#one plus latest phone

[hitechinstitute09]

OnePlus Nord 4: मिड-रेंज स्मार्टफोन का धाकड़

OnePlus Nord 4, 100W चार्जिंग, दमदार प्रोसेसर और शानदार कैमरे के साथ मिड-रेंज स्मार्टफोन का नया बादशाह है। इस धाकड़ फोन में क्या कुछ खास है, जानने के लिए पढ़ें हमारा यह ब्लॉग

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[mktechblogs]

 One Plus Nord CE 2  Lite 5G Mobile

Available with 6GB RAM and 128GB Internal storage. Brand  : OnePlus                       Model Name : OnePlus Nord CE 2 Lite 5G Network Service Provider : Unlocked for All Carriers  OS : OxygenOS Memory Storage Capacity : 128 GB About this item Camera: 64MP Main Camera with EIS; 2MP Depth Lens and 2MP Macro Lens; Front (Selfie) Camera: 16MP Sony IMX471 Camera Features: AI scene…

[baronessvonglitter]

Daddy Can Fix It

handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️

Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"He can come clean my pipes anytime."

Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.

You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.

When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."

Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.

"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.

You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.

"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."

"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.

"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.

Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."

"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.

"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."

The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."

"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.

"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.

You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.

That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.

You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.

"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.

"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.

"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.

"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.

Daddy Can Fix It

You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.

You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"

Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.

"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"

"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."

"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.

"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"

You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."

Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"

"Eleven sounds perfect."

"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.

His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.

Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.

He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.

"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.

You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.

"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.

Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.

How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.

You aren't even sure you love him anymore.

But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.

He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.

You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."

He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."

"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."

"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.

Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.

"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.

You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.

"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.

You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.

"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.

Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"

Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."

Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"

You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"

"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.

"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."

"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."

Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.

"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."

"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.

"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."

"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."

"And everyone else at the book club?"

"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"

No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.

He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.

And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?

You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.

A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.

The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.

Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.

Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.

"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"

Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."

"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."

He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."

"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."

His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.

"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.

Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.

"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"

Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..

A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.

"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.

Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.

You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.

Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."

He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.

"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."

You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.

Joel is fucking hung.

You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.

Thank God I did my yoga this week.

You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.

He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.

"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.

His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.

"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.

When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.

It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.

Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.

His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.

"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."

Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy."

"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."

"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.

"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."

"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.

"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.

He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.

It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.

"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.

"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.

"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.

It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.

"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.

"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.

"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.

"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.

"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."

Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.

"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."

He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.

"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."

The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.

"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.

"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"

"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."

He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."

His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.

He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."

"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.

"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"

"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.

"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.

The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.

Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.

"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.

He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."

"Like what?" you ask slowly.

He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.

"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.

"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.

He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"

dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑

tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors

[jaylalolz]

Hello :) is it possible to have Nicolas x reader? Can it have that Nicolas was doing a panel for a movie then the reader had a older sister who was a influencer and the reader sister invited her to be her plus one. Whole time Nicolas couldn't stop looking at the reader ? The older sister caught on? Thank you 🩷

❛ 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

FAN!reader x ACTOR!nicholas 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, A girl catches Nicholas's attention and he can't help but stare at her the entire time he's doing a panel for his new film.

A/N, thanks for requesting !! hope you like it <3

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas sat on the stage, the bright lights overhead making the audience just a sea of dim faces. He had done these panels a hundred times before—promoting a new movie, answering questions, smiling for the cameras—but today felt different. His co-stars sat beside him, and the interviewer droned on, talking about the intensity of his latest role, but Nicholas wasn’t fully present. His mind was wandering.

Until he saw her.

She was sitting near the middle of the crowd, just off-center but perfectly within his line of sight. For a moment, everything else faded—the lights, the sound of the interviewer’s voice, even the low murmur of the crowd. It was as if the entire room had dimmed, and she was the only thing in focus.

Nicholas blinked, trying to shake the sudden intensity of the feeling, but he couldn’t look away. Her eyes, large and bright, held an unintentional allure that drew him in. She wasn’t smiling or reacting to the interview like most people. She was just there, almost like she didn’t belong in this room full of fans and flashing lights. She seemed… unaffected. It intrigued him.

His heart skipped, and he quickly tried to refocus on the conversation happening around him, but every few seconds, his eyes darted back to her. He couldn’t help it. The way she sat there, so unaware of the effect she was having on him, only pulled him deeper into his trance.

The interviewer turned toward him, asking a question about his process, but Nicholas barely heard it. He forced himself to nod and smile, giving a half-hearted answer about diving deep into character or something he had rehearsed a thousand times. It was autopilot at this point, because his mind was somewhere else entirely—fixed on her.

The girl leaned over to whisper something to the woman sitting next to her, and Nicholas’s gaze sharpened as he watched them. The woman—her sister, maybe—looked over at him and then back at her, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. The sister’s eyes narrowed playfully, and Nicholas realized with a start that she had caught him staring.

For a brief second, his heart jumped into his throat. Did she notice? Did she know?

The sister leaned in closer to the girl and whispered something in her ear, and Nicholas watched as the girl’s brow furrowed slightly. She shook her head, dismissing whatever was said, completely unaware that she had been the sole focus of his attention for the last several minutes.

The panel continued, but Nicholas was barely part of it now. His co-stars took over, answering questions with more enthusiasm than he could muster at the moment. He was too focused on the way the girl casually tucked her hair behind her ear, oblivious to the fact that his eyes kept drifting back to her.

The sister leaned in again, this time gesturing subtly toward Nicholas, a smile on her lips, clearly trying to get her to believe what she had said. The girl laughed softly, shaking her head again, as if the very idea was ridiculous. There was no way she believed that someone like Nicholas was staring at her.

But he was.

As he forced himself to answer another question, Nicholas found himself wondering about her. Who is she? She wasn’t like the usual crowd at these panels—there was no excitement or wide-eyed adoration in her gaze. She wasn’t wearing any promotional gear for his movie or holding up her phone to snap pictures. She was just… watching. Quiet, composed, almost as if she was watching a scene unfold from a distance, detached from the chaos around her.

And that only made him more curious.

The sister nudged her again, this time more insistent, and Nicholas could tell she was teasing her now, clearly amused by her sister’s obliviousness. The girl rolled her eyes, whispering something in return before shifting in her seat. Her eyes flicked toward him for a brief second—just long enough to send a jolt through him—but she looked away almost immediately, still not realizing the truth of what her sister was saying.

Nicholas shifted in his chair, doing his best to hide the fact that his attention was completely elsewhere. His co-star nudged him slightly, bringing him back to the moment, and Nicholas forced himself to smile, laughing lightly at something the interviewer said. He needed to focus. But every time he tried, he was drawn back to her.

The panel was winding down now, and Nicholas felt a strange sense of urgency. He didn’t know why, but the thought of walking out of this room without knowing who she was left him feeling unsettled. He needed more than just this fleeting glance, more than this shared moment of silent connection.

As the final question was asked and the applause started to rise, Nicholas’s eyes found her one last time. She was standing now, pulling her jacket around her shoulders as she prepared to leave, still completely unaware that she had captivated him for the entire hour.

The sister, on the other hand, was fully aware. She caught his eye again and gave him a knowing smirk before turning back to her sister, still teasing her lightly as they walked toward the exit.

Nicholas watched them go, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the crowd around him clapping, could feel his co-stars rising to their feet beside him, but it all felt distant. There was only one thing on his mind now.

He couldn’t let this end here.

As the panel wrapped up and the lights dimmed, Nicholas turned to one of the event coordinators, his voice low and urgent. “Can you do me a favor?”

The coordinator looked at him, confused but nodded. “Of course. What do you need?”

Nicholas glanced toward the exit where the girl had just disappeared. “That girl... the one sitting with her sister in the middle row. Can you find out who she is?”

The coordinator blinked, clearly caught off guard, but nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Nicholas walked off the stage, the applause still echoing in the background, his mind was no longer on the movie, the press, or the questions he’d just answered.

It was on her—the girl in the crowd who had unknowingly stolen his focus, and maybe something more.

[lucysarah-c]

"Those are my fries, and those are yours,"

"Come on! Does it really make a difference if I take just one?" You retorted.

"Settled accounts keep old friends," he mumbled, mouth half full of food.

You giggled as he took off the top bun from his burger, piled on a bunch of fries, and took a huge bite. The scene was downright chaotic, and you burst out laughing. Levi, who normally cared about appearances, was wolfing down the McDonald's meal with an intensity that didn’t quite match the polished image he’d shown earlier, even though that suit probably cost a fortune.

Ketchup stuck to the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning what was so funny. Once he'd swallowed, he muttered, "Eat before the fries get cold. They taste horrible like that."

You couldn't help but reflect on how the night had gone. The House of CB dress you'd bought and saved for a special occasion, the hair you had done at the salon, the makeup you practiced to mimic the subtle but lovely glam of the latest Bridgerton season—none of that had been planned for you to end up in your boyfriend's car, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of fast food from a drive-thru at 11 p.m.

The empty parking lot outside, with snow accumulating, could have been eerie if you weren’t sitting next to Levi. Fries slathered in extra cheddar sauce were scattered everywhere, and Levi shoveled them into his mouth without a care. No lights, no music, but it didn't matter—you felt safe with him, though neither of you was keen on tempting fate by keeping the car lights on in the middle of nowhere.

Taking a bite of your own burger, you chuckled again. "I don't think I've ever seen you this hungry."

Levi paused mid-chew to take a swig of his Coke. "Tch, those posh assholes. They dragged me around for hours—hours! Examples of this, representation of that, and handshakes with whoever. From 3 p.m.! They didn’t even let me grab a sandwich at the reception. Finally, they serve dinner at 10—TEN!" he grumbled, the delay clearly having been the final straw. "And what did they serve? One shrimp, a tiny cube of cheese, and some grass they picked from outside and called a gourmet dinner."

"Rich people don’t eat much; that’s why," you teased. "It’s fancy to have tiny portions on huge plates."

"That’s because they’re all on Ozempic, buying up medicine that people actually need. Fuck them," he muttered.

On any other occasion, Levi would’ve cursed you for eating in his car, but tonight he made an exception. "How are my ice creams?"

Levi glanced outside where the ice creams were stored in the cold air to keep from melting. Processing your words, he turned back to you. "My ice creams? You mean ours."

"Oh, Levi, aren’t you going to gift me one? What kind of gentleman are you?" you teased.

"Right now, I’d bite your arm off if it weren’t for the fact that McDonald’s is still open," he replied with a smirk.

You laughed again. It had been the government holiday party, and you’d been so excited to attend, ready to rub elbows with high society. One of the older women had even told you, "You should've asked for a brand to sponsor your dress, coming as Levi’s plus-one!" Erwin had insisted that Levi attend as a representative of the Ackerman family, much to your boyfriend's dismay. Uri had agreed, probably because any option was better than Kenny for a formal event.

"Erwin will kill you when he finds out," you said, remembering how Levi had messaged you to sneak out. You’d never imagined he’d drag you through a bathroom window, across the estate grounds, and into his car for a McDonald’s run. "What about Uri? I ran into him during dinner. He was so nice!"

Levi hummed in approval, acknowledging that the old man had always been a saint in his eyes. The only one capable of dealing with Kenny for so many years.

Suddenly, Levi's phone lit up, its ringtone breaking the quiet. "Fuck!" you panicked.

"Don’t answer. If we do, they’ll know I’m reachable," Levi said, ignoring the calls.

Message after message flooded his phone—texts from Uri, Traute, and Erwin: Where are you? Levi, answer the phone ASAP. Come back here this instant.

The calls came in one after another.

"They won’t stop," you muttered. "Maybe we should just tell them—"

"No. They’d send the national guard to drag me back to that snob-filled hell," Levi spat. Despite not picking up, both of you whispered as if the unanswered calls could somehow hear.

At some point, the whole situation became hilarious. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder, chuckling as the phone buzzed incessantly. Levi kept refusing to answer, and in the midst of it all, you shared sloppy kisses in the darkened car.

"I’ve got an idea…" you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. Levi looked at you, confused, the noise from the phone distracting from the moment you were building.

Casually, you swiped up on the screen and answered. "Levi? Where are—"

With a fake gasp and an exaggerated tone, you moaned, "Ah, Lev—Yes!"

Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he realized what you were doing. "Play along," you whispered. And before you knew it, he began thumping the side door, mimicking the sound of… well, thrusts.

"Harder!" you managed between giggles before the call abruptly ended, leaving both of you in hysterics.

"Well, they’re definitely not calling anymore," Levi shook his head, still grinning, knowing full well this prank wouldn’t go unpunished.

"You can always say we were busy working on the Ackerman heir they keep asking for," you teased.

Levi grimaced, entertained by the thought. "I mean…" His hand slid up your thigh, the mood shifting as his touch grew more insistent. "We could actually be doing that."

Your hips began to move slightly over his lap. A quick glance at the clock—the only light inside the car—showed 12:05 a.m. Finally past midnight. "Whatever the birthday boy wants," you purred.

—

"He picked up? What did he say, sir?" Traute asked irritably in the event staff area, where they were waiting to bring out the enormous, decorated cake for the final part of the evening.

Uri chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I think he’s already celebrating. Let’s just carry on."

(No idea what this is, the idea just pop up in my mind)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[suzukiblu]

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now. 

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand. 

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully. 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet. 

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread. 

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile. 

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire. 

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?” 

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .” 

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?” 

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.” 

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him. 

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way. 

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement. 

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly. 

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure. 

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?” 

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

[l0vergirlwrites]

i’m your favourite ; eddie munson

synopsis: eddie’s insecurities always make him question whether or not he really deserves you, but he knows he can count on you to continuously prove him wrong.

warnings: mentions of insecurities in terms of looks & relationship dynamics, few swear words, fem!reader in mind, reader has a mom, dad & little sister, established relationship, lil heated moments

note: inspired by role model’s song “scumbag” (if you haven’t listened to his latest album “kansas anymore” go do it!!!)

“i’m a train wreck, i’m a cigarette. i’m the side that no one’s rooting for. but you stand by me.”

“eds? did you hear me?”.

quickly blinking his eyes, eddie took in his surroundings & came back to reality. pressing a faint kiss to your hair, he nodded his head.

you both were having a movie night at his trailer with blankets & popcorn on his couch. you both weren’t super picky, so the random cable channel playing horror movies did the trick.

“sorry—zoned out. what were you saying, baby?” he tried to recover from his mere moment of weakness, his arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer to his chest.

“i was just wondering…” you teetered, “would you wanna come over tomorrow?” you nerves were taking over now that his attention was fully on you.

“it’s my little sister’s birthday & my parents are doing a barbecue to celebrate—it’s okay if you don’t wanna come, i get it,” you started to ramble, fiddling with the material of eddie’s shirt you wore.

“i just thought it’d be nice for you to meet my family, y’know? b-but you can totally say no—it’s not a big deal” you assured him, but you secretly hoped he’d say yes.

when eddie didn’t answer immediately, you lifted your head from his chest to get a better view of his face, seeing a look of uncertainty on his features. it made you worry if asking this was too much.

“you want me to your family? a-are you sure?”

nodding your head quick, your hand rose up to rest on his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i’m sure,” you smiled once you saw eddie’s face soften, his doe eyes twinkling under the living room lamps.

“you’re my favourite person, eddie. plus, my mom has been dying to meet you since our first date” your cheeks felt warm at that little omission, & you could see a pink hue bloom on eddie’s.

pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, eddie pushed aside his insecurities for a moment. “okay,” he exhaled, “i’d love to come over”.

pushing yourself up on the couch cushions to thank him with a kiss, eddie’s hands tightened on your waist, sighing into your mouth the longer your lips were locked to his.

“by the way,” he pecked the corner of your mouth. “you’re my favourite too”.

**~*~*~~*~**~*~~*~*~**~**~*~~*~*

tomorrow had come & eddie was freaking the hell out.

his room had become a larger mess than it usually was, turning into a something that looked like a hurricane with all the clothes thrown everywhere & on everything. all morning, he had tried finding the perfect outfit to wear that would be acceptable in the eyes of your parents, but nothing seemed to work.

so for the last ten minutes, he sat against the edge of his bed with his fingers tangled in his lion’s mane, eyes pinched & breath heavy in frustration.

at least, that was until his landline phone began to ring.

“hello?” he spoke into the mic, voice dropping with defeat.

“eds? what’s wrong?” your voice was concerned, only causing eddie’s breath to hitch.

“nothing baby, it’s all good”.

you scoffed. “sure don’t sound like it”.

rolling his eyes playfully, he fully laid out on his bed, back growing uncomfortable from all the clothes sprawled across it.

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or continue to mope about it?” you chided, only making him sigh.

“i have nothing good to wear”. the statement made him seem pathetic in his eyes.

tilting your head (you knew he could tell your movements), you couldn’t help but have a small smirk on your face while you twisted the phone cord between your fingers.

“now i don’t believe that, baby” now you heard him scoff.

“your parents are gonna think i’m a freak—everybody does. i-i can’t help it”. he spoke softer now, insecurities flowing out of him & overtaking his being because he didn’t want to be made a fool out of.

he wouldn’t be able to survive knowing your family doesn’t approve of him.

& your heart drops at the mere thought of it.

“eddie,” you spoke, trying to reel him back in from the negative parts of his mind. “no one is going to think you’re a freak—you’re so much more than that stupid label”.

he continued to stare up at the client as you spoke, his chest growing heavy with anxiety.

“they’re going to love you because you’re kind, have good humour, extremely helpful, caring, handsome,” you could hear him let out a huff at the last word.

“… & because i love you”.

you both haven’t said those three words yet since you started dating a few months ago. so, now was the first time.

“y-you what?”

fear overtook you now, your heartbeat loud in your ears. did i say it too early you thought to yourself.

“i-i love you, eddie. i hope that’s okay” oh shit.

eddie almost dropped the phone from his hand, still somehow in shock that someone like you loved someone like him. he’s been known as trailer trash, a freak, a thrown out cigarette, a scumbag, a stain on the so called beauty of hawkins—he’s been torn down for too long.

but by the grace of god (or some other being or universe or whatever), you saw past all the tarnished scuffs on him.

it’s something he still can’t fully understand.

“eddie, i-i’m sorry if i just fucked everything—“

“i love you too. sorry it took me so long to say it”

his words took you by surprise, & you couldn’t help but laugh happily into the receiver.

“you don’t have to be sorry, you just have to come over & kiss me to seal the deal” you bit your lip at your coyness, hoping it’d be enough for him to pull through.

“i’ll see you in thirty, sweetheart” eddie said before ending the call, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your chest. your head bumped into your pillow in a lovestruck haze, cheeks hurting from how hard were smiling.

you were so in love with that man.

**~~*~*~**~***~*~~**~*~**~*~*

you waited at the front door while the party festivities took place in the backyard, hearing your mom yell that the food was almost ready from the back door. you tapped your sandal clad foot eagerly, anxious for when the doorbell would finally ring.

& it hit you like bricks when it chimed in your ears.

your hand (which was slightly clammy from nerves) held the doorknob, twisting it slowly until the door was open & your lovely boy was in view.

he dressed in casual attire consisting of a dark red t-shirt, dark blue jeans, & a new pair of sneakers he got with steve the other day. he still wore his rings & guitar pick necklace, dawning those pearly whites of his with a grin when he saw you.

his hands were full, holding onto things with a claw like grip. in one, he held three small bouquets of flowers from the supermarket & his van keys. the other held a purple gift bag stuffed with white glittery tissue paper, the specks of glitter shining brightly in the mid afternoon sunlight.

“hey, baby” he said with a pep in his step, eying you up & down. you could tell he was still nervous, but he was trying his best to keep cool.

without missing a beat, your hands flew up to his face & you kissed him hard, taking him by surprise on your front door step. but who could blame you for doing such a thing after you both confessed your love over the phone?

“you’re gonna,” *kiss* “make me” *kiss* “drop everything”, he huffed, laughing into your lips when you refused to pull away initially.

“sorry,” you heaved. “just love you so much is all” you grinned harder at eddie’s flushed face.

“lemme put everything down & give you a proper one, yeah?”

you agreed, helping him inside your home for the first time, giving him a quick tour of the main floor as you headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water.

“my mom is a gonna get all sappy knowing you got us all flowers—thank you by the way” you pecked his cheek with a pop as you placed the flowers into three different vases.

placing the gift bag on the counter, eddie just shrugged nonchalantly. “well, it’s just what a gentleman does” he said, smirking when you smiled at him.

“yeah,” you made your way over to him, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressing into his as his cold ring clad hands held your waist, squeezing it every few seconds.

“you really are the best” you leaned closer to him, lips just about to brush his.

“hmm, is that right?” his breath fanned your face, smelling like spearmint gum.

you could only nod, unable to resist the space anymore until he made the final dip forward, capturing your lips in his for a proper kiss where he could hold you close. it was slow, saying all the things you both wanted to say, while being sweet & soft & rewarding all at the same time.

“i love you” he breathed into your mouth, his thumbs fiddling with the smocked material on the lower back of your dress, being careful not to let them drift too low in case someone in your family caught him—& god forbid it’d be your father.

“i love you too” you murmured, pulling apart to laugh & smile & take all of him in like this.

you took a mental screenshot of him, safely storing it away in your brain’s memory box for later.

“so,” you patted his chest. “ready to meet everyone?” you asked, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his bottom lip while he sweetly tucked some of your hair behind your ear, fingers brushing over your earrings with a smile (because you’re wearing the ones he bought you).

eddie thought you tasted just as sweet as you looked.

“yeah,” he interlocked your fingers with his own, squeezing three times “now i am”.

“i’m a scumbag, i’m a scumbag (but you stand by me)”.

[blingblong55]

What Would I do?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

A/N: I woke up, wrote this in the middle of the night, listened to my sleeping playlist and decided that you could need this, so...here you go. All the events aren't written in chronological order, but rather moments at random that lead to something...I won't spoil this part, so read it, babes. I know this isn't to the quality of the latest ones I've put out but just bare with me on this one, I had a lot of ideas! And you’re more than welcome to search the title on Spotify, it’s a good song that obviously matches this fic

-- F!Reader, established!relationship, fluff, boyfriend!simon --

Boyfriend, what a word for a man like him. Is it the sweetness of your touch? Could it be the way you are so gentle with him? Maybe it's the way he found himself driving to your place instead of his own after a long day of work. Whatever it is, the answer to all his problems is you. You, you, you, and lovely you. 

From the beginning, he told you he isn't a man that will ever be called a husband. You, of course–saddened by this comment–just nodded and accepted it. He always meant it because, with the life he's had, there is no way in hell he would want to add to his worries. Plus, he doesn't need love, doesn't need the companionship. It's just him and the stress he carries. 

Then, you came in. 

"Before we begin this, I won't ever marry you, I'm not sorry if you feel bad, it's just my decision." He states and since it's a fresh relationship, you nod, "I understand." 

From then on, he didn't need to remind you. It was always in the back of your head that no matter what, he'd stay a boyfriend. Even now, five years into a relationship. Living in separate places, and different friend groups, your love for him persists and you stay through the good and bad. Maybe it's because even if you'll never wear the wedding dress in your Pinterest board, you will have him, for however long he'll have you. Please, god let it be forever. 

--

"I can't sleep," you say over the phone. This is how it started. How after one year together, he finds himself driving to your place, you didn't ask for it but he won't let your insomnia ruin your day off. What is it about you that has him finding ways to make your life better? Could it be that you drove to pick him up one time from the airport? Maybe it's the way kissing you feels? No, that can't be. Is it that you understand him? Maybe. 

Whatever it is, he unlocks your front door with the spare key you gave him. As he approaches your room, he finds you listening to the song you said reminds you of him. What's this weird feeling in his chest? Why does this scene make him feel warm? Goosebumps, no, he never gets goosebumps. 

He pushes your door gently and you turn around. "Simon, hi," you immediately pause the song, hoping he didn't recognise it in time. But he did and that caused him to smile—oh silly girl. "Hi, lovie," his voice much softer now. Hesits down, wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your head. "What's in that pretty head of yours, hm?" he asks and at the same time, you find yourself to be more comfortable in his hold. 

"Everything," you mumble and that's when you hear that deep and soft chuckle of his.

Within five minutes, he finds himself lying in bed with you, holding a book he found on your nightstand. He looks down at you, your head resting on his chest, right where it belongs. 

As you close your eyes, that's when you hear it, he starts to read out loud. Usually, he would just lay in bed until you fell asleep. But not tonight, something told him to just read to you. Is it that maybe he wants you to be comfortable? Toprovide you what you provide for him? Whatever it is, it has got him here. His voice is soothing, it's calming in many ways. He doesn't understand it, no matter how many times you explain that you love it. 

--

"Lovie?" he calls out to you when he arrives at your place. This is the first time he calls you a pet name. It feels...odd but good to do this. He steps further into your place, the lights are dim, something he knows you love because it makes the rooms more "aesthetically pleasing to walk into". "Love?" he calls out and that's when panic sets in. 

You always answer, to the first time he calls your name. 

He rushes into your room, only to see you asleep. There is a moment when his gaze softens. It's almost comical how much he has changed. How much he has wanted to change. 

He was never like this with past partners, I mean he did like them and all but with you, he is trying and trying to understand all your creases, to become someone worthy of much more than that sweet smile you give him. So, he leans by the doorway to your bedroom and watches you sleep. 

How can someone be so beautiful at all times? How can you make him feel so...good? So safe and happy? God, he loves you. And as he watches you sleep, he feels his chest warm up, something odd and for a second it feels like he is getting a heart attack. But then he realises it.

He is in love...true love. 

--

"What's this?" he asks as one day he finds you, sitting by the dining table with a cake and a candle. 

"It's your birthday, and I know you don't celebrate but...maybe this can be a one-time thing," your voice soft and that's when he feels his chest tighten. He drops his bags, makes sure the door is locked and sits beside you. He pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. You light up a singular candle, holding the small cake to him. 

At this moment, when the only light comes from the candle and the kitchen hood lights, he can take his mask off and appreciate how you gently sing for him. This was the first time he celebrated his birthday, well...first time in over a decade where it felt good to do so.

When he blows the candles, his gaze shifts from the cake to you. You kiss his forehead and his brows furrow whilst his eyes close. God, this is home. "Happy birthday, Simon," you whisper as you set the cake down. 

Maybe heaven is real after all. His faithless prayers were answered and his angel arrived. 

--

Coughs, headaches and long naps.

Simon has been sick for three days so far and has possibly got the best nurse around. You.

"Eat–"

"I'm not hungry, y/n," he says but you give him that mum look. "Eat, Simon." you persist and he sighs, opening his mouth as you feed him a spoonful of soup. You smile as you watch him eat. It worries you that this is the first meal he actually accepts but you're also content about it. "S'good," he comments and you nod. Of course, it's good, you think. 

As you leave the room to get him some warm tea, he lays there, appreciating the past days. He wouldn't admit it but he loves this, loves to get pampered by you. It's the first time in so long that where feels cared for, like someone out there means all the little things they do to make him feel better. 

--

Dinner at your family's house. He is nervous even though he's been here before. This time he feels different, there is something in the air tonight. He holds your hand as you walk through the threshold. 

Greeting family members was always the longest part but if you enjoy it, so will he. 'God, this wasn't me before you came in, Y/N,' he says to himself. 

Sitting around the family room, your sibling's children run around and while you get carried away talking and gossiping with your siblings, he finds himself being the centre of attention to all the children. "Uncle Simon, I want to fly like a plane again!" one of the younger kids exclaimed. You look around and see him there, holding a child in his arms, the biggest smile on him as he watches the child giggle while he parades them around the room as if they were a plane. 

He puts the child down, looks over at you and his gaze softens. Your heart melts at this. He has never looked so perfect like right now. 

On the drive home, he holds your hand in his as he drives. 

There is something in the air. Something sweet that screams future life. He looks over at you for a second then back at the road. That's how he finds himself picturing you and him, moving in together, settling down and running around the house you both call home, chasing your children while he tries to fix the light in the kitchen. 

Domesticty is what he craves when it's just you two.

--

There came a time when he lay in bed with you, shirtless with only his boxers on as he laid his head on your chest. Hisarms lazily resting at your sides, bodies intertwined while he listens to your heartbeat. Your hand caresses his back while the other runs from his neck to his hair. He hums, slowly mumbling about his day. Maybe after all havingsomeone isn't the end of the world. 

He closes his eyes, taking in the comfort of your hold, the bedsheets and the safety he feels at this exact moment. 

--

Three days, that's how long it took for a mission to last before he calls you, mid-day for him, midnight for you. "My love, where are you?" he asks in a panic. "Home, why? Is everything okay?" you ask before he cuts you off. "I was taking a nap and dreamt that you died," he says, nearly out of breath. 

"Trust me, it will be hard to get rid of me, you've got me for at least thirty lifetimes," you say with a smile and he can hear it. He loves it when you distract him with witty comments. "I better have you for more than thirty, my love," he says at that moment, the nickname feels right. More than right. He wants to keep calling you that until his dying breath. 

--

It was a random evening. You were stuck figuring out some hobby of yours as he cooked dinner. And as he waits for the food to be done baking he leans on the counter and looks out the window. 

He thought about the one time he dodged a failed relationship with you. 

What if you hadn't sat down and talked it out? Would you be in another man's arms? Would you be giving them the kisses that belong to him? What if your cuddles belonged to another guy? 

Your laugh rings in his ears and he can't imagine you laughing at any other man's jokes but his. Who but you to laugh at his jokes, your hand on his shoulder or chest as your eyes crinkle at the corners like always? 

It hits him suddenly that all those years ago when he told you that he would never be someone's husband should have never been said. You know why. It is because he won't be someone's husband, not when in his mind he has been yours all along. Sure he doesn't have the official title but the nose kisses you give him, the ones where he pretends to hate them with a grumble are something. 

--

"There is something, something I lied about years ago when I met you." he begins. You're in his lap, surely it isn't to end this sweet love. "I find myself hating on what I said, hating that it's been a lie. I love you," his voice softens at those three words, he sighs and looks into your eyes. "I have no idea what my life looks like from the outside, but when I look at my future, there is one thing I see," he clears his throat. "You, I see you and me. I always thought of myself as the guy everyone forgets about, because he had three friends and that was it."

He takes your hand in his, "And then, you came along, and I see a life, I see myself in ways I never did before. Youchanged me, you make me want to keep coming home, coming to hold you, to show you I will never break my promise." His lips find your knuckles, "I have no fucking idea what life is after you because I don't want a life after you, I want my life to be spent here. I have no clue what or who I was before you came into my life. What would I do without? No clue but I know what to do with you now," he looks into your eyes and you see how much he means every word. 

"Just promise me this, stay with me." he gently gets up and your gaze shifts as now you look up at him. "Stay, because I am nothing but a lifeless soldier, looking for someone and I'm done looking, y/n, I found you and that's all I need now," he says. 

He gets down on one knee, "Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He asks, his gaze full of so much hope and in that moment, your heart races. Tears well up in your eyes and you nod. Speechless but with a huge grin, you nod. 

"Yes," you manage to say. You don't even notice the ring, but you feel him slide it onto your ring finger. He smiles, like a child on Christmas as he gets up and embraces you, making sure this isn't him creating an illusion. 

"Oh, my love," his voice muffled, face buried in your neck. "I love you so much and I will prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. I will make you the happiest woman alive," he says, pulling away and kissing you with conviction. 

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[baby-yongbok]

Backseat

Boyfriend!Seungmin x Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Smut ♡ Word Count - 4.1k ♡ Summary - Your open relationship with your boyfriend has one rule. What happens when you break it? ✧ Masterlist ✧

♡ A/N: Seungmin's look at the Chanel pop-up event killed me. That's it. That's the tweet. I hope that you enjoy! 💕+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ MDNI ♡ Warnings: Themes of open relationships, very light degradation - blink and you'll miss it, spit play?? - like, not really? but just to be safe, Dom Seungmin vibes & Seungmin is hot [I think that's all]

“Where did you even meet that guy?” The beeping of the microwave punctuated Sarina’s sentence and the other two girls all hummed in curiosity. It’s a typical girls night for the four of you. Sarina brings the drinks, Isa brings the snacks, Winter provides her Netflix password and more snacks and you allow them all into your apartment to listen to stories about your latest intimate escapades. 

“That restaurant downtown, Gammeeok. I dropped my keys and he chased me down to return them.” You drop the steaming bag of popcorn into the bowl, handing it off to Winter to take care of. “How charming.” Isa teases with a laugh and you all follow.

“So, like, Seungmin won’t be mad that you slept with some stranger? He really doesn’t care?” You nod as you stuff your mouth with a fist full of popcorn, humming and shrugging to save yourself time. “He doesn’t care. The only rule is that I can’t sleep with his friends and he can’t sleep with mine.”

“And you don’t tell him about the guys you sleep with?” 

“Mm, nope. He tells me about his hook-ups sometimes but he doesn’t really care to hear about mine. He just likes to know when they happen. He’s watched me fuck someone before but it was a one time thing.” A collective ‘oh’ echoes around the group of you as the girls exchange looks. “That’s hot.” Winter mumbles as she flips through the Netflix options and Isa shakes her head.

“My boyfriend would actually explode if that were our dynamic.” Sarina scoffs and the other girls agree before falling off into a new conversation of ‘what if’s’.

 Your phone buzzes under you as you all break out into a fit of hysterics. Your laugh dies in your throat once you read the message on your screen. The black letters typed by your boyfriend read, ‘I’m outside’, and you can feel your heart start to hammer. You weren’t supposed to see him until tomorrow morning.

 You text him back quickly, letting him know that it’s girls night and your friends weren’t leaving until the morning. Your phone buzzes with a reply seconds later, surely he said that he’d just see you tomorrow right? You can feel a shadow of anxiety as you read the new text. ‘You can leave them for a sec. Don’t you wanna see me?’

That text seems innocent right? Then why is your leg bouncing like he just sent you a ‘we need to talk’ text. I mean he did just get back from a family vacation today, maybe he just really missed you. Yeah, he got excited to see you, that’s it. 

“Helloooo, earth to y/n.” With the snap of Winter’s fingers your head snaps up to the girls across from you. “Everything cool? We were talking about rewatching Thirty-Nine or are you feeling something different?”

You open and close your mouth once or twice before you manage to look down at your phone and type a quick ‘coming’ to Seungmin. You pull yourself up from your armchair and grab a hoodie that you think is yours but you’re really not sure right now and you honestly don’t care much either.

“That’s fine but I - I have to - I’ll be right back.” 

“What’s up?” Isa asks and you sigh before doing your best to reassure them that everything is A-ok. They tease you as you unlock your front door, telling you that if you’re gone for more than five minutes that they just know that Seungmin is ruining you. You brush it off with an eye roll and make your way to the lobby of your building. There’s a comfortable breeze that you're thankful for since you’re only in your loungewear.

You look around for any sign of Seungmin’s car for a second before your phone buzzes again. ‘4 cars down to the left.’ 

You follow his direction, walking a couple of steps before his car comes into sight. You notice that Seungmin is absent from the driver's seat and as you get closer you can faintly make out his figure in the back seat. You open the door and slide in next to him once you reach the car, closing the door softer than usual in case you’re wrong about the reason for his impromptu visit. 

“Hey, baby, welcome back.” You lean into him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips that he returns with no problem. “This is a surprise.”

He’s not making any faces, his eyebrows aren’t furrowed like they usually are when he’s upset and he’s smirking at you though you can’t say that it seems entirely friendly. “I had to see you. Missed you.”

Your heart plays hopscotch inside your chest for a moment though you can’t tell if it’s because he’s being sweet or because of your looming anxiety. “You were gonna see me tomorrow, did you get too excited to tell me about your trip?” You try to relax into your seat. Maybe there’s nothing wrong, maybe it’s all in your head.

“Mm, not really, no.” Fuck it, something is up he’s too laid back. “Actually there was something that I was dying to tell you about.”

Bingo. You look over at him, wide anxious eyes boring into his dark ones. “Answer this for me, sweetie.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his leather jacket. You hadn’t even noticed that he was wearing the gift you gave him this past year for his birthday. He looks damn good in it as always.

 Okay, wait, stop gawking. Focus. 

“Do you recognize this guy?” A bright smile parts his lips as your jaw goes slack. You stare at the picture on his phone screen, eyes darting between Seungmin and the guy next to him. The guy you fucked a day ago. “Gotta use your words.”

“I- well, yeah.” You blink up at him, worry plastered on every muscle of your face. Seungmin takes a moment to rest his hand on your bouncing leg, soothing circles into the clothed flesh. Okay, so he’s not really that mad. “I did something bad didn’t I?”

He tsks, huffing a short laugh as he locks his phone and slips it back into his pocket. “Mm, I mean you fucked my roommate from college so, you tell me.” You whine, covering your eyes with your hands.

“I had no idea, baby, really.” 

“I know, I don’t think that you did this on purpose.” The pads of his fingers dig into your thigh and he pulls you closer to him. “Just imagine my surprise when Hyunjin picks me up from the airport and starts raving about a girl who sucked his soul from him.” You groan again, wiggling a bit as he pulls you into his side, throwing his arm around you. 

“I was even more surprised when he showed me the video.” You gasp so loud and fast that you nearly choke. You forgot about the video.

“Oh fuck, oh no, I fucked up.” There’s a burning at the back of your eyes that matches the feeling in your chest. You should’ve been more careful but you aren’t exactly the type to vet your hook-up’s like a gun shop doing a background check. “I’m so sorry, Seungmin. I swear that if I would’ve known I wouldn’t have gone home with him.”

“I already told you that I believe you, baby.” He draws circles into the bare skin of your shoulder, it sends a chill up your spine. “But, I must admit that a punishment is something that I find appropriate for this situation.” 

You peer up at him through your thick lashes, trying your best to blink away the tears threatening to fall. A punishment? You can do that. 

“Anything, Min. I truly am sorry.”

“Show me, don’t tell me.” You move to unbuckle his belt, swallowing hard as you fiddle with the metal. “Nuh uh.” 

You hum, confused. There are a couple of punishments that are commonly used by Seungmin and fucking your tiny throat to the point of tears is usually his favorite. “I have something else in mind.” 

He gently places his hands on your hips, pulling you into his lap so that you're straddling him. You rest your hands on the back of the seat, more than familiar with this position since he’s taken you in the back seat more times than you can count. 

“I already heard everything from Hyunjin. He recalled the scenario in grave detail.” Seungmin keeps his eyes on you as his nimble fingers twirl the string to your pajama pants. “Now what I want you to do..”

He pulls at the string, undoing the bow. “Is tell me your side of the story.” Your breath catches in your throat.

“What do you.. mean?” He pulls at the waistband of your pants gently. 

“I wanna hear it from your point of view.” He smiles at you, that teasing gleam in his eye that you know means trouble. “ I want you to tell me how he felt, how he sounded, how he tasted.” 

You involuntarily grind into him as you start to recall the events of that night. “But… you never wanna hear about that stuff. Are you sure?”

“What did I just ask for?” His large hand squeezes your thigh and you jump at the pressure. “Does my puppy think that I don’t know what I want?” 

“No no, I’m sorry. I’m just - just nervous I think.” He grins up at you, there’s a softness to it that relaxes you. 

“Don’t be nervous, I just want you to tell me all about it, okay? I won’t think of you any differently. I won’t love you any less.” His lips brush against yours, slow and soft as he teases a kiss. “I just want you to tell me how he fucked you.” He plants the kiss, soft and rough, hungry and gentle. A contradiction. 

“Can you do that for me?” He whispers against your lips and you shake your head. You’re already getting hazy and he’s barely touched you. “Say it.”

“I can do that. I’ll tell you how he fucked me.” He slips his hand down the front of your pants, the tips of his finger grazing over your pubic mound in a tickling touch that makes you buck into him. 

“Go on, pup. Speak.”

“Okay- uh where do you want me to start?” He hums, looking up in false contemplation.

“Start from the moment that you got to his place. I’ve already heard the beginning. He told me all about you sucking him off in his car.” He grins, clearly enjoying the effect that that sentence had on you. You nod your head, trying your best to block out his tantalizing touch lingering inches from your clit. 

“Well, he offered me something to drink… we shared a bottle of soju.” Seungmin’s gaze is burning into you as you speak. Attentive with a hint of something unrecognizable. He tongues his cheek a bit, something that he does when he’s thinking or listening. “ I was complaining about finishing my share of it too quickly so he offered me some of his… he said that.. He, uh..”

Seungmin’s finger crawls down your mound brushing against your clit and drawing your attention back you him. Your nervous gaze meets his steady one. “Focus on me.” He applies a bit more pressure and you squirm in his lap. “Speak, baby.”

“He said that he’d give it to me if he could feed it to me.” 

“He poured it into your mouth?” You shake your head and Seungmin starts to ghost his finger back and forth over your bud, you sigh at the feather light contact. 

“He put it in his mouth and tipped my head back then he spit it into my mouth.” A heavy breath escapes your boyfriend, flaring his nostrils as he processes the information. “Then he kissed me.”

“With tongue?” You nod and he presses firmly against your clit. Your hips grind into the touch before you can fully process it but Seungmin’s free hand grounds you to his lap. “What did he taste like?”

You moan, the mixture of smooth circles being rubbed into your aching bud and recalling the nasty memories of the night before is sending a surge through your system. “Soju, mint, a bit of- a bit of - cake.” He lets up, returning to his featherlight touch.

“Cake?” You nod, sucking in a long breath. “We shared some before we got to his place.”

“How romantic.” He teases, rolling his eyes. “Did he fuck you on the couch?”

“Nuh uh, his bed.” Seungmin, removes his hand and dips his pointer and middle finger into his mouth. You watch as his tongue laves over the digits carefully before his hand snakes back into your pants. “We made out on the couch, he undressed me and sucked my nipples. He fingered me a bit and I jerked him off.” 

That delicious pressure is reapplied when you give him more details. He rubs tight circles over you with his spit slick fingers. So that’s how you win this game? The more details you give the more pleasure you get. A moan erupts from your chest, echoing through the car and dying in the stuffy space. 

“Did you come when he sucked your nipples?” You shake your head and he tsks, a faint grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “So sensitive.”

“He said the same thing. He told me he’s never met a girl who could cum from that. He kept sucking them and they were so s-sensitive.” You’re gushing at this point, ruining your flimsy panties and dampening the crotch of your pajamas. “I jerked him off while he did it. He was moaning and he - he sounded..” 

Seungmin slows down his ministrations when you seem to get lost in the pleasure. You look down at him, desperate eyes pleading for more but his stern gaze tells you exactly what you already know. You have to earn it. “How’d he sound, baby?”

“He sounded so.. So pretty, Min. I told him he sounds as pretty as he looks.”

“Prettier than me?” Is he teasing? Or is he jealous? Is it both? No matter, you shake your head, sating any sprout of jealousy that may be budding in his chest. 

“Never. No one is.” Seungmin smiles, you’re so pretty like this. Glazed eyes staring into his in a desperate attempt at proving that you’re the good girl that he knows you are. Your drooling cunt pulsing against his fingers, silently asking to be filled. Desperately begging to be fucked.

“Go on.” 

“He picked me up and carried me to his bed. He bent me over it and fucked me like that.” He taps your clit, prompting you to give him more but that’s not what does it. It’s the tight feeling of his cock straining against his jeans underneath you that gets you to start rambling. 

“He didn’t fill me up like you do though. You’re thicker than him, you make me feel so much fuller.” You get the pressure you were craving, wide sloppy circles leave you chasing the stimulation. 

“Tryna suck up to me, pup?” You deny it, shaking your head frantically. “ I don’t need you to tell me that I fuck you better. I know I do.”

“Okay, s-sorry.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing is starting to pick up and Seungmin decides to allow your hips to chase his movement. That decision was more in his favor than yours since the grinding of your hips gives him the stimulation that he’s dying for. He’s never found himself interested in the details of your sexual escapades. Just the knowledge that you’ve been with someone else was enough to get him off but this is different. It’s delicious and finds himself hanging on to every single word that leaves your lips.

“He fucked me from behind and he - he was spanking me. He spanked me and I moaned - oh my god - I moaned for him just like t-that. He told me - told me that I was dripping and making a fucking mess. He called me his messy baby and he wrapped his hand around my hair and - and pulled my head back - Fuck, Min, fuck fuck fuck.”

This is exactly what he wanted. Your tongue peeking from between your lips and your eyes hazy with need. He wanted you fucked out and pliable. He wanted you to relax. He can know anything that he wants now and selfishly he wants to know more. He wants to know everything.

“Mmm is that right?” His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it over your clit “If my messy baby tells me more she can feel my fingers fill her up.”

“God, yes, please. Need it, need it.”

“Gotta speak, pup.”

“Okay - uh uh after he fucked me like that I got on top and I rode his cock and - and he felt deeper like that and he looked so so pretty under me and I- Oh fuck, Seungmin.” Your head fell back in a moan as his digits sunk into you. He sighed as your tight walls squeezed him as a literal warm welcome to his favorite place on this earth. 

“Tell me how you rode him while you ride my fingers.” His free hand trails up your stomach, his larghetto touches a clear contrast to the pornographic moans and squelches filling the small space. His fingers wrap around your neck once he reaches your clavicle, his nails digging in ever so slightly.

“Eyes on me, lemme see you.” Your lids flutter open revealing your hazy orbs to your lover. His cock twitches at the sight. “Tell me.”

You gulp, there’s too much spit in your mouth but at the same time your throat feels dry. You want to cry, it feels so good. So dirty. “I pinned his hands above his head - fuck.” 

Seungmin could’ve lost it there. That could’ve made him bust but he kept his composure. The mental image of you grinding on his friend's dick while you pinned him to the bed made him feel things that he never imagined. 

He scissored his fingers against your clenching walls, encouraging you to give him more. You blinked, once, twice before trying to regain your composure. “And I was grinding in a circle, he was looking up at me like I hung the fucking stars in the sky and I felt s-so fucking good. So fucking powerful. When I started fucking him he was praising me.”

Seungmin’s cock is leaking, dripping and making a sticky mess in his briefs but he couldn't care less than he does right now. Not when he has you bouncing over his fingers with the most filthy memories being recited from your plump drooling lips. “What did he call you?”

“Pretty. He said ‘m so pretty and - and he said - he said that I’m the best fuck he’s had in so long. Said I use his cock so well. He - He said -” He fucks his fingers deeper into you and you can’t help but pause, gasping for air as you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

“What’s the matter? Hyunjin got your tongue?” You cry out, panting as he fucks you deep against your g-spot. “Did you like when he praised you?” You shake your head so fast that it nearly looks like you’re throwing your neck in a circle. Seungmin chuckles, how cute.

“Does my girl want me to praise her more?” A drooling whimper escapes you and Seungmin leans forward to lick the dribble from the corner of your mouth. Planting a kiss on the spot. 

“Does she want me to tell her how good she feels when she opens up for me?” A rush of arousal floods out of you and for a second you can swear that you’ve never been this wet in your entire life. Seungmin is the only partner who has ever left you feeling completely satisfied yet right now you feel like this is so much more. He’s unlocked a new level. 

“Such a good dumb pup.” He rasps, darkness clouding his tone. “You’re such a pleasure to use.” He kisses you, it’s sloppy and rough. “Is that how you want it done?”

Words don’t make sense anymore. Not with Seungmin’s fingers fucking into you so deep that you could see stars. The fuzzy streaks of the streetlights hypnotizes you as he fucks you closer and closer to the release building up in the pit of your stomach. “How else did he fuck you?”

You snap back to reality, tongue hanging from your open mouth. You attempt to refocus your gaze but to no prevail. “Against the… the wall.” You’re breathless, spent, you’re close.

“Baby.” Seungmin growls, calling your attention as he thrusts into you especially rough. “Did Hyunjin cum inside of this cunt?”

Your anxiety would be creeping up your spine again if there wasn’t already a thick sheet of pleasure encasing it. Fuck, you forgot about that rule. “Answer. Me.” His words are punctuated with a punishing thrust, effectively drawing an answer out of you. 

“Yes, yes h-he did. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m s- Fuck, Min, Seung - Seungmin, fuck.” This is the part where it feels like a punishment. The way that Seungmin’s fingers hammer into you  while his thumb rubs at your clit is dizzying. The stars littering your vision get brighter with every thrust. 

“I’m sorry.” You cry out as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. He kisses it away. A gentle action that is a stark contrast to the way that he’s pounding you.

“You thought you could get away with that, huh?” He rasps, leaning you forward so that your back is resting on the seat in back of you. His free hand supports your lower back while the other abuses your cunt. “You know better.” 

Your moans and screams do little to deter him from ruining you. Your palm lays flat against the foggy window giving a clear indication of what the two of you are doing on this warm Tuesday night, if your screams weren’t enough of a sign. “You know that only I get to fill this pussy. You know that.” He pulls away from you abruptly, leaving you panting, empty and spasming around nothing. You whine as you try to catch your breath. 

He gives himself a second to take you in but really it’s a second for him to avoid busting in his jeans. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” You’re breathless but he knows you mean it. His eyes don’t show it but he’s already forgiven you. He slips his hand back into your pants and feels around your soaked cunt. 

Seungmin closes his eyes for a second, taking in every beautiful inch of you. He can see it if he closes his eyes, he’s spent so many hours between your thighs that he’s got it memorized. 

“You’re so fucking wet.” He groans, losing himself for a moment. “Are you wet for me or him?” 

“You.” He leans you up so that your forehead rests against his. He starts rubbing at your clit again, gradually building up speed. 

“Say it again. Tell me my puppy is only this wet for me.” His free hand guides your hips against him and he moans at the friction. His cock jumps - or tries to jump - against the tight fabric. 

“Your puppy is only wet for you, baby. Only you.” His fingers move faster, the knot in your stomach pulls tighter, you’re close. So close.

“Again, baby, you only get this dumb for me right? Only get this wet for me.”

“Only you, Min. Only you.” Your rhythm falters as your orgasm starts to spill over. 

“Tell me you love me, pup. Tell me.” He breathes and you inhale deeply, exhaling with a shaky declaration of love as your orgasm rips through you. 

“I love you, I love you, I love -” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against you as he busts in his jeans. You grind against him as he bucks up into you and the two of you ride out your orgasms together. His tongue explores your mouth in a feverish kiss, moans tumble from the both of you and you only pull away when the burning in your lungs starts to become unbearable. 

“I love you too.” 

Thank you reading! Please like and share, it makes my day!

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

[mrchiipchrome]

Talkin' 'Bout My Girl

W.C. - 6.3 k

Warnings: throwing up ig?

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

Lucy’s calling, answer me, Lucy’s answer me. 

Your phone blasts the annoying ringtone Lucy had created the latest time you’d met her, she’d insisted on having a unique one so that you’d answer all her calls. Spoiler alert: you didn’t answer all her calls.

Groaning loudly as your sleep is interrupted by the older woman calling you, she obviously didn’t think about the fact that you were in a totally different time zone and therefore calling you at 7 in the morning wasn’t a good idea.

“Fucking hell Luce, why’re you calling me at 7 in the fucking morning?” You can hear the way she laughs at your grumpy tone and how she sucks in a breath after a second or two. Well at least one of you was enjoying yourselves.

“Ou, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, did the grumpy wittle baby not get her 8 hours of sleep tonight?” She teases through the phone, the rustling of your sheets as you sit up echoing through the room that’s practically empty, like a hollowed out coconut.

“Actually, since you woke me up at 7, I did in fact barely even get 4 hours since Em dragged me away to a party in Connecticut, got wasted and then made me drive us both home.” This just makes the older woman laugh even more. For some reason, you thought that she’d be a bit more responsible and tell you off for going to a party, but she didn’t.

“Well that’s good then, Em is finally making you go through college the correct way, by going to parties.” You groan loudly as you stretch out the tightness in your limbs, the headache that appears soon goes away just as quickly. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you stand up from the bed, dragging your hand over your face before slapping yourself a few times to really wake up.

“Yeah, the proper college experience or something like that.” Lucy hums at your statement, her usually thoughtless brain quickly reforming to its usual state. 

“Mhm, well I’ll call tonight then, don’t sleep too late.” You say goodbye to the defender quickly before she hangs up the phone, venturing into the kitchen to pull open the door of the fridge, substituting a warm cup of bitter coffee for an energy drink.

“You’re going to be my best friend the coming four years, aren't you?” You look at the ice cold can in your hand as you speak, smiling sarcastically as you pop the tab open and take a swig, the weird aftertaste of pure caffeine leaving a streak down your tongue.

“Fucking hell, why do I not have anything at home?” As you look into the empty pantry, you suddenly understand why you should’ve taken Em’s advice earlier in the week, ‘fill your kitchen up like you have a whole family to feed’. Apparently a whole family equaled a drunk Em.

Peeking into the living room, you immediately see Em fast asleep on the couch, half her body hanging off the small piece of furniture like she was some drunk dad in a movie. Her mouth is wide open and the snores escaping from between her lips are just brutal.

Her party clothes from the night before are still donning her body, the dress barely staying intact after a night of tossing and turning to find a comfortable fit on the uncomfortable couch. But at least she’s not throwing up in the bathroom, so that's a plus.

You sigh, the quiet patting of your bare feet hitting the floor reaching your ears, fingers wrapping around the discarded blanket laying on the floor beside her on the floor and pulling it up to cover her body. She shifts underneath it, mumbling incoherently at you.

“Thanks mom.” You giggle at her sleepy presumption and she grumbles before turning her back to you like a moody teenager.

“Not your mum Em, but no problem anyway.” Walking back to the kitchen, you quickly find your phone before going to look for your wallet in your room, the sleek black leather laying on the floor beneath your mattress.

“Okay, just got to swing by the kitchen again then I’m off.” You mumble to yourself, patting your sleep shorts to see that you had everything you needed with you. The old Arsenal shorts from your time in the academy and the brief time you’d spent in the first team were the first things you’d packed for your move to America.

The comfort of home you supposed.

The simple t-shirt you had on was a Harvard one you’d gotten practically the first day on campus, the small ‘sports’ being printed just beneath the massive lettering of Harvard across your chest. It’s still warm enough outside to not need a jacket, you think to yourself, the sun shining brightly in the sky.

Picking up your can when you pass by the kitchen, you quickly make your way towards the door, finding the keys to your car hanging on the small hook meant for jackets. The metal ring you put them on clinks as you pull your keys off the hook, pulling your shoes over your bare feet before you turn the lock with a satisfying click, unlocking the door before disappearing out of it. Your key turns in the lock as you close the door, effectively securing Em inside the apartment.

The nice old lady living in the flat beside your own walks out of her door at the same time you do yours, her kind smile immediately filling you with a comforting warmth, her grandmotherly energy enveloping you fully, almost transforming you back into that little kid who would sit and wait for your gran to read a bedtime story.

“Hello dear, what are you doing up so early?” Her southern accent makes her words almost unintelligible, but you understand them either way, nothing was worse than drunk Em trying to speak. The large Newfoundland dog wagging his tail beside her yaps excitedly as he notices you, his entire body wiggling.

 “Oh I’m off to the bakery to get some pastries, Em got really drunk at a party yesterday and I don’t have anything for breakfast, so bread and pastries it is.” She looks amusedly at you, despite only having been neighbours for about two or so weeks, it was like the older woman had seen both you and Em grow up the entirety of your lives.

“Yeah that does sound like Em, don’it.” You laugh along with her, walking closer to pet Bubba who jumped at you as soon as you were close enough for him. “Bubba, no, you know we don’t jump on people.”

Laughing at the gentle giant, your hands soon tangle in his soft fur, giving him a bunch of kisses. 

“Oh Mrs. Peters, you know it’s his fault that he gets so excited, he’s just a little baby.” She rolls her eyes fondly at you and her dog, a simple tug of his leash making the fluffy dog go back to his owner. Moving towards the stairs you quickly turn back to ask her;

“Mrs. Peters, do you want anything from the bakery?”  She smiles but shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want anything, before she enters the elevator and disappears from your line of sight.

You hum the tune to the song playing in your headphones as you walk down the stairs quickly, arms nearly tied to your body as you make your way down to the bottom floor of the building. The last step is one you jump over, walking over to the door that opens almost automatically and exiting the building completely.

The rays of the brightly shining sun hit your face as soon as you step out into the warm weather, Frank Ocean’s soft voice floating through your headphones as you walk, the wind blowing onto your exposed arms. 

It wasn’t often that people would just walk through the neighbourhood just to appreciate the scenery, to appreciate the nature and the small things that often seemed unimportant when living in such a fast tracked life as you did.

But you couldn’t just ignore the beauty in the simple things, the beauty in the small flowers growing along the road, the beauty in the gravel crunching under your feet as you walked, the warmth of the sun against your skin and the cooling effect of the wind.

It was all so beautiful, the calm and simple beauty.

You could find beauty in everything you saw, if you knew where to look for it, the soft smile on the mother’s face as she watched her toddler climb on the structure, the bird chirping as you pass it by, the old man sitting on a park bench. 

The world wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, they just hadn’t looked at it the right way.

The chime of the bell hanging above the door takes you back to only hours before, when you’d been at the diner with the divine girl, Nika. God, she was the embodiment of beauty, Aphrodite reborn as a human. 

The local bakery is well known among students, professors and newcomers alike, everyone knows about the bakery with the best pastries in the whole of Boston. Knowing that, it’s not even close to surprising when the line to the register reaches across the room, looking up at the menu of sorts to see what you want to pass the time.

There’s music flowing out the speakers, covering the low sound of people speaking to each other with its instrumental cling. You didn’t mind it though, it made everything just feel more real in a sense, there was no telling why, you don’t even get a chance at trying to figure it out as your phone starts ringing again, though this time it wasn’t Lucy’s voice ringing out, instead it was the infamous song of Arsenal, The Angel aka North London forever.

“Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call? Did Spurs win?” You were both Arsenal through and through, but you always liked to tease her about her being a Spurs fan, the arch rivals of Arsenal being one of the things the older woman hated the most.

“Thank god, they didn’t win. No, I’m just calling to check up on you, ask how you’re settling in and all that.” She tries to be nonchalant in her tone, but  having known the blonde for as long as you had, you knew that there was something more to it. Thankfully, the line’s length has barely changed since the second you walked in, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what she’s playing at.

“Leah, what do you really want? I know you as well as you know yourself.” When you hear her sigh you pump your fist in the air triumphantly, getting more than a few judgy looks and glances from the people around you.

“Well, Jordy and I are having a bit of an argument right, and as our unofficial kid we need you to settle this.” You nod before you realize that she can’t see you, quickly replying verbally.

“What’s the arguing about?” She almost cuts you off with the speed at which she responds at, the smallest giggle to her tone giving you the impression that the matter at hand wasn’t as serious as she’d first made it out to be.

“Who do you think Blu loves the most?” Giving it a second before you answer to give the illusion that you actually thought about it, you can almost imagine the smile on her face, thinking that you’re going to back her.

“Neither of you, Blu loves me the most.” Leah lets out an offended gasp at your statement, and you can hear Jordan’s laugh in the back for a second before a playful slap can be heard. On your side of the line, only a giggle can be heard with the simple murmuring of day to day life in the background.

“That’s only because you give him so many treats.” The blonde groans at you, but you just smile smugly in return, not that she could see.

“It sucks to suck doesn’t it, Lee.” The line of people in front of you gets smaller and smaller with every passing minute as people order, with there only being around five or so people in front of you now.

“Well I wouldn’t know much about sucking, right Jord?” When you finally catch on to what she’s insinuating, you gag, not even caring that there are tens of people around you who can hear.

“Ew, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to in your spare time.” The sentence is whispered, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. “Listen, I’ve got to go, I’m about to order some pastries for me and Em so I’ll call you back later.” 

By now you’re nearly at the front of the line, about to get what you came for. But they didn’t seem to want to end the call, nor the teasing they were putting you through.

“Ooh, does your girlfriend want a sweet breakfast?” If the two could see you they’d guaranteed to be laughing their heads off, the look of pure disgust on your face simply hilarious.

“Em’s not my girlfriend, even the thought of that is just like ew.” You shudder when you think about it, the girl had quickly become one of your closest friends and to even entertain the idea of being with her romantically was just gross.

“So you’re just buying her breakfast platonically?” Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you quickly plaster a smile on your face as you reach the counter. 

“Hi, I’d like four croissants and a caramel coffee.” The cashier’s name tag reads ‘Amelie’, the girl looking at you confused as if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. The women on the other side of the phone snicker and if you weren’t raised the way you were, you would’ve hung up by now.

“A caramel coffee? You mean a caramel macchiato?” She questions dryly, like she really doesn’t enjoy her work.

“Yeah let’s go with that.” You pull out your wallet from your pocket, fishing the card out whilst trying your very hardest to not drop the phone sitting in the space between your head and your shoulder. 

“That’ll be 14 dollars.” Blipping your card against the side of the maschine, the transaction goes through without a problem thankfully. You smile at the girl again as she tells you that your order will be ready soon, and as you walk over to sit down at a table you can hear the kissy noises they’re making.

“Did you two just collectively decide not to hear me say ‘me and Em’, the idiot got wasted last night and I don’t have anything at home, courtesy of that drunk idiot. So me being the great friend that I am, decided that it was better to get breakfast than having to deal with a hangry and hungover Em.” You can hear the way they let out sounds of realization, understanding what you mean.

“Hey, why didn’t you bring us treats when we were hungover?” Leah asks, apparently offended that you hadn’t done this for them.

“Well, you two never took me out to parties so I never knew when you were hungover.” Despite them not being able to see it, you shrug absentmindedly, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get to go with them.

“Fair enough.” 

“Listen, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got to carry everything home and I only have two hands, so.” The two say goodbye before hanging up, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you walk up to the counter, taking the paper bag with you as you walk out into the warm weather again. 

The walk back home is just as peaceful as the walk to the bakery, maybe the usual Boston had decided to take a break for just a day. Well whatever it was, you were thankful for it, your sleep deprived mind couldn’t handle much more than it already had.

When the lock clicks and you open the door, you’re met with the sound of groaning coming from the kitchen. Taking off your shoes at the entrance, you hang your keys back on the designated hook before you move towards the kitchen.

Peeking around the corner and into the kitchen, you quickly find the source of the noise. Because Em was standing in the middle of the room, banging her head against the counter clearly in quite a bit of pain. 

Why she was hitting her head against the counter then, you didn’t know, it’s completely irrational. But if that’s what she wanted to do then you’d let her, it wasn’t really any of your business.

“Em? What are you doing?” She looks up at you when she hears your voice, her gaze murderous, her hands in her hair, massaging her head like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

“Oh, grumpy you’re finally home, where have you been and why did you let me drink so much last night?” She groans out from between clenched teeth, your laugh filling the room pitifully within seconds at her words. It is funny after all, it was Em herself who insisted on drinking last night and her suffering the consequences of her actions was hilarious.

“I was out being an amazing friend and getting us both some breakfast.” You place the bag on top of the counter, almost right in front of Em’s face, but when she makes the motion of grabbing the bag and consuming the contents, you snatch it from the counter.

The older girl whines at your actions, her head coming down against the marble countertops again, the repetitive thumping annoying you more than you’d like to admit.

“Listen, I didn’t spend 14 dollars just for you to throw it back up. Off you go, get ready and for god’s sake please do not throw up in my living room.” Putting your hands on the back of her shoulders, you gently lead her all the way out of the room and into your bathroom, sitting her in front of the toilet before going back to the kitchen. “Oh, I talked to Luce earlier, she wants to thank you for making me ‘experience college the right way’.”  

Emma lets out a groan that sounds like a hybrid of a hawk getting piped and the death whistle, was getting praised by THE Lucy Bronze really worth the terrible hangover? Only Em could answer that, and she was currently hanging over the seat of your toilet, puking her guts up.

You can hear Em flushing and then moving to the sink, turning the tap on and taking some into her mouth, swirling the water around. Her bare feet slap disturbingly against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards the kitchen, your back turned towards her as she comes up behind you, her arm slinging around your shoulders.

“Wait, Luce? Luce as in Lucy Bronze? Lucy Bronze, the three time Champions League winner?” You shrug at her, turning back around to face the rest of the kitchen with Em hot on your heels.

“Yeah, I mean knowing her is not impressive.” Em’s wide eyes suggest a different story, her hands coming up to lay on your shoulders as she shakes your body back and forth.

“Wait, you know THE Lucy Bronze?” Taking her hands off your shoulders, you push the coffee cup into her free hand and a croissant into her other one. She nods thankfully before she hops up and sits on the counter, the small bag being placed between your bodies as you sit beside her on the counter.

“Did I forget to tell you that? And also why would she call me if we didn’t know each other?” Your eyebrows knit together, thinking back to all the conversations you and Em had over the past two and a half weeks.

“UH yeah, how do you know the best defender in the world?” The brunette girl slaps your shoulder playfully, studying your side profile out the corner of her eye. You look back at her in the exact same way, a small almost unknown smile on your face.

“Our mums knew each other, I’ve known Lucy since I was in diapers. And besides, I wasn’t the only one out here hiding family.” Raising your eyebrows accusingly, the girl beside you gives you a look of perplexion, not understanding what you mean by the statement.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her feet swinging off the edge, nearly smacking against your cabinet doors every time.

“I mean your scary older brother that you never told me about.” You say matter of factly, pointing at her with a ‘you know who I’m talking about’ look. The ‘ahhh’ sound that escapes her lips when she realizes who you’re talking about sounds out through the kitchen, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Oh, Cal? Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from flushed away. Oh and that reminds  me, you have to come with me to this dinner he invited me to next week. No way I’m third wheeling all night long with him and his latest girlfriend.” The snort you let out is involuntary, the American girl’s description of her brother very vivid, and hopefully correct. It wasn’t like you’d seen her brother ever before, so you didn’t actually know what he looked like.

“Yeah sure I’ll help you feel less single, but no hand holding and no pretending to be together.” You look at her pointedly, making your point totally clear, no fake dating, that never turned out right. Em nods her head as she shrugs, as if to tell you ‘fair enough’.

“No way that I’d go out with you anyways, you’re far too grumpy for my liking. Maybe you can set me up with one of your mates in England.” Her hand covers her mouth so that she doesn’t laugh at your horrified expression, clearly you’re disturbed at the mere thought of Boston Tea Party part two happening if they ever broke up. 

“One Boston tea party is enough mate, we don’t need another.” The sip of coffee that Em had just taken covers  basically the entirety of your kitchen in a single second, the girl beside you spitting it out in surprise. “Em, come on. I’m not cleaning that up just so you know.”

Jumping down from the counter, you nearly slip on Em’s newly spit out coffee, only escaping the sticky mess by a millimeter. Her laughter clings out through the apartment, and Em makes sure to let you know that she’s sorry by telling you through her bouts of laughter.

“Look under the sink, you’ll find what you need under there.” The sound of the cabinet door opening can be heard from where you’re standing in the middle of the living room, picking up all the various things littered around the space. 

“Girl, why do you have everything under here except paper towels?” The brunette calls out for you, and you shake your head in amusement at her, there was no way that Em hadn’t thought about looking in any other cabinet than the one she had her head stuck in at the moment.

“Look in the compartment above, see if you’ll find them there.” You get the confirmation that she’s found it when she lets out a short ‘aha’, you can almost imagine the way her head hits the corner of the sink when she gets up, the loud ‘fuck that hurt’ being very telling.

“You okay?” Looking around the wall in the direction of the kitchen, you see Em sticking her hand out, the thumb sticking up telling you that she was fine.

It didn’t take as long as either of you had thought to clean the kitchen up, only a few minutes and even less to clean the mess in the living room. Soon enough, the television was turned on and the two of you were sitting in silence watching the looney tunes.

“Do you think the duck piped the rabbit or is it the other way ‘round?” Em questions, her tone completely serious, as if she wasn’t asking the craziest question ever.

“Uh I don’t think Bugs Bunny piped Daffy Duck.” Looking at her incredulously, she only responds with a shrug, her theory about the two cartoon animals being shot down almost immediately.

“Well they do have sexual tension that’s for sure.” She states matter of factly, pointing at you like you would agree. Spoiler alert: you didn’t agree at all.

“Mate what goes even on in your head?” You ask her, looking at her as if she belonged in a mental institution. Em scratches her head nonchalantly, stretching out her legs and placing her feet in your lap. “Do you not have anywhere to be?”

“Like where?” She asks, her words coming out mumbled as she’s biting her nails, chewing on the bits before she spits them out. When she looks at you she sees the judgemental look on your face, stopping what she’s doing with no real sense of urgency.

“I don’t know, maybe at home? Do you not have like a hundred plants that need to be watered?” She springs up from the couch, running to the entrance where she puts her shoes on before she shouts out a quick ‘bye’ and runs out the house.

“What is she on?” You laugh through the sentence, the pure hilarity and absurdity of most situations involving your newest best friend making you laugh more often than not.

With Em being in and out of your apartment practically every day, the week leading up to the dinner with her brother and his ‘newest’ girlfriend passes by extremely fast, feeling more like a day than a week.

“Em, what am I supposed to wear? Is it like a fancy restaurant or more chill?” You shout from your room, Em changing into her clothes in the living room. The clothing hangers click against each other as you look through the clothes you’d managed to put up over the past few weeks, many different button ups and a few normal t-shirts.

“You’re asking me this 10 minutes before we go?!” She shouts back, surprised that you’re not already finished dressing yourself and getting ready, seeing as you were the first one out the house normally.

“Yeah, I just realized that I never asked you what to wear.” You shrug to no one in particular, seeing as you were the only one present in your room.

“Didn’t your parents take you to a bunch of dinners with their clients?” Em’s voice carries through the walls, especially with the woman coming closer and closer to your door.

“I’ve been to a fair few, but in my defense I’ve always had stylists helping me so putting together outfits isn’t really one of my strong points.” Pulling out a few items of clothing, you hold them up so that they’re almost exclusively in your line of sight, looking to see if they’d match. 

“Fair enough, it’s not too fancy, just wear that linen shirt and some of your fancy pants.” She peeks her head into the room, looking at where you’re standing in your jeans, seemingly debating whether to wear the simple white button down or a Harvard t-shirt. 

“Trousers?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily at the brunette, a small teasing smile on your face.

“Yeah yeah, you know what I mean.” Emma rolls her eyes at you whilst you place the two articles of clothing back into your closet, the hangers clicking easily against the pole they’re hooked on.

“I do, I just like to annoy you.” Hearing the door click closed, you pull the linen shirt off its hangar and pull it over your head before you unbutton your jeans and pull the ‘fancy pants’ over your legs. Buttoning up the various buttons on the slacks, you quickly tuck your shirt in before opening the door and tapping Em on her head as you pass her.

“Shut up man.” You look back at Em when you reach the entrance, picking out your fanciest pairs of shoes to show her.

“Those look good?” She studies them for a second or two before nodding diligently, pulling on a pair of relatively fancy shoes too.

“They’re better than your beat up sneakers at least.” She shrugs at your offended look, almost telling you that it’s only fair since they are beat up.

“They still have at least two, three years left in them alright. There’s no need for new ones if they work just fine.” For the second time that day, you take your keys off the hook in the hall, letting Em walk out the open door before you so that you can lock everything up.

“Are we finally taking your car?” She asks, seeing the little metal key on your keychain with hers nowhere in sight. Normally you were insistent on taking hers as your baby was almost priceless, a reminder of home that you’d come to love over the past week, seeing as you’d gotten it shortly after signing your first professional contract.

“Yeah, I need to impress your brother, right?” Smirking cheekily over your shoulder, you see Em smiling widely at you as the lock on the door clicks closed, waiting for you to follow her into the elevator.

“Can I-” She starts off, the cool air in the lift making the hair on your arms raise, the skin becoming all prickly like that of a goose.

“No.” You can see the way Em pouts almost like a petulant child through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at you.

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask you.” Raising a single eyebrow at her, you look down at her through the corner of your eye, like you did more often than you were willing to admit.

“No, but I do know you and that’s enough, no one other than me will ever drive my car.” The late afternoon sun glows bright orange like hot coals as the two of you step out into the humid air, the garage not too far away from the building’s entrance. Picking out the right key, you quickly unlock the door before pulling it up, revealing the gorgeous red ‘67 Mustang that Em always wanted you to drive.

The girl in question wolf whistles when she sees the car, a hand coming up to shelter her eyes from the sun beaming into them, moving towards you with slow steps. Walking into the garage, you motion for the other girl to open the door on the passenger side as you plop down into the driver’s seat. 

You don’t have to feel around for very long to find the ignition, as you push the clinking keys in, smiling satisfied as the motor revs up loudly. Applying a small amount of pressure to the gaspedal, it’s not long until you’ve navigated your way out of the garage successfully and pulled onto the main road.

Pulling the seat belt over your body as soon as you’ve made it out to the main road, you waste no time in pulling your sunglasses out of their compartment and putting them over your eyes so as to not get completely blinded by the sun.

“Okay, give me the rundown of your brother, likes and dislikes, hobbies, aspirations, all the basic knowledge apart from him looking like the rat from flushed away.” Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, you peek down at the phone that’s currently giving you directions for the restaurant, the beautiful nature almost mesmerizing.

“His full name is Callum Adam Whitmore, he’s 23 years old and he plays basketball for UConn. He likes sports, hitting on anything that has a pulse, pretending he knows how to play the guitar and pretentiously explaining movies. He dislikes losing, being told no by our parents and me on a few occasions. Hobbies are partying and gaming, aspires to go to the NBA. That’s all.” Em lists, giving you all the information you need to adequately make the assumption that Callum Adam Whitmore is kind of an arse.

“Well he sounds…nice?” There’s no denying how questionable you sound, clearly not believing the words coming out of your own mouth. Em looks at you over the tops of her own glasses, giving you a skeptical look.

“No he doesn’t, he’s an ass and to use the correct terminology, a fuckboy.” Em pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose, turning the knobs on the inbuilt stereo for it to start playing music, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations flowing softly out the speakers.

“Sing with me grumpy! I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me, I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees.” She sings loudly, her hands gesturing for you to join her in singing as you shake your head, a small smile on your face at her antics. “Come on, sing it man! I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”

Finally relenting at the last second possible, you join the older girl in song happily.

“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” Tapping along to the beat just as the last note of the song rings out, you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, effectively ending the little karaoke session you were participating in.

“Holy shit man, that went so fast.” Em pats your shoulder as you pull into a parking space at the corner of the big parking lot, taking the keys out of the ignition before you fold your sunglasses and place them back into their compartment.

“Perks of having a really fast car.” Waiting from the brunette to step out of the car, you don’t waste a second in locking up the extremely expensive piece of machinery. You take a second to fix your hair in the rear view mirror, even though you don’t really know why, there wasn’t really anyone in that restaurant to impress now that you knew that Em’s brother was a total ass, but your instinct told you to. 

“Can you hurry up?” The girl in question asks from her place in front of the restaurant door and you send her a sarcastic smile in response, half running half walking up to her.

She doesn’t say anything as she pushes the door open, in fact she doesn’t say anything until you two reach the hostess stand where she tells the worker the name of the reservation.

As the worker leads the two of you over to the table there’s a million different thoughts running through your head, why were you nervous? Why did it feel like your stomach was about to explode? Why were there so many tables in the restaurant?

You only really tune back into the real world around you when Em pinches your side, her head turned towards a table with a man sitting alone, presumably her brother. The man stands up and walks around the table to reach your side, bringing your friend into a familial embrace, before he turns to you and sticks his hand out.

There’s no avoiding the sense of deja vu you get from the action, remembering the girl from the party almost a week ago who’d done the exact same thing, but then again it was the most common form of introducing yourself.

“Cal Whitmore.” His voice is on the deeper side, not Darth Vader deep but definitely on the deeper side of the spectrum. His calloused hand grips onto yours in a confident handshake, fingers gripping onto yours harder than needed, which fits the cocky description Em had put forth.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You smile staley at him, the man moving back to his side of the table as you pull out the chair for the girl beside you, only sitting down when she’s settled.

“So, where’s your darling date Cal?” Em asks her older brother teasingly, looking around the restaurant like she’d appear just out of anywhere.

“Calm yourself Em, she went to wash her hands.” He leans back in his chair cockily, his eyes glued to the backside of one of the waitresses passing by like some horny teenage boy.

“You know what, he does kind of look like the rat from Flushed Away.” You lean in closer to Em as you whisper, studying the man’s face carefully and noticing increasing similarities between the stopmotion rat and the tall man.

“Em, what the fuck, have you been telling people that I look like the rat from Flushed Away again? I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.” He looks at the girl beside you in disappointment, his thin lips turning down quickly. Well that was until a sweet voice cut in, a soft hand with fingers adorned with rings placed on his shoulder, moving down to his chest softly.

“What has she done now?” That accented voice was familiar, and as your eyes trail up from the stranger's hand to her chest and then lastly to her face you soon realize why it was so damn familiar. The careful upwards tug of her lips to the slight curls of her hair and the furrow in her brow, there was no denying that the girl standing before you was someone you recognized.

Fucking hell, you’d just taken your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend out on a date a mere week before meeting him officially. You were officially fucked.

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘fake dating becomes too real’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 19 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (500w) Best friends. Repressed feelings.

Imagine Bucky insisting on being your wingman. You’ve been friends for years, and he’s had to watch you repeatedly get your heart broken, the guys you chose inevitably turning out to be assholes. He doesn’t blame you, but it’s been unbearable standing by, trying to be supportive, all the while living in denial about being in love with you. After your latest horror story of a date, he reaches his limit and formulates a foolproof plan of helping you find someone. With his skills of easily reading people, it’s not hard to convince you, your agreement coming before either of you can really think it through.  You don’t even question it when Bucky seemingly finds red flags with all the guys you’re interested in, the dating apps known for letting you down. Going to public places is just as fruitless, most of the men frequenting bars not up to either of your standards.  When he can sense your growing frustration, about ready to swear men off completely, he finally stops grasping at straws. Instead of coming up with excuses as to why someone’s the wrong choice for you, he lowers his impossible standards and puts more effort into finding you a good potential partner. Still deep in denial about his feelings for you, Bucky convinces himself he’s just looking out for a friend, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy. He’s only pacing his apartment because he’s concerned about your wellbeing, your date now entering hour two. The nearly crushing grip he has on his phone isn’t because he’s jealous, he’s just praying for an update. Your eventual text does little to ease the rollercoaster of emotions the night has taken him on, the date turning out to be a flop, the blame falling on you. You’re so used to dealing with the wrong men that when a possibly good one comes along, your own awkwardness ruins it. Because Bucky’s a glutton for punishment, he offers to take you on a pretend date, intent on helping you over this additional hump, wanting you to have a good experience. It’s definitely not because you’re all he dreams about and this is the only way he’ll ever get to flirt with you. Whatever limitations you thought were hindering you, Bucky doesn’t see them, finding all your little quirks endearing. The obvious blush on your cheeks and soft stuttering when you’re caught off guard with a compliment. The occasional fidgeting with the silverware when the silence starts to build. The way you cover your mouth when you erupt with laughter. The realization of how fucking in love with you he actually is hits him like a force, his bite of food having to be choked down, your bright smile leaving him breathless. He never wanted this to happen, but as Bucky gazes upon your innocent questioning look, he knows there’s no coming back from this. The only thing he can do is hope that maybe he’s the one you’ve been searching for all along.

Day 18 | Imagine... Masterlist | Day 20

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[gilbertscurls]

heyy girl first of alll your writing is the best and best writer here and your fluff is just AHHHH i really wait everyday for u to post so i got a request fans edit Chris and reader to no.1 party anthem sing by artic monkey mybe its edit of chris talking about her or anything ANDILOVEYOUU

omg you're so nice, i love you!!!! i hope you like it <3

Yapping ➵ Chris Sturniolo

The low hum of the city filtered through the cracked window, mingling with the faint sound of cars drifting up from the street below. You leaned back against the couch, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok as Chris's voice carried from the kitchen. He was rummaging through cupboards, probably looking for the last pack of his favorite snack, his faint mutterings punctuating the quiet.

It was the kind of lazy day where time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Your thumb swiped up the screen, passing by dance trends, funny memes, and cooking hacks, until something familiar caught your eye.

A video with the hashtag #SturnioloTriplets popped up on your For You page. It was one of those fan-made edits that you occasionally found yourself watching—clips of Chris, Nick, and Matt in their usual chaotic, fun-loving glory. You tapped on it, expecting a montage of their latest shenanigans.

But what you saw made your heart skip a beat.

The video opened with Chris sitting in front of the camera, a familiar setting that looked like the triplets' car. His usual animated self was present—his hands gesturing wildly, his face full of that vibrant energy he was known for. It was one of his “yapping” sessions, where he rambled on about anything that popped into his head. But today, instead of talking about a meme or some funny moment with his brothers, he was talking about you.

"Man, I don’t even know how to explain it," Chris was saying, his voice soft but filled with affection. "She just… she’s everything. Every day, she makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive. I mean, I never believed in fate or anything like that, but the second we met? It was like… I don’t know. It just clicked." He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression shifting to something far more sincere than his usual joking demeanor. "She makes me want to be better, you know? I’m just—I'm so in love with her."

Your heart melted at the sound of his voice, the raw sincerity in his words taking you by surprise. You had heard him say it before, but this… this felt different. As the clip played on, his face softened even more as he continued, "I don’t think she realizes how much she means to me. I could talk about her all day, but she’d probably just roll her eyes at me."

The screen flickered, and then, instead of just his words, the video transitioned into an edit. It was a soft montage of moments—your moments together. A collection of clips pulled from the triplets’ vlogs, his social media posts, and those little private, candid shots that had somehow made it into the public eye. There was a shot of you laughing together in the kitchen, your head thrown back, eyes sparkling as Chris pulled a goofy face. Another was of the two of you walking hand-in-hand, your fingers intertwined in a way that made everything around you feel quiet and still, just the two of you in your own world. There was a shot of you sitting next to him during one of their live streams, both of you leaning in close as he whispered something funny in your ear, making you laugh so hard you almost snorted.

The song lyrics echoed in the background, making the edit even more heartfelt.

It was a perfect blend of those little moments that spoke volumes—subtle, intimate, and filled with love. The video cut back to Chris, a soft smile on his face as he looked into the camera. "I don't think she knows it, but she’s my everything. And I’ll never stop saying that."

The look of love, the rush of blood

The "She's with me"'s, the Gallic shrug

The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus

The black & white and the color dodge

The good time girls, the cubicles

The house of fun, the number one

Party anthem

The video ended with his smiling face and a caption: “Chris Sturniolo, everyone’s favorite yapping sweetheart.” You sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, your heart doing flips in your chest. You had always known how much Chris loved you, but seeing it in this way? It made your chest tighten, a flood of affection and warmth rushing over you.

You looked up just in time to see Chris saunter back into the room, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asked, collapsing next to you on the couch, his arm slipping behind your shoulders. The scent of him—faint cologne and warmth—enveloped you.

“Just this,” you said, turning your phone towards him, the last frame of the edit paused on his face, mid-laugh.

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and then that familiar, teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oh, so you found it, huh? Yeah, I might’ve gone a little overboard that day.”

“No,” you whispered, leaning into him, feeling the beat of your pulse against his. “It was perfect.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was no screen, no city noise, no world outside the two of you. Just the number one party anthem playing between heartbeats.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove

[lalunanymph]

your stepbrother just can't resist you anymore — itoshi. r

flirty!reader, pining rin, heavy stepcest sorz, conflicted emotions, forced orgasms, almost getting caught by parents trope, humiliation, dirty talk, pro-player!rin, rin is 22/ reader is 21, i wrote this completely blasted and came twice to it i fear

Rin never thought he would take this too far. 

He was known to be meticulous, and calculative—a man made out of stone. On the field, off of it.

Fans chanted his name, and newspapers exalted him as the latest football legend. But, it did not change the grinding tension he felt whenever his reflection shone back his dark eyebags and pinched frown—a symptom of overworking himself too much.

Through it all, however, Rin always prided himself on being a smart man. 

That is, until he met you. 

His new stepsister.

You fit every stereotype of a stepsister Rin had heard of from his horndog colleagues. 

Pretty, with a too wide smile. Eager and ready to be his friend. 

He hated to admit how those cheap, sleazy pornos Shidou would mass share in their group chat had a grain of truth in them. 

If they didn’t, he wouldn’t spend his entire time avoiding you, hoping you never noticed how the hairs at the back of his neck stood whenever you passed by smelling of vanilla and sin. He would try to at least give you a hug, not tense everytime you so much as brushed your arm against his. 

The idea of self-hatred was not a foreign concept to Rin.

He had spent countless hours comparing himself to Sae, wondering if he would ever reach the pinnacle of such greatness.

His destroyed ego had been remade too many times to count. And he was starting to suspect you would be his final undoing. 

“Rin-nii.” 

Your soft voice jolted him from his thoughts. He turned the TV down, trying not to let his stare linger on how the shadows from the dimmed blue light threw the curve of your collarbones into sharp focus. 

Both your parents were out of town for the weekend, and you had the house all to yourself. 

Rin lived on his own in a penthouse somewhere in downtown Tokyo, and he rarely came home unless his father called him to have dinner together with his new stepmother and stepsister. 

There was no reason why he should even be here on a Friday night in the first place. 

Plus, with Sae still in Spain, he had no one to turn to as a buffer, and the onus of suffering fell on him to return your unsure smile with a half-hearted nod.

“Do you want to have dinner?” you fiddled with your fingers, and he hoped to whatever deity above tasked with listening to his pathetic ass that you hadn’t noticed the heat dusting his cheeks. 

“Sure,” his voice came out steady, almost bored. Just the way he always sounded. 

Rin’s practised poker face was handy when he had to sit opposite of you, pretending to be absorbed in his plate of udon while you struck up sparse conversation here and there. You talked about work, your colleagues. Sometimes, you brought up your mom and how happy she was on holiday with his dad. 

His father had told him how you were raised by a single mother for your entire life and never really had a family to rely on. This would be the first time you had male figures in your life—and you never failed to express your gratitude at how easily they took you in.

“Ah, ka-san sent me some photos of the seashore,” you mumbled wistfully, picking your phone from the table and scrolling through your gallery with a fond smile on your face. “Isn’t it beautiful?” you shared the screen with him and he reached out to steady your hand, accidentally grazing your fingers. 

He pulled back slightly, mumbling an apology. 

“It’s fine,” you beamed, stowing your phone back into your pocket. “How’s practice?” 

This was the reason Rin absolutely hated you. 

How you could feel his touches but never responded to them.

Was he the only one cursed to feel his heart doubling in size whenever you so much as looked at him? 

Rin wished he could pull back your tall curtains to uncover the orbit of your thoughts—if they were even a millimetre close to colliding with the idea of him. The nuclear reaction was enough to get his mind reeling, and the tightness of his breath and the front of his shorts was enough to snap him back to reality.

“Fine,” he muttered curtly, standing up abruptly, the back of his chair hitting the wall.

You physically recoiled back, and for a second, there was a shadow that passed your pretty eyes, one which you quickly put out when he turned his searing gaze to you.

“Okay, Rin-nii,” you whispered, and your resignation crushed his soul. 

Nice going, Itoshi. 

You slipped on a smile, taking his plate to the sink before he could protest. He couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking, chest crumpled almost to your ribcage with the cold sting of rejection.

“You…” 

His soft voice rose above the clanging of your thoughts, and you stopped scrubbing. Turning to him, your raised brows spoke of honest intentions to hear him out. Unfortunately, Rin was unsure of what else to say, and you waited for your older brother to break the awkward ice. 

The parting between his two lips which revealed his white teeth, zig-zagged through your pulsing thoughts, goading you to crash into him. 

Your shoulders fell from your ears, and you stopped in mid-motion. Cold water ran down your wrists like tears from a crack in heaven, calling you back into the light. But, you ignored the righteous siren.

Those teal eyes, framed with thick lashes and desperation slowly inched up your bare thighs, right to the crease where your cotton shorts was caught in between an affair with your plush thigh and the enticing slope of your—

Rin flinched and spun on his heel, darting up the stairs as quickly as his toned legs could bring him. 

You watched after him, frozen in one spot, fighting the current of disbelief and disappointment threatening to tear you apart. 

The fleeting glimpse of warmth that ignited within the chambers of your lower belly was extinguished by the cold harsh truth: your step brother absolutely hated you. 

Swallowing hard, you turned back to your hands that were starting to prune from the water.

You switched off the tap, drawing your hands out of the sink basin and letting them fall to your side, breath coming out in stuttered puffs. Not caring how a tiny puddle was forming under both your arms. 

Rin snapped back awake to the sound of thunder crashing above his ceiling.

Like the heavens were rioting against the sins plaguing his thoughts, he twisted to this side, trying hard to squeeze his eyes close and allow his mind to drift off. 

Another clap of thunder, and Rin swore he felt a cold draft brush his arm.

The bed dipped behind him, and he jumped, a strangled yelp escaping his throat, ready to fight off whoever dared to interrupt his sleep.

When the whites of your eyes shone in the half-darkness of his room, Rin calmed down enough to exhale noisily, fisting the sheets to still his rapidly beating heart.

“What are you…?” 

Rin trailed off, anger dying in the back of his throat when the shape of you adjusted in the dark. He first noticed the dip of your shoulders, bare under black spaghetti straps. Following the curve of your collarbone which led right into the trap of your cleavage, he couldn’t help caress your soft skin with his heated glance. 

“You can touch them.” 

He blinked, and the whites of your eyes suddenly became more vivid even as the night darkened. The shape of your mouth was coming into focus, his retinas gathering enough light in the pitch black room to illuminate the soft flesh-tone pillows he wanted to bite down on in his frustration. 

The owlish blinks and stuck silence was cut off when you reached for his hands, pulling them into your lap. Rin felt the heat of your thighs seep into his skin, and a low gasp spilled past his defences. 

Lucky Rin, the man who could score even in an unfair match, couldn’t believe if he was dreaming or not when you guided him to slide his palms up your thighs, your touch loose around his wrists. Your night dress hinged off your hips, and he briefly casted his glance to the darkened triangle in between your thighs. It fell back in place, hiding your most vulnerable part like a hasty curtain catching him right in the act.

But, when his larger palms encased your breasts, both of them curving nicely into the concave of his trembling grasp, your nightie’s betrayal was quickly forgotten. 

“Fuck,” Rin whispered despite himself. You were softer than he imagined. “Is this real?” 

It took him a second to realise he had asked that question out loud like a fucking loser. 

Your chest vibrated noiselessly with the buried sound of a laugh. “I can’t believe it either.” 

He flexed his wrists, wishing he could close his fists around such delicate flesh. His grip waned, and he felt like he should drop his hands before this got too weird, when you stopped him with a soft sigh. 

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

The shadow of disappointment in your tone, the way your syllables fell flat against your tongue like a limpid towel made a shiver of contempt flash hotly in his chest.  

Taking control over the voices screaming in his head, Rin firmly squeezed your tits, hearing your gasp of surprise and ecstasy rebound across the room. 

“Such a fucking eager slut.” 

Those words slid past the curlicues of his tongue with an ease of deadly poison, each word slowly bringing you up short.

“What—”

“Shut up,” Rin glowered, feeling the stiffness of your excitement between his fingertips as he twisted and tugged on your nipples through the sheer silk. “You seriously interrupted my sleep for this?” 

He yanked you closer to him, your body sprawling open like a chest of precious scrolls above his own. Your hair fell into your face, and your scalp’s sensitive skin cried out when he tugged it back with one hand, forcing you to reveal the truth. 

“Only little sluts try to seduce their nii-sans.” 

The harsh collision of his hot breath and the stinging slap of his palm on your ass made you come up short. Your cry was smothered by his tongue pillaging past the barriers of your mouth, forcing it wide open for him to devour the softness of your sudden shock. 

You barely kissed him back when Rin rolled you onto your front, pushing your face into his pillows. Something hard and insistent was pressing down on your thigh, and you shivered when you felt him reach in between your bodies to yank his shorts down. 

“Begging like a bitch in heat—I’ll show you what desperation truly looks like.” 

“Rin—hah!” 

Another hot slap landed on your skin, this time in between your upper thighs. It seared through your flimsy bleats and protests, crawling up your throat as strangled cries when you felt him shove his hands through the gap of your legs, cupping the heart of your desire right in his palm. 

Two thick fingers parted the wet seam of your folds, finding the flushed pearl which had the power to make you agree to any transgression. Those digits twisted it slightly in between their callous grab, flicking, rubbing and tapping on the fleshy dome with feral insistence. 

You cried out, and a large hand slammed over your open mouth. 

“Shut up,” he whispered, fervently, like he suddenly remembered that the walls have ears. “Our parents, they’re…”

Rin trailed off when the stony silence from his parents room down the hall finally hit him. Like someone had thrown cold water over his unbearably hot impatience, it dissolved into greasy pits of lust which opened up right to the darkness winking at him.

Begging him to choose her. 

“... not here.” 

“Yes,” you whispered, and Rin didn’t know if your shunting hips brushing his aching cock was intentional or not. “T-They’re on holiday, remember? We’re all alone.”

The way you said those last three words—the breathy rejoice of this simple truth—made Rin lean his entire weight into you, the warmth of his breath brushing the shell of your ear feeling like the world’s most beautiful electric shock. 

“Good. We don’t have to be quiet when I fuck you.” 

You were tossed onto your back with barely any grace, and Rin raked his hot stare down the planes of your body at the same time his veiny, outspread hands made their way down towards your hips. He pulled back the flimsy red hem which had so cruelly denied him the pleasurable view of your pussy, baring your glossy folds to him.

“Wet already, little sister? I would’ve never expected this from you.” 

He drove his thick fingers back to the sacred promise of your heat, using your own desire as a lube to take him right down to the knuckles. Your sharp squeal filled him with a masculine pride no goal ever could.

The feel of your warm walls, sucking him in and lovingly keeping him there like nobody had ever done in his whole life, made Rin feel like he could win 20 World Cups in a row. His nostrils flared and he curled his fingers in a seductive motion he once saw a pornstar do. Your arched back and tiny squeal almost made him smile.

“How long have you waited for this?” he whispered, loud enough in the quiet of your heaving breaths. “How long have you waited for me to fuck you?” 

“As long as you’ve waited,” your returning whisper, pushed through the scarlet haze his fingers were eliciting in your body, caught him off guard. 

“As I’ve waited?” 

You nodded sluggishly, half-lidded gaze heavy with emotion when you whispered:

“Since the first day I saw you.” 

Him, in a weathered jersey, coming back from practice while both your parents stood side by side, a cinder block about to explode his entire world while you were seated behind them—hidden from his sights. You were only twenty when you first met Itoshi Rin, but you knew you would love him for the rest of your life. 

“A year ago,” the ghost of his laugh in the crook of your neck made the patch of skin it caressed explode into tiny sparks. “I hated you the first time I saw you.”

As he spoke, he started to increase the speed of his fingers, using his thumb to put constant pressure on your aching clit. Sometimes, he would rub a few circles into it, drawing out your torment and causing your legs to jerk.

“R-Rin—”

“You reminded me of everything wrong about my parent’s marriage. You were my father’s failure right in front of me. I wanted to hate you so much.” His voice quavered, and his fingers stilled inside you. He pitched forward into your neck, covering his powerless side with a muffled sigh right into your throat.  

“But, I could never hate you.” 

Despite how wrong everything was, his words were right. Rin never hated you or your silly laugh or your insistence in making sure he was comfortable around you. Maybe he never hated you at all, just the upheaval in his life that followed along with you. 

He couldn’t blame you for that. It wasn’t your fault that your mother’s love had severe consequences on his upbringing. 

“Never?” you brought him back to the ground with your quaking question. 

“Hmm,” Rin hummed, in a half-answer to your longing. “We’ll see about that.” 

Those fingers were back to bring you towards the edge, ready to have you spilling out your deepest release and desires for him to taste on his tongue.

Rin curved one arm around you, holding you to his chest while his leg instinctively hooked around your thigh, drawing it right to his side and keeping you open to his plunging fingers. 

The hand protectively curved around your shoulders was the same one which pushed your neckline down, revealing your sumptuous breasts topped with heavy, hard nipples right into the chilly room air. 

He eyed how those nubs stiffened and perked under his watchful gaze. Rin couldn’t resist the temptation to pinch them around with his thumb and forefinger, relishing at how such a simple action could render you breathless and arching your back. 

Your hips swayed like a wave threatening to break over his entire wrist, while he skillfully rocked your world with timely strokes and tugs. 

The wet sounds coming from between your legs and spilling from your mouth painted an entire map of your release—the hitch in your breath, the gasping quiver of his name, your pitchy squeal which broke off into a pathetic whine. 

Rin let your body find her release from its shameful tether, those watchful, beautiful eyes never taking off from your undulating hips and flushed chest. 

While you were easing down from your high, he prised your legs apart, resting in between them and thumbing the raw, angry red head of his neglected cock. Your small fists crumpled around his white sleep shirt, the tilt in your waiting hips and the hungry look in your eyes undoing his patience. 

He fisted the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes. Rin was no amateur, but he wasn’t exactly as experienced as the other players. A truth he would take with him to his grave—his ego always needed to know that he was the best.

In your arms, you proved to him that he was worthy of your visceral reactions. 

You gasped out his name when you felt the tip breaching past your rippling walls. It was an exquisite stretch your toys or fingers could never give you.

Rin set a pace which had your tits jiggling freely with every heavy slam of his hips into yours. He hadn’t bothered to fully remove your nightie; something about how the hem was haphazardly draped across your thighs with the full reveal being where his cock was currently churning your insides, and the lewd way your breasts were revealed to his starving eyes from your hastily pulled down neckline, added a layer of wickedness to this already sinful affair. 

He devoured your flushed cheeks with a debauched sneer.

You turned your face away into the fluffy pillows to muffle your groans, but he pried it back to his impatient gaze. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he kept you pinned to one spot, held in place like how a prey would be frozen in fear from a starving predator’s gaze. 

“I’m fucking you so well, huh, Y/N?” his gritted scoff warmed your blood, making it sing in your ears. “You’re taking me like a champ.” 

“Stop,” you whispered harshly, tightening your hold on his loose shirt. “You’re being m-mean—” 

Your protests died as a choked moan when he wrenched your thighs off the bed and hitched them over his broad shoulders. Rin wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting them off slightly from the soft mattress with his sheer strength.

This position deepened his strokes, and coupled with your shaky circles on your clit, it had you right at the edge. 

“Rin… Rin-nii…”

The featherlight whisper of that honorific slammed into him like a tidal wave. 

Rin picked up the pace, the slick sounds coming from your pussy intoxicating him with everything about your presence; your airy moans, the glossy tears in your eyes, how you scrunched his shirt in your hold as if he would float away if you let go. 

You clawed at his chest, scrambling to grip his dark green locks and the back of his neck to draw him closer. Your legs were fully in the air, the deep rut of each sweet plunge in and out of your eager, twitching hole a shameful sign of your surrender to Rin. 

“Say it again,” he growled, the snarl on his face both terrifying and arousing. “Call me that again, little sister.” 

You wasted no time in succumbing to the darker instincts tainting the air tonight.

“Rin-nii… nii-san… please fuck me good…”

He grasped the doughy softness of your hips, sinking his nails into the welcoming flesh to take more and more until you were crying for him to stop. Rin was selfish with many things, and you were not the exception. He wanted to own your every sniffle, sob and moan. Every exhale of pleasure you released was consumed to feed his ego. 

You belonged to him and only him. 

That thought alone could’ve brought him to his knees, and it nearly made him lose control over his own body. 

The teasing darkness, beckoning him into her disastrous embrace, called out his name in a slurry, seductive moan which sounded awfully like your own voice.

“Rin-nii! I-I’m close!” your choked whimper made the red fog in his mind thicken. There was a finger hovering right over his trigger button, held back by his rapidly corrupted morals.

He couldn’t cum in you, you weren’t on any protection, he would get you knocked up, your parents would kick him out, he would be a disgrace—

“Rin-nii, inside,” you hiccuped, slipping your hand right onto your mound; using your index and middle finger to pry your nether lips further apart so he could see the glistening chokehold of your folds clinging around his cock. “I want you to cum inside.”

Those words barely left your spit-soaked lips when a well of warmth filled you right up to the brim. Rin’s guttural groan was primal, muffled into your shoulder. 

You welcomed his weight on top of you; pushing his cock deeper and pressing on a spot which had you seeing stars and releasing all over his twitching length. 

“Rin…” your soft gasp reverberated through his ringing ears. He shivered when you scratched his scalp, the pleasurable itch running down his spine. 

There was nothing else uttered between you two. Sleep came like a feathered down blanket over your consciousness, dragging you into the dark from the sound of his jagged breathing. 

Your stepbrother was right in between your thighs, eating you out for breakfast. 

Rin and you had woken up in a mess of limbs and dried cum, and rather than forcing normalcy after a night where the biggest boundary was crossed, you both continued to fall deeper into each other’s trap. 

“Rin-nii…” 

He had only fucked you twice, and yet, Rin was already feeling a possessive need to keep filling you up if only to hear you airily breathing out his name. 

His tongue slid through your folds, sampling your flavour with the patience of a man starving for his next meal. 

Your back was pressed to the expensive marble counter, and your fingers were yanking on his locks. 

“Mhm!” your teary hitched breath made him throb right in his sleep pants. 

Rin played with your clit, using his tongue to flick the flushed pearl and sucking around the greasy bud until your legs shook around his ears. 

Your nails sank into the underside of the counter, and he didn’t have to glance up to know that your face was crumpled in pure ecstasy. He could sense it in your hips—how they swayed like poetry in motion, spelling out his name and claim on you.

He flattened his tongue to let you slide your soaked folds over it as you struggled to find sweet friction; risking a peek up at you through his lashes. Your head was thrown back, the morning sun haloing your hair. Rin had seen a few women in the pinnacle of their own pleasure, but never one as breathtaking as you. 

Your moans were strained around your need to remain quiet, even as both your parents were still on holiday. He noticed your hand moving to cover your mouth in his periphery, muffling your moans behind a wall of flesh. 

Rin grunted; he couldn’t let you get away with this.

He retracted the pink muscle of his tongue back into his mouth, kissing your clit as a sweet consolation to his change of mind.

“Let me hear you,” he ordered, observing how you pried your teary gaze from the ceiling to the man right in between your legs. 

“Rin-nii,” your broken whisper stirred none of his sympathies. 

“Our parents aren’t home, so let me hear you,” he kneaded your hip with one hand, swollen lips pulled into an uncharacteristic smirk. “Unless… you don’t want to cum as badly as I thought you wanted to?” 

Your breathing hiked, and you tightened your hold on his hair. 

“N-no… m’wanna cum around your tongue…”

He sucked your clit into his mouth, using his lips to massage and roll the tiny bud. Sadistically enjoying how you flinched and tossed your head back to cry out his name. 

“Then let the neighbors know who’s eating you out s’good,” he growled into your flushed folds. “Let them know who this pussy creams for.” 

His words hit you like a freight train.

Running you down the tracks straight into madness, you let Rin order you around, control your reactions with his straitlaced dominance and encouragement to let go for him. 

You gasped, preened, cried out and moaned his name, calling him Rin, Rin-nii, Rin-Rin… 

His name sounded gorgeous wrapped in lust—your lust.

The sound of a car on the driveway knocked you back to the ground in shock, and from your stance in the kitchen, you could look out the window onto the front porch. Your parents were stepping out of the car, a few hours early from their scheduled arrival, lugging suitcases and joking around.

They couldn’t see you from the kitchen window’s heavy tint, but they were just a few feet away. 

“Rin,” you tugged on his hair harshly, begging him to ease up. There was a puddle of spit and juices gathering on the floor, right above where his mouth was still insistently connected to your clit. “Rin, t-they’re here—”

Those large palms caged your hips to the corner of the island, holding you down so you couldn’t squirm away.

“R-Rin!” 

“Cum first,” he muttered roughly, licking up and down your seam to tease you from clit to hole. “Cum on my tongue first and then I’ll let you go.” 

“No!” you whisper-shrieked, thrashing about, trying to push him off you. He stubbornly held on, pinning you to the edge of the counter with one arm, easily pushing his free hand through your thighs and plunging two thick fingers into your well-teased pussy. 

You gasped out loud, back arching.

Footsteps echoed down the gravel walkway, getting closer.

“Rin—”

Your toes curled, and the room started to spin. It felt like your entire skin was covered with flames licking every inch of your body—the biggest ember burning right where Rin was insistently eating you out. 

Despite every nerve that was drenched in horror, the coil in your belly never stopped tightening, thrilled by the possibility of being discovered.

“Rin,” you were sobbing at this point, whether in fear or ecstasy, you had no idea. Your body was in a raging battle, your self-control razed to ashes.

“... wonder how Y/N and Rin are…”

Your parents were just right behind the door, their voices breaching through your foggy mind.

They were a few feet away from opening the huge mahogany slab and finding your older brother on his knees, pleasuring you. 

Dad would freak out first. After all, he had explicitly told Rin to be nice to you—but he hadn’t anticipated how well the younger Itoshi would treat you.

Your mother would cry. She would curse you out for ruining the first family you ever had. 

And Sae, your other brother… 

The thought of your older nii-san and the disdain shining in those detached teal eyes (so similar to Rin’s yet so different) if he was the one to stumble upon the both of you, was the final push your body needed.

Flames licked your entire body, the world falling off its hinges. You crumpled to the floor, in time for Rin to catch you, his fingers furiously pumping in and out of your drooling cunt, squeezing you dry from the pleasure. 

He was frantically lapping at your clit, drinking up your juices, more of them splattered onto the floor. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, kissing and tonguing your folds as you shuddered and creamed around him. “Fuck, so good, so good—”

The lock clicked, and the front door creaked open.

The elder Itoshi found nothing amiss in his house when he stepped in, his new wife trailing behind with their luggage and souvenir bags. 

His teal gaze swept over the spacious kitchen, and the only sounds in the house came from the living room where light was spilling past the archway. Someone was watching TV. 

“Is Rin here?” his new wife asked, always excited to see one of his boys. He hummed, tossing his keys onto the console table and shrugging out from his jacket. 

“Beats me. He comes and goes when he pleases—”

“Tou-san?” 

Sanjiro paused, recognizing his son’s voice calling from down the hall. 

“Rin-Rin?” 

Both parents ambled towards the light source, rounding the corner to find Rin scrolling listlessly through the channels, still clad in his sleep shirt and pants with a cushion fitted snugly in his arms, nestled right on his lap.

He peeled his disinterested eyes from the screen to assess them. “How was your holiday?” 

Your mother spoke first. “It was great! The weather was so good. How has Y/N been? She mentioned you stopped over for dinner yesterday.” 

Rin’s expression barely changed, only a flicker of recollection behind those impassive eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I did. I stayed over in my old room—it was too late to drive. I hope neither of you minded,” he added as an afterthought.

His stepmother, always there to reassure that he was always welcomed in their new house, stepped into her hostess role. “Of course not! This house is as much yours as ours.” 

Never mind that this luxurious double-storey once belonged to his biological mother and father. 

Recognizing that his new wife might have overstepped with this careless slip, Sanjiro cleared his throat gruffly. “So, did you at least try to be nice to Y/N?”

Before Rin could reply, he was cut off by a chipper: “Yes, he was!”  

You drew all three of their attention, bouncing down the stairs with an effervescent grin plastered on your face. You were ready for the day, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hair damp from a shower.

“Rin-nii and I watched some horror movies last night and he made fun of me the whole time, did you not, nii-san?” 

There was a crack in his son’s composure—a look of annoyance that made Sanjiro want to chastise him when Rin spoke up, surprising the older man who could faintly make out a teasing lilt in his boy’s tone.

Which was completely unusual to hear coming from his sullen, withdrawn son. 

“Hard not to when you can’t even handle a jumpscare… little sis.”

said i would never write stepcest yet here i am oopsie anyway every reblog and (nice) feedback helps us manifest our own rin-nii bless

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[yok00k]

truth or dare

pairing: hellokittylover/coquette!oc x boxer!jk

genre: angst, fluff

‧₊˚🎧⊹♡— are you playing? truth or dare

synopsis: rumor has it that jungkook is entertaining other girl(s)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angsty, oc got: attachment issues, daddy issues [like the author], etc. oc is also kinda dumb (and broken) but she’s figuring shit out, lowkey she’s that bitch, jealous!oc, side characters were kinda introduced, mention of jk making out w/ another girl, jk’s character is complex: one sec he’s a playboy and another sec he’s down bad for oc?, open ending, unedited

a/n: this took place when jk and oc were in 2 month situationship and still getting to know one another! so their boundary wasn’t clear..

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Everything seems to be a dream as soon as you wake up on another glorious day.

you’ve never felt so energized like this before. it’s a little strange to say but, you even feel like you’ve been reborn for some unknown reason. maybe today is going to be a good day for you.

well let’s see.. you’re off from work plus you basically got nothing to do other than clean your room a little for a little bit and to just chill around!

one of the first things you do as soon as you wake up is stare at your phone, particularly to see if jungkook has sent you a message yet as he always never fails to not. a simple yet sweet “good morning pretty :)” and “did my baby girl sleep well?” can add a bright color to your day. it shows that he cares and that he’s thinking about you too.

the anticipated message from your comfort person unexpectedly did not pop out in your notification. it kind of threw you off. jungkook never misses sending you at least one message, precisely at 8:30 every morning. even in the mornings where he had a boxing match the night before. today is indeed such a strange day.

you’re in no position to be sad just because he didn’t message you. in fact, you’re not, you’re just surprised, or so you think. at the same time, you shouldn’t be in shock owing to the fact that there’s no label between you and jungkook. indeed there’s something going on with you and him, whatever that would be except for being girlfriend and boyfriend.

you often ask yourself where you two stand. for you, it’s indistinct to identify what you are to him. all you know is that he is someone special to you. jungkook makes you feel like you’re the prettiest girl in the whole universe every time he’s around you. it’s the way he articulates his words when speaking to you. you can’t explain it.

you’re more than aware that you’re growing emotional attachment to him. getting used to his affection and now that you didn’t receive a message from him to start off your day, it dismays you. although you’re not sure if there's a hidden motive beyond those gut feeling, you choose to ignore it and start typing on your keyboard.

good morning my ggukie!!

r u free today?? kinda wanna hang out with you >o<

delivered | 9:01 am

since you didn’t establish any kind of plan that you’ll be doing today, you’re thinking of inviting him over. you have lots of things to show him, things you purchased when you went shopping with your best friend who also happens to lives next door, Yun-jin

speaking of her before you even forget, you have to call and ask her how her night went from clubbing last night. she initially invited and forced you to go. but your thousands of homeworks and seventy other things on your checklist didn’t permit you to go. partying is always fun, especially with her, but you have to stay focused on your priorities.

you find her inbox off your message app, the first thing you saw was her latest message from this morning

im aliveeeeeeebwwkwwjhskw

sent at 3:33 am

it made you chuckle lightly. she’s completely wasted. there’s no point of calling her as she’s probably still down. so, you decided to pull up to her apartment, bring a few painkillers with you. you’ll bet seven grand that her hangover is going to be so bad.

opening the door using the key she gave you, you spot her laying on the cream and fluffy rug in her cozy white themed living room. you quickly make your way towards her.

“yunny wake up” you said, gently rubbing her back. “i brought you some painkillers, take them quickly” handling her a couple of pain relievers.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

you’re currently searching for breakfast in her mini fridge, something yun-jin can eat so she’ll feel better. your poor friend is a complete mess as she lazily walks toward the counter in front of you.

“last night was so fun, you should’ve come,” she murmurs, hopping on the bar stool as she watches you cook her breakfast. “Jaeyun won’t stop asking me about you.”

oh you almost forget about him. Jaeyun is Yun-jin’s childhood friend who has a huge interest in you. well that’s what Yun-jin has told you, but you swore to her that you won’t tell him that you know. back in your senior year of high school, you mostly have the same classes as him. oftentimes you two hang out and study together in a local cafe. you enjoy his company a lot, but only as friends. just when you and Jungkook started talking, your friendship with Jaeyun unintentionally grew apart. you lowkey miss hanging out with him. anyways, you take a mental note to check up on him later.

yun-jin tells you more about what you’ve missed. most of them are about the hot guys that she encountered in the night club. that’s not new to you because she’s always out there looking out for hotties.

“oh i forgot to tell you, you remember Blythe? she’s wildin’ last night too” of course, how could you forget about the girl who spreads malicious rumors about you? you genuinely don’t know what’s up with her as she constantly talks shit about you though you never know her personally. to you, she’s just a friend of a friend and some type of hater. indeed, it’s a one- sided beef. she is also known for making out with multiple guys and god knows what at every party she’s in.

“my god, who was her target last night??” you interestedly asked. you and yun-jin have a silly habit of keeping track of her targets. you two soon discover that she goes for the basketball players and athletic guys in general.

“I don't think we’ve seen the guy in a club before but I’ve heard he does underground boxing.” she said as her eyes glanced to her left, trying to recollect her memory. Jungkook might be familiar with the mysterious man. he could be either in his circle or one of his opponents.

you just hum, you expected she’ll go for another basketball player. you guess she’s trying something new.

“but girl, let me tell you. the boxer guy looked so drunk and she was dry humping on him like a damn get a fucking room bro” she adds more details on the tea, while pretending to cry as she covers her eyes.

“wait was the guy totally intoxicated ?” you ask as cracking the eggs on the hot pan.

“No, he was still responding back to her, running his hands around her body and stuff.” you’re glad you didn’t see that yourself, or else you’ll cringe. your friend giving you a summary of how the night went is enough. still, it’s entertaining. for a while.

“let me see if she posted something on her IG” yun-jin utters, pulling out her phone from her pocket.

she taps on her screen multiple times, and finally she finds a story that the girl posted. “look, she posted this”

and with that, yun-jin faces the phone your way. you take a glance on her screen, showing you a low exposure photo of the girl sitting on the uknown guy’s lap. her face is showing while his face wasn't captured. the blurry image seems normal. until your eyes examine the familiar tatted arm that’s wrapped around the girl’s torso. you swear you’ve seen those tattoos before. it takes you a while to recognize the ink into the deep layer of their skin.

then it hits you— those not-so-foreign tattoos belong to jungkook, your jungkook.

oh. your heart suddenly drops.

your eyes lock with the phone screen surface longer than the usual, by which makes your friend frown.

“hey, what’s wrong?” Yun-jin concernedly ask

maybe that’s why he hasn’t texted you yet. maybe he slept wit—

“y/n? you ok?” your friend calls for you again, interrupting your thoughts, though they didn’t fully vanish.

shifting your eyes to her, you blink rapidly “yeah, i’m completely ok,” swallowing your lies away. you can feel your eyes watering, and you don't want your friend to see you break down.

after cooking her breakfast, you decided to head back. “I forgot that I have something to do, I’ll go now” you rapidly put your shoes on

‘she’s not eating this breakfast with me?’ Yun-jin thinks as she watches you leave her apartment.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

As soon as you get back to your apartment, you walk towards your bedroom. immediately, you throw yourself on the bed.

“I’m so stupid” you groan as you kick the baby pink multi layer bedsheets on your bed.

and once again, you can’t explain this bothersome feeling. anger? feeling betrayed? jealousy? sadness? all of the above?

you can’t understand. no, you’re trying to understand in the midst of confusion.

you really like him, you really do. and he says he likes you too. he even confessed his feelings to you first! since then, it was safe to assume that you two will establish a label soon. you were so sure of it, until now.

how.. how come he’s with another woman?

the more you think about, the more you feel the sting in your heart. the unpleasant emotion is spreading inside your system, it’s urging you to throw up. you find yourself removing dead skin out of your cuticle using your thumbnail, a habit which you only do to relieve anxiety.

you have so many questions that need to be answered. were the feelings he felt about you real? or was he just playing you? or did he just forget that you exist in his life last night? or did he just lose interest in you? these questions bring out your inner conflicts. so many questions you’re afraid to know the real answers of.

just before the skin next to your cuticle bleeds, your focus shifts to the triple loud ping coming from your phone. Of course, those messages belong to the one person who you least likely want to face right now.

morning pretty

sorry just woke up, having a severe hangover rn

still down to hang out? I can pull up a little later

sent at 11:59 am

his text confirms your suspicion, proving that he was drinking heavily last night. you can’t stand seeing him today. you will just cancel your initial plan and make up some lame excuse.

nvm, we can just hang out another time.

no, erase that. you’ll avoid him from now on, there won’t be another time!

nvm, I feel sick. please don’t come over.

seen at 12:00 pm

my poor baby, i’ll take care of u

sent | 12:01 pm

no need, thanks tho

delivered | 12:01 pm

not being in the mood to keep talking to him, you send the last message before putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode. leaving jungkook’s messages unseen

considering that your day has been ruined, you choose to shut down the world and take a long nap.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

on the other hand, jungkook definitely notices how cold you turned out to be. maybe it's the time of the month for you. thus, today his mission is to grab things you typically crave for: brown sugar milk tea, some sweet pastries from your favorite bakery shop, and finally, the icing to add on top, a bouquet of white roses.

jungkook usually pampers you with a bunch of food and affection. that’s why he pays attention and takes mental notes (or even notes on his phone) of tiny details about you. it satisfies him to see you all spoiled.

that’s the reason why he jumps out of his messy bed and initiates to get ready. starting off his usual morning routine by taking a cold shower. not much time after, he applies his skincare.

Jungkook hears loud chatters of two men talking from his living room as he walks out of his bedroom. he opens the door and perceives his hyungs chilling by his couch.

“yah jungkook, that chick you brought from last night was way out of control” Jimin complains as soon as jungkook enters the living room.

“yeah kook, kicking her out at 3 in the morning wasn’t a good idea. she’s loud as hell and I had to deal with one of your neighbors' complaints again” Taehyung, who was their designated driver, added annoyingly.

“whose chick?” jungkook confusedly asks.

“yours” both of his hyungs exclaim in unison, which the youngest responds with a shrug.

to be honest, Jungkook doesn’t remember shit from last night. he can recollect some memories, but not a whole bunch. drinks. yes, he drank a lot. there was this girl he randomly made out with, however he can’t remember her name or what she looks like. not that she’s relevant to him anyways.

jungkook chooses to not care about the insignificance, he could spend his time better than that. and by the word better, he spends time thinking about you.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

the constant sound from your doorbell that’s been ringing for who-knows-how-long wakes you up from your wonderful nap.

you gently rubbing your eyes, then you tap the screen of your cellular to see the time; 3:59 pm.

shit, how long were you out for? no idea. you look at your window and see the raindrops rolling down the glass. it was just sunny before you drifted to sleep a few hours ago.

down below to your screen, you notice jungkook messages and a few missed calls from earlier and just now.

7 missed calls from 🐰

55 mins ago

I’ll stay for the night so I can take care of you

delivered | 12:03 pm

just grabbing few things for my baby and I’ll be there soon.

delivered | 12:30 pm

it’s raining heavily and now I’m stuck in traffic

delivered | 1:01 pm

I’m here!

delivered | 1:44 pm

baby? are you home? I'm here

delivered | 1:51 pm

don’t know where u at but I’ll be here waiting at your front door :(

delivered | 1:56 pm

after reading his texts, you rush to the door. there’s no way that man will wait for those hours outside your front doo-

indeed, he’s in front of your door, waiting for you to open up to him as he’s sitting on the ground. besides him, a couple of light brown paper bags, his backpack, and a bouquet of flowers are also laying on the cold cement.

“hi my pretty!” he cheerfully greeted you, rushing to get up from the ground. jungkook walks up to you with a smile full of relief and happiness as if he wasn’t wasting his time for two hours waiting for you right there.

you attempt to avoid his gaze, your eyes examine his black long sleeve that really fits him nice and is damp.

“come in, you should change your clothes.” you mutter coldy

it’s inevitable to not be concerned that he got wet from the rain. Even if you don’t wanna let him in, it will guilt you if he gets ill.

jungkook does what he was told, gathering all the stuff he brings with him and steps into your flat. he feels the strange coldness as soon as he lands his eyes on yours. something isn’t right. something is wrong with you.

He settles his things by your couch and changes into a new oversized t-shirt in front of you. after changing, he reaches for the paper bags to show you the things he got.

“look baby, I got you your favorite drink, some pastries, i know how much you lov-”

“thank you, but you shouldn’t have. I told you to not come” your stern voice cuts him off before he finishes his sentence. you’re trying to keep your cool. your tone is full of nothing but seriousness. not a hint of sweetness in them, which makes jungkook tilt his head on the side, confused by your odd attitude.

“but baby, I just wanted to be here to take care of you.” he insists. by all means, he won’t listen to what you say.

“I hate when you do this” you sigh

“did i do something wrong? are you mad at me?” he attempts to reach you, but you’re too quick to avoid his touch. “tell me what’s wrong baby, please” Jungkook added once more. he doesn’t understand why you avoid him.

“do you treat your other girls like this too?” you ask, eyes shooting lasers at his. an anger rushes through you as the thoughts of him spoiling girls other than you.

“my pretty, what are you talking about?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, looking down closely to you. where are you getting these notions from?

“my friend saw you last night”

it took him a couple seconds to remember

“listen to me baby, whoever I was with, she meant nothing” Jungkook defends himself quickly, reaching for your hand, trying to reassure you that she’s insignificant.

it’s not working.

“I just wish you could’ve told me we weren’t exclusive.” you said wipe a tear from your upper cheek before it could roll down further.

“or maybe I was just dumb to assume we were since you initially told me you liked me, I'm sorry, I don’t really know how this whole thing works” you dryly chuckle, honestly admitting to him that you’ve never been in this type of complicated situation before. now you feel like a fool, getting mad at him for something you can’t hold against him.

jungkook shakes his head, reaching for you one more time, placing his gentle on the side of your face, caressing it. you did nothing as you stood still.

“no, i’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I do like you. I still do and that won’t change. I was just so drunk last night and could barely remember what happened. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

but somewhere deep down is telling you that he’s only sorry because he got caught.

“you’re free to do whatever you want, Jungkook. I don’t think we’re on the same page so it will be best if we don’t see each other anymore” you articulate as best as you could.

you don’t want to let him go, due to the fact that you’re growing so much feelings towards him. it’s almost as if you’re enamored. but that’s also the same reason why you must let him go. you must, or you’ll get hurt deeper.

“y/n, please don’t say that”

“No, you know how much I like you. you know how much I value you. yet in return, I feel like I’m just a plaything to you that you can play with whenever you want.”

“that’s not true baby, you know that” Jungkook protests, shaking his head. the main problem is you don't. you absolutely have no idea of his motives for pursuing you. is he doing it because he's falling for you too? or he's just playing one of those games. those dangerous games you won't involve yourself with.

he’s looking for words to proves you that his feelings were genuine, but fails to. maybe because he never knows how to show his real feelings. or maybe he was never genuine to start with.

"I'm not one of your playthings. so just— ” you pause, shifting your eyes on the ground. “go away"

Jungkook locks his gaze to you, hoping you will look back at him and take back what you said. but he can read you face and make it seem like he’s not welcome there anymore.

without any words, he leaves, leaving you accompanied with melancholy.

series m.list

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Beauty is Pain

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: gossip talk, hookup mention, Regina's got an attitude, light swearing, y/n use

|| Sumary: Regina's high heels have been hurting her all day. Reader notices and offers that they switch shoes.

Requests open!

~~~~

Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. Walking around school all day in heels was never easy. Sometimes she might sneak a break in the bathroom and take them off for a few minutes. But she hasn't had the chance to do that yet. Well, beauty is pain. Isn't that what they say?

At the sound of last period bell, Regina headed for the cafeteria. Her and the rest of the plastics (including you) had planned on skipping and going shopping. Karen, Gretchen and Y/N were already seated at their usual table. Talking about any and all things gossip related as they waited for Regina.

"Oh my God! Did you hear that a jock hooked up with an art freak?" Gretchen asks, grinning as she talks about the latest gossip.

"Ew, seriously?" Regina makes her presence known as she joins them at the table, taking a seat next to Y/N who smiles and gives the blonde's cheek a kiss.

"Yes! Oh my God! It's been like all over snapchat private stories." Gretchen nods, taking out her phone to show Regina the stories," seriously not fetch."

"Gretchen! Stop trying to make fetch happen." Regina rolled her eyes, Y/N would raise an eyebrow at the blonde. Noticing how she seemed to be in a mood. Not wanting to ask out right with the girls there, she takes out her phone to text Regina.

Y/N: 'Are you okay?'

Regina glanced down at her phone in her hands when she felt it buzz. Looking back at Y/N who was watching her with a concerned gaze. The blonde scoffed and texted back.

Regina: 'Fine. Obviously 🙄 shut up'

Y/N read the text and sighed. She knew Regina well enough to know she wasn't actually fine and that her attitude was the result of something. She just didn't know what; Regina's attitude was not going to scare her away from finding out.

After chatting a little more, the girls all got up and started heading towards the front doors of the school to go shopping. That's when Y/N noticed Regina was walking slightly different. Almost like she had a slight limp? Everything fell into place and made sense.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed Regina by her arm and pulled her off to the side as Gretchen and Karen went to Regina's jeep. Too busy chatting with each other to notice Y/N and Regina stopped following.

"The hell are you doing?" Regina snapped, looking at her with a look mixed with frustration and confusion.

"Switch shoes." Y/N replied, in a tone that wasn't quite asking or demanding. It was somewhere between the two.

"Excuse me? No, I'm not wearing your sneakers." Regina folded her arms as she stared down Y/N. Y/N, however, wasn't intimidated. Something Regina found awfully annoying." Plus, you can't even fucking walk in heels. You'll just embarrass both of us."

"I wasn't asking, Gina." Y/N replied, standing her ground on this. She wasn't going to let the blonde torture herself just to make a fashion statement.

Regina was taken aback. She wasn't used to being talked back to. Who in their right mind would dare talk back to Regina George? Clearly, Y/N would. Whether it was stupid or brave, Regina didn't know. Part of her couldn't help but feel impressed by her girlfriend's stubbornness with this. Usually she would argue with her, but the blonde wasn't in the mood. So (very reluctantly) she agreed. Not without groaning and rolling her eyes first, though. Obviously.

Regina reached down, one hand on Y/N's shoulder as she took off her heels. Y/N smirked, feeling pretty proud of herself for getting Regina to agree. She places her heels in Y/N's hands.

"Thank you." Y/N takes off her own shoes and hands them to Regina, the two then put on the shoes. Y/N struggling more than Regina as she nearly falls over once both feet were on the ground. Instinctively, Regina caught her before she could and scoffs. Though she makes no effort to let go of her. Even going out of her way to link their arms together so she could support her girlfriend. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Regina when she does this.

"Don't even. I'm just making sure you don't embarrass us both." Regina mutters, glaring at Y/N. Though her tone didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to. She wasn't exactly truthful in her statement. She refuses to admit the real reason, but Y/N can tell.

With Regina's help, the two get to the jeep where Karen and Gretchen are waiting for them.

~~~

feedback and requests are welcomed :)