you're into something that scares me' line.

Alejandro:

"I'm an army colonel. Of course it doesn't scare me." "It just intrigues me." "You sure do look like you're starving. Who am I to deny you?"

Stifling a scoff and a bit of a groan, you reply with:

you:

"That line sounded straight out of a porno."

Alejandro:

"Haven't even cooked you dinner and you're beginning with the insults?" "You don't waste any time, huh?"

you:

"No and neither should you."

Alejandro:

"Then how about you let me cook you dinner right now?" "No stalling or wasting any more time."

Biting back a smirk, you shake your head in amusement.

you:

"Sounds good to me." "Address?"

-

"I was right, wasn't I, nena [babygirl]?" Alejandro asks as he looks down at you as you crouch before him in his kitchen.

You look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, muffled sounds escaping your lips as you keep your mouth stuffed with his cock.

"That's right... You really were starving..." He cooed as he looked down at you, his voice carrying a pleasant growl and gravel to it.

Your head is pressed nicely against the cupboards of his kitchen, as he carefully prepares pico de gallo for the tacos he's making the two of you for dinner.

You hadn't expected to end up in this position so soon after driving up to his house, a small 1-store casita with wooden frames and details and a wonderful little tiled patio out back.

You had expected some flirting, some jokes, you roasting him...

Instead, you had somehow ended up pressed against the kitchen counter with his tongue deep in your mouth and his hand up your shirt, fondling one of your breasts...

And now, here you were, perched on your own heels, with his big cock slowly and repeatedly bruising the back of your throat as you moaned softly around it... While he cooks dinner for the both of you like nothing's happening.

It's almost infuriating, how calm he seems, how he looks down at you with those stunning brown eyes of his, and a smug little smirk on his lips...

And yet, he also looks absolutely breathtaking, standing there in a charcoal grey button-up, the first few buttons popped open to reveal a generous speckling of chest hair and a golden crucifix and a few other chains resting over his pecs…

And the way the sweat pools on his brow, and slips down the side of his robust neck, and disappears under his collar…

The light of the setting sun, warm and orange toned, filters through the windows and illuminates his small home, warming it, and reflecting off his sweat, and shining so bright on him.

It almost doesn't get better than this... letting him fuck your throat against the cupboard while he cooks you a meal which, by the scent, will be delicious, proving he wasn't lying about being a good cook...

Setting your hand on his hip, you tap your fingers on his lower back, gesturing him to go deeper into your mouth.

He picks up on the signal and thrusts harder into your mouth, causing you to choke and gurgle around his large shaft, some saliva slowly slipping down the length and disappearing in the generous bush of hair at the base.

"Mmmm, you like when I make you choke, huh?" He coos as he wipes one of his hands on a tea towel and then grips your hair, protecting your head from bouncing back on the hard wood of the cabinet.

Then, his other hand holds onto the edge of the counter, fingers curling and tightening around it, to keep him upright, before he starts thrusting more decisively into your mouth.

Your eyes roll in delight as he bullies his way deep into your mouth in a more consistent and violent pace, his own head falling back and allowing him to grunt and groan as your throat tightens and constricts around him.

"¡Ay carajo! [Ah, fuck!]" Alejandro groans as he pulls your head closer to his crotch, burying your nose in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, keeping the tip buried deep inside your mouth.

Sputtering and gurgling around him, your hands find a perch on his hip, on either side, but, rather than pulling him off, you hold onto him, close and against you, your nails digging into the muscles of his ass cheeks through the fabric of his jeans.

Your tongue laps up at the underside of his cock just as it begins to throb, Alejandro groans above you, leaning his head on the upper cabinets as he slowly floods your mouth with his tangy cum, which slowly slides down your throat as you make an effort to swallow around him.

With a long exhale, Alejandro licks his lips and looks down at you as he slowly pulls his softening cock from your mouth, letting you finally catch a proper breath too.

"Your mouth is very talented, mamacita." He compliments you, a smirk already forming on his lips again, his hand reaching down to help you wipe some drool off your chin.

"Thank you." You reply with a chuckle and push yourself up to your feet, side stepping him as he tucks himself back into his jeans and resumes making you dinner.

"So... What were you saying about having a lot more insults to tell me?" He quips and smirks at you.

"Well, first of all, I could still see your forehead from all the way down there,"

-

You break the kiss in favor of carefully rocking back and forth on his dick, buried balls deep within your slick cunt.

His large hands grip onto your hip and thighs to continue moving you atop him, making your clit grinding against his pubic hair in a way that made you squirm and whine.

His head is leaning back on the back of his couch as he watches you make yourself feel good, overstimulating your sensitive clit with the help of the coarse hair on his pelvis, and feeling the tip of his slightly curved cock rub against your g-spot.

"You like that, hm, vaquerita [little cowgirl]?" He coos at you, as your head dips back and you moan softly, before bouncing up on his cock for a moment and sinking all the way down, drawing louder groans out of you both.

It's a surprisingly slow fucking session, probably because of your bellies are full and warm with the recent meal, and you just sort of stumbled your way onto the couch afterward, for a make-out session that turned to slow, lazy sex.

Leaning against Alejandro in the low sunlight as the afternoon turns into evening and the sun sets through the window, you rock your hips against his again and again.

Your lips find his for what must be the 50th time tonight. Your tongues intertwine as you huff and moan into his mouth, his fingers digging your thighs as he squeezes you down and rubs you onto him, back and forth.

Breaking the kiss, you set your head down on his shoulder. It's almost too intimate for a first time, but it's strangely nice. His skin feels nice and warm against you, albeit a bit dewy with sweat.

Your eyes look up at him as he relaxes his head back and grunts softly, continuing to guide your hip back and forth on his, to seek out extra friction for you both, and murmuring incoherent Spanish curses and words of praise.

Slowly, you find yourself leaning forward and lick a stripe up his neck toward his stubble-speckled jawline, feeling the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue, as, even now, he's still producing more and more little droplets that slide tantalizingly slowly down his tan skin.

Then, you lick across the bottom of his jaw and around to the back of it, then, your head lowers and you lick another stripe up his neck. Alejandro reacts the same every single time, with a soft shudder and a grunt, throwing his hips up into yours.

"Oh you like that, huh, vaquero [cowboy]?" You tease him this time, using his own words against him.

The look Alejandro shoots you at that quip makes it clear he didn't appreciate your sarcasm... What a shame.

You lean back, your hands coming to rest on his thighs behind you, before you start bouncing in fervor. It drives a groan out of him, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

His left hand goes to your waist to steady you while he brings his other hand up to your lower stomach, pressing down onto it and allowing him to feel himself through your walls.

His thumb finds its way to your clit, rubbing it side to side, as you continue carefully and steadily bouncing off his lap, his own thighs having stiffened and raised to allow you and easier time.

The slaps of your ass and his thighs meeting echos throughout the living room, along with the sounds of your and Alejandro's moans.

It's a slow build-up, the both of you too lazy to actually put in too much effort into chasing your orgasm, but, steadily, and with Alejandro's thumb consistently rubbing against your clit, you find yourself reaching your peak.

Alejandro watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, leaning back against the couch and a stupid smirk painted on his lips, seeming so smug over the fact he got you to fall apart on his cock...

Only to watch you dismount from him and take a seat beside him on the couch, your body feeling too hot and tired to even remain in touch with any part of his.

His smirk vanishes and he cocks a brow, giving you a silent, judgmental look, as if asking 'What are you doing? Get back here.'.

And his face downright settles into a scowl when you mirror him by raising your own brow and ask him "You're a colonel, you've got this, right? You don't need my help.".

And, with an extra little impish smile you add, "Don't be scared, I believe in you, caballito [horsie]!"

for @lyralein , so you stop fucking bullying me because I "never write Alejandro" or whatever 🫶

[bunnyyamor]

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ shower sex

having simon away for so many months has made u lonely and miss him. but all of a sudden; he’s home, tired and exhausted. u know exactly how to make him relaxed.

simon “ghost” riley x f!reader ୨୧ ꒰ nsfw...mdni ꒱ male masturbation, shower sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, cock play, breast play, touch starved and feral simon, pet-names

pls comment + like + reblog; i would rlly appreciate it (๑˘︶˘๑)

you stared out the window, sipping coffee in your sweater as you reminisced on memories of you and your simon. your eyes landed on a tree, sensing the wind picking up. you loved simon but loving him was hard and you knew he struggled as well. lovers were meant to be together, to see each other, holding, kissing, conversing. you missed that when he was gone and you knew he missed you too from letters and just knowing simon so well. you knew he was doing what was best, fighting, he was the one sacrificing but you felt you were sacrificing as well. you were sacrificing your man, sacrificing the feeling of always, all the time being comforted. instead, you embraced loneliness as your friend. and yet all of those ups and downs, you still needed simon, you still wanted to be his girl. you didn’t want it any other way.

you fogged up the window and drew a heart on it, putting your initials and simon’s. “i miss my baby.” you pouted as you took your phone out and saw the wallpaper on it was you kissing his cheek. he was so rough around the edges and you were his escape. your personality was sweet, happy go lucky, that is probably why you two meshed so well together. you were the misses that brought him back down to earth, that made him feel safe, loved. he was the bull and you were the china shop. 

“hopefully daddy can be here soon,” you patted your puppies ears. every time you saw your dog you saw simon because simon had him trained so he would protect you when he was gone. 

simon was said to be back in a couple months. for some reason that seemed like years to your ears. you were always wanting that maybe he could get back sooner, the door opening to him all dirty, dusty, needing a shower but here, present. 

outside was finally raining. it was a gloomy day and for some reason that made you feel more alone. “i sometimes hate the fuckin rain.” you muttered. you thought about what you said and laughed out loud to yourself. boy did you sound like your man. he was rubbing off on you already. 

you read the time and saw it was getting late. you still needed to shower and do your 10-step skin care routine. the memory of simon teasing you about your steps made you smile. how you missed your brit. you wrapped yourself in your sweater and was about to head into your room when you heard the door to your home creak. the doorknob jiggling. your dog ran straight for the door, making sure you were behind him as he barked non-stop. the person at the door wouldn’t stop. if this was someone trying to sell something or a stranger they wouldn’t be so persistent on getting in. quickly you head to your wardrobe and from the drawer you retrieve your handgun. simon had gifted it to you a couple months into you two dating. legs apart, gun pointed straight for the door, you waited for the intruder to get in. they were about to have a bullet between their eyes and meet their maker. 

finally, the door opened, and in quickly stepped-

“simon?” you questioned. 

simon wiped his boots on your welcome mat, he was drenched from the rain. his eyes hadn't met yours yet but when they did you could tell he was smiling under his balaclava from the way his eyes crinkled. “good girl.” his voice sounded tired. 

“oh baby,” you dropped your gun and ran to him. everytime he came home you cried. cried that he was safe and really in your arms. simon always said you were very emotional. even though simon was tired he still accepted your running form and picked you up in his arms. “hello, love.”

“i missed you.” you embraced him, not caring if he smelled of sweat and dirt. you kissed his masked covered cheek. then, gently, you lifted it up and took it off him. to think you were the few people to see his beautiful face. his eyes softened. you could tell there were so many things he wanted to say but there wouldn’t be enough time. “i’ve missed you more, baby.”

your clean, soft hands caressed his stubble that was growing perhaps because of the length of the trip back home. your plump lips landed on his rough ones. it felt so perfect kissing him. something you were missing was finally here again. you didn’t want to ever stop kissing him. you wanted him to truly know how much you loved him. you wrapped your hands around his head to deepen the kiss. your tongue lightly licked his lips and you felt a pinch on your side. “oww,” you chuckled, knowing what simon was talking about. 

“naughty girl,” he growled, making you throw your head back in laughter. “you know what you do to me.”

“you’ve been a good boy right?” you joked, hopping out of his arms and leading him back to the room. 

“if you’re asking if i’ve cheated on you, my love, the answers no. i couldn’t, haven’t gotten the time.”

your smile disappeared and instead you wore a scowl. “ha ha very funny,” rolling your eyes. 

simon smirked as he gave a deep chuckle, “i knew you would get mad. i like seeing you lose your temper.”

“yeah, don’t have much patience nowadays. besides, i get grumpy if someone were to touch my man.”

“don’t worry, darling. i’m all yours.” 

you felt this happiness deep within your heart. the whole that was there when he left was filled now just seeing him. you felt bad however to see him so tired. 

he stood before the mirror, ready to take his uniform off. 

“no babe. let me.” your eyes looked up at him through your lashes. “let me take care of you.” you immediately started to take off his boots, so gingerly. his eyes never left yours. it expressed so much love for you. he was a man of few words but his look said enough. he appreciated you and cherished you so much. 

you finally were to his uniform shirt. half lidded, having to feel his skin, you gently lifted it above his head. he always caught your breath. he was very fit, and had chest hair. you could feel your body warm up as his chest was inches away from your face. simon put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up. your eyes flashed to the scars he had on his chest. they made you worried because each had a story, a story that might have ended so differently. your nails delicately grazed each one. 

“it’s not as bad as it looks,” simon said jokingly. 

each deserved love. so you kissed one scar, then the next. eyes closed as you gave a peck to each scar. 

you noticed simon’s breathing was quickening and he was groaning. both of you were touch starved and were in need of each other. “fuck,” simon mumbled, as his head hung back. “i need you, love. i don’t know how long i can hold back.”

“i know, baby. i want to show you i appreciate all you do. let me take care of you. relax.” 

“that’s easier said than done. especially when you’re kissing me like that. you know how many nights i dreamed about you. nights where i wish i was between your thighs, or i was inside you. this feels like a dream right now.”

you kneeled down in front of his already excited cock. you could see the tent in his pants. “you poor thing. and that’s why i promise you, i’ll make sure you get me on the daily.” you winked. 

you got him to take his pants off so now he was just a dusty simon with his briefs on. you gulped at seeing his thick thighs. you loved to sit on that lap, they were so strong his legs, and made you weak. 

“eyes up here, darling.” simon raised a brow.

you stuck your tongue out. “i wasn’t looking at anything that wasn’t mine.”

“possessive aren’t we?” simon’s hands raised and caressed your hair. 

“now, since you haven’t had a proper, deserving shower in a while, with warm water. i am going to give you a bath, so get fully naked while i go put on some candles.”

“love, you don’t need to do all that. i just want you.” simon was almost begging. he loved how you were particular with detail and you wanted to do so much for him but he didn’t need none of that. he has been non-stop thinking about you. his hands made grabby hands for yours. 

“don’t worry. i’ll be quick.” you sprinted to the bathroom. putting a robe and soft comfortable matching pajamas that matched with yours on the counter for him. you put the candles on that smelled like vanilla and turned the shower on so it was warm for him. you played some slow, sensual music on alexa. “ok, this looks good!” you smiled big. 

you turned around to see simon leaning against the door frame. he was watching you the whole time. you felt a lump in your throat however when your eyes drooped down to his hanging cock. it was thick just like the rest of him. seeing him like this made you want to forever lock him up and never have to share him. 

“don’t worry. he misses you too.”

you licked your lips, simon always made you speechless. you opened the shower door for him. with a walk you always loved, so manly, he walked inside. you took a good look at his ass, thanking god he had cake. he was so fine! 

the moment his skin made contact with the warm water he groaned. all the black grime was dripping down his skin into the drain. little by little his skin was showing, clean. his eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling as his hands wandered all over his wet skin. your eyes widened, entranced. he noticed you were staring so he decided to play with you. his thick fingers wrapped around his cock, shaking it and stroking it. “fuck, i wish someone would help me out with this. any volunteers, love?”

you knocked out of the trance and rolled your eyes. “make room in there. i’m coming.”

“i was anticipating that.”

as you entered, fully naked, you walked into the water. shower head drenching your hair. you got wet first then got some soap that smelled like perfume. you knew that simon was watching so with an evil idea you lathered the body wash all around your breasts. each stroke causing them to jiggle. you rubbed circular motions around your nipples and picked each breast up cleaning under. you squished them together, really cleaning them. your could swear you heard him curse under his breath, “yeah, baby just like that. fuck me.”

you dragged the soap down to your pussy, playing with your lips. you then gathered that and went to your ass, spreading your ass apart, playing with each cheek. 

“mmmm,” you heard his grumble and heard him playing with his cock. you loved playing for him. 

you moaned as you bent over to reach your legs. you knew he was behind you , getting a good look at all of you. he thought you looked like a siren. your skin was wet and your hair was soaked. eyelashes thick from the water. you looked like a beautiful vision. you were his dream girl. 

he couldn't take it anymore. he needed to touch you. he put more of your body wash on his hands and stood skin to skin behind you. you felt on your ass his standing cock. it was sticky with pre-cum. “oh hi baby. i forgot you were here.”

“sure. i really don’t find it fair that your fingers are getting more action than me.”

you giggled but then it turned into a moan as his soapy hands reached to your breasts. “i’ll help you clean.”

“n-no. that’s my, job.” you bit your lip, trying not to let him take control as you wanted him to relax. 

“listen baby, i like pleasing my woman. let me.” he breathed into your ear as his fingers played with your nipples. pinching them and rolling the bud then dipping lower to your cunt. his thick middle finger delicately tickled between your lips. it was light but made you get excited. “even with this shower blasting on both of us, i can still feel how wet you are.”

“fuck,” you huffed. 

simon spread your pussy lips apart and traced your clit. rolling it then flicking it. “nnnn, simon. i-fuck-i want to make you feel good.”

simon couldn't take it anymore. he had been away from you for so long. he needed to be inside you.

he forcefully turned you around. the height difference was so much that he towered over you. his fingers cupped your cheeks as he dipped down to take your lips into his mouth. his tongue came out, lashing against yours and your teeth. 

“mmmm simon. fuck me.”

“i love you so much, darling.” simon said between kisses. “fuck, i don’t know what’d i do without you.”

you were on your tiptoes as your tongues fought. you licked the inside of his mouth. simon became feral, growling like an animal as he lifted you up by behind your knees. your legs against his head so you could not go anywhere and you were opened up for him. without even preparing yourself simon entered into you. you hadn't had him this whole time and no toy could equal up to his size so you felt your tightness being ripped. 

“good girl. i can tell this pussy missed me. it hasn’t had me in a while.” he chuckled.

“fuck me simon. oh fuck.” you breathed as he sunk into you. you slowly took him all the way in. you felt so full, missing him, missing each crevice and feeling of him. simon nodded as he lifted you back and then slammed into you again. “ahhhh. shit! mmmm feels s’good.”

your half lidded eyes saw his biceps strong, his muscles moving with each thrust. his tattoo entranced you. “ooh baby.” 

“that’s it doll. give it to me.” he grunted with each pounding. he lifted you up and down, his cock dragging inside you, wetting you each time. you felt each vein, felt him so fully inside you. his movements and making you bounce went faster each second. his balls coming up to slap your sensitive pussy. he was so strong to carry you and fuck you. you just held onto him, not able to move as you took each beating your sensitive pussy could handle. 

“you like that, darling?” simon gritted between his teeths. his forehead rested against yours as he switched and put you against the glass window. “that pussy taking all of me. what a good girl.”

“ugh, m’fuck! that’s it baby.” your arms came up to hold onto the glass. the feeling of the cold glass shooting up your back. both contrast of his hot body entering into you. simon grabbed onto your hands up high, pinning you against the glass as he powered inside you. non-stop, wanting you to scream on his cock. 

“ahhh simon, i’m not gonna be able to. i’m gonna fuckin cum!”

“ooh, you sound dirty. who taught you how to speak that way?” simon smirked, already knowing the answer. 

the way his cock angled to hit your g-spot. he reached so deep you thought you felt him in your stomach. his hips rolled with each thrust. you felt your pussy lips stretching to take more of him. his white cream producing more as it mixed with your juice. his cock dripping with your cum. it was making a white ring at the base of his cock. “fuckin shit. fuck, fuck, fuck. that’s it y/n, take my cock. take it all. i’m gonna fuckin cum.”

you held his head still and looked into his eyes, “fuckin cum for me simon. i want you to cum inside me. please fill me up, mmm.”

that’s all simon needed to hear. he was exhausted and just emptied inside of you. seeing his veins protruding from squeezing out his seed and hearing his hearty moan made you also come undone. he fucked you still as your pussy pulsed around him, clenching around his shaft as you came. your juices dripping down your legs. “fuck, baby.” you gave a tired smile. you were sore now and we're definitely going to feel it tomorrow. 

“you felt so good, darling. so tight for me.” simon kissed you again. 

“i don’t think i can walk,” you laughed as you tried but your legs were wobbly. 

simon stood behind you and held you still, holding you up. “i’ve missed you so much. i missed feeling you.” simon was vulnerable with you. his hands went around your torso from behind and kissed behind your neck. “i never want to leave you, my love.”

angel’s little words - this man literally makes my kitty into a knot like he has it purring. my mind is flooded w him and all that cake! It’s my first ghost fic so pls don’t hate me if u hate it ok! i was nervous to post about him bc idk if I got him correct but I did rlly enjoy writing him. Also bc he has so many edits of him w the song wine pon you by doja I wrote this w that song on repeat teehee.

[aphrogeneias]

Rockstar Eddie sending assistant reader secret admirer flowers maybe? Maybe it’s when they’re not touring, back in town for a bit.

Idk if that’s the vibe or not but I think it goes with the secret romance vibes

-💛

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader

warnings: yearning. a ton of yearning. tooth-rotting fluff.

You'd never been one to be sad on Valentine's Day.

If you weren't already in a relationship, you were working too much to even think about it. Life on the road didn't give you the luxury of going all out on holidays, for the most part.

It made you happy, though. To see everyone in the crew calling their girlfriends and wives, planning dates for when they see each other next, sending them a letter in the mail, signed with all their love.

To see Rick, the perpetual bachelor, go on dates with a different woman every year, swearing he's ready to settle down this time. He'd ask you about yourself, “A nice girl like you doesn't have a date on Valentine's? I don't believe you, honey.”

You would tell him the same thing every time. “Worry about yourself, Rick. You're not getting any younger.”

If anyone else asked, you'd just say you were too busy. Too busy taking care of other people, seeing the country, looking for yourself in the process — and you always meant it.

This year, however, it had you slumping around the house, wrapped in a warm blanket and roaming your own home like a ghost. You were there physically, but your heart was somewhere in a small town in the Midwest, visiting his family before the next leg of the tour.

Selfishly, you wanted him here. You almost asked him to come with you, but you knew how much he missed home, with the way he'd been counting the days to see his uncle, his friends, and who were you to take that from him?

The longing took hold of your heart anyway, squeezing it tight in your chest, as you curled into yourself on your couch, not really paying attention to the romantic comedy playing on your TV set. It rained outside, the pitter-patter against your windows almost lulling you into sleep.

You pictured him there, wrapped around you on the couch. His warmth enveloping you, arms tight around you. In your kitchen, making coffee, helping you bake, washing the dishes. In your bed, messing up your sheets. His laughter booming across the walls, his whispers in your ear.

A golden halo around his wild brown curls. Your Sun, your Star.

A knock on your front door brought you back to reality.

Groaning, you stood, taking the blanket with you as a cape, dragging behind you as you crossed the living room. When you opened the door, there was a soaked delivery boy waiting for you, but he wasn't the first thing you saw.

In front of him, there was a bouquet of roses. A dozen, half of them red, half of them black, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with a pristine white bow. Dazed, you almost didn't hear the boy call your name, and last name, before asking to sign the paper on his clipboard.

“Who… Do you know who sent them?” You asked, giving him back his ballpoint pen.

“They're not signed. Have a good day, miss!”

As he left, and your door seemed to close itself behind you, the first thing you did was reach for your phone.

With your flowers still in hand, clutched to your chest, and the receiver on the other, you dialed the phone you had memorized, but rarely used. The one that was slipped into your back pocket by a heavily ringed hand, one you were told to call if you felt lonely.

Now was as good a time as any.

The gruff voice that answers after a few rings was not his. “Hello?”

“Wayne? Uh, this is…”

“Oh, I know exactly who this is. I was expecting you'd call.”

“Were you?”

The older man chuckled on the other side of the line. “The boy’s been talking about you all day, but he didn't want to call. Said you'd be too busy to sorry about his sorry ass. Figured it wasn't true, but you know how stubborn he is.”

“That he is.” You agreed, and there's an exchange you can't quite figure out at the other end. The phone rattled a bit, and a voice saying “your girl’s on the phone” came through, followed by more rattling.

“I'll let you go, kid. Happy Valentine's Day, there's someone who's desperate to talk to you.”

Without being able to help yourself, giddiness rising through your chest like butterflies, you giggled. “Happy Valentine's, Wayne.”

The next person to talk to you sounded a bit breathless. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The hand that was holding your heart tight let it go, and let it soar through your kitchen, as if it grew cartoon-esque wings. “Hey, Eddie. Do you, perhaps, know if I happen to have a secret admirer, I got these beautiful flowers but sadly, no note.”

“Oh, I don't know. You must steal hearts wherever you go, could be anyone.”

You could hear the smirk on his lips, practically feel his stare across the line. “Aw, that's a shame. I was thinking of returning the favor, but maybe he doesn't like me enough to make himself known.”

“Maybe he likes you enough to keep it a secret, who knows who else might be listening.”

With a sigh, your understanding came through without any more words needing to be said. It laid thick in the air. “I miss you."

“I miss you too. Did you like them?”

“I love them.” You answered immediately, simply. Maybe it was time to be sincere. “I'd love having you here more, though.”

“Baby, you're getting sick of me next time I see you, just you wait. The flowers are more of an early apology.”

“A threat, more like it.”

There it was, the laugh you loved more than anything. “Yeah. A threat, whatever you want to call it.”

“Promise me, then?”

Biting your lips in anticipation, you waited for his reply. Eddie’s voice came heavy with meaning, “I promise.”

Your heart and the cartoon wings that carry it through your ceiling spinned, and spinned, and spinned.

[queenhunter102]

Cod boys and how they come home.

Captain John Price I can see this man having one of his last phone calls with and in code telling the rough timeline of him and his boys coming home. When he does finally step off that chopper and onto that British Soil, I can see that man running to you full speed as he wraps his arms around, damn near toppling the pair of you over. “Hello, my love,” he would whisper as he buried his face into you, just taking in your smell, that thing he wished he could bottle up and take with him on missions, not that he didn’t already have his matching ring. He just wanted that scent to linger longer than it did while he was on missions. Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick Now, Kyle? I see him as the type to just rock up to your flat looking like a little lost puppy, his big brown eyes and the fake petty lip when you swing the door open to him before pouncing on you like a lion when you welcome him into your arms. This man’s mouth would not stop running like he would constantly utter words of praise, like “I adore you” and “You are my everything.” It would be like this man is layering it on thick, hoping you don’t let him go any time yet. Why would you? He was the best damn teddy there ever could be. Alejandro Vargas Now, sweet talker over here? He wouldn’t immediately just go straight home. No, oh nononono, this man would stop off and get you flowers, your favourite drink, food, you name it, like this man is acting like YOU had left on a mission and had finally returned, not him, and when he had unlocked the door to his little house. He would drop everything onto the coffee table just long enough for him to launch himself at you, pinning you to the couch and peppering kisses all over, “Necesito que me des Vida”, he would whisper as he pressed more and more kisses to your jaw. And why wouldn’t you give him life? You did every day. Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish See Johnny here. This man is a fiend when he comes home, like he is everywhere, all over you. Despite being the smallest out of the group, he makes up for it with his ability to find a way under your clothes. To the point, you are a giggly mess, and to where you are shirtless and locked in a cupboard somewhere, pressed against the door, trying to steal all of your oxygen, only breaking apart to whisper things like “Please let me in no-one will notice” or “five more minutes, just five I went months without you.” And who could you deny him? He had fought in your honour, in your name… well, his really. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Now, Si? This big oaf would have waited hours before rushing home. He would have filled out the paperwork he needed to, making sure it got to the right people, even if that meant hand delivery. This man would have spent so much time at the base that you would think you must have had the dates wrong or that the worst must have happened while you sat on the couch and waited for him to walk through the door. And when he finally did come home, you would wrap him into your arms pulling him into you, “Sor’ove, had shit to finish” he would mutter before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you tight into him. What are a few hours of waiting when he has the next two weeks off?

Taglist: @cringeycookies (If you wanna be in my Taglist: Here) Remember: leaving a like, re-blogging, and commenting helps in this world and encourages more. See you around, my little loves. Kissess.

[ninisreading]

FEEL BETTER - spencer reid

pairing! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

prompt! Spencer sees you haven´t been yourself lately, so he searches way to make you feel better.

warnings! just fluff

words! 662

Everybody was aware of Spencer Reid´s lack of interaction with women, so it wasn´t a surprise for anybody when the new female SA made his hands sweat and words start coming out of his mouth like a plethora of nonsense. That however, made your stomach turn, how could a man so gorgeous be nervous around you? You had always classified yourself as this awkward and shy individual, so what effect could you possibly have on a more awkward, shyer man?

All your doubts remained unanswered up until today, a humid, rainy and boring paperwork day, with Prentiss going around chanting god-awful jokes and Morgan constantly teasing you about newfound information on your attraction towards the boy-genius. So yeah, it was a shitty day, add that to the fact that your landlord had called you hours before notifying you of your lack of payment, so you had ditched the idea of having a good day hours ago.

Even within the loudness of the office and own sleep deprivation, Dr Reid did notice your low pitched grunts and silent cries; he prided himself in his ability to observe people. Or maybe it was just you and his ever long infatuation that made everything be about you.

So he thought to himself, well- if you were having such a bad, torturous day, what could he do to help?

He could make you a coffee- no, he had already prepared one for you as soon as you came in that morning, and you were probably going to think he thought you looked awful and you needed energy and you would start to hate him and there would be no more dreams about picnics and solving murders together. No, he couldn’t make you a coffee.

Buy you flowers? Spencer could definitely make a run for the little market right around the FBI´s headquarters, but; wouldn’t that be too suggestive? He liked you of course, but he wasn’t aware of your feelings and coming off as too pushy may scare you into never talking to him ever again and he would rather change his name and move to nowhere before ever having to endure that type of embarrassment.

So no, none of the things that the “How to make your girlfriend feel better” handbook said worked, so what was he supposed to do? Make you his girlfriend and see if that would help? – No- wait what.

“He looks deeply in thought” Said Garcia as she looked right into the kitchen from her spot on Morgan´s desk.  “Probably fantasizing about going on a date with (Y/N)” He replied, and while they both laughed together at Spencer´s absence of charisma, you started turning red from just hearing the conversation while passing by. Was the doe-eyed, lanky boy standing opposite to you truly hoping to have a date with you? Still, you couldn’t really believe anything Derek had to say.

That´s why, when entering the kitchen, you made the great decision to ask Reid;

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

God. If you could have taken a picture of that face Spencer made when he turned around and saw that it was in fact you, and not some prank Emily was pulling on him, you swear you would have. Red cheeks, surprised eyes and a big toothy smile you were greeted with. Maybe you had died, and this was an angel receiving you with open arms in the depths of heaven.  Or it was just Reid. Fleeting the kitchen space quickly, you managed to catch him whispering to himself a quiet answer to your question.

That probably was enough to make your day better, possibly even your week, however, when you came into the office the morning after, you found on your desk an overpriced, full of chemicals ( As Spencer would state, despite his 50% coffee/50% sugar disgusting creation) caramel latte, along with a bouquet of white lilies.

And a beautiful boy grinning at you from the other side of the room.